#it was true. but she was alone for so long

[xianjaneway]

I just wanted to write out my comfort fics, & tag the creators if I can.

Why?

Because if this is someone's dream, I can help that dream come true for some people.

See, I work at home, sometimes as a mom, sometimes as an eBay seller, & sometimes creating beautiful, functional things in my woodshop.

ALL of these jobs require boring, repetitive, processes, that involve long hours spent alone. Sometimes, I have moments when I fucking hate any of it.

You know what gets me through those boring, lonely, repetitive parts of life? What has already propelled me through the last 5 years of chronic illness, recovery, & building a new life?

Listening to fanfic read aloud to me in the Evie app.

I LOVE my comfort fics.

Let's go by fandom, bc while Marvel is my most recent one, the Good Omens, OFMD, Sherlock, Star Trek, & James Bond/00Q fandoms have all functioned as my literary grow-light in dark times.

I'll just start with Marvel today. Hopefully, I'll update each fandom (especially the crossovers, because THOSE are my favorite, when done well.)

However, today, I need my comfort fics, because while I've been making plans, getting passports, etc., I genuinely think it's time to get my queer family out of the US.

It's not getting any better. 💔 I have no reason to think it will. If the US citizens didn't stand up during COVID, to keep marginalized people safe, why would they do it now? 💔

Marvel:

-Into That Good Night, by Nonymous @naomisalman

I never could watch Interstellar. I'm sure it's an incredible movie in its own right, but I just couldn't sit through Christopher Nolan putting another wife or child through hell, while a flawed cis/het/white man went off to save the world.

This story not only made Interstellar accessible to me, it showed real recovery from hopelessness, real healing, and the utter pain & joy of perseverance through impossible odds.

-War, Children, by Nonymous

I'm married to a recovering hoarder, lol. He's amazing. The characterization of both PTSD & poverty here is spot-on. I love how these two healing characters give each other hope & strength to face another overwhelming day.

-Heliotrope, by Nasri

Dear God, I couldn't love this story more. My late grandmother-in-law actually survived the Dust Bowl, & nearly starved to death. She was the gentlest, quietest, sweetest woman I've ever met. This fic accurately described not only the hell of living through this disaster, but showed how *little* it takes to make hope light up your eyes again. Peaches haven't tasted the same since.

It also showed the sustaining power of love, in the midst of sacrifice. Every single character in this story is willing to give up *everything* for the people they love, & it's a fascinating process to watch unfold.

I have an idea for a sequel that I've written the bare bones for, but haven't finished. That's the first fiction I've written in 8 years. THAT is how much this story meant to me.

-Road to Giverny in Winter, by Nasri

Dear God, I needed this. Station Eleven was a masterpiece, yes, but this story distilled & concentrated it until the flavor burst on my tongue. The aftertaste still lingers, a year later.

I fucking hate the stereotype of, "strong men who never feel their feelings." "Giverny" gives Steve Rogers a whack with a scalpel & a sledgehammer, & makes him actually feel AND heal. I wish the MCU had done the same!

-The "All The Time In The World" series, by NotEvenCloseToStraight

I tagged this in my bookmarks with, "Dear God, this is better than the movies." And I truly think it is, because it gave as MUCH priority to the relationships as it did to the action. I hate it when movies make relationships (and therefore, women) a distraction from the mission objective, & therefore an emotional whiplash for both the characters & the audience:

"OH, the lead character is in love with her, but she's keeping him from RESCUING CHILDREN from a flaming building, so I kinda hate her right now."

This series makes the incredible, deep, heartfelt relationships JUST as much of a mission as, "Saving the World," & it's so rare to see that done well. (It's an unusual Stuckony endgame in the 3rd fic, that you really have to read to believe it would work. It absolutely works.)

I also think it gave much more honor & depth to Peggy Carter's character, & her love story with both Steve & her eventual husband, than the MCU ever did. NECTS uses the, "Elderly Person Gives A Dose Of Wisdom" trope quite lovingly here, & I enjoyed every minute of it.

-Ticking Down, by hulucthulhu

I had only seen clips of the movie, "Timers" on YouTube shorts, & thought it was hokey as hell.

Turns out? The same woman that wrote "Wandavision" ALSO wrote Timers. This Timers/MCU crossover (w/ a bit of Soulmate trope sprinkled on top) is yet another story about the hard work of overcoming our worst anxieties, and of healing from grief, trauma, & pain. From Tony learning to swim again after Afghanistan, to Bucky learning to care for a kitten, & do aerial yoga, every beat of this story is about taking the next step towards healing.

The ending/epilogue is also very satisfying.

-All The Angels and The Saints, by Speranza

I've written before about my journey from fundamentalism & Evangelical Christianity.

So, seeing Steve Rogers take a journey from childhood faith, to youthful atheism, to foxhole believer, to disillusioned lover, is fucking incredible. I felt EVERY beat of his faith, loss, hope, & awakening.

One thing I haven't seen much of, but Speranza just NAILED here, is how journey like Steve's affects the people he loves most.

I was enraptured w/ Bucky's journey in response to Steve's struggles. From his annoyed introduction of Steve to a potential employer as, "He's meticulous. He cares about things no sane person would care about," all the way to, [paraphrase] "How DARE you think God would make all this [gestures at the war, at his own scars] happen to teach you a fucking lesson??" Bucky reflects the tragedy of the evangelist: we spend all our time trying to convince other people how to live, while ignoring our own life.

Steve was so deep into his ideology, that Bucky's moment of, "You never think about me," is a moment that shakes him right out of abstraction & into his physical reality. And the whole fic is full of moments like that, whipping Steve's heart & mind into a frenzy, until he learns who the REAL "good guys" are.

I'm kind've obsessed w/ ALL of Speranza 's works right now. They, along w/ ItsallAvengers, are my current, "I must read everything they wrote in my fandoms" hyperfixation."

So, that's all I have time for today. I think I've stopped crying, & can start taking the next steps to get us out of here. 🖖

my dream as a fanfic writer is for one day, one of my fics to be someones comfort fic. like the fic that they reread when they don't feel good and want to be happy. i want my words to comfort someone one day

[cacartoon]

Ay there saw ur fairytale designs n they look p lovely i was wondering whats ur interpretation on snow white , rupinzel and cinderellas story

Ok time for me to geek out over fairytales that are so ancient they all deserve senior discounts (sorry if my descriptions aren’t the best)

Also I’ll do this one at a time because I’m about to try and story book this.

SNOW WHITE

Snow White is the only child of a kind king and queen.

Before her birth, the queen was an artist, who saw beauty and value in just about anything. While painting in the winter, she had dropped the apple she was eating. The queen couldn’t forget the striking beauty of the red apple against the pure white snow, and the ebony trees pulling it together. She painted that exact scene and told the king, “I hope for our child to be just like this. Pure and bold, yet gentle and beautiful”. Soon Snow White was born. Unfortunately the Queen couldn’t recover from the birth, and died not long after.

As time went on the king was pressured into another marriage, and so he wedded the new queen. Though a striking beauty, she was truly vain and cruel. She’d scoff at the late queen’s paintings and creations, and brought a chill into what was normally a warm and inviting home. She had many mirrors, and her favorite was one from her homeland. Whenever she asked the question, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is the fairest? Tell me true” and the mirror would tell her that it was she who was the fairest, for it was all that it’s ever seen. Until one day, Snow White, now a young lady, came across the mirror not knowing it was enchanted. The mirror saw true beauty as she’d assist the serving girls with carrying trays, offering to clean up the guards’ shields and weapons after a long days work, speak warmly of her late mother’s art to guests, and watched a blossoming romance between her and a neighboring prince, who were the bestest of friends.

One day, the new queen asked her mirror the same question, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is the fairest? Tell me true.”, only this time the mirror said a new answer. “My queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, Snow White is truly pure and far more fair”. The queen became enraged. She never really cared for children, and this was her final straw. Snow White was to be taken cared of, and she’d soon see a chance.

A message arrived at the castle from one of the kingdom’s allies. The King was summoned for immediate assistance, along with men and supplies. Soon he left, leaving his beloved daughter and wife alone to care for the kingdom. The wicked queen summoned a huntsman, one of her many servants who joined her from her homeland, and gave him the following orders. “Huntsman, tomorrow you are to escort the princess to the woods to pick fresh fruit. And there, you are to execute her. And to bring me proof? Bring her heart, for I want to be the one to crush it.”

The next day Snow White and the huntsman arrived at the edge of the woods where a great apple tree and berry bushes grew. It was a hot day, but this did not deter Snow White. She happily picked the fruits, even offering apples and berries to the huntsman. Even more, she gave him fresh water she had brought for the journey, as the huntsman was sweaty and tired from the heat. The kindness of this girl touched the huntsman, so much so he wept. Snow White comforted the huntsman, but was taken aback by what she heard next. The huntsman confessed his true intentions, revealing the wicked jealousy of the queen. He begged and begged for the princess to forgive him. Though she was hurt by the news, and frightened, she continued to comfort the man. “Please my princess, you must flee! I cannot bear to watch you perish at the hands of one so cruel.” Snow White wept, “But what about you? She will surely punish you!” The huntsman helped the girl to her feet, “I may have been loyal to my queen, I have a new crown to protect. You. Now go!” Snow White thanked the huntsman and fled into the woods as fast as she could.

The huntsman returned to the castle, hiding his rage and scorn. He had brought a boar heart instead to fool the queen. She was delighted as she crushed the heart. The queen then told her subjects and loyal friends of the princess’s “fate”, and ordered a message to be sent to the king. The princess, was dead…

The sun was rising, the woods once again showed light. Snow White tripped and stumbled over rocks and roots of trees. Her golden dress down torn and ripped, her ebony hair loose and messy, and her freckled face flushed from exhaustion and tears. She had been running all night. Snow White hadn’t the slightest clue where she was going. All she thought of was her poor father. She couldn’t go home until he had returned, if she could get home at all. As she trudged through the dense woods she saw a well. Without hesitation she fetched water from it and drank. Then she spotted a little cottage. The cottage was simple, yet oddly welcoming. She knocked to see if anyone was home, but no one answered. The door was left unlocked. Inside were dishes and clothes strewn about, dust covering shelves, and pickaxes worn and covered in dirt. Snow White was shocked. “Now this can’t be just left like this. No one should live like this.” Though tired and hungry, she immediately began to tidy up. Helping the servants and guards for years had taught her many skills, though she wasn’t nearly as good as the true professionals. She swept, she dusted, she washed and scrubbed. Soon the cottage was tidy and clean. Snow White was proud at her work, but now was even more tired. Her sudden cleaning job also made her think. She had wandered into a house that wasn’t hers, and she had drank from their well and imposed herself to do their chores. And now seeing how tired she was, she knew eventually she’d have to rest. But she continued to work, even making fresh bread as she was truly now hungry. As the bread cooled she grabbed a nearby paper and quill and wrote a note. As her eyes grew heavy, she took off a pearl necklace had had been wearing and placed it with the note. Snow White then fell into a deep sleep there on the ground.

Some miles from the cottage was a cave, and in that cave was a mine. The mine was filled with minerals and jewels, veins of gold and silver. And in the mine were little men hard at work, 7 in total. The leader, Oswald, wrote down all their findings. The biggest, Leopold, hauled heavy bags filled with priceless gems to carts. Another with one, Phillipe, inspected the jewels and other metals. A blindfolded one, Merlin, felt the caves for new veins with such accuracy. One with one eye, Harold, smelted down the gold and silver. The eldest, which they all called Grandpa, crushed down minerals into fine powders. And the youngest, Oliver, watched his elders with wide eyes. Oswald called his fellow miners, for it was time to return home with their treasures. With their carts, they left the mines and returned to their….clean cottage? They had been gone for some time, this haul being very large, and were stunned by their home looking better than usual. The men grew wary, could an intruder have played a joke on them? As they inspected their home, Oliver came across a shocking sight. The men gathered and saw on their ground a girl, quietly sleeping. “Who is she?” “Where did she come from?” “What has happened to her?” Oswald picked up the note she had written and read it aloud. “To the owners of the cottage. I am truly sorry I entered your home without your consent. I had been running for quite some time. I’m sure you’re a little confused by my actions, and I’m truly sorry if I offended you. I do not expect forgiveness nor will I stay. But please, accept my pearls as a payment regardless. Your well and home have saved me. And for that, I owe you many thanks.” “-Princess Snow White”, Oswald read. The men couldn’t speak. This girl was a princess? Phillipe inspected the pearls, they were real alright. “What should we do, Grandpa?”, asked Oswald. Grandpa spoke, “Let’s allow the girl some sleep, though I don’t believe the floor is proper for a lady.” “She can use our spare. I’ll take her there”, Leopold said. He carefully picked up Snow White and they all helped her into another room of the cottage. There they laid her to continue her sleep. Once they closed the door, Oswald and his family agreed, “We shall ask more in the morning. For now, let’s let her rest.”

Snow White’s eyes fluttered open from a stream of light. It was morning now, and she was…in a bed? She sat up and yawned. Then she looked around. “How did I?…”, she said to herself. There was a sudden knock at the door, which made her jump, “Oh! Um, come in!” The door opened and the men trailed in. Snow White gasped, the owners. She quickly got up from the bed, her face filled with guilt, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to impose on all of you! Thank you for your hospitality! I shall take my leave!” “Now now hold on there my dear.”, Oswald stopped her, “There’s no need for apologies. We’re all more curious than offended.” Snow White steadied her nerves, though that didn’t do much. “You are Snow White, correct? The princess?”, Oswald asked. Snow White nodded. Oswald continued, “Please, tell us what has happened to you.” The men listened to Snow White’s tale of distress. How the queen had ordered her execution but she was spared, how she ran and ran until she couldn’t no more, and how her discovery and subsequent cleaning session occurred. Snow White then stated, “And as my note says, please accept my pearls as payment. I know I’ve done wrong by entering your home, imposing myself on your chores, drinking your water, and using your materials to make bread. I am deeply sorry. I shall take my leave if you insist upon it.” “That will not be necessary.” Grandpa cut in, his old cane making a little sound with every step, “You appear to mean us no harm, actually quite the opposite. Though odd for a first instinct, you have nothing to worry about.” “And besides,” , Harold began, “what kind of hosts would we be if we let a young lady be sent back into the woods?” “Can she stay with us?”, Oliver asked. The men looked at each other and nodded. Oswald turned to Snow White, “That is, if you’d like to stay here. We can’t offer much, but you’re more than welcome to share our home.” Snow White’s eyes were filled with tears, and her smile returned to her face, “You really mean it? Why yes! Yes of course! Oh! But please no need to show me special treatment. I can help! I can cook and clean and keep home. If that’s okay?” The men smiled and laughed. “I hope you can make a good stew if you’re offering.”, Harold joked. “And you certainly will not be doing any work in that. We’ll get you proper clothing if you’re to hide here with us”, interjected Phillipe. “That settles it then.”, said Oswald, “The guest room is yours, princess. And I believe I speak for us all when I say, you may stay here as long as you’d like.” Snow White eyes lit up, and her smile warmed up the room, “Thank you…Thank you so much. And please, call me Snow.”

Back at the castle, the queen wore a mourning face. The servants and guards were quiet, no one smiled or laughed. How could they? Their dear princess was no more. The king’s letter ordered a period of mourning, and upon his arrival home they would hold a proper ceremony to honor his daughter. Once alone, the queen was giddy! She arrive at her mirror and asked the same question, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is the fairest? Tell me true!” The mirror spoke, “My dear queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, hidden in the woods in a cottage , Snow White is far more pure and fair.” The queen’s glee turned sour. How?! How could she be alive?! She realized she had been tricked. Pure rage filled her face, and then panic. The king would soon learn the truth! She had to act and act fast.

Meanwhile, Snow White was now simply Snow. Her torn royal robes now replaced with average peasant clothing, courtesy of Phillipe. She spent her days keeping the cottage tidy and clean. Snow prepped hardy and filling meals, and the men savored each bite. They returned each day with fine jewels and metals and showed her the art of jewelry and metal works. Once their treasures were made, some of the men would travel to a town to sell their goods. They’d bring back supplies and food with the money. The cottage had never been so lively. Snow would hum songs as she worked. She would clean the pickaxes with Leopold and Harold, sew and mend clothes with Phillipe, read poems and tell stories with Oswald and Merlin, and help care for Grandpa and Oliver.

One day, the men had to leave for another large haul in the mines, and Snow was left to her chores. She was hanging to laundry when an old woman walked on through a bush and got caught on the thorns. Snow quickly helped the old woman and check her over for injuries. The old lady laughed, “I’m alright my dear, no worry. Thank you for being so kind. Would you care to see my laces? I was on my way to town to sell them.” Snow’s eyes sparkled at the laces, many shimmered in beautiful colors. The one that caught her eye though was a crimson red lace, a simple yet elegant piece. She taken out her little pouch of money from helping the men with their jewelry and paid for the lace. “Allow me to help you with that.” , the old woman offered. She laced up Snow’s dress and bid the girl farewell. As Snow looked at her lace with glee, she began to feel a tight pain. Her breathes were growing faint, and she could stand. The lace was pulling tighter either every breath until she collapsed onto the cottage floor. Later the men returned to the cottage, carrying another large haul of goods when they gasped. They hurried to Snow’s side, frantically trying to wake her. Grandpa grew serious and ordered the lace to be cut. Without hesitation, Phillipe cut the lace. Then the lace morphed into snakes! The men were startled and tossed the snakes outside, and they slithered away. Snow’s eyes began to open once more. “Snow, what happened?! Who did this?!”, they asked. Snow told of her encounter today and dread ran down all their necks. There was only one person it could be; the queen. Snow looked ashamed at being tricked. They called a house meeting and all agreed, Snow needed better protection. The next day they got to work. Grandpa and Merlin showed Snow the minerals they gathered and how they made elixirs and cures. Leopold gifted Snow a little dagger to keep on her person at all times. Oswald and Harold showed Snow what poisons to be wary of. And to comfort her, Phillipe made snow new laces, ones far more beautiful and elegant than the one that almost took her life. Oliver, who had grown quite attached to Snow, insisted on staying back to protect her every day. The me didn’t oppose, perhaps another pair of eyes would be useful. Snow thanked her friends for all their help, and learned all she could from them. She hoped this wouldn’t happen again.

“My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is now the fairest? Tell me true!”, the queen asked the mirror. The mirror again told her, “My dear queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, hidden in the woods in a cottage , Snow White is far more pure and fair.” The queen shrieked in rage. Her plan had failed! She ordered more materials from her servants. This time she couldn’t fail!

The seasons began to change, it was now autumn. The woods were now orange and yellow, and the air grew colder. Snow and the little men worked together to prepare for winter. They chopped woods, gathered roots and berries, and all while laughing and joking. On one of these days, they all entered the woods to gather herbs. They split up into groups to cover more ground. While Snow was picking herbs, she heard a twig snap! She readied her dagger, remembering what Leopold taught her, and stood her ground. Before she could act she was thrown back to the ground. Another person had collided with her, tripping on a rock. The stranger apologized profusely, and then stopped. Their eyes met. Snow recognized that voice. The prince she grew up with, who was her best friend, “Archie?!””Snowy?!”, he cried. They two friends begun to cheer and laugh, and immediately threw themselves into each other’s arms. Archie cried as he held his old friend close, and Snow wept into his shoulder. “We were told you were torn apart by wild beasts…”, he said. Before Snow could explain, the men quickly arrived, ready to defend Snow from another attempt. Snow stopped them and joyfully introduced Archie. Archie was a friendly fellow. Very warm and very inviting. The men and Snow led Archie to the cottage where they spoke and caught up. Snow explained her story and Archie’s eyes filled with anger. He explained the queen told everyone that she was dead! Archie felt ashamed for being so easily tricked and wanted to confront the queen himself. Snow stopped him, and told him that until the king returned he could not. The men allowed the two some time alone and Snow told Archie everything. Archie had only been on a hunting expedition, only to find his friend hiding as a peasant, waiting for her father to return to expose the queen’s lies without putting anyone in danger. Archie understood. More than anything he was thrilled Snow was okay! They embraced and Archie promised he’d return again, checking up on Snow and the men to ensure their safety. He thanked the men profusely for protecting Snow, and left to return to his castle.

On one of Archie’s visits, now also disguised as a peasant to conceal his involvement in protecting Snow White, an old man stumbled near the well and wheezed. The youth hurried to help the man and gave him water. The old man thanked the pair . As Snow left to the cottage to return the cup they used, the old man saw the love in Archie’s eyes. He told the lovestruck prince, “I see you are in love, and I too once had a girl I cared for. And as a sign of good faith, please accept this hair piece. It was my late wife’s and we had no children. I know she’d be honored if a new couple could continue our tradition.” Archie, hesitantly eyed the comb and accepted it. It was a simple piece, possibly silver. The old man wished the prince good luck with his courtship and left. Snow and Oliver were washing dishes when Archie entered the cottage and presented the piece to Snow. Snow was touched by the gift. Oliver was confused, now understanding women’s fashion. Snow and Archie laughed and demonstrated for the young boy. Snow placed the hair piece into her hair and twirled, showing off her new look. The boys laughed and clapped and Snow bowed. Then she shot up! Her eyes were wide, she couldn’t speak. Archie and Oliver hurried to her side and she slumped over. The hair piece was digging into her scalp! Archie quickly got the hair piece off Snow and tossed it away. It morphed into a black widow spider, it hissed at the youngsters. Oliver hurried out the door and ran to the mine to bring the other men. Archie held Snow and cried out, trying to wake her. The men returned quickly. Merlin felt Snow’s head and ordered herbs and minerals. They quickly gathered up the supplies and were told to put it in water. Doing as they were told, they presented the elixir to Merlin. Merlin told Archie to have Snow drink it and quickly. Archie did as he was told, helping Snow drink. It was silent for a moment…and then Snow coughed. Her breath returned, though labored. Archie held her close and told the men what had occurred, and begged for forgiveness. The men comforted the couple, relieved that again they avoided a tragic loss. That night they came up with a new plan. It was no longer safe for Snow to stay at the cottage. None of them were safe. Archie invited the men and Snow to his castle, at least there they’d be guarded. It would take time though to prepare for more guests. They agreed, saying they had to prep the cottage for a long leave.

“My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is now the fairest? Tell me true!”, the queen asked the mirror. The mirror again told her, “My dear queen, though your beauty is striking and rare, hidden in the woods in a cottage , Snow White is far more pure and fair.” The queen was now engulfed in rage. She had tried the laces, and failed. She had tried the hair piece, and she failed again! Her attempts were thwarted time and time again and soon the king would return from his journey! She thought long and hard. She needed a plan that would ensure Snow White would never return. And she looked at the late queen’s old painting….a single apple among the winter snow. And evil grin now on her face.

Winter was fast approaching. The men stayed at the cottage now that the weather was turning cold. Soon they’d head to Archie’s castle to hunker down for the winter. The king was to return by spring, and so all they had to do was lay low. They gathered apples and berries to bring on their journey. Snow picked as many as she could when one caught her eye. While the others were a mix of yellows and reds, this one was fully red and ripe. She thought back to the painting her mother made before her birth and her heart filled with sadness. She picked the apple and kept it close, returning to the men with her bounty. They all sat and rested. They enjoyed their little snacks and Snow had the apple she picked just for herself. As she bit into it she thought of her father, how happy she’ll be once she reunites with him soon. She thought of the men who risked their safety for hers. And Archie, the prince who she had fallen in love with and was ready to help her and her friends. Snow felt her worried were almost over….and then she collapsed. The men hurried to her. They gave her elixirs and herbs, but nothing woke her. Grandpa and Merlin inspected the apple, and horror spread across them all. It was enchanted. No herb or elixir would save Snow this time. They tried in vain to wake up their friend, but it was no use. They started to weep.

The queen asked her mirror once again, “My dear my magic mirror, tell me so, whom in this land is now the fairest? Tell me true!” The mirror spoke, “My queen…it is now you…” She cackled and cheered! She had done it! Now all that was left to to keep the king in the dark.

The men carried Snow back to the cottage. They made her comfortable, flowers lined her bed. Oswald called for his fellow men, newfound determination filled him even if it was only a little, “ We’ve come this far just to quit? Did she quit when she ran? When she offered her services? When she kept escaping death’s grip time and time again? I think not!” The others wanted to cheer, but they were uncertain. Grandpa spoke, his voice low but still a little hopeful, “If none of our elixirs and cures can help, then I’ll continue to find a way…” “We must tell Archie of the news, he might be able to help.”, said Merlin. Harold left the cottage with Leopold and Oliver, as fast as they could to Archie’s kingdom.

Meanwhile Archie and his castle staff had prepared fine rooms and essentials for Snow White and the men. Though Archie was growing worried. It was still a few days ride from the castle to the cottage. Hopefully the snow didn’t slow them down. And then suddenly the castle doors swung open as Harold, Leopold, and Oliver hurried to Archie. As they told their story, Archie’s heart dropped.

The party returned with Archie, who now gazed upon Snow White’s face. It’s like she wasn’t even dead. Grandpa and Merlin looked tired, they had been searching for answers. Oswald and Phillipe stayed by the princess’s side, praying. Archie heart ached, if only he had been there. They all moved aside as Archie knelt down to Snow White’s side. He took her hand and wept, “I’m so sorry Snow…” Grandpa spoke up, his hope now dashed, “I’ve looked through everything I could…I couldn’t find a way to break the enchantment…” The men wept for their lost friend. Archie pressed his forehead against Snow White’s, “I love you Snow White…and I hope somehow you’ll know…” He gently kissed her forehead, a kiss farewell, and bowed his head…

A glow began to shine from Snow White’s throat. Everyone stopped and watched in awe as the apple piece that had been caught in her throat had lost its enchantment. Snow White coughed up the piece and began to breathe once again. She opened her eyes and sat up, and looked around, “What happened?…Are we at your home already Archie?” The men and Archie cheered with joy and wept happy tears. Archie hugged Snow White tight, and Snow White simply smiled and went along with it. They explained what had happened, and Snow White now understood. She got up from her bed, now standing tall and determined. “My step mother had tricked me, and tried to take my life. And she used my mother’s memory to do it. If her offenses weren’t treasonous enough, now she had truly crossed the line. Now my friends, we must hurry and plan our next move. For if she’s now stooped to this point to end me, I can only wonder what she’ll do to my father.” They all left the cottage and left to Archie’s castle, planning their next move.

Spring had finally arrived. The king was now home, and mourning had begun. Everyone in the castle was quiet, only soft weeps were heard. The king looked upon the old paintings of his wife and now his daughter. How could he fail them both…The wicked queen comforted her husband, now fully satisfied she convinced him of Snow White’s demise. A messenger arrived and told the king and queen their ally, Prince Archibald and his entourage have arrived for an audience. They met the young prince who had his men with him. Not just his men, but 7 smaller men and his wife’s huntsman too. The king was happy to see the young prince he had watch grow from a boy to a man, but his heart grew sad as he told of Snow White’s fate. Archie stood tall and informed the king he and all the kingdom have been tricked by the queen. The queen scoffed and lied, saying grief had clouded his mind. The king asked if there was proof of these allegations. The seven men presented the king with their proof. The snakes that once were laces, the spider who was once a hair piece, the apple that was still fully ripe and red with a piece missing. Then, Prince Archie presented his evidence. Walking past him to the king was none other than SNOW WHITW!!! She was back in royal robes, her hair and face adorned in jewels and gold made by her friends, and she was very much alive. The queen was silent. The king ran to his daughter in joy and hugged her tight, weeping. Snow White cried with her father, overjoyed. “Is this true child?”, the king asked. Snow White nodded, “I’m afraid it’s all true.” Suddenly guards arrive, frazzled and confused. They were carrying many bottles and potions, and even worse; poisons. “Your majesty! We have recovered these from the gardens! Someone had them buried!” The King looked at the queen, who was now even paler. “Is this true my love? You tried to have my child killed?!”, the king barked. The queen was silent. Then she chuckled. Her chuckled quickly changed to a cackle. It sounded angry and wicked. The queen confessed. Everything they said was true! The king was enraged and called for the queen to be arrested, but she ran past them all in a hurry. The little men and the prince chased after the queen, and Snow White followed not long after.

On top of the castle the queen was chased. She cursed and threw all she could to stop them from capturing her until she was cornered. The men surrounded her, and Snow White arrived soon after. She looked at her step mother, hurt but no longer afraid. “We welcomed you to our home, and treated you as family. Even if it was a marriage of convenience, we loved you. I do not understand why you are the way you are, but I wish to show mercy. You are to be banished from our land and to never return. Your family will be informed of your actions.” The queen was enraged. “This isn’t over you vicious brat! I won’t be made a fool! I won’t be outshined by a small insignificant child! And I’ll die before YOU outshine ME!” Before anyone could act, she lunged at Snow White and tackled her down, but she over shot and the two fell over the side of the castle ledge. Snow White quickly grabbed onto the ledge and grabbed the queen’s hand. Snow White, though upset, didn’t wish to see anyone die. The queen looked up at the child, who she looked down upon now looking down on her, and sneered. She clawed and scratched at Snow White, trying one last time to end it all, but her thrashing only made her lose her grip. The Queen plummeted to the ground, her cries loud and then silent. Archie and the men quickly rescued Snow White and pulled her to safety. Snow White sighed in relief, the first time since the day she was first to be killed.

The king begged Snow White to forgive him for allowing such a woman into their lives, but Snow White comforted her old father. “Now is not the time to dwell on the past. Spring has arrived, and a new day is upon us. Let’s all celebrate a new era and new beginnings.”

The kingdom celebrated the return of their king and princess. The streets were filled with music and dancing. The little men were richly rewarded and honored for their selflessness and compassion. Snow White then told Archie with pure love in her heart, “I love you too, Archie”. The young couple shared a kiss as the celebration went on, for a new future awaited them all.

And they all live, happily ever after.

(I spent like 2 hours writing this what the heck, I hope it’s not bad 😭)

[f1cflcfic]

Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - part ix

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons and/or events

series: part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | ...

bonus: one, two, three

May 10 - 18, 2025

[Transcript excerpt: Serena Williams & Y/N L/N's "Athletes on Athletes"]

"So, Serena. You've had an amazing career in tennis - to me, you are the Greatest of All Time. But what would you say is the one sacrifice that people might not expect you've had to make?"

"I think a lot of people immediately think of family, and having Olympia and Adira. It wasn't easy, and I did have to think at one point - do I want to really win another championship, or do I want to raise my family and be present. But there's also a lot of other sacrifices you make along the way. I've had times where family members were sick and I couldn't visit them, because I was playing a tournament. I think about the friendships I lost, because I didn't have time to invest in them. And there are a lot of the things I couldn't experience with my peers. Of course, I also gained a lot of things by not doing others. It's more so a choice perhaps, a trade-off, than a sacrifice."

"Yeah, I resonate with that a lot. I'm feeling that now with my niece having been born. And I'm so lucky that my sister is willing to plan her wedding around my schedule, which is insane of her but I love it, too. I think having a family isn't really on my mind at the moment - but I would love to be in love. I just think that it's really difficult for anyone to measure up against the love I have for tennis. And so it doesn't necessarily feel like a sacrifice to put that first. Tennis is my first and forever love. I would want a partner to understand that. My biggest nightmare is not being able to play anymore. Only after that comes being alone."

"Yeah. I think it's about perspective and priorities - and those shift over time. You live and breathe tennis, but it's not all that you are. As long as you've got a solid foundation of people around you who lift you up, but who also keep you grounded and can remind you of that, then you're going to be good. You'll land on your feet. That loyalty we feel to tennis, it's the same loyalty you need from your team. And I think that perhaps that's the hardest choice to make sometimes. When you have to say goodbye to someone you've been on a journey with for so long, but they no longer fit."

"I think that's so hard. It's difficult to know when you need the comfort and stability to perform at your best, or when you need to be challenged to perform at a new best. I'm still figuring that out. But a solid group of friends, I have, thankfully."

May 19 - 25, 2025

[Transcript excerpt: McLaren's Teammate Challenge video]

"For this next bit - we will write down the answer we think the other person's going to give."

"So it's not necessarily what I think is the right answer, but what I think Oscar is going to answer."

"Indeed, Lando."

"Alright then. We'll start with a few easy ones. What is my favourite cuisine?"

"Easy indeed, I've written down Italian."

"Well done Osc, that's true. You go next."

"What is my middle name?"

"Pssh. Done. It's Jack. My turn then - who's my celebrity crush?"

"I've gone for Y/N L/N."

"Wrong - I don't have one."

"That's unfair! We all know the ansewr is Y/N. He can't just make up a new celebrity crush."

"Of course I can? She's my actual friend now. Celebrity crushes are for people you admire from a distance."

"And what if you admire them from up close?"

"I think we should go to the next question."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ ∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘∘•···············•∘

author's note: well, it's 1:15 AM and officially King's Day in the Netherlands, but wanted to get this up finally as promised! Next part should be up a bit sooner as it's pretty much finished already and involves some big moments and realisations for y/n at the French Open :) :)

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012

[waynes-multiverse]

FINALLY!!!! Diving right in 🤓

He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap.

That description made me snort because it’s so fucking fitting for this guy 😂👌

And seriously, this dude can’t take a fucking hint to literally save his life. Jesus… Bro, she ain’t that into you. Get the memo. The way he kept calling her baby and didn’t pick up how fucking weird that is, is soooo delusional. I actually think he needs mental help at this point 🙈

Anyways, can’t wait to see you go, Cujo!!

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-”

Okay, I might need mental help too. This should not have turned me on 😂😂 (But I’m self-aware, so we’re good???)

On a serious note, her history with Cujo is horrifying. What a fucking creep. Slipping pills into drinks of underage girls? Yeah, he deserves to die, and I totally get why she’d wanna do it. I always thought the most fitting punishment for guys like that was what Ramsey Bolton did to Theon Greyjoy in GoT… ^^

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

And God, I’m melting here with Russell, the killing machine, taking charge and taking care of her. He’s soft for *us* 🫠❤️‍🔥

Michelle, you’re making me question my morals and they weren’t that high to begin with 😂

Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move.

Is this you commenting on TV!Colter? Dead 😂💀

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Oh, don’t sweetie us, Russ... Loved how she wasn’t taking any of his crap and called him out on his shit!! 👏 This was sooo good and I was cheering her on all the way 👇👇👇

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

The fact his reply was “Maybe this was a mistake” made me want to slap his goddamn head off! Whyyyyyy, you emotionally unavailable recluse?!?!

Gaaaaah, I think the most frustrating part is that he tried so hard to convince her he’s the one for her and he’ll be there, and at the first sign of trouble, he fucking walks it back. How exactly is she supposed to trust another word out of his mouth? Grrr

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine.

I seriously wanna hit him so fucking hard for being such a big idiot!!! God, the self-worth issues with this man is almost another Deanism 🙈

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room.

Awww, he really does like her 🥰 The fact he’s willingly staying in a house with another person says a lot lol

No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands.

*sighs* Alright, Fluffy, get in… 🫠 And points for being honest. He really took a long look in the mirror and opened up to her big time! And on the other hand, her point of wanting too much too soon is also true. They have known each other for only a short amount of time. They’ve already shared more with each other than people during the first ten dates lol

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?”

I have that song constantly in my head anyways!!! Can you not?! Russell’s Swifite is showing again 🤣

Those two basically during this scene lmao:

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

Oh her bluntness had me dead 🤣🤣🤣

And I absolutely love that you have Russell running with his own little underground crew here like in the books! 😍

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen.

Not the peanut gallery chiming in 😂🫶

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

God, I’m fucking loving this dynamic so much!!! I’m a sucker for a brutal interrogation 😍😍😍 (Again, yes, I know the mental help. Will get on it soon… -ish)

And my fucking skin is crawling, btw!!! The sheer amount of effort Cujo put fucking into this and the bars on the windows and the padlock on the door??? Holy fucking shit!!! She really was lucky Russell came when he did. I don’t wanna imagine what would’ve happened to this poor girl otherwise 🙈😳

Again, is the Ramsey Bolton option off the table??? Force-feed him his sausage, girl!!!!

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

Yeah… Really is a draw of luck 😔 (And honestly it’s why True Crime is so creepy and sad because it’s always “We never thought this could happen to our town/our family/me” etc. If you’re unlucky, all it takes is sitting next to the wrong person on the bus)

The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.

Yes 💯 Camus has always been my favorite because I do agree that’s it all a little absurd if you think too hard about it…

“I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

Cue the Radiohead 😂💚

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

Aww, I’m so happy they made up too and are getting closer 🥰 The most frustrating part of the show is still how they brushed off Russell’s hurt over being accused of murder for twenty years by his own brother lol. I always loved that honest chat they had in the books about it 🤓

“Just an observation.”

Oh Colter 🫶

After she went to live with our aunt and uncle.

Aaah, loved this little tidbit about Dory!!! 👏👏 I can’t remember if they ever mentioned it on the show as well or if Dory actually lived on the compound till the end 🤔 (Still wild book!Dory has a wholeass husband and kids and goddamn escape plans set in place lol)

“No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

Bahaha loved how he backtracked so fast there was almost a Russell-shaped hole in the front door 😂

Awwww, this was such a perfect ending!! Both of them having a home and each other and a perfectly chosen family 🥹😭

This was an amazing series, Michelle! I loved all the book Easter eggs you weaved in so flawlessly and your characterization of both Russell and Colter! And aside from that, I was so hooked on the main storyline with the mafia and her being a fixer wanting to get out. You did such a great job with her background story and planning all those details perfectly and keeping the tension going, even with that last stretch when Owen showed up at the supermarket and then again during the interrogation. Seriously can’t wait what else you have in store for them with the other two one-shots! Well done, friend!!! 🩵🩵🩵

He's My Man (Part 5)

Summary: Russell's taken care of the reader's problem but things take a turn and the happy couple may not be so happy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,300ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury/past drugging/brief mention of attempted assault (not shown) mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker, murder, self-worth issues

A/N: Thank you all for taking this journey with me with writing this new character! I might return to this world someday but until then, please enjoy the finale!

__________

When you pulled up to the dark house, you noticed Russell’s car had been pulled into the garage and covered with a tarp. You swallowed as you pulled in beside it, biting back bile when Owen parked right behind you, preventing any escape if it came to that. You’d given Russell nearly thirty minutes notice to prepare. You really hoped whatever he had planned was going to be over with fast.

“Fuck,” said Owen, dashing from his car in the downpour to inside the garage. He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap. You’d seen the gash on his forehead before but from the overhead light, a skull fracture was very visible. The dried blood had matted into his thick hair and, along with the other injuries, made him look half-dead. 

“Why don’t you go relax inside, honey?” you forced out when you exited, slamming the door shut loudly, hoping Russell picked up on the fact you were here. “I’ll get the bags and then I’ll take a look at those cuts.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t take too long.” You didn’t like how he kept saying that. He’d hung off of you at the store. Even if he wasn’t a raging psycho, personal space was still a thing.

You pretended to fuss about at the trunk as he went in the door from the garage to the house. It was quiet for a beat, your gaze locked on the open door in the corner.

Two quick shots rang out and you hit the cement floor hard. Nothing could be heard over the rain, your heart hammering away in your chest. Russell wouldn’t have shot Owen, would he? No, Russell would have snuck up on him, taken him out before he knew what hit him.

So had Owen been shooting? Was Russell hurt? You slowly sat up on your hands and knees, crawling along the side of the car until you reached the hood. You peaked your head around the corner and saw a pair of legs lying on the ground through the open door. It looked like Owen so you carefully rose, flinching when Russell came bounding in from behind you.

He held up his hands, your eyes widening at the blood staining his crisp white tee. 

“What-”

“My stitches tore,” he said, turning his bicep towards you, the blood staining underneath the bandage. ���Are you okay?”

You nodded, glancing back inside to where the body lay motionless. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet,” said Russell, inching past you towards a work bench. “Although he did shoot my fucking front door. Do you have any idea how much a custom mahogany door costs? I might kill him for that alone.”

Russell opened a drawer, taking out duct tape and zip ties. He slammed it shut, pausing with his back to you.

“He’s not going to leave you alone if I let him live.” 

“I know. He’s been following me for awhile I guess,” you said. 

“I can frame him for Elpine’s murder if you don’t want me to kill him.” You leaned back against your car, Russell setting the items on the bench and joining you. “I don’t have to…you know.”

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-” You went to his workbench and ripped off a garbage bag from the roll, Russell closing his eyes. “Y/N, you should stay out here. Let me do this.”

“Owen started slipping roofies into my drinks when I was fifteen.” His head snapped up as you sighed. “He drugged me twice but nothing happened because my dad was around. I had to be more careful once dad started to lose it. Owen’s a good decade older than me I’m sure you noticed. I’ve been scared of this guy for too long. I’m not asking you to kill him. I’m asking you to show me how to do this myself.”

“I appreciate how strong you are but I’m doing it,” he said, taking the bag from you. You dropped your hand, frowning up at him. He sighed, stroking your cheek with his clean hand. “Your soul has enough scars for a lifetime. Don’t add more.”

“You don’t have to kill someone for me, Russell. You don’t need that on you either. Look what you’ve already done.”

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

Three Hours Later

“To be perfectly clear, I’m doing this for Y/N, not you,” said Colter with a coldness you didn’t love. You knew Russell’s relationship with his little brother was strained but you’d thought it had gotten better over the past few days.

“Yeah, well it don’t take a genius to see you like her better,” said Russell, Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move. “I’ll never ask you for a thing again. You never even have to speak to me. Think what you want about me. Just please do this for Y/N’s sake.”

“I already…” huffed Colter when you side eyed him with narrowed eyes. He let out a slow exhale. “Fine. You owe me, Russell. Big.”

“Colter,” you said, nodding towards his truck. You left Russell as he went back to taping the large cooler in the garage shut. You assumed he’d put Owen inside and cleaned up while you were gone at the store. The rain had paused momentarily but there was another batch of storms coming through soon. You sighed as you stopped next to the younger Shaw, Colter crossing his arms. “I’m not letting you do this. I know Russell asked but I can’t let you move a body for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, face turning into a scowl. 

“I’m not moving…Russell!” Russ’ head popped up, Colter becoming increasingly annoyed. “Tell me what is going on right now or I swear you and me are done. Forever.”

Russell sighed, throwing his head back. “I may have lied about the Y/N wanting to tag along with you so she can tidy up her place in Virginia.”

“You what?” you asked, storming over to him. “You were trying to pawn me off on Colter again? For what! Owen’s dead, there’s no one left to bother me.”

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Slowly Russell met your gaze, ignoring Colter behind you. “So is this how it’s going to be? Any time everything’s not perfect you’re going to drop me on your brothers doorstep at the drop of a hat? News flash, Colter isn’t my babysitter. I’m a grown woman who has seen and handled more crap than you know. I thought you didn’t think of me as a damsel.”

“I don’t but-”

“But you don’t want me around for the hard stuff. I got the message.” 

“Y/N, someone else could still be left. They could kill you-” You held up your hand, Colter heading back to his truck to give you some space.

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

Russell swallowed, face going stoic. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Your heart dropped like a rock into the pit of your stomach, Russell’s jaw clenching. “You should pack up your stuff here and go with Colter. Go back to Virginia. You’re probably right. This was just attraction, plain and simple.”

“Russell, that’s not what I was saying-” 

“Yeah, it was. Just go. Please. I’ll deal with Owen. Just go back to Virginia and start your life over away from people like us.” With that he brushed past you for Colter, ignoring his repeated calls. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled as you went inside and shoved the few belongings that weren’t in the trunk of your car into a bag. You very purposefully left every pair of underwear, bra and pajamas he’d bought you behind. The cheap sports bra and cotton underwear you’d bought earlier would get you through until you were home.

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine. You were free of the mafia. Free of guys with fucked up pasts. Your options were limitless.

And thank god Colter was smart enough to not ask about your red rimmed eyes by the time you were on the road.

Five Days Later

You gave Colter a wave from your front step as he drove off down the street. It’d taken only two days to drive cross country this time. Apparently you drove faster when you were upset. Or you didn’t sleep as much. Either way, Colter didn’t ask and was happy to get to Virginia where he had a missing accountant to find.

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room. In exchange, Colter got you hooked up with the basics of reward work. There were some extra perils to the job being a woman but also advantages that Colter didn’t have. He went over finding jobs, finding a team, learning how to get access to tools and databases. You didn’t have a lot of confidence in going after a full fledged disappearance yet but Colter mentioned it wasn’t always people that were what was missing.

By the end of his short stay, you had information overload but were grateful for the chance to start doing something good for once in your life.

Meanwhile, Russell hadn’t reached out once. You had to assume he’d disposed of Owen. You weren’t sure why you were still waiting for a text or a call. It was pretty clear things were over. Russell was too protective and you weren’t going to let another man tell you what to do again. 

Yet, you knew you were at fault too. Russell had just killed a guy in his house for you and he knew a hell lot more about getting away with a murder than you did. Russell had points for not wanting to involve you. And you had to be an asshole and pressure him for more when there was literally a dead body at your feet.

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, leaning against the kitchen island with your head lowered. “Why did I do that?”

The doorbell rang, your head slowly rising. You sighed as you went to it, pulling it open quickly. 

“Did you forget-” You cut yourself off when you didn’t see Colter standing there. No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands. “Russ? What-”

“Let me get this out and then I’ll get out of your life forever if that’s what you want,” he said. You leaned against the door jam, Russell taking a deep breath. “Y/N, I like you. A lot. Too much probably for how long we’ve known each other. Everything you said was right. I avoid my problems because it’s a hell of a lot easier to fix someone else’s in my experience.”

He swallowed, glancing at his feet. “Owen could have hurt you at that store. He could have taken you, shown up at the house and killed you. I fucked up and you don’t seem to understand that Owen’s obsession and how fucking smart you are is the only reason we’re still here and he’s not. I told you I took care of it and I didn’t. I was angry at myself and wanted you somewhere safer than with me so I pushed your buttons on purpose. I lied on purpose so you’d get mad and leave with Colter. You deserve a good man and I’m not him. I kill people. I use sex as a way to be close to women but then never let myself be in a relationship because I don’t want them to see beneath the surface and see the shit that’s in there. I want better for you than me.”

Russell looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face. “Can we try being friends again and maybe I can become that man that deserves you along the way?”

“Russell,” you sighed. You stepped forward, cupping his cheeks, green eyes full of caution. “We can be friends. I’d like it if we were more than that, though.” 

He slowly smiled, his lip ticking up when you stroked his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You do not have to share your deepest darkest secrets with me, never mind the first day we’re actually together. That was unfair of me. I just want you to know you can share them with me if you want to.” 

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Y/N,” he said softly. “Dozens. Some of them, most of them, I never gave two shits about. No nightmares. No trauma. That’s not normal. It’s been years since I’ve felt all that bad about killing.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about killing monsters,” you said. He closed his eyes and you leaned in, kissing his forehead. “S’that why you didn’t want me to kill Owen?”

“Moral and practical reasons,” he whispered. “I don’t kill out of revenge. I don’t think I ever have. It always has another purpose. Protect someone, protect a group or the general public from a threat. Some psych told me once that’s why I don’t struggle as much with what I’ve done as some other folks. The way I grew up helped me with that. But I do struggle with it still and you’ve struggled enough. You don’t need that on you.”

“I understand. I’m so used to being controlled and told what to do…I can never go back to that.”

“You never will,” he said, opening his eyes. You tilted your head, Russell turned into your touch to match. “I’m sure I’ll fuck things up again. We can be friends if that’s all you ever want.”

“I don’t want to be just friends. So what if we fight? That’s what couples do.” You took his hand in yours and the flowers in the other, leading him inside behind you. 

“I quit my job a few days ago.” You froze, spinning around on your heels. He shrugged, still holding your hand. “I can’t change my life without making some changes.”

“You still want to do that home brew for a career?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to give it a shot.” He spotted the stacks of papers on your kitchen table and open computer. “Colter offer you a spot on his team?”

“He did at first but I want to try doing it my way, stop patching up the bad guys and doing something good. He warned me it can be dangerous work though, especially as a woman flying solo.”

“He makes very good points,” said Russell, thumbing at your lip when you smiled. “What’s that look for?”

“Maybe you could be on my team sometimes, show me a few moves from the expert.” You started to walk backwards towards your bedroom, Russell’s eyebrows raising. “If you want to.”

“I’ll show you any kind of moves you’d like, qark.” He held his ground though, stopping you in place. You waited for the but to come, for him to push back on getting back together. Instead, he took the flowers from your hand and went into your kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water. He set the flowers on the island before rejoining you, resting his hands on your hips. “I like the idea of working together as partners.”

“But…” you said, Russell kissing the top of your head.

“But you are far too kind, my queen of darkness. I was expecting to get told to get lost tonight and I have plans I can’t get out of with my friends very shortly.”

“Oh,” you said, Russell’s finger tips finding the ends of your hair and playing with a few strands. “If you have plans, we can meet up another-”

“You want to know my dark side?” Your eyes flicked to meet his, your head nodding once. “You can’t unknow what kind of man I am once you do. I don’t blame you if you change your mind about me.”

“I want to know you. All of you.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Go change into something discreet. Dark clothes. Leave your phone home. If at any point you want to leave, say so and I bring you right back here, understand?” You nodded, Russell backing away. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?”

“You can change in the bedroom with me.” He smirked but backed away.

“Another time. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, Russell glancing away.

“Don’t be mad but we need to pay Owen a visit.”

Twenty minutes later you quietly followed Russell into what looked like a decommission warehouse that should have been torn down a decade ago. The building was pitch black apart from the single light coming from the end of a hallway. You stuck behind Russell as you entered the room, stopping when you found six different men and a woman inside, most carrying a weapon on their hip or tucked into their jeans from what you could tell.

And smack in the center of the room tied to a chair was Owen very much still alive. Although…alive was being generous. He didn’t look more injured than when you’d last seen him but his color was off and his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn’t even angry when he saw you, just…scared.

“He behave while I was gone?” asked Russell to a man and woman nearby.

“Tried bribing Doug and then all of us to let him go,” said the woman. She gave Owen a nasty look before turning gentle as she looked towards Russell. “I think you scared the poor boy, Shaw.”

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?” said Russell, giving Owen a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So. Owen, my friends. Friends, Owen. You’re already acquainted with Y/N.”

Owen’s gaze flickered to you when Russell grabbed a chair from the wall and sat it a few feet away from Owen, facing him. Russell sat down slowly, nodding when you moved closer so you could see both their faces.

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

“On me, big guy,” said Russell, snapping his fingers, Owen reluctantly looking at him. “You got some options. Prison. You die very quickly. Or…me and my friends can make sure you die very slowly. Your choice.”

“Why didn’t you kill him yet?” you asked again. Russell sighed, glancing down. “Russell.”

“There were some things that never sat right with me that I wanted answers to. The stuff with your family’s accident and your dad’s paranoia, him attacking you. I had a paranoid father too. I know the signs, know that they want to protect us in their own way. The coincidence of meeting someone just like me was too high so I started to dig. You mentioned Owen’s drugged you a few times in the past and tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I’m not following,” you said. Russell stood slowly, staring down Owen like a predator with it’s prey firmly caught in a trap.

“I figured if he drugged you, who else had he slipped something to? What good man, good doctor, could a prescription drug running family slip into his drinks? The more I researched, the more my friends helped, the more we found.” Russell clenched his fists by his side, knuckles turning white. “Should I tell her Owen? Or do you have the balls to tell her yourself?”

Russell ripped off the tape over his mouth, Owen wincing as he breathed deeply. Russell was on him like that, grabbing his throat, not squeezing but adding enough pressure that it was going to be uncomfortable. “I told you to talk, you sack of shit.”

“Y/N, this guys is lying. I never did anything to you!” Russell’s jaw clenched and you watched him squeeze, only backing off when you laid a gentle hand on Russell’s shoulder. 

“He’s psycho!” said Owen, Russell backing up a step. You looked up to him, Russell’s face unreadable. “Y/N, baby-”

“Shut the fuck up before I stab you in your spine,” you said. Owen’s jaw snapped shut, a flicker of something in Russell’s eyes. Pride? Amusement? It quickly flittered away, replaced with worry when you held out a hand. “Can I have your knife?”

Russell slowly took it out of his pocket, handing the engraved handle out to you. You flicked it open and took a seat in the chair, holding it pointed down at the concrete floor.

“Owen. Tell me the truth and I won’t kill you. I swear. But I can get the answers from you if you don’t cooperate. Don’t make me get my boyfriend’s knife bloody.”

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Our old fixer wanted out, wanted to go to the feds so my dad had him killed. I was eighteen and he told me to start earning my place as successor. He told me to find a new fixer. Your dad was one of the best doctors in the city. Things were…arranged. Two weeks later we-” 

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

“Two weeks later I…put a hit on your family. Your mom and brother specifically. We only needed one kid to survive and I thought a girl would be easier to control. I started drugging your father that night with antipsychotics to create paranoia,” said Owen, his head hanging low. “I orchestrated the whole thing. We fed him the drugs for years, it made him stay close if not a little extreme. It kept taking more though.”

“Do. Not. Skip. Ahead,” growled Russell, grabbing a fistful of Owen’s shirt.

“O-okay. I-I…I started thinking about how to get your dad to stick around once you grew up and you were pretty and smart and I thought you’d be happy with me.”

“How old was she when you decided this?” barked Russell. Owen whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. “Fifteen you disgusting waste of space.”

“You started drugging me then,” you said. Owen shook his head.

“Not with that stuff. Just roofies. But not enough for you to be completely out of it. Your dad started keeping a closer eye on you and I tried waiting for you to come around on your own but it was so hard when you went away to college. I knew I couldn’t let you run off like that again so…” Owen’s shoulders shook, mouth snapping shut.

“So you roofied her, attacked her and she fought back. Her father protected her and you fucking killed him for it. Your dear old daddy found what you’d done and wasn’t happy, was he? He covered up your murder and blamed her father knowing Y/N wouldn’t remember a thing. Y/N was forced to go to med school and learn crap she didn’t want to all while daddy had you banished away from her. You tried to keep tabs on her but it wasn’t until dad died that you could finally take Y/N like you wanted. It’s pure fucking luck I showed up when I did to make sure that didn’t happen. Would you like to tell Y/N about the fucking padded door locks and bars on the window in her old room back at the house? About your plans for her?”

Russell grabbed Owen’s hair, forcing his head up. Owen was trembling, whispering apologies and saying how he didn’t mean it, over and over.

“So…you killed my family…and tried to assault me more than once over the years…and were planning on keeping me as a…pet in the house until I magically fell in love with you. I think that sums it up,” you said. You stood up, handing Russell his knife. “I’m not going to kill him.”

“Thank you,” sighed Owen in relief. “Thank you. I-I knew you’d be able to forgive me-”

“Oh, I don’t forgive you and I wouldn’t be thanking me,” you said, smiling up at Russell. ““Papa Elpine and a few guys made it out I heard. Bobby was his favorite son, right?”

“Y/N! I killed Bobby! They’ll-” Russell shoved some tape over his mouth and hummed.

You crossed your arms, Russell tilting his head at you. “You know they’re going to torture Owen to death.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him and I’m keeping my word,” you said, Owen shouting under the tape. “I’d tell you to confess but Elpine’s connected. He’d just have you killed in prison. So. Elpine it is.”

“You sure?” asked Russell. You pursed your lips, Owen pleading with his eyes. Everything in you wanted to say yes, let him get what he had coming. 

So why couldn’t you say it? 

You looked to Russell, nodding. “Get rid of him, please,” you mouthed.

“Look away,” said Russell. You turned around, Owen panting hard before there was a loud crack and the room was still. Russell’s hand found your shoulder, rubbing it softly. “We took care of Elpine’s guys. You know that.”

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

“I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years. Best I came up with is you got to try and let it go. The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, walking you towards the door. You nearly looked back but he blocked you with his body. “No. He’s gone for good, you don’t need to give him anything more. I’m sorry for not killing him back in Washington. I just thought you deserved the truth. Your dad was a good man.”

“Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I wish I realized that sooner.”

“Come on,” he said, walking you out to the hallway. “Let’s get you home.”

One Month Later

You smiled from your chair when Russell let out a single tiny snore from the couch across from you. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days and honestly, it was kind of adorable the way this incredibly dangerous man made the cutest cooing noises while he slept.

“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes a few minutes later. You looked around, holding up a finger. “I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

“Well, you make these cute sounds when you sleep,” you said. He smirked, slowly flicking his lazy eyes open.

“And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been sleeping, hm?” You shrugged and slid down in your chair with your book, grinning behind the pages. “I can see that smile, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me for the amazing orgasms you give,” you said, flicking your eyes over the top of the book, Russell propping himself up on his elbows with a predatory gaze. “Down boy. Later.”

“You better,” he said, plopping back with a huff. “Remind me to never help Frank with a favor ever again.”

“Frank helped you with Owen,” you reminded him. Russell scoffed.

“All he did with Owen was stand there and look scary. I didn’t make him build a fucking deck in the pacific northwest in forty degree weather.”

“Aw, is baby boy cranky?” you teased. He growled, playfully tossing his pillow at you. “You guys should wrap up tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan. Then I’m going back to waking up at a humane hour,” he said, forcing himself to sit up and stretch out with a few grunts. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You needed it,” you said, flipping a page. Russell glanced over to the dining table, taking in the decorated spread. 

“You set a place for Colter?” he asked. 

“Yes…right next to Dory’s,” you said, closing your book and setting it aside. “You still think he won’t come?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to come to a housewarming party. Especially his brother’s housewarming party. We still haven’t talked since…” 

“I know,” you said, standing and pulling him to his feet. He was still sleepy as you ruffled his hair, Russell turning into the touch. “I’m excited to meet your friends and family properly.”

“They want to know all about you, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “You can’t imagine the amount of shit they’ve given me after I said I’d never settle down.”

“I moved in a week ago. We’re a ways from settling down,” you said. He titled his head, smiling at you. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” he teased, leaning in close, dipping his head, kissing under your jaw.

“Shaw! Do not give me a hickey! I do not want them seeing-” You sucked in a breath, brain going fuzzy when he nipped at the soft flesh. 

“Too bad, qark. If I have to have hickeys all over my neck then so do you,” he said, suckling the skin. A buzzer went off in the kitchen and he groaned when you slipped away so the rolls wouldn’t burn. “Y/N…”

“Saved by the bell,” you said, taking out the pan and leaving them to cool off. Russell was by your side quickly, hands on your hips so you couldn’t escape. “Okay. How about you can give me as many hickeys as you want later if you’re a good boy this afternoon?”

“Hm, I do like being your good boy,” he said, squeezing your hips. “Deal.”

“Good. Where do you keep-“

The doorbell trilled, your heads turning towards the front windows. A familiar pickup truck was out front, Russell raising his eyebrows. You nodded for the door, Russell cautious as he answered. Colter stood on the front porch with an awkward forced smile and a pink box.

“I uh, picked up some dessert for dinner later,” he said offering the box. Russell took it, setting it aside on the front table. “You going to invite me in?”

“I thought you…” Russell shook his head and opened the door wider, letting his younger brother inside. Colter gave you a brief smile before clearing his throat.

“I uh, can help you get ready or cook. I just…last time we talked Russell…”

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

“Yeah,” said Colter, returning it for a moment before the boys broke apart. “How’s the girlfriend situation working out for you?”

“I’m telling you man, find the right girl, you’ll never want to go back to being a loner,” said Russell, giving you a smirk. “They do come with a lot of rules though, fair warning.”

“I asked you to put the toilet seat down, Shaw,” you chided. 

“Like I said, rules,” teased Russell. You picked up a knife by your cutting board, narrowing your eyes. “We should help before she starts using that on us.”

“Yes you should,” you said, Colter shrugging out of his jacket and boots, joining your side after washing up. “Can you cut up the veggies into strips?”

“Can do,” he said, swapping places with you. You smiled when Russell took the dessert box and started to arrange the treats on a platter over on the dinning table. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the last time we were all here.”

You frowned as you peeled a bag of potatoes into a bowl. “You mean when I lost my cool on Russell? You have nothing to apologize for Colter. We were asking you for a favor. Again. I’m honestly surprised you don’t hate me. I know you value your alone time.”

Colter was quiet, chopping neatly and pushing the scraps into a discard bowl. “Did Russell ever tell you how he got that gunshot he went to you for in the first place?”

“Someone kidnapped Doug. He went to save him.”

“Did you know I helped him with that?” You shook your head, setting the peeler down. Colter had stopped dicing, a barely there smile crossing his face. “If it weren’t for my brother asking for my help with his friends, I’m not sure we ever would have spoke again.”

“I know there’s a complicated history there.” He hummed, watching Russell across the room. “It means a lot to him that you’re trying too.”

“S’all we can do is try, right?” he said, going back to his cutting. “So. My brother is clearly head over heels. What about you? Should I expect a wedding invitation soon?”

“Uh, no,” you said, laughing to yourself. “We’re certainly not traditional but we’re nowhere near ready for that. We’ll see how living together goes for awhile before we talk about anything like long term plans.”

“Yet you moved in already.” You rolled your eyes. “Just an observation.”

“For convenience sake. Russ is looking into land for the brewery around here since he left his job and apartments in town are limited.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s it. Silly me,” he said. You held up your peeler to him, Colter raising his hands. “Russ, I think I broke one of your girlfriend’s rules.”

“It was nice knowing ya,” said Russell with a chuckle. “Give him a swift death for me, qark.”

“Qark?” asked Colter as you turned your attention to the potatoes. 

“Queen of darkness. Now hurry up with those so you and Russ can have some alone time before dinner.”

Six Hours Later

“This is going well,” said Russell to you in the kitchen as laughed and a smoky scent filtered in from the back porch. “Everyone really likes you.”

“I suppose I have met them all before, except for Dory. She’s such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I was expecting but-”

“She was much younger than us when our dad died. After she went to live with our aunt and uncle. She’s tough but normal in a way Colter and I won’t ever…” You rubbed his back, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Did you like, drug him? Or bribe him? I seriously can’t believe he’s still here let alone came.”

“Of course he came. No matter what’s happened in the past, he loves his big brother.” Russell tucked you into his side, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder. “I found a job in Wyoming. Missing prized show dog. I was going to head out in the morning, see if I’m any good at this.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Be safe though.”

“I will be.” You turned in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms around his back in a hug. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if I was safe. It’s nice. This weird little family you have is…I’m jealous to be honest.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s yours too.” You raised your eyebrows, Russell raising his own, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

“Me either,” you said, the tension running out of his face. “I want to know who we are without our old jobs, how to be a happy queen of darkness.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Speaking of which, I got you a present for helping organize all of this and cooking for ten people after literally just moving cross country. I know it was stressful so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need a present, Russ,” you said, a sneaky smile forming on his face. “Oh. This is a present for the both of us.”

“I got you a new pair of jammies, the lilac set this time,” he said. Russell’s smile grew as yours did, his arms lifting you off the ground, bringing you to eye level. “You deserve all the good things in life, qark.”

“I think we got something pretty good starting right here,” you said, kissing him once, Russell humming.

“I couldn’t agree more, baby. Couldn’t agree more.”

__________

[mortish-writes]

Here's a scene from the Nightborn Edition of Night VI that will be quite hard to get. It's one of the less-intuitive Valdricht MF branches. I won't spoil all of it, maybe you'll discover it for yourself. I always love the banter between the Zealot MC and Serax, but she can hold her own with Valdricht, too. Mostly. Excerpt:

"Thank you," you whisper, your chest swelling. "Do you think you could help me put it on?"

Valdricht steps behind you, taking the veil from your hands. His fingers are deft and sure as he drapes it over your head, arranging the folds so they fall neatly.

The veil is more sheer than you'd like, offering only the suggestion of modesty rather than its true comfort. Still, as it settles over you, the gnawing edge of your nerves eases.

As he moves back in front of you, Valdricht draws the veil back slightly. "I only ask that you do not cover your face when we are alone."

You nod, biting your lip as you stare up at him. "You could kiss me if you like." You wet your lips. "I only mean, I wouldn't stop you."

Heat floods your face the moment the words leave you. You want to snatch them back, to understand what possessed you to offer yourself so freely—but it's too late.

"I do not think that is a good idea."

"Right, yes, of course. I'm sorry." You exhale a bit too deeply. "I thought, after what we discussed earlier, about being lovers and such, you might be interested in such a thing."

"So you are agreeing to be my lover?"

You swallow. "I… I don't know, maybe?"

His eyes narrow. "I do not need to marry you to have you in my bed?"

"I would greatly prefer if you did. Marry me, that is."

"A preference is not a requirement."

"Perhaps not," you say, fretting with your veil. "But should a gentleman not honor a woman's preferences?"

Valdricht arches a brow. "You believe I am a gentleman?"

"What I believe," you say, your hands clenching, "is that you are mocking me."

"I am not mocking you," he says, hooking a knuckle under your chin. "I am educating you."

"What sort of education is this?" You intend to sound angry, but something about his touch makes your tone turn petulant.

Patiently, he says, "I told you that I wanted you as my lover. You countered my request, asking to become my wife. You put me in the position of weighing my desire to bed you against my reluctance to marry you. You made an audacious demand of me."

"I am aware," you mumble.

"The fact that I did not instantly reject you should have told you that you had leverage over me. And yet, just as I am preparing to offer you matrimony, you undercut your own position by admitting that you will give me what I want without offering you anything in return."

"Ah," you say, holding up a finger. "But now you have undercut your position. Now that I know you were planning to offer me matrimony, I will accept nothing less."

"Perhaps," he says with a slight shrug. "Although, I could easily test your resolve, walk away, and see how long it will take for you to follow."

[towriteloveontheirarms]

After Nightfall (dark!modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: Her low, raspy voice is light-hearted and though you know she is joking, you can´t shake the feeling of the hair at the nape of your neck standing up and the skin on your arms prickling.

“I´m fine.” You mutter rather dismissively. Taking a large gulp of the pretty, pink drink in front of you. (side Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

warnings: non-con, confessions, angst, smut, semi public sex, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), p in v, afab reader

word count: 4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @legitalicat

(If you want to be tagged for any specific character/series/fandom or in general on my fanfic or moodboards let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: This one is a little darker so if you don´t feel in the right mindspace to read this right now there is no shame in klicking away and maybe come back another time. I love you all!

Dividers by @djarrex

“Okay, I´m gonna say something right now, yeah? But you can´t judge me for it. No matter how controversial it.” You say, barely holding back the nervous giggles as you look at Helaena with a look that made her promise.

“We listen and we don´t judge.” She holds up her palms defensively.

It makes you feel safe enough to burst out the confession. “I´m so desperate I might have gotten turned on by how Aegon looked at me earlier.”

The words almost jumble together by how fast they get pushed out of your lungs. Followed by a squeak and your hands coming up to hide your burning face at the sight of the immediate shock written onto your friend’s face.

“No! You can´t mean that. Seriously? Aegon?” She asks over a disbelieving laugh and bulging eyes. Her mouth gaping ever so slightly at the revelation.

“Yes, Aegon! And you said you wouldn´t judge…” You whine, barely able to hold back a chuckle of your own as you lower your hands to look at your friend again.

“I´m not judging. I´m just… asking.” The blonde woman across the kitchen table defends herself. “Because you know he has been flirting you since we were old enough to know what that is, right?”

Your response is a heavy sigh. “I know, I know. But I dare you to have a dry spell this long, filled with only bad dates and not start getting thoughts when someone undresses you with their eyes so openly any chance they get.”

“Please, you gotta have some standard left. What happened to ‘I wouldn´t even touch him with a ten-foot pole’?” Helaena pauses and looks to the side. “Oh, hi Aemond.”

You follow her gaze and see that her younger brother had just entered the room. Waving back at him as he nods to the two of you in greeting whispering a soft hey.

According to Helaena he had always been shy towards strangers and had stayed so even in your grown age now. But you were by far no stranger anymore. Helaena and you had been friends since first grade, and you had accompanied the family on multiple visits to their summer home. In all fairness you thought it was kinda cute how nervous he seemed to be around you. The way he stuttered and blushed gave a bit of life to his otherwise cold and rebelliously emo looks. And a crush never hurt anyone. Most times at least. There was a reason why anyone barely ever talked about the cases when it did. Aemond leaves the two of you alone and you continue the previous discussion. This time around you can´t shake the feeling of a gaze burning into your back though. Any time you turn around to the entrance though, there is no one to be seen.

“Are you okay?” Helaena asks with a huffed chuckle, tilting her head to the side. “Scared Aegon heard you and makes your wishes come true?”

Her low, raspy voice is light-hearted and though you know she is joking, you can´t shake the feeling of the hair at the nape of your neck standing up and the skin on your arms prickling.

“I´m fine.” You mutter rather dismissively. Taking a large gulp of the pretty, pink drink in front of you.

Together the two of you head outside to the pool side where you lay down on the sun chairs. Your body, clad in a skimpy one-piece bathing suit, barely hidden underneath a cover up is covered in goosebumps. Despite the comfortable warmth left by the sun. After a while of trying to relax, one last shiver runs down your spine and the previous uncomfortableness is gone. Like someone has pushed a switch. Thoughts of why you are so hung up on something like this persist though. Running around your brain in circles. Thinking about it deeper you realize that this wasn´t the first time you had felt like that in the house or on the premises. You had always chalked it up to the house being massive and old and someone has once been spying on someone else around here somewhere hundreds of years ago. Like in the Middle Ages or something. But now it did feel so much like that anymore.

A week later you find yourself in much a similar spot. This time a few hundred miles further south. The whole Hightower-Targaryen family had left for their summer home once more and as Helaena´s friend of course the invitation was extended to you as well. The reach was nice, and Helaena and you have always spent nothing short of memorable vacations there. However, this time around it´s too hot to do anything. Anything but try to keep body temperatures as low as possible by dangling your feet in the pool and enjoying ice cold drinks while gossiping with your best friend. And you weren´t about to complain about that. Not if it came served with this gorgeous environment that you couldn´t afford in a thousand lifetimes.

The two of you spend barely any time away from the pool unless it is to sleep. So, it is no wonder that it goes entirely unnoticed that by halfway through the vacation most of your underwear has gone missing. Disappearing right from the guest room into thin air while you were sprawled out and exchanging glances over a cigarette or your sunglasses with Aegon. Meanwhile, Aemond's absence goes unnoticed. Disregarded as something normal. The perfect excuse to spy on you. One hand down his pants, rubbing furiously at the straining length. A used pair of your panties wrapped snugly around it. His one good eye roaming over your strategically placed inviting figure splayed out on the sun lounge. The free hand props him up against the wall beside the window. With frantic motions he spills himself into the lace fabric, a subdued whimper filling the empty room, just as you rise to your feet. Shedding the cover up and throwing it to the side to dive into the pool. With ragged breaths Aemond buries the soiled fabric at the bottom of the laundry basket and moves away from the window. Before anyone can look up and see him. He almost felt bad at his actions. Almost. The tingling of pleasure left behind in his limbs from his previous actions did well to mask any other feeling. He doesn't realise how lucky he is to not get caught for so long.

“What the fuck?” You whisper under your breath on the last day of the vacation.

You had just walked into your room in the middle of the day to get your sunglasses which you had forgotten to grab before heading out with Helaena. Only to find one of your panties, which by now you had noticed gone missing, laid down perfectly on the large bed. The lacy fabric standing out against the beige of the bedsheets and standing out from the colour of the lace underwear, white stains. Well not quite dried into stains yet but rubbing the fluid between your thumb and forefinger leaves no doubt as to what was currently soaking into the fabric. For a moment you stand there as your mind races with thoughts of who could have done this. You hadn't seen anyone but Helaena and, very briefly that morning, her mother Alicent so anyone could come into question. And for your own mental health your brain settles on Aegon. Taking it as a hint, a consequence of flirting for the entire vacation with it not going anywhere yet. It's the least unsettling possibility to think about and being honest with yourself, the drop that made the cup overflow, in a way. Nevertheless, you tuck the panties into a safe place and head out again. Wanting to make use of the fact that the day was finally cool enough to go out and enjoy some time somewhere other than on the brink of heat stroke no matter the precautions.

Helaena and you are out all day. Being greeted by her brothers when you come back in the evening. Revealing the house was all yours for the last night as their mother and grandfather had to go back just a little earlier for business in the morning. The glint in Aegon's eyes tells you exactly what that means even before he pulls the neatly rolled joints out of his pocket. Smoking with him wasn't anything strictly restrained to the times when Alicent and Otto were out of the house, but with them gone it could be done a lot more openly and without having to worry about the smell. Outside, on the wide-ranging lawn, laid back on a large blanket. It was one of the rare occasions that the four of you all came together. And even rarer was that it happened in peace. There was no sibling fighting, which especially with Aegon and Aemond was so rare you thought about celebrating every time it did.

After dinner the four of you would head out into the garden. Everyone carrying some snacks or drinks, ready to enjoy a peaceful last night. Passing around the joints, revelling in the smoke filling your lungs and laying a veil over your brains as you slip into separate conversation. Beside you Helaena and Aemond start a deep talk that you only listen in on every nnow and again. Meanwhile Aemond watches you and Aegon laugh over the most stupid shit. Muttering jokes under your breaths to each other, leaning forward to be closer to each other. He grinds his teeth as you playfully shove his older brother by the arm and play with your hair. Aemond was sure that even with the weed numbing your senses Aegon couldn't ever possibly be that funny. The blood boils through his veins at the sight and yet he can't take his eyes off you.

Even if the others notice it, you don’t, and they don't say anything. There is nothing to a harmless flirtation after all. Soon enough Helaena bows out and seeing as you just pluck the joint from between Aegon's lips, Aemond stands up as well with so much as a growl and balled fists, though unlike his sister he doesn't head inside directly. Instead, he hides somewhere halfway to the house. Unable to take his eye off you.

With the others gone the tension between you and Aegon grows heavier yet, coming to a peak since you have started flirting weeks ago. And at the same time both of you are suddenly flooded with uncertainty on how to continue, but your hands twitch. Eager to make contact with the other's body. Slowly you inch closer to where you are sitting across from him until your feet stand on each side of his legs. When he doesn't move away, your hand inches closer until the pads of your fingers feel the surprisingly soft skin of Aegon's inner thigh right underneath the hem of his linen shorts. Instantly his leg twitches, leaning into it further just a second later. Aegon's legs spread a little more to allow his upper body to lean closer to you. Barely audible whimpers escape him at your ministrations and the way his hard length rubs against the inside of his shorts. Taking one last puff of the joint between your fingers, you carefully put it aside. Pressing the now free hand against his lips to keep him as quiet as possible.

“Ssshhh, wouldn't want anyone to catch us. Would we?” You whisper. Unable to hold back a giggle at the eagerness behind Aegon’s responding nod.

Your hand wanders to the apex between his thighs. Cupping the clothed, hardened length to provide just the smallest amount of stimulation. Aegon´s hips buck off the ground in response to it, searching for more of it. Then you feel his tongue against your fingers. Licking first but quickly wrapping around two digits. Sucking them into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. This time it is your lips that leave out an affected whimper. The hand between his legs trembling as it opens the button and pulls down the zipper to take out his cock. Under Aemond´s hidden but ever watchful gaze, you lick your palm before wrapping around Aegon´s length, pumping it up and down at a teasingly slow pace. The same time as Aemond´s hand finds its way into his own pants. Imagining himself in Aegon´s stead at that moment as he grips onto the wall beside him and biting his lower lip to ground himself so he wouldn´t be heard whimpering as he mimics your hands speed. Thinking how soft your hands would be, how they would look wrapped around his arousal.

A pleased sigh brings him back to reality. A reality in which Aegon had just buried two fingers in your heat. Your head falls forward being half obscured by shadows, still even from afar it is visible how your jaw hangs open loosely around the sound that has just escaped. With a wet pop, you pull your fingers away from Aegon's mouth. Holding onto his shoulder to keep yourself upright instead.

“Please, faster.” Aegon whimpers just loud enough for you to hear.

The words broken up. One soft spoken and one whispered desperately. His fingers curling inside your velvety channel, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your clit as added encouragement. Electric shocks zap through your legs, thighs snapping shut to keep his hand in place, making it hard not to give in to his plea. Almost instantly your hand begins pumping faster up and down his girth. And so does Aemond. Listening to the quiet, but lewd sounds from your mouth. Letting them spur him on, drive him closer to the edge of his pleasure. Shutting his eye tightly, Aemond bites his lip to keep silent as ropes of cum shoot from his cock. Imagining painting your face instead of the concrete underneath his feet. Only a few moments before Aegon and then you reach your peaks as well. So, while you two are still distracted by catching your breaths and fixing your clothes, Aemond slips into the house.

You make your way inside shortly after. Alone, to not raise suspicion. Face still warm and body tingling with satisfaction, when you quite literally walk into him in the hallway to the guest rooms.

“Oh, sorry.” You apologize in an instant, stumbling back a few steps.

Feeling a cold wall press against the warm skin of your back, you subconsciously run a hand through your hair. Your lashes flutter and your slightly parted lips release a breath as you look up at him. He catches your scent, weed and sweat but still that warm scent that is uniquely you and it's like a flip is switched in Aemond's brain. His eye visibly darkens when it roams over your form and suddenly the air in the hallway feels cold. He had always been taller than you, but in this moment, standing with a straight back Aemond towers over you even more. A small gasp escapes your lips as one of his hands connects to the wall right beside your face.

“A-Aemond what…?” Your eyes search his.

The only answer you get at first is a deep growl. “It sounds so good when you say my name.”

“What are you doing?” You demand to know though the demand is undermined by the whispering tone of your voice.

The change in his behaviour pulls the rug from underneath your feet and it feels like you are struggling not to fall into a gorge. Feet half over the edge, arms flailing and body struggling to keep from falling forward. Only to be given the last missing push by his following words.

“You are so pretty.” Aemond mutters lowly against your lips. “Aegon couldn´t ever worship you like you deserve.”

You gasp. At the closeness and at the possibility of him having seen what you did in the garden. Or if it was simply a reaction to having seen you two talk. The thought of having been not only caught but also watched in the act sends a cold shower down your spine. Shuddering as Aemond moves ever so slightly closer until there is barely any room for air left between the two of you.

“Not like I could.” He lets out a raspy growl. “Gods, I´m crazy for you.”

A flip switches in your own brain that moment, your eyes widening as you think back to the disappearing underwear and the ´gift’ you had found on your bed earlier. The likelihood of Aegon being the culprit being eradicated at a rapid pace.

“What are you saying?” You ask again.

This time with a less shaky voice. You just have to make sure, even though your mind still refuses to fully accept.

“You already know, darling. I know you found my little present for you. Seeing you walk around in these skimpy bathing suits every day for two weeks… It´s no wonder I can´t control myself.” Aemond cups your cheek in one hand when he answers.

There is a small smile turning the corners of his mouth upwards. It makes you break out in a cold sweat. Had he been the reason why you had felt watched at any given moment too? A stupid question with an obvious answer, but your mind races. Helplessly questioning everything that ever happened, every word exchanged. Somehow trying to find the fault in your own actions when there was none.

“Why?” You are sure you don´t want an answer to that question, but it is out before you can hold it back.

“Because you were stuck seeing me as nothing but the little boy I was when you and Helaena became friends. So busy looking for love anywhere but right in front of you…” He rasps, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

Your eyes widen even further, body frozen in place from the act that is so saccharine and so in contrast to the whole situation that you can´t help but feel the need to run. Damned to be stuck in the moment.

“I could give you everything you want. Everything you need.” Another peck is stolen from your lips.

Then one is placed against your cheek, and another to your jawline, your teeth instantly clenching. And then more follow down the side of your neck.

With no fight put up against from your side, as you are unable still stuck in your position pressed against the wall, his hand has free reign to leave your cheek and gently push up the flimsy shirt you are wearing. His touch is feather light and reverent. Tracing the soft skin around your areolas and then closing in around your nipples. “Aemond…” You whimper, trying to lean away from him but being stopped by the wall still in your back. “I´ve loved you for so long. Let me show you.” He takes you into the nearest room and lays you onto the bed. Your body listening to him more than your own brain. It´s easy giving into him. To just let him do what he wants and in the morning you would all leave anyway. It's almost warm. His touch. His palms roaming up and down your sides in soothing circles. Mirroring the sentiment of his previous words. On the inside though nothing can pierce the cold dread at what is to come first. Then there is a strange calm settling inside you. There is no stopping him and getting away with it. Not realistically.

Aemond quickly discards of your shirt before gently laying you back down again. His tongue traces down over the pulse point at the side of your neck in an instant. Alternating it with wet, open-mouthed kisses once he reaches your collar bones. A shiver runs through you as he nibbles on your breasts and suckles on the nubs atop until the are standing hard at attention. Only then he steadily goes lower, from the valley between your mounds over the soft expanse of your stomach, down to the waistband of the maxi skirt that covered your legs. His hands follow down your sides at the same pace as his hands. Pulling down all the fabric that separates your skin from his direct touch, without ever taking his lips away.

Your thighs, which are pressed together tightly, but at the gentlest tap of his fingers against them, they open. Mentally bracing yourself for the intrusion of his fingers that follows shortly after. Tracing two slender digits along the slit, gently pushing them inside the warmth of your core. The velvety walls clamp down on his fingers until you will them to relax. Aemond´s breath shudders, fanning over the growing wetness as he watches his fingers disappear into the channel with rapt attention. His thumb laying on your clit to rub gentle circles into it.

It feels wrong. The wetness that begins to collect between your thighs and coats his fingers. It shouldn´t be there. You shouldn´t be there. And yet it still is, you still are and as if with a mind of its own, your body writhes against the soft sheets. The whimpers that fall from your lungs feel foreign, drawing the attention of his gaze upwards. In return your eyes screw shut tight. There is no need to look at him to know of the desire etched onto his sharp facial features and shimmering in his eye. You try instead to think yourself out of this room. Imagine you are anywhere but in this room, at this moment. Only to be brought back by the sound of his belt buckle.

Aemond doesn't even take the time to undress. Barely pulls out his still hard cock and runs it against your slit before aligning it with your entrance. The tip breaches your channel, when one of his hands props him up beside your head and the other finds your cheek.

“Look at me. Please.” He urges you, waiting until your eyelids flutter open to continue talking. “I love you. I mean it. I love you so much.” Stealing a kiss from your lips once more, Aemond pushes his length inside of you until he bottoms out. Visibly revelling in the whimper that forcefully pushes past your lips. There is a moment of pause, in which he lets you get used to the feeling of his cock inside of you, that is filled only with the sound of both of your breathing and the rustling of the sheets beneath you. The rest of the house is deadly quiet.

When he begins to move, your body is shaken by every languid, smooth roll of his hips. The cold silver chain with the small seven-pointed star pendant dangling just over your face.

“You feel so good.” Your nails dig into the mattress when you hear the whispered words.

Damp palms pressed against silk sheets, forcing your eyes to keep looking at him like he wants no matter how much your head aches to turn away from him. It´s like a mantra echoing in your mind repeatedly. It´s gonna be over tomorrow, just make it until tomorrow. But seconds turn into eternities underneath his muscular frame, held in place with only one of his hands laid gently against your cheek. The thought alone is sickening. And the coil that winds in your stomach makes you feel even sicker at yourself and the world. Nevertheless, it coils tighter. And tighter and tighter. Much to Aemond´s delight. Whose erection twitches eagerly once he pulls out. The hand beside your head gets taken away, back to your clit to resume rubbing circles into the swollen flesh. Only a few to force you over the edge, all while he grinds his soaked cock against your slit.

With a needy whimper from above, his release painting your lower stomach in white splatters.

For a moment there is only huffed breathing as he remains hunched over you for a bit longer. Then Aemond rolls of you. Pulling you with him to lay on your side, hugged securely against him. Your eyes burn when you finally get the chance to hide your face from him. Your breathing staying at its laboured pace long past his, but not a single tear crosses your lower lash line. And in another miracle, you can even force yourself to fall asleep beside him. His confessed feelings and all he had done ringing in your ear the entire time.

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3)

Prev. - Next Chapter

-> context: you like this show

-> fandom: cookie run kingdom

-> warnings/tags: female reader, shadow milk

“Ladies, gentlecookies, and those somewhere in between!”  Shadow Milk Cookie bellowed, “I present to you: the Life of Y/N Cookie! Based on real-ish events! Told with 43% accuracy, give or take—mostly take!”

A cardboard cutout slid dramatically onto stage, bearing an uncanny resemblance to you with a bright smile and a sparkle in the frosting. Then came the others, one with long black icing hair and red detailing, another with floury white dough and eyes closed in calmness, a pink one with a halo and wings, and an intimidating one in a full helmet.

“Long, long, LONG, ago, there lived six llllegendary beasts! Burning Spice Cookie, Mystic Flour Cookie, Eternal Sugar Cookie, Silent Salt Cookie, the one and only Shadow Milk Cookie, and our charming guest… Y/N Cookie!!!” 

The four other cookies left, the stage scattered with cardboard cutouts of pastel sunsets, overly dramatic scenery, and a poorly drawn cardboard version of a fancy dinner table with jellybean wine glasses. “But since this is the most beautiful act of them all, who cares about them?! This is our tragic, sweet, sugar-glazed tale of our rrrrromance!”

A glitter bomb popped loudly, sprinkling all over the stage and when it cleared, two cardboard cutouts popped up. One of him, looking heroic, and one of you, drawn with extra sparkles and hearts for eyes. “Our eyes met across the battlefield of broken dreams and cookie crumbs. Her frosting? Like stardust. My heart? Already melting.”

This felt oddly familiar. Like déjà vu. Like you had seen this before. Had you really done this in the past? A smile tugged at your lips before you knew why. It was like a song you half-remembered from a dream.

“She said to me, ‘Oh, Shadow Milk Cookie, your dough smells like moonlight and your hat is extra jingly today.’” Shadow Milk gasped dramatically as if it was the most romantic sentence ever spoken, “And I said, ‘I’d juggle flaming licorice sticks for you!’ Which I did, might I add!”

A cardboard cutout of juggling flaming sticks burst into view behind him, and even though it caught on fire, he was still looking at you behind the curtains to watch your expression. “We danced under the moon during the night of her whole kingdom’s celebration!” Cue a cardboard moon on a string being lowered from above.

‘Her kingdom’? You had a kingdom? You were a queen? Apart of royalty? You were so confused. From what you got from Shadow Milk, though you weren’t sure if it were true, you used to be a beast- whatever that was-, you used to be his romance partner, and you used to be royal… Odd.

“We kissed in front of her whole entire kingdom!” Two cardboard cutouts smashing into each other with loud kissing noises he made himself. You found yourself chuckling to yourself, and although you couldn’t see it, Shadow Milk’s grin widened by a large amount.

There it was! That’s it! That’s the laugh! He’d missed that sound. He used to always make you laugh so hard, even when he was the… Fount of Knowledge… The title left a foul taste on his tongue and that alone urged him to clear his throat and continue.

“And then… the moment of destiny!” His excited voice dropped to a dead serious tone, “The stupid witches who ruined our moment.” The cutout of you dropped down dramatically onto the stage and a grey colored tree as well as a cookie with horns and white hair appeared. 

“But thankfully, this other cookie released us and then I ended up getting free and blah blah blah, WHO CARES?! Because sadly-” Another Shadow Milk cardboard cutout appeared, this time with a teardrop under his eye. You furrowed your brows. So you… You knew him before you were trapped? And that tree… It was so familiar…

“I was released without my sugar puff! And she surely missed me too, as I thought! BUT NO! Betrayal! Heartbreak! Probably a fire!” A paper heart was suddenly lit on fire (Whether it was on purpose or not you didn’t know) and a stagehand quickly put it out with a cotton candy bucket.

A cutout of a pale green heart then appeared on stage, “BECAUSEEEEE she pulled out her Soul Jam and left me in Act One! She vanished without a monologue! WITHOUT CLOSURE!” Cutouts of a weird looking creature and a pointy hat also appeared on stage. You recognized the cardboard cutout as the witches.

The witches… It was their fault you were like this? Why you couldn’t remember anything? Why you had to learn your name again from a stranger (But maybe he wasn’t a stranger?) and why you couldn’t tell if this cookie had been the cookie you’d been dreaming about for years? The Witches? Rage boiled within you and you almost stood to get up before Shadow Milk continued again.

“Ahem… Thank you Enchantress Cookie for releasing us but for also releasing my sugar puff…” He muttered under his breath, “ANYWAYS! I’m so so so so so so SO glad my Y/N Cookie is here! Give it up for our leading lady!” Shadow Milk appeared on stage, a grin still apparent on his face, as the lights then shined towards you.

You turned your head away, lifting your hand to shield yourself from the light. The ‘crowd’ clapped and cheered wildly, proud to be in your presence. It was so weird to be in this… Situation. It was almost… Comical. The delivery, the cardboard. It was stupid but… It made you laugh.

And of course, it was also familiar because somewhere in that chaotic mess… Was truth. But it’s unsettling that he’s romanticizing moments you barely remembered, and it’s also sad because there seemed to be some bittersweetness behind this whole… Show. And it was all, unmistakably, yours.

“But now you’re back, Y/N!” Shadow Milk said, his smile more genuine, “Our second act will be even better than the first.”

The audience applauded and cheered even louder, giving a standing ovation to the cookie that stood center stage. Shadow Milk bowed low, basking in the sugar sweet applause and the candy flowers tossed at his feet. He clearly basked in the glory and praise, but you didn’t know he was looking for yours in particular. And as soon as he found it, it was almost as if everything else vanished like powdered sugar in the wind. 

The cookie lifted his head with a sense of hope he hadn’t felt in a long time. And as he spotted you up in the main balcony also standing and clapping with a smile on your face You were smiling. For him. Just like you used to. His breath hitched. That one expression, that curve of your lips… He waited lifetimes for it and could wait even more. 

Oh, he hadn’t felt this way in a long time, he hadn’t felt so… Relieved? Content? Whatever it was, he wanted to hear your voice first! Shadow Milk teleported from off the stage, leaving you slightly confused. Where was he now?

“Sooooo? What did you think about our show, sugar puff?” A voice behind you asked.

You paused, turning around to see Shadow Milk’s tilted face a centimeter too close to yours. You backed away, eyes wide, and looked back at the stage of where he had once been. “I…”

“Was it beautiful? Tug at your soul jam- Well, you don’t have it anymore so I guess that doesn’t make sense- But still! Did it stir your frosting?” Shadow Milk asked, walking forward with an expectant look.

“I… It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” You answered carefully.

Shadow Milk paused, clearly not expecting that answer but taking it as positive feedback nonetheless. “Great! And do you like your outfit? I’m sure it fits perfectly, I would know… Unless you’ve grown since then… Hm… You wouldn’t mind me taking measurements right?”

“I- The outfit is perfect.” You said. For some reason, you just couldn’t get his name out of your mouth. It left a… Bitter? No… That wasn’t the right word… “Thank you, Shadow Milk Cookie.” Medicinal. That was the word. Thick, syrupy, unpleasant, but also… Sweet. Artificially sweet but sweet nonetheless.

Shadow Milk Cookie’s eyes widened, along with the ones along his hat. “Oh how I love it when you say my name! Don’t worry, sugar puff, you’ll be saying it a lot now that you’re here!” He grinned.

“I’m staying here?” You asked, a frown now on your lips. You didn’t expect Shadow Milk to keep you around, well, maybe you did considering he must’ve liked you enough to put on this whole production for you and also because you had been his romance partner in the past. If you two didn’t exactly break up, did that mean you were still romance partners?

“Well of course! It’d be so so so so SO irresponsible of me to leave you out in Beast-Yeast without your memories! You need to get your abilities back too!” Shadow Milk Cookie explained.

“My abilities-?”

“I’ll explain it alllll after dinner! We need a feast for my leading lady after all!” Shadow Milk grinned, placing a hand on your lower back as if it had always belonged there. “Dinner awaits, sugar puff,” he purred. You followed, the warmth of his touch clashing with the chill crawling up your spine.

[talesfromawannabewriter]

Fruitful

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Inspired by art done by @evilmenshoe80)

Warning: Domestic Abuse

Adam was no stranger to pain. In fact, he would say that he was friends with the feeling. In an ironic sort of way.

Ever since he was first introduced to his first bride all he knew was pain. Which was truly something since they were ordained as husband and wife the moment, they opened their eyes.

He supposed that would explain why she immediately resented him. She wanted nothing to do with him or any of her given destiny. However, the angels pushed them to be together.

That is what caused her to lash out and take all of her frustration out on him. She would scream, hit, and hurt him in any way she could.

His only saving grace was the little angel who would fly down from Heaven and fill his life with joy as they played, laughed, and even sang together. Lucifer was possibly the only reason why he could still smile back then.

However, this happiness did not last.

Lilith discovered Adam's own personal guardian angel, and she was disgusted. Why should he have an angel?! Why should he be happy while she stayed miserable?!

That was when Lilith came up with a solution to her problem. Using her charms, she seduced Adam's angel and convinced him that he was nothing more than a brute trying to control her.

Because of the seraphim's dimwitted nature, he believed her and the two of them ran away from Eden and away from Adam. While he was glad that his abuser was finally at long last gone. He still wept over his only friend leaving him in the dust.

Not long afterward, he was given his second bride Eve. While she was beautiful and sweet he was so scared that she would leave too that he didn't allow himself to grow close to her.

Maybe if he did then she wouldn't have been tempted by the snake.

After she had bit into the apple and convinced him to do the same, they were kicked out of paradise for breaking the only rule given to them, and helping bring sin into the world.

After that, Adam had hurdled through one tragedy after the next. He thought that when he finally made it through the pearly gates, he thought that at long last his pain would cease.

But he was wrong.

Not even a few hundred years later and he was given a new task of guarding Heaven from sinners. He wouldn't have minded so much ridding scum from existence if it wasn't for the fact that he had to have annual meetings with the two people who ruined his life.

They made it no secret to torment him every chance they got. But what really hurt him was how they seemed to be happy with the other as well as loving.

It was what made his once warm heart turn cold as it hardened so badly that he didn't let anyone in it. Save for Lute who he was glad to have at least one loyal friend.

Then came the last extermination.

He knew that he should have just left the stupid brat alone but like an idiot he attacked her. Drawing Lucifer into the battle.

His words honestly hurt him far more than his fists. But what helped kill him, besides that sinner stabbing him, was the blank stare Lucifer gave him the whole time.

As if his death meant nothing to him...which it probably didn't.

Soon, he could feel the cold embrace of death take him once more. As his eyes slipped closed, so did his consciousness. The last thing he heard was his name being screamed by the only true friend he had.

--

"Time to wake up, little one."

Adam groaned as he woke up at long last. He didn't understand was the battle...just a dream?

"Open your eyes."

He hummed at the soothing voice. It sounded like Sera. What was she doing in his room?

Sera: Cmon, you can do it. Just open them.

Adam did as she requested and opened both of his eyes slowly. Only to immediately close them when he was greeted by the harsh blinding light.

Sera: It's alright, don't be afraid.

With a voice he hadn't heard in so long from her he felt his heartbeat lower as he slowly opened his eyes again. When the blurriness was gone he was greeted with such a sight.

In front of him was none other than the garden of Eden.

Adam gasped, not believing what his eyes were showing him. This...this can't be real...

Sera: Welcome to life first woman.

[overnightheartbeats]

They couldn't really see the waves from where they sat, but she could hear them in the distance and the calming effect was still the same. It was home. It was difficult, however, to not think of their afternoons at the waterfront - a safe space they built. "Everyone always says those sayings have truth to them, so maybe I'll need to start adopting the cooler head. You butting heads with someone? No way," her tone was light and joking, though deep in her heart, she knew that first week he mentioned must've been beyond difficult.

She wasn't sure he understood, because truthfully, she didn't really understand herself. But, Ivette left it alone because beyond confusion, she was also exhausted. How draining it was to let go of resentment, and be vulnerable with honesty. After a minute of silence, she answered. "You took the words right out of my mouth. Maybe, we can see each other as collaborators, hopeful friends?" After all, they were always good friends.

It wasn't much, but his use of we stunned her - something she didn't think she'd hear again. But, it was nice, like allowing him back in her life was regaining a piece of home. "I don't want to hold on to that anger, but it's hard, thinking of time lost. No, it's okay...I wouldn't want to put you through that, especially if my dad already left the hacienda. I'll need some time, but I'll talk to him."

Ivette sighed, the heavy feeling in her heart remained. She didn't have an answer, but the same thoughts he had, she did too. How could he ever believe she wouldn't have immediately said yes to the proposal, been front of that line with the tickets to go together? "I loved you more than anything, it tore me apart to know you left. I didn't want to believe it, but I don't know - the silence fed into it, and well, it's not like I could ask your mom. But, well, we'll drive each other crazy trying to make sense of that past." So, they sat together on that bench, listening to the waves in the distance. The morning breeze washing over them and taking with it, some of what she held on to, for so long. "It still is for me. I was down at the shore a few nights ago, and honestly, the moonlight and the waves, felt just as calming."

“In our defense, we were distracted at the party, and maybe a little intoxicated. We weren’t exactly looking for conversation.” When he extended his hand out, she glanced down momentarily before taking it and shaking his hand, gently squeezing it in silent reassurance that they would make progress. “Yeah I’ll admit that, outside looking in, it looked odd. I really hoped it wasn’t true, I’m glad it wasn’t.” And, that seemed to be the winner resolution between them. Understanding that sliver of the past while also understanding that it would forever remain there. Still, part of her claimed to be okay with that. Her pen pal would be proud of her, or so she liked to believe.

Work was the last thing on her mind still, but had meant what she said — she would help him, however she could, to fulfill that vision. “Do you feel up for it, a tour of the hospital? We could do it another day. If you agreed with the proposed changes to the hospital, and the program, then it might not need to be as thorough of a walk through.”

The ocean waves held a calm to them that Javi just couldn't get enough of. This now felt like old times when they'd come down the waterfront to talk and vent, sometimes make out before going home and their separate ways for the night. The question made him chuckle softly, "do what?" His eyebrows knitted together as confusion took over his features. "That saying of cooler heads actually do prevail. He'll tell you how we butted heads that first week."

"You don't have to explain, truly I understand. But, putting it out there I didn't see you as just a one night stand. If you ask me what I saw you as then I don't know." Was she a girlfriend? Ex? Someone he still wanted. He couldn't pinpoint. "But we'll figure it out. I know you're mad at him and you do have the right to be. But, what I'm saying is don't hold onto that anger. Find some way to get through it. I don't want you to lose your dad like that. I'd try to talk to him but I guess he sees me as someone that will fuck you up."

Javi felt his heart break hearing that. "I loved you so much, Ivy. How you'd think I'd leave without saying goodbye. I don't know how you could think that." he smiled and nudged into her. "Guess I'm bringing you home." Another crash of a wave had him sigh. "Remember that was such a calming sound before."

"It's okay. I'm not holding your former thoughts against you. I know how it looks like from the outside looking in. Prodigal son makes epic return. How would you know I wasn't my mom's second in command. I just wanted a moment to explain it for myself. We didn't get the chance at the party but look at us, progress." He extended his hand out for her, something he'd missed in those years apart. Maybe Zeke had a point. If he refocused his attention, maybe Marina would be somewhat of his second chance.

[hcneymooners]

hello, hello.

i've been debating making this post, but i’ve been thinking a lot about how my work often references God, religion, faith in general, and all the things in between. as someone raised in both the south and caribbean culture, i thought maybe this could be helpful for others trying to navigate queerness and religion—especially the mess and clarity that come with deconstruction.

note: this isn’t meant to tell anyone how to feel about faith or how to navigate their own path—this is just what’s been true for me. if it helps even one person feel a little less alone or a little more seen, then that’s enough. read with grace, take what you need, and leave the rest behind.

for a long time, i aimed to be good. good at school. good to people even when it meant letting them take advantage of me. i convinced myself that as long as i was pure, i would be okay. that it was that simple, and that somehow, i’d figured it out before anyone else. but i didn’t account for anger. or desire. or being a lesbian. what did lana say in that one song? “we had a deal and i fucked it up when / i made the decision to become someone.” so here's a little of my survival guide. for context, i was raised roman catholic.

first comes the work of reshaping the imagery. i released the God of my childhood and awakened the God of my womanhood. i began to replace “him” with “her,” then “Him” with “Her.” i already know some might see that as blasphemous, but it made praying easier which was something i wasn’t ready to lose. the universe is God to me. the universe is love, and so is God, and so i trust Her. She is Him, and He is Her. the universe, to me, can also be a woman who has big eyes and a dark face and makes me feel like i might be staring into myself. it’s easier to come back to God when i picture it differently. when i strip the man to the bone and rebuild into the woman i see, it’s so much easier to pray. she feels like my mother.

"offline or online, i am still connected." i think that’s how i feel about faith; i’m still connected to believing in something. it’s just that what i believe has changed and expanded. it doesn’t harm me. it helps me return to myself and shows me the way home. it’s easier to pray to Mary when i’m scared on a plane, to tell her that i know i’ll make it through because she wouldn’t place me in something i could not get through.

an altar can be anywhere. i used to feel guilty about not having a bible verse in my bio or the bible app on my phone. but i don’t need those things to make my prayer real. you don’t either. your love will pour out and stain the feet of the God before you, and They will wipe your mouth. They will understand that it’s prayer.

physicality. this was important to me when i was unpacking the feeling of being wrong or impure. if the universe condensed into one person, i’d ask her to lie down with me. we’d be pressed knee to knee and leg to leg. i’d think of her hips on top of mine, wide and inviting like the moon. i guess we are naked if i take a step back, but it’s not at all sexual. it’s just the understanding that she is holding me. babying me. and i’ve always wanted someone to. i will feel her touch me, and i’ll try to say thank you, because gratitude has been engraved in me. my mouth will move and nothing will come out, but she'll hear me.

the talking can be constant if you need it to be. i’m always speaking to God, about God, my understanding of it. it’s not organized. i haven’t constructed anything bigger than myself. restructuring kind of feels like waking up tangled in a spider’s web and standing carefully, your feet sticky as you navigate the threads. i took care not to break some of them but snapped others, creating space for new weaving. God becomes synonymous with the world, and you will find faith everywhere.

others may judge, but stick to what works for you.

another realization: it never really leaves you, and that’s fine. it’s also fine if you want to hold on.

sometimes faith blends. i work with water and have my crystals, listen to protection frequencies, and still buy my virgin Mary candle in all of its pink and radiant glory to light in the bathroom. i pray every time i board a plane, after a nightmare, or whenever a wave of unease hits. each time, it’s a Hail Mary.

also: resources. my God, find people who interpret with grace. below are some of my favorite blogs.

has content about faith: @ginwhitlock, @boykeats, @ohholydyke, ethel cain when she was active and i'm being so serious. has content that has made me see the world differently & renew faith in myself: @podencos @watermotif @cocainejuul @kristina100000 @eatpussypraylove @chloeinletters @anxeious

most importantly, i’m taking your hand until you can hold your own. i’m looking at you, because i really mean this: there is nothing wrong with you. you were nine. or thirteen. or fifteen. or twenty-one. or twenty-three. or. i’m saying it because i’d have given anything to hear that back then.

it would’ve been Heaven to me.

if you want to reach out, my inbox and messages are always open.

love you.

allyson. x

[hattersrabbit]

Hello! Idk if the request is open but I have some idea if you'd like to write, Liu Kang x goddess! Reader? While Liu Kang protects the earth, the reader protects the galaxy and barely visit earth to the point that she forgot that she haven't visit Liu Kang for more than just 1 year :D

(I'm sorry for the bad English) 💔💔💔

FOR EVERMORE

liu kang x reader | sfw

CW! female reader, romantic leaning, distant relationship, light angst but fluff galore

Summary! In events of the Mortal Kombat in Outworld you visit Earth. Only then do you realize just how much you’ve missed out, especially with Liu Kang, who’s missed you dearly

thank you for the request!

From your peak as a Omni Present being you saw everything. From where you were you could see that the age of Mortal Kombat was to begin.

Unfortunately from here you could never view it close. Your job was to watch over and not really interact.

However, still you made contact with them.

Across every timeline you were alone, and then he created a new universe; Liu Kang. The man was the guardian of Earth Realm.

He showed you knew things, and even let you create how the world was shaped.

You’re existence of goddess that has lived since ancient times and watching over everything he allowed your input.

Then throughout that time of building a universe you became close. Something more brewed in your hearts, and suddenly a bind between god and goodness was made.

Unfortunately duty calls so you took your place as the galaxy’s protector while he protected his humans, his friends.

Only then had you realized you missed him a lot. And was looking for some excitement. As a goddess of the galaxy you were lonely. So down you went to earth, to Earth Realm.

Arriving in a gown yet also fit for fighting. Looking like a true goddess amongst all the recruits.

People looking at you.

Four you recognized making with Liu Kang. Johnny Cage, ever the flirt. You enjoyed sculpting him.

Kenshi Takahashi, for he was a sad case. Perhaps the loss of his eyes would be lessened.

Raiden, a god previously that you had quite a good relationship with. It killed you that you were held back from helping and not losing his godhood.

Unfortunately things like that happened and couldn’t be taken back. Kronika warped it so that you couldn’t help.

You were glad someone like Liu Kang was Lord of this world. Glad he allowed you to help and hope something like that would never become again.

Then Kung Lao; the poor thing. You wondered just how sad Liu Kang felt every time he looked at him. It wasn’t his best friend but it was.

“Who’s that hot babe?”

“Johnny!”

You giggled hearing the exchange between Johnny and Kenshi. Kung Lao and Raiden stood still watching in awe.

“She’s like a goddess.” Kung Lao sung dumbfounded.

“Indeed I am, Kung Lao.” You patted his shoulder. His face erupted in red seeing you were in front of him right now.

“You know him?” Raiden asked. Kenshi and Johnny now looking at you with just as wide eyes.

“I know all of your. Goddess of the Universe and Galaxy, [ ] at your service.” You giggled seeing their expressions. It’s not everyday you meet a god with such powerful abilities.

Your name was loudly expressed from somewhere else. Turning you saw Liu Kang looking at you.

“Hello my love. Long time no see?” A wave you gave him. “Continue as you were.” You bowed to the students and up to Liu Kang.

He took her hand and pulled you away into the temple, away from everyone that could possibly see you.

“You’re here.” Liu Kang whispered when he turned to you. His hands holding yours increasingly tight. As if you’d go away if he let go.

“Liu Kang? What’s wrong? I’m not going anywhere?”

So easy of you. As a goddess of the universe you were able to read people extremely well. Liu Kang sighed with a soft smile.

“My dear I’m trying to relish this time with you. I’m afraid that it’ll be a long time before I see you ever again.” Sadness was true in your voice.

In confusion you tilt your head. “Huh?”

His brows went up at your reaction. That sadness was mixed with admiration. “Silly you. Your sense of time is different from mine, isn’t it?”

“All that time alone in the universe rolls differently than here.”

Then everything clicked for you.

Hesitantly you asked; “How long has it been since you last saw me?” Your head going down slightly and looking up at him. Your own hands tightening on his.

“About 50 years my dear.”

You gasped. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed your worries away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Your job is very important, and your sense of time is different too.”

You looked at him with hopeful eyes, “You mean it?”

“Yes, my love.” Liu Kang pulled you into a hug. Your robes and gown flowing like waterfall against his own clothing. Skin against skin that hadn’t touched for years.

“I’ll try to visit more.” You promised, determined.

“Yes, but don’t ignore your work.” Liu Kang said amused.

“I won’t!” You said quite proudly.

You two never did remove from the embrace right now. Forever trying to partake in this moment. Savor it until its fullest because again, when would he see you again. When would you see him again.

Only time could tell and right now this moment mattered.

[demetera]

Why do fics have Katniss so badly want Katniss to help Peeta out of episodes, how does that compare with Katniss in District 13? Is their any precedent from that time?

Thank you so much for this question lovely anon :D

“Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips.”

“What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?” I tell him, “Real.”

“Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. ”

So… I’m starting off with a few quotes from the end of the series. The reason I’m doing this is to highlight a few points that are central to the heart of your question: Why do so many fics have Katniss so desperately wanting to help Peeta through his episodes?

Honestly, the entire book serves as proof for every Everlark fan that Katniss is essential to Peeta’s healing. As much as she possibly can be, given the state he was in after coming back...hijacked and broken.

Peeta, like most of the characters (not including Gale, obviously), is utterly ruined by the end. He loses his whole family. And while they weren’t especially close, Peeta is deeply emotional and layered. In the end, he becomes what he feared the most:

“I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I’m not.”

The only person who TRULY knows him, TRULY understands him, and can TRULY help him is our beautifully unreliable Queen, Katniss Everdeen. She’s seen the real him again and again, even when she tried not to. She still found her way back to him.

So yeah, writers are obsessed with this storyline because the series gave it to us as a major plot point. What do you think “Real or not real?” is? Exactly that. Katniss is his anchor—the thread that ties him to truth, to reality. She’s the one who helps him distinguish the real from the hijacked version of himself they forced into existence. And that took a lot of hard work. From him of course, let's not discredit my boy here.

So it’s no surprise that so many fics are based on this. So many of us loved, and still love, the idea of what happened next. How did they finally get to “We have each other”? We devour that storyline every time because it feels like the most authentic extension of the original books.

And something to remember Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch...they’re the ultimate “found family” in the series.

And just to close this off (apologies for the long note, reply, whatever this is), in the end, Peeta was alone. No family. No friends to turn to. Not even a true sense of self. Who did he have? Katniss. Who was also alone in her own way—her mother checked out, but that’s a whole other story.

Katniss was his forever “Real or not real.” And Peeta was her dandelion in the spring.

P.S. I absolutely adore Haymitch, but he couldn’t be what Peeta needed. Not in the way Katniss could.

[electricbluebutterflies]

kisses on the cheek + abbot/mohan

PG-ish and also on ao3.

Samira has never been a particularly talented liar.

In fairness, she’s never needed to be. She lives a quiet life, and she’s learned how to be tactful while still telling her patients what they need to know – a skill that’s gotten her a reputation, yes, but also the most consistently glowing patient feedback the ER has ever seen – and she doesn’t really…

Fine. So she’d never seen herself as a workplace-romance kind of person. Nobody ever does until it happens to them, right?

Point is, Samira is convinced that a casual entanglement with someone on a different shift who has no formal power over her is ethically fine, and Samira is also convinced that no one else she works with has any idea it’s happening. Samira is correct about one of those things, not both of them.

To her credit, she’s done alright keeping it hidden. She’s been seeing Jack for a few months now, and other than the fact that she stopped picking up random night shifts, she’s pretty sure nothing has changed at work. They’ve always had a comfortable dynamic, she’s convinced herself – she wouldn’t have gone for it and asked him out if she didn’t like the man, and-

Shift change, start of day. She needs to get through today and then she’s supposedly off three in a row – she knows better than to think that’ll actually happen, as far as everyone else here knows she has no personal life, so she’ll get two out of three scheduled days off and that’s still something – and so help her she is going to get through the next twelve hours without crying and-

“See you tonight?”

Correction – Samira is doing what she thinks is a great job keeping her relationship hidden. Her sorta-boyfriend – they have not had the define-the-relationship conversation yet – is barely even trying.

Samira is, and she has been told this by too many people so she knows it’s true, not naturally a confrontational person. Samira is not the kind of person to, say, pick a fight with her partner over something she knows was done with good intentions. This is a line for her, yes, but it’s not a line she’s bothered to bring up before, and-

“Careful. Someone might-“

“They know. They’ve all known for weeks.”

“I thought we were-“

“You really didn’t-“

“No?”

“I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. You’ve been here long enough, you know the vultures, and-“

“How badly is it going over?”

“Wait, no one’s said anything to you?”

Samira takes a deep breath, steadying herself against the lockers. “No. No one has said anything to me.”

“The vultures must like you. Last night alone I got three different threats of what exactly will happen to me if I even accidentally break your heart and I know for fact all three will follow through and-“

“You’re not planning to break my heart, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. I like you.”

If everyone knows, Samira decides – or if enough people know that everyone might as well, which is probably closer to accurate – then she has nothing worth hiding anymore. This is enough to justify her leaning in and kissing her partner’s cheek, nothing that counts as PDA but-

“Surprised how fast you changed your mind on that.”

“Did I mention how any times I’ve gone through the employee handbook to make sure-“

Jack returns the gesture, feathering a few kisses across her face, and there’s just something so playful about their dynamic sometimes and-

“I like you too. Whatever that’s worth.”

She’s pretty sure she’s going to melt into the floor, and this is not ideal timing, and-

“I think I’m okay with other people knowing abut us. I realize I don’t have a choice here, but… don’t tell anyone what I’m like in bed and I’ll get over anything else.”

“Understood. Any other…”

“No? I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t trust you.”

He takes a heartbeat of a mouth kiss, and when he pulls back he’s got that amused look in his eyes that first got her curious about him, and-

“Go get ‘em.”

“See you when I get off, then. I assume I’m coming over…”

“Yeah. If you still want to.”

“I may end up asleep on your couch, but-“

“Worse ways to spend an evening.”

Not many she can think of offhand – as far as she can tell, that couch was a curse of a wedding present, and Jack’s been widowed for a decade – but…

“See you then.”

[bratbarzal]

miss maggie i have loved every one of your fics (oys rarely leaves my brain lol) but I as a quinn girlie I fear what you’ll put us through (in a good way tho) with this one!! The header alone has me so ready 🫣🥰

I love you for this!! and I'm in a preview mood so enjoy lmao (subject to change while I figure the structure/pacing of the whole thing out)

--

Quinn watches as a soft, feminine hand places a drink down beside him, sliding it as much as it can reach towards Brock, and he doesn’t even think before he tries to help, unintentionally grazing the skin with the tips of his fingers as he moves it the rest of the way. And it’s only the quick retreat that captures his attention, his eyes slowly trailing up the expanse of the arm attached until he meets the gaze of the server.

Until he meets your gaze.

Wide-eyes, parted lips, and a surefire wash of recognition as he looks up at you from his seat, the sudden urge to shoot up to greet you tingling from the base of his spine to the top of his toes. 

The chatter amongst the table fades to a dull background noise, his friends blurring into faceless shapes around him, and all he can see is you - like some sort of delirious tunnel vision, if you weren’t looking back at him the way you are, he’d think he was imagining you.

He’d think he was willing you into existence, that he was picturing you in front of him because somewhere deep in his subconscious, he wanted to see you.

But if that were true, surely he’d be picturing you how you were. Fresh faced, hair lightened and skin freckled by the sun, probably dressed in those overalls you used to wear when you were helping him fix up the boat all those years ago, paint hardened on your fingers and nails bitten to stubs so they wouldn’t break from all the labour. He’d picture you with your hair tied back, loose pieces fallen down where you had little to no energy to neaten them back up, and bruises and scrapes littered all over your knees from where you kept tripping over all the tools he would leave lying around in his parent’s garage.

He wouldn’t be picturing you like this.

Your hair is darker than he ever remembers it being, longer than he remembers, too, falling in perfect waves past your chest, not a strand out of place and glistening under the low lights of the bar. You look older, a little more refined, with sharper features enhanced by makeup, and the more he stares, the starker the difference becomes. The clothes you wear seem less like a costume, less like something you use to cover yourself up and disguise what lies beneath - now cinched at the waist and cut off at the thighs - and, sure, it’s probably a uniform, but he could never have pictured you wearing anything like this back then.

Only one thing remains the same - one undeniable feature you could never hide from him if you tried.

The way your eyes soften when they meet his, just like they did back then - like they were always zeroing in on the good in him, and they refused to see the bad. Your gaze feels just as addictive as it was all those years ago, a gradual warmth spreading through his lungs, breathing in deeper than he thinks he might have in a long time, and the sensation fizzles out the second you break eye contact.

He still follows your every movement; the way you place his drink in front of him, and empty the tray in your other hand, smiling quick at someone else and letting everybody know to shout you over if they need anything more, and then he watches as you retreat without sparing him another glance.

“Think she’s hot for Huggy,” breaks through the noise, a low chuckle beside him as Brock nudges his side and the rest of the guys all laugh in response.

“Huh?” Quinn frowns, breaking his attention from where you had disappeared and turning to his teammate. 

“The waitress,” he clarifies, “She got all flustered at the sight of you, I knew you had silent game but seeing it in person is just strange, it was like you hypnotised her or something.”

If he had the power to put you under any sort of spell, he thinks enough time has passed that it’s worn off by now - and he knows as much from the way you reacted, breaking from his gaze and turning your back on him like it was nothing, like the two of you were nothing.

[universe-friday]

EXCERPT #80:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

I suppose I never truly said goodbye to Solus before they died… It’s a song I seem to be more and more familiar with these days.

But it feels far from appropriate to hold such a service for you, February.

After all, we may just see each other again.

I must tell you about this story I heard… One said to be of unrequited love and betrayal.

They say she seduced and betrayed her lover for self-gain. Called her greedy. Avaricious.

But it isn’t true.

There are always two people in this story. The woman and her lover.

Why must he be framed as the victim?

After all, he fell for her tricks; he knew exactly of what she was capable.

And when he wanted to prove his love, he was betrayed.

I would not say you have betrayed me, February. Far from it.

I know your tricks. I know of what you are capable.

Because they were never for me.

They were the tricks that fueled the flame. Your capabilities now charred by the fire.

You have left, February, oh so long ago… But you have not betrayed me.

I remain… Asleep on the floor, no men awaiting to capture me in your betrayal.

Yet, I feel your absence from beneath me, your breaths no longer fighting the silence.

I remain.

While you have not led me to my demise, February, I have proven my love many times, and yet I still await your call.

Waiting, I remain.

You have not betrayed me, no.

But you have left me in this empty room…

No one hidden, ready for my capture…

At least, perhaps, the company would have been nice…

But here I remain, alone, knowing that you did not run for greed, February.

You ran because you had to.

And that shall never be a betrayal to me.

[...]

[mikkomacko]

https://www.tumblr.com/mikkomacko/781824682866409472/lukes-girl-def-has-a-crush-on-nico-but-shes-so

does nico and reader ever find out? does luke ever ask her abt it?

Luke is not bold enough to ask but he does start paying attention and he for sure notices that she gets a little weird around Nico. Like she won’t look at him at all when he’s nearby but if he’s across the room or something, she’ll glance at him for a little too long.

He can’t outright ask her if she has a crush so he’ll probably just be like, “Are you ok with Nico and y/n? Like hanging out with them?”

“Yeah of course I love them!” She insists, “I just, I don’t know. Nico is kinda weird. Like has he ever smiled?”

Which isn’t exactly her admitting anything. It just means she’s noticed.

“Uh yeah,” Luke hesitates, “he does a lot when he’s just talking to y/n. Do you think he’s weird.”

She gives him a nervous look. “Kinda. I don’t know when I first met him it just felt like he was going to interrogate me or something.”

“Oh he’s just like that,” Luke promises, and then because he can’t stand not knowing, he keeps digging. “Nico notices everything. That’s why his face looks like that. He sees it all but he doesn’t want you to know he sees it all, he just wants you to think that. Even though he does.”

“He notices everything?”

“Yup,” Luke confirms, “everything. And if for some reason he missed something, y/n notices it. I think she can read minds, not gonna lie.”

Her face visibly pales. “Luke I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Ok please don’t be weird about it but I think Nico is really cute but he scares me a lot and I don’t know how y/n handles that but it drives me crazy!”

Luke is sort of grateful Johnny told him, that way he’s had time to sit with it, doesn’t freak out now that he’s actually hearing it. Because he really likes her, doesn’t want to mess it up being insecure.

“I think she actually likes that he’s scary,” he simply says, “those two are freaks. It’s probably a turn on for her.”

He side eyes her, “And I guess you too.”

“Oh my god,” she groans, face red. “Please don’t tell him, it’s stupid. It’s like you having a crush on Anne Hathaway.”

Which Luke doesn’t think is true because Anne is way out of his league (and area) but he doesn’t care that much.

He does care though that his girlfriend is too nervous to actually be around Nico so he does the unthinkable. He tells you and Nico.

Nico’s hold body goes rigid, nose scrunching up in displeasure.

“Aw that’s so cute!” You coo, cupping Nico’s face in your hands. “That’s why she’s so quiet with you.”

“She’s also scared of you,” Luke says and that makes Nico relax, lips pursing for a moment and he shrugs.

“Good,” he mutters, “then she’ll leave me alone.”

“Nico!” You gasp, “don’t be mean! It’s just a crush.”

He frowns. “I don’t like it. Only you and Johnny are allowed to have a crush on me and even Johnny I’m iffy about.”

“So you don’t know about Jack’s crush on you then?”

Nico’s eyes snap to his. “What?”

Luke freezes. “Nothing. Anyway, could you just be nice to her? A little bit at least. Or at least friendly? She doesn’t know how to act around you.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “Don’t worry Luke, M’not gonna steal your little girlfriend.”

“Don’t scare her away either.”

Nico looks at you and then shrugs, noncommittal. “We’ll see.”