#it was mae and her broken heart

[aemondwhoresworld]

MY LADY TYRELL

pairing: husband!aemond targaryen x wife!tyrell!reader ; cregan stark x tyrell!reader

requested by anon: Hii! Could you do a fic where aemond marries Tyrell!reader who was previously betrothed to cregan and was raised in the north to be lady stark but when her family got the offer to marry her to a prince they took it. In the north she was beloved by everyone and had cregan as her first love. But when she marries aemond she does end up falling in love with him and has sons with him that are just the peak of Targaryen features, like you would think aemond made them by himself. And for whatever reason the targs have to go to the north and so while on the kings road the targs finally get to see how deeply loved Tyrell!reader is in the north. When passing by lords keep’s the people in towns would come and flock to see their lady, the lords would come out and greet her as if she was their own blood, wildlings follow them on the road to ensure that no one mistreats their lady, house starks dire wolves ( let’s pretend they have them in this generation ) that belong to cregan that she helped raise hunt them down the moment they enter the north and protect her and her babes, and when they get to winterfell all the stereotypes that “starks and northerners are cold to all” are broken because even though cregan was professional to the royals he lights up like a little boy getting his favorite toy back again when he sees Tyrell ! Reader so it just shows that they are cold when they wanna to be.

warning: none | word count: 2,1k

feed back are appreciate but please be nice 🙇🏻‍♀️

request OPEN | mae TAGLIST

Marriage for love is a luxury among the nobility, as your dear mother once taught you. From the age of three and ten, you were sent to Winterfell to prepare for your fate — to become Lady Stark, the wife of Cregan Stark, who would rule the North. Initially, the cold land felt unfamiliar to you, but Cregan's kindness and warmth gradually melted the ice in your heart, and feelings for him began to blossom within your tender heart. Cregan became your first love.

However, you soon realized that Cregan had no special feelings for you. His gaze was always fixed on someone else—Arra Norrey, his childhood friend. You understood that Cregan’s heart did not belong to you, but rather than feeling lonely, you found comfort and support from the people of Winterfell. They accepted and loved you, making you feel like a part of this home.

When you turned seven and ten, a letter from Highgarden arrived. It was a rare warm day in the North. The letter was from your father, Lord Tyrell, requesting that you return home immediately. You couldn’t refuse your father’s request, despite the lingering attachment you felt for Winterfell.

After more than thirty long days on the carriage, you finally set foot back in Highgarden, the place where you were born and raised. Memories of the fragrant rose gardens, the warm afternoons, all came rushing back to you as you stepped through the grand gate.

As you entered the house, you were not greeted by the lively sounds of family, but by silence. Your father stood there, his back turned to you, his tall figure dominating the quiet space. Your heart beat faster, both eager and anxious. You stepped forward and gently called

"Father?"

Hearing your voice, he slowly turned around. In his eyes was a mix of joy at seeing his daughter again and something else, something difficult to grasp. He looked at you for a long time, as if measuring you after the years apart.

"You've returned, at last," he said, his voice warm but somewhat heavy, as if it carried secrets you were not yet able to understand.

You felt as if you had been pulled into the cold winds of the North once again. Your father's words left you stunned, your eyes widening in surprise. A marriage proposal from Prince Aemond Targaryen—a name not unfamiliar yet completely foreign to your imagination.

"Prince Aemond… Targaryen?" you whispered in disbelief.

"But Cregan and I —“

Your father interrupted, his voice firm but still gentle. "I know you and Cregan have a bond, but politics cannot be swayed by personal feelings. The future of our house is more important. This opportunity cannot be missed, especially when our connection with House Targaryen is something we need now more than ever."

You stood still, your mind swirling with chaotic thoughts. All the plans and dreams you had since childhood about life in Winterfell, about becoming Lady Stark—now they had vanished into thin air. Instead, a completely foreign future with the Targaryen dynasty awaited you.

"But… Aemond, I’ve never met him, father" you exclaimed, desperately searching for a way out of this sudden change.

"You will meet him soon," your father replied, his voice growing more resolute. "I have done what is best for our house, and for you. Prince Aemond is a strong warrior, powerful, and with a promising future in the realm. This marriage will bring great benefits to Highgarden."

You looked into your father's determined eyes, feeling a sense of helplessness creeping into your mind. You could clearly sense that, no matter how deep your feelings for Cregan were, the decision of the family would always be paramount. Unable to refuse, you had to accept this arrangement, as many noblewomen had done before you.

Aemond's soft voice pulled you out of the whirlwind of thoughts that surrounded your mind. You startled and looked up at him, realizing the worried gaze of your husband was fixed on you.

"Wife… wife," he called you, his tone tinged with confusion, as if he couldn’t understand why you were sitting there so lost in thought.

You tried to calm yourself, offering a gentle smile to reassure him. "I’m fine," you replied, your voice trying to sound steady, though your heart still felt a little unsettled. "Is Aerys asleep?" you asked, changing the subject, trying to shift your attention to your son.

Aemond nodded, his eyes still on you. "Yes, our boy is asleep," he answered, his gaze softening at the mention of Aerys.

You stepped closer to Aemond, feeling the warmth emanating from him. The distance between the two of you seemed to disappear, and you felt safe standing near your husband. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It helped you calm yourself, dispelling the lingering thoughts.

"I’m just a bit tired," you said softly, leaning into Aemond, allowing yourself to rest in his strength and steadiness.

Aemond gently wrapped his arms around you, his hand tenderly stroking your hair. "If you're tired, let's rest, my love" he whispered, his voice deep and full of care.

In that moment, all your worries, all the swirling thoughts vanished. What remained was the sense of safety and warmth that came from having Aemond by your side.

Yes, sometimes you still wondered how you could find happiness with Prince Aemond, after all the twists and turns in your life. You once thought that the betroth between you with Cregan would be the path you had to walk, but after that betrothal was canceled, your life took a different direction. With Aemond, the love of your life

At first, you didn’t think you could ever love Aemond — a cold, strong, and sometimes distant man. But as time passed, you gradually realized that behind that exterior was a warm heart, a husband willing to protect and love you. The affection between the two of you grew over time, and you gave your heart to Aemond without even realizing it.

The birth of Aerys — your firstborn son was proof of the love that you and Aemond had nurtured. Although the marriage may not have been your choice initially, it had now become a great source of happiness in your life. You felt fortunate to have Aemond by your side, and even more grateful to be the mother of his son.

Married life with Aemond wasn’t always easy, but it was love and mutual understanding that helped you overcome everything. You not only found happiness with him, but also discovered a small family of your own, something you never thought possible before.

The next morning, you were awakened by the clear laughter of Aerys, your 3-year-old son with Aemond, yours boy inherited all the beautiful features of the Targaryen bloodline. His laughter was full of joy, making you smile instinctively. Aemond, noticing that you had woken up, came closer and sat beside you.

“Good morning, my dear wife,” Aemond said with his deep, warm voice, then leaned down to kiss your forehead. His gentle kiss made you feel a warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Good morning, my love,” you replied, your eyes filled with affection. Just then, Aerys slowly approached, his bright eyes and innocent smile lighting up his face as he babbled, “Mornin Mama!”

Your heart melted at the sight of your son’s adorable face. You bent down kiss on his white soft yet curly hair with a hugged, savoring the simple yet immensely meaningful happiness that your little family brought you.

After spending some warm moments together in the morning, the maid arrived to help you prepare for the journey to Winterfell with the entire Targaryen family. This was an important event, and you wanted everything to be perfect.

You had initially planned to ride dragons with Aemond to Winterfell, but Aemond was concerned about your safety. He believed that traveling by dragon could be dangerous, especially since you needed to care for Aerys during the trip. So, after some consideration, the two of you decided to travel by carriage together. Aemond wanted to ensure that you and your son would be well protected throughout the long journey.

The carriage was ready, and you felt a bit anxious thinking about this trip. But with Aemond by your side, you knew you could face anything ahead.

Aerys sat in the carriage with you and the wet nurses, the boy ever curious about everything around him. This journey carried significant meaning, not only for House Targaryen but also for House Stark. Your presence on this trip symbolized respect and a desire to strengthen political ties between the two houses.

You understood the importance of this journey, and although the road might be long and tiring, you knew that your presence would contribute to solidifying the alliance between the Targaryens and Starks. With determination and support from Aemond, you were ready to face the challenges ahead for the future of your house and your son.

After more than one moon, the long journey finally came to an end as the Targaryen family’s carriage entered the North. As soon as the carriage arrived, the people recognized the return of Lady Tyrell. Cheers erupted everywhere, and you could feel their warm affection towards you.

“Lady Tyrell has returned!” one person shouted, their voice full of excitement.

“My Lady, welcome back,” another called out, even though they couldn’t see you inside the carriage, the presence of two large direwolves walking beside it was an unmistakable sign that you were there. The two wolves, was once raised and cared for by you, now walked close to the carriage as if to affirm your role in this land.

Hearing these greetings, you couldn’t help but smile. Before arriving, you had been worried that the people might have forgotten you, or even be angry at your sudden disappearance without a word of explanation. But on the contrary, their affection for you remained intact, and this eased your heart greatly.

As soon as you stepped down from the carriage, you didn’t hesitate to run over and embrace Cregan Stark. The two of you were like two brother sister who had been apart for many years, now finally reunited. Cregan’s eyes were filled with joy and happiness, as if he was welcoming a beloved sister back home.

No matter how many years passed, the bond between you and Cregan remained unchanged, from your first love to a friend, a brother that you loved dearly. The warmth and affection that Cregan showed you were proof of the deep feelings that the North always had for you, regardless of time or distance.

At Winterfell, after being warmly welcomed, you felt truly happy to see that everyone still cherished and valued you as part of the family. "Welcome to Winterfell, once again," Cregan said with a warm smile, to which you could only smile back. "Thank you, everyone for welcoming me and my family with such warmth and making me love this place even more," you said before stepping out of Cregan's embrace.

You were delighted to learn that Cregan had married the woman he loved, Arra Norrey, and the two had a healthy, lively son named Rickon. After the warm greetings between the two families, you were led to the prepared private chambers for your little family.

That evening, Winterfell hosted a grand feast to celebrate your family's safe arrival. The festive and cozy atmosphere of the feast made you love this place even more, a place where the weather was cold but the hearts of the people were incredibly warm.

As night fell, you gently placed Aerys into the cradle beside your bed, with Aemond lying next to you. The two loyal direwolves, Summer and Winter, lay beside the cradle, guarding little Aerys without leaving. Since your arrival in Winterfell, they had not left your side or your son's.

After finishing everything, you crawled into bed beside Aemond. "I never expected the people here to love you so much," Aemond said in a tone of admiration, mixed with pride.

"Yes, they have always seen me as one of their own," you replied, happiness spreading in your heart. "And look, the two wolves I cared for all those years ago, even after so much time, they remain loyal and protect our son."

Aemond, who once thought the people of the North were cold and distant, now realized the warmth and respect they had for you and his family. You, with your strength, spirit, and special connection with them, had captured the hearts of the Northerners.

"I am so proud of you," Aemond said, holding you tightly. You turned to look at him, smiling happily.

"I love you, Aemond," you whispered. You could hear Aemond's soft chuckle.

"I love you too, my love," he replied, then gently kissed your hair. The two of you held each other and drifted into a peaceful, contented sleep, wrapped in the warmth of love and family.

[fhrlclln]

qimir x jedi! reader (a sort of part 2 to this blurb)

guilt and unanswered questions have haunted the reader for years now. but at its breaking point of their composure, realizing that qimir is a sith and his reason for leaving the order- were the final straw for the breakdown.

or in other words, angst!

｡･:*˚:✧｡

the confrontation in the apothecary was cut short.

you had to get back to the others to prevent suspicion. qimir’s touch on your skin still lingers and you could feel the subtle clench of your heart that you had to leave him. before you could leave, he had made a promise for your unanswered questions that were swimming in your head that time.

his grip on your wrist is tight before you could part away from him. there’s a shine in emotionless eyes as you looked at him, waiting for one answer.

“meet me in khofar.” he merely said as he lets go of you. you put your hood up again as you break away from his gaze. he watches you leave the apothecary, jaw clenched and tensed. as if you were a long lost painful memory he had forgotten yet now it confronts him.

and now you stand here in khofar, away from the others. in the middle of the forest, trees surround you and the moon is your only light in the night. you close your eyes, feeling through the force as you sensed him he was nearby. you let your body move to where it takes you- to him. each scrunch of the leaves in your steps is an anticipation, each dodge of your body and turn is a promise of your awaited answers. your steps are faster now but your eyes are still shut tight, the darkness is your only vision but the force is your sight.

and you finally halt.

you blink open only to be confronted with a masked stranger in black robes, standing a few steps before you.

you remain calm but confused… confused entirely. he doesn’t say anything and you wondered if the saber in his hand would be your demise. the force is strong with him, you can feel it, it’s why you were pulled into it. the man in front of you is the epitome of the darkness of the force.

“qimir.” you call out. you hoped, hoped that this wasn’t him. but you knew better.

he removed his helmet at last, his black hair is in disarray as he gazes upon you. he waits for a moment, wanting to see if you’d place your hand on your lightsaber but reading your body language, he sees you leave yourself vulnerable in front of him despite your face is as calm as the night.

“it’s confusing you, isn’t it? me.” he begins. “i didn’t expect to meet you again.” he smiles, yet it was a smile that left a sad note to it. “i was hoping you and i would meet again in a less… tense situation.”

“you’re mae’s master.” the words leaving your lips don’t register in your head, realizing he’s a sith.

“i am.” he nods. an emotion crosses your face and qimir tilts his head at that, curious to see what you’ll say or do.

“why did you leave me?”

the question leaves him hanging for a moment. he doesn’t expect that. his chest rose as he exhales slowly, the pain and anger of memories coming back to him is creeping up on him again.

“you wouldn’t understand. i had to.” his voice is full of emotion while you take his explanation in. the long awaited answer that was haunting your mind for years. why? why did he leave you? with no answer, no letter, and a broken promise that you’ll always be together- it was starting to break you, the guilt for not finding him the day he had left. but he broke your heart that day.

“she threw me away. i thought my master cared. i thought she understood me but she casted me aside, saying that i failed as her pupil, as her padawan. and i had to leave for that. nobody understood me. the jedi failed me. and my master had…” he doesn’t want to tell you what had happened to earn the scar on his back. the trauma haunts him, his jaw is tense and his fists clenched in anger.

“but i did…” your voice cracks, your calm demeanor had faded. your eyes shine and qimir’s eyes widen slightly. “i did. i understood you, i cared for you! but you didn’t let me show that to you.” the pain overwhelms you, this was bad, you were not letting yourself be in control of your emotions. but how could you? when the man you loved stands in front of you, swayed with the darkness. the qimir you knew back then had changed entirely.

“you did?” there’s a vulnerable tone in his voice. he had hoped that you would’ve. you were on his mind for years when he left. wondering if you still think of him. you immediately nod, your lips tremble slightly. he softens at that.

“i knew your master and the council were holding you back. but despite their opinions on you, i never once cared for what they say about you. you were gifted and strong in the force. and i’m sorry i couldn’t let you see it more when you felt like they failed you.” tears dampen your cheeks. “but i was confused, qimir. you didn’t tell me anything. you didn’t tell me a single thing, if i had known, i would’ve stayed with you. i would have followed you!”

his chest feels heavy at your words. you, a jedi master now, breaking all jedi codes in front of him. he feels your pain- the pain he caused. you let your emotions wash over you rather than you control it. qimir doesn’t know what to say but he steps forward. you remain in place as he looks into your eyes, he sees it, the genuine shine. the pain he feels is in sync with yours as he takes your hand to his.

your fingers intertwine with his rough ones and the pain subsides from both hearts. there isn’t any word said further between the two of you but only a comforting silence and the warmth of each other. like the years of pain had come to a close closure…that they realized they needed the two of them finally.

and only that did their pain had started to heal.

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[iloveslasher]

hey! can you please (if you want) write slashers reactions to S/O or reader taking their own life

only if you are comfortable with that! I just want a reason to cry :)

Hi dear, of course I will. I apologize that this is so late. Hope you still wanted this 😘

⚠️ : SH/Suicide - 💔 : Angst - 🖤 : Bad ending (except for bubba)

Contains: michael myers, jason voorhees, Thomas Hewitt and Bubba sawyers.

Happy reading!

Michael Myers:

Michael was out killing for 3 days when you took your own life.

When he came back he thought you were joking and hiding from him.

But as soon as he found you he wished he didn't.

Michael would feel immense betrayal and then immediately guilt right after.

Betrayal because you left him and thus hurt him like all the others in his life.

Guilt because he didn't know there was something/someone bothering you and he vowed to always be there for you because of what he went through.

He would give you a proper burial and pluck the nicest flowers he could find in the forest.

He'll admit he teared up when laying you in the ground and then having to cover you up with the dirt he digged up.

After your death all the walls you took down would quickly be put up and any softness you brought out in him is hardened again.

Michael is lost without you, you were the only person he could be like this with and you're now gone.

Jason Voorhees

Why? That's all jason would think when he finds you hanging with tears still on your cheeks.

Why would you leave him? What happened that made you do this? Why wouldn't you tell Jason about your problems. He was only trying to be a good boy for you and that family you always dreamed about.

Jason would cry his sweet little heart out holding your now cold body that used to be warm.

He would bury you with the flower bouquet that he wanted to give you the day he found your body. He just didn't know that he might have had to gift it to you when you were no longer here.

After your death he would no longer care about anything, he would stop protecting the camp, listening to his mother.

In the end he gets caught and shot to death by the police, as he lays there he thinks about how he'll finally be with you.

His sweet S/O

Thomas hewitt

Thomas saw your body fall down in the middle of the pig pen.

He ran as fast as he could thinking that the pig headbutted you making you fall down.

But you just shot yourself. He just didn't register the gunshot sound as you shooting yourself, rather that it was the sound of you falling down.

As he stood over your body in the pigpen, he couldn't believe it. He just stared wide-eyed, mother Mae came out of the house concerned about the loud pop she had heard.

As she arrived she could not help but gasp, hand flying to her mouth and eyes tearing up. As you were like a daughter she always wanted, now you were dead.

They buried you, and they could not get themselves to think about cutting you up and eating you. You are were family and always will be.

After your burial, everyone grieved you, yes, even evil hoytt. They were more brutal than ever after your death. Your presence helped heal some of these families' issues. They were not going to let your hard work go to waste.

Bubba Sawyers

Now why would you do this to sweet baby bubs?

This sweet boy found you in your guys' bed, bleeding to death. He runs to your side shaking you.

Your eyes are still open, and you're on the brink of death. He calls for his brothers, who come running as soon as they hear his baby brother crying out.

They try to help you and stitch you up, as Bubba hold you and tell you it's going to be okay. You smile softly at Bubba as you mumble that it's not his fault. "I love you bubs" and with that your eyes close.

The next day, you wake up and look around you to find that the bed is clean and Bubba is asleep next to you, holding you to him.

"Bubs?" He jolts awake as he hears your voice. He grunts and tries not to cry as he sees you are awake. He smiles a broken smile at you.

You can't help but feel guilty as you think about how you almost left this poor boy on his own.

He helps you out of bed and into the dining room where his brothers are also eating. They can't help hut glare at you as they ask you how you feel.

You apologize. "I am so terribly sorry, I never meant to hurt you or Bubba. I just felt so lost and couldn't take it anymore"

The glares softened, and they all hugged you, making you promise to come to one of them next time you have a problem.

And you did come to them the next time it got tough.

I hope you enjoyed this!

I am sorry but I could not give Bubba a bad ending 🫣

[imagines--galore]

||I Will Always Choose You||

Summary: As a soldier you had expected to find yourself in dangerous situations. But trapped in the claws of a Homunculous who went by Lust and watching the man you love try to save you was on a whole other level.

Pairing: Roy Mustang x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Action. Angst. A bit of mention of injury so be prepared!

A/N: Sorry its late but I hope you like this! @smallartist08

Roy Mustang was not in love.

He had never been in love, and there was no possibility of him falling in love in the future.

Not when he had an entire country to think of. Not when he had to help make Amestris a country he would be proud to call home. Not when he had so many people to look after. His entire team. His best friend’s wife and daughter. The Elric brothers. Madam Christmas and the girls.

Most all of them were in constant danger, one way or the other. There was no time for him to be in love when he had to make sure he knew of their every step. Make sure they stayed safe.

Or as safe as the Elric brothers could be.

Those two boys got in so much trouble sometimes, he was sure they had targets painted on their backs.

But most of all?

Roy Mustang did not deserve love. Not after the bloodshed he had carried out as the Flame Alchemist. Not after all the innocent Ishvalans he had killed when he had been ordered to. 

He was ashamed of his actions, and deeply regretful that he had not stood up to those in authority back then. He may spend his whole life trying to atone for all his sins. Which is why something as pure as love could never be in his life. 

Not with how tainted his soul was. 

How broken.

But............the only problem about not falling in love?

Was that he was already in love.

With you.

Just like Riza and Maes, you had been beside Roy every step of the way.

You had been with him when he was stationed to the front lines. As a weapon’s specialist, and a liaison between the superiors and the alchemists, you had been in-charge of all the weapons that came your way. 

Mechanical and human.

And all the State Alchemists were seen as nothing more then weapons at that time.

You were to make sure that each piece of weapon stayed in shape, and you were aware of every alchemist and where they were stationed, what they were capable of, and how far they could go with the abilities.

As one of the best sharpshooters, Riza would often be found in your company. Not only because you were the only one she trusted with making sure her weapon was in working order, but also because there were so few women on the front lines.

It was nice having another woman around, someone the both of you could trust to watch each other’s back.

You had been walking around when you had first heard Roy. He was speaking to Maes, telling him of the guilt he felt for using his abilities to kill so many. All of this was spoken in confidant, and you were not meant to have heard it.

But you did.

And your heart went out to the poor man.

You had seen so many soldiers die. So many lives wasted.

And for what?

For a war that had started because the Ishavalan’s had revolted against the people who ruled them. Later you would come to know the true reason for the war, but even then, it didn’t sit right with you.

Riza had been with you, and when Roy and Maes had seen you standing there, she had reassured them, saying you would not breath a single word of it to anyone.

Although the next time Roy was given an assignment, it had no killing involved and only a few patrols. He had been confused at first, and after a little detective work on Maes’s part, he was told that you were responsible for it. While writing your weekly reports you had managed to surreptitiously add a few points that would make it seem that the areas Roy would be stationed at were in dire need of a cleansing. 

Of course, that was a lie.

Leaving Roy rather impressed with your clever wording, and quick thinking. He voiced it to you out loud, but what he didn’t say, at least not in so many words, was that he was sure that you had done so out of the kindness of your heart.

He had known of you long before you knew him. At least you were are of his existence, and that he was the Flame Alchemist. That was as far as your knowledge of him went until that fateful and unintentional run-in while he had been speaking to Maes. Roy Mustang knew exactly who you were and what you were there to do. 

He had seen you, a few days after your arrival. You were crouching down next to a dying Ishvalan, offering him some water. And you had stayed there, held his hand and spoke to him.

Most soldiers would’ve simply walked by the dying man. But not you. No, you stayed with him until he died. And when he did, you cried.

You sat there crying in the shadows for a good long while, until your tears had dried and you had composed yourself enough to walk back to your post. And Roy had watched you, a piece of his broken heart mending at the reassurance of your simple act of staying with a dying man.

That there was still kindness in this cruel world.

                                           ————————–

Your life had never been easy.

For one you were related to the esteemed Armstrong family. A cousin of the family. You had quite the legacy to live up to.

Your father had been a decorated army officer until his death in the Ishvalan War. You had been expected to walk in his footsteps. And as his only child, there was a lot of pressure on you. And given the fact that you were a girl, you had to work twice as hard. It didn’t help that your father made you aware of your gender every moment of everyday. And not in the most positive of ways.

You could never be an Alchemist like your cousin Alex, you had no desire to become a weapon like him. And you could never be as ruthless and heartless as your cousin Olivier. Even she had once stated that if you were to ever loose the kindness that radiated from your very being, you would loose part of yourself.

So you had decided to forge a path that worked for you. And though you had to hide your real nature while in the army working at the front lines, you had been lucky enough to find people you could be yourself around.

People you trusted had your back no matter what would happen.

After the war, you were personally asked by Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang to work with him. He had said he needed a person who could talk their way out of a situation without having a single shot fired. Translation: He needed someone who could speak to those superior them him without pissing them off. And once you were made aware that Riza would be a part of that Unit as well, you had agreed.

And while that was your initial reason for joining Mustang’s Unit, it began to change over the years as you got to know the rest of your Team.

Riza Hawkeye, your first true friend in the military. You had both shared your worries with one another, your hopes for the future. Talks that had brought the both of you all that much closer to one another. Close enough that you considered one another sisters.

Kain Fuery, the little brother you had always wanted, and since your own mother had died giving birth to a sibling who had never had the chance to draw breath, you saw Kain as your second chance. And given how you were almost always working on the radio, taking orders, sending messages and keeping updates on the latest going-ons in the military, he was always by your side to help however he could.

Vato Falman was your go to person when you needed to get a fact checked about history. He knew everything, and sometimes you would share your information with him to see if he knew anything about it. Not to mention the fact that the both of you would carry out long historical debates and discussions that you both thoroughly enjoyed, and ones that put the rest of your Team to sleep.

Jean Havoc had tried to flirt with you when he had first met you. But had backed off when you had given him a glare Olivier had helped you to perfect years ago. He was still a little afraid of you, but you both got along now. Enough that he would tell you all about his dating life, which you would critique him for quite viciously, much to the amusement of the rest of the Team.

Heymans Breda and you were partners in stealth. The both of you knew everything about everyone’s business. At least everyone who were important. But sometimes the insignificant tidbits the both of you shared did help once in awhile.

And finally there was Roy Mustang.

Your superior. The one who had brought you to be a part of his Team. He must’ve seen something in you that had him bring you in. Then again, he had seen something in all of them. And while you knew you were a valuable asset considering your way to talk yourself out of trouble as efficiently as any conman, you couldn’t help but hope for something different.

Which was utterly ridiculous because nothing could ever happen between the both of you.

You were his subordinate. A soldier under his command. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still it didn’t stop you from growing closer to him. To share your most deepest thoughts with one another. And while Riza was also his confidant, one you were aware of, there was something different when it came to the talks you had with Roy. They were more personal, and felt more like a conversation between a man and a woman, rather then the exchange of information between two soldiers.

And though you tried to stop it, tried your best not to, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. Fall in love with the man with who regretted every life he had taken, who wanted to see Amestris become a better country. He had a vision, one that was just as grand as him, and you hoped you would be a part of it.

That you would be by his side when it became a reality.

And while it was hard to keep your feelings a secret, considering how they were always just simmering beneath the surface whenever you interacted with him, especially outside of work, they remained unspoken.

And since they remained unspoken, your feelings only grew stronger with each passing day.

                                             ————————–

Unbeknownst to you, Roy was in the same predicament as you.

He hoped that you would be by his side when he achieved his dream. Perhaps then his heart would allow him to do what he wanted for so long. 

To declare his love for you in that signature rambunctious style of his.

He had kept his feelings a secret from you for so long. Maes was aware of it. As was Riza. He only knew the latter because she had, in thinly veiled words, threatened to dismember him should he ever hurt you.

But he would never hurt you. He would rather die then hurt you intentionally. You, the only source of light and kindness that provided some sort of comfort to his broken soul. So many times he had come close to just confessing, to let everything come out in the open and damn the consequences, but he never did.

He had very nearly confessed when he had broken down in your arms after Maes’s passing. The man who had been his biggest supporter when it came to his feelings for you, but he had stopped. He had no desire to associate such an important moment with the worst time in his life.

Though if he had known that a few short weeks later, you would be on the verge of dying yourself, he would’ve confessed to you right then and there.

                                             ————————–

The pain at his side was still near overwhelming. The back of his palm itched and stung where he had carved the symbol he needed for flame alchemy.

But all that pain was nothing.

Nothing compared to the horrifying sight of you in the clutches of the Homunculi Lust.

You looked like you had taken quite the beating, with multiple bruises and cuts littering your body, a majority of them visible through your torn clothes. And you had.

You had lost all control when you had heard Lust speak so proudly and boastfully.

About the Flame Alchemist.

About killing the Flame Alchemist.

But you were no match for an all-powerful creature. Despite your years of training and weapons mastery, she had you pinned against the floor, one of her deadly claws aimed straight at your heart.

Though she changed positions when Roy stumbled in, followed by Riza.

Now she held you in front of herself like a shield, her sharp claw ascending from above your heart to press the tip of it against your delicate throat.

You let out a sob of relief at the sight of him.

“Roy!”

You hardly ever called him by his first name. And just with that word, he knew how worried and scared you had been that he was gone.

“Put her down.” He growled, his thumb itching to throw a fire blast in the direction of the Homunculi. Lust let out a soft laugh.

“Do you really believe you are in position to make demands of me Colonel Mustang?” She purred, the claw wrapped around your waist tightening, causing you to whimper as one of your fractured ribs throbbed with pain. “I shall enjoy tearing your little plaything apart.” Roy gritted his teeth as you let out a painful cry, unable to help yourself as her hold tightened. Beside him, Riza was no better. Her grip on her gun only increased, finger twitching to pull the trigger.

“D-d-o-on’t lis-te-n to h-er.” You managed to call out hoarsely, loud enough for your words to echo in the blindingly white room. Another laugh for Lust, one that had Roy growling under his breath, the fire in his eyes burning just as bright as any flame he normally created.

“Oh my, even on the brink of death you wish to bring your Colonel comfort.” She turned you around so she could look at you in the eye. “Tell me, are you willing to give up your life to save his?” She cooed, smiling sadistically. Your head turned slightly, so you could look at him over your shoulder. The true intensity of your love for Roy Mustang finally sunk in, burning so bright that it prompted you to look at Lust straight in the eye and say one word.

“Yes.”

Behind Lust you caught sight of Alphonse rising to his feet where Lust had thrown him aside during their fight. His armor was hidden behind a wall of stone he had built, so Roy and Riza hadn’t seen him yet. His red glowing eyes found yours, and you knew what was coming next.

A smile pulled at your lips. “But today is not that day.”

Lust barely had time to react to your words when Alphonse suddenly burst into action, sending a wall of stone in her direction. She had to drop you to save herself from being knocked off her feet.

“Now Roy!” The scream had barely left your lips when you felt the searing flames of his alchemy rush past you and engulf the Homunculi.

Lust’s screams of utter pain echoed all around you. Alphonse quickly surrounded you with a stone wall before rushing to your side and shielding you with his body. 

Roy’s flames were intense. He was not holding back. Not when the image of you looking so broken, defeated and hurt was fresh in his mind. Not when the sight of you willing to die for him had his insides twisting in a painful way.

Despite the physical pain that had his body throbbing, it seemed nothing compared to the pain he was certain would ravage his very sense of being should he loose you.

And so he unleashed all that fear, anger and anguish in his flames, unblinking and unrelenting as the creature Lust screamed and screamed. Even Riza did not stop him, did not tell him to hold off. Lust was too dangerous to be left alive.

In Alphonse’s protective grasp, you felt your entire body trembling from the pain, but that didn’t stop you from lifting your head once Lust finally fell silent. Somehow, you broke free of his grip around you and managed to peer around the protective wall.

Only to be met with the sight of Roy falling to his knees, looking just as bad as you did. “Roy!” You whimpered, worry lacing your tone, as you tried to stand. But the twisted ankle did not allow you to get any further then a crouch.

“Alphonse, keep an eye on both of them! I’m getting help!” Called Riza as she all but sprinted away knowing neither you, Roy nor Havoc were in any position to be moved without medical assistance.

Roy was lying on his back now his eyes were on you, his arm outstretched,  hand reaching out towards you. “Y/n.”

You quickly began to try and crawl towards him, though seeing you struggle, Aphonse quickly took over, lifting you up and bringing you to lie down next to your superior.

As soon as you were there, your hands found one another’s. Your fingers laced together and you held on tight as tears filled your eyes, while his shone with relief. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice hoarse as he gripped your hand tighter, if that were even possible. You shook your head. “Forget about me. Lust said she killed you. I thought you were dead.” The tears began anew as you looked at his smiling face, very much alive and just as handsome as ever, despite his injured state. He reached out with his other hand to wipe away one of the falling tears. “Its gonna take more then a Homunculus to take me out.” He said in that confident voice of his, prompting a tearful laugh from your lips. Now that the danger has passed, the adrenaline was beginning to leave your body and you could feel your head begin to grow heavy and fuzzy, your eyes burning as you forced yourself to keep them open.

But it was no use. Already your eyelids were drooping, and everything around you was beginning to loose coherency.

Seeing you struggle with staying conscious, Roy turned his gaze to Alphonse who was hovering over them, Roy smiled. “Thanks Alphonse. Thank you for looking after the woman I love.”

Those were the last words you heard before you slowly slipped into the sweet embrace of darkness.

                                            ————————–

The next time you became aware of your surroundings you were lying on something soft.

Mumbling incoherently, you lifted a hand to your forehead, only to be met with resistance given that your arm was in a sling. Your entire body ached and felt so heavy that you were sure it had been run over by a tank.

But the real reason behind your current predicament slowly returned as your brain began to wake up. 

Lust. 

Lust hurting Alphonse.

Lust fighting you.

Taunting you.

Telling you Roy was dead.

Roy?

Roy!

“Roy!” His name fell from your lips as you suddenly sat up straight, followed by a cry of pain as your still healing ribs protested at the sudden movement. You wrapped an arm around your abdomen, grunting in pain.

“Yes?”

Startled you looked up, your head whipping to the side, only to be greeted with the sight of a very much alive Roy Mustang lying in a bed adjacent to yours. You could make out another bed next to his, with Havoc snoring away. It was the middle of the night, the only source of light in the room from the small lamp Roy had turned on as he read a book.

And seeing him sitting there, bandaged and looking so much better from when you had last seen it, doing something as mundane as reading a book, you couldn’t help but let out a sound of utter relief as you buried your face in your hands. You didn’t cry, but you were rather close.

“Oh you bastard.” Your words were muffled, but he heard you, considering he let out a chuckle. “Not exactly the words a man who confessed to you wants to hear, but I’ll take it to mean you’re feeling better now.”

You sighed, before removing your hands and turning to look at him. “It took you nearly dying to finally confess to me. You really know how to make a girl feel special you know.” You said, your smile soft yet teasing as you turned your head to look at him. Roy shrugged. “What can I say? I have a dramatic flare. Its a big part of my personality.” He admitted, smirking at you as he carefully slid from his bed, wincing from the pain at his side.

Your eyes dropped to his abdomen as he sat on the bed beside you. “How’re you feeling?” You asked, worry lacing your tone as your gaze moved to his hand where the symbol for flame alchemy was now scabbed over. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached out and gently took his hand in between your own. “Well my side still hurts, and I’m sharing a room with two other people despite my rank and not being looked after by a hot nurse, but other then that I have no complaints.” His words prompted a gentle laugh out of you as you finally lifted your gaze from his hand to meet his.

To say you were taken aback by the intensity of his eyes would be an understatement. You held his gaze, even as he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear. He didn’t lower his hand. Instead it stayed there, moving only to gently cup your cheek, brushing his thumb against the half-healed cut where Lust had caught you with one of her claws.

“I know you’ll probably tell me off later, but when Lust told me that she had killed you.” Your voice trembled slightly at the memory. “Something inside me broke and I started to attack her, with no regard for my own life.” The admittance had you a cold feeling creeping down your back but you continued, your eyes dropping to his chest. “In that moment I realized that I didn’t want to live. Not in a world where you weren’t alive.”

You sighed. “What I’m trying to say Roy, is that you mean so much to me. And I know this goes against every military rule there is about fraternizing with your superior but I-I love you too.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he closed whatever distance there was and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. The gesture was so unlike him, that it had you staring at him in surprise once he pulled back.

He smirked. “I know, I’m that good.” He said, and though his smile was smug, his eyes were sincere and adoring as he looked at you. Shaking your head you leaned forward to press your foreheads together, noses just barely touching, a wide smile on your lips. “I’ll need a repeat of that to judge for myself.” You stated, prompting him to let out a laugh, before he moved to comply to your request.

However the moment was broken by the grumbling of a certain fellow team member.

“Would you two stop flirting? People are trying to sleep here!”

You couldn’t help it as you muffled your laugh by pressing your lips against his once more.

[kidasthings]

Echoes of Eden by Kida

Noa x Mae - #theystillgotthoseskeletons

Chapter 1: Echoes of Eden by Kida – @kidasthings on Tumblr

Next Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/kidasthings/751031002718240768/echoes-of-eden-by-kida?source=share

Chapter 2

Mae found Noa outside the makeshift sky tower, the hawks still cartwheeling across the heavens like avenging angels.

“Stop!” Mae demanded, flanked by an assortment of curious apes who had crowded at the entrance to the building behind her while they held their conversation. Her face was slack with dismay. “What do you plan to do to them?”

Noa didn’t spare her a glance back. His attention was fully focused on the five captives before him, and his expression was stormy.

To their credit, the human hostages held his gaze, if a bit wavering. Finally, a dark-haired man schooled his face into some semblance of bravado and demanded, “Let us go and you’ll never see us again.”

“I know what … you are capable … of,” Noa replied in his steady, halting manner. The crease between his brow ridges deepened, and now he stole a dark look at the anxious human woman at his back in rebuke.

“Listen to him, to us,” Mae interjected, sprinting over, and swinging out in front of Noa, hands spread wide as if she could protect her own people from the worst of his. “This was a misunderstanding. He never meant to find this place.”

Lips half-parted, the hero of the Eagle Clan glowered at the young woman with the blue eyes and the side-plait in her hair. He had hoped, many times, to see her again. It had been against his best judgement of course, but there lived some small, treacherous part of his psyche that yearned for the sight of a certain duplicitous human female.

But to what end?

With a heavy heart, Noa requested that the five captives be blindfolded. They were tightly bound when they began to struggle in earnest, their eyes covered with strips of animal hide that blocked out the dimming world around them. The humans shuffled uneasily once the apes were done; their fear was palpable in the cool evening air.

An elder stepped forward, one of the few council that survived the original invasion by Sylva's raiders.

"If you will not be forthcoming ... with your purpose ... then banishment is … necessary.” The elder, an older chimpanzee wearing many colored stones, nodded to Noa. "Cast them out."

Mae flicked panicked looks between the scowling Noa and the writhing humans as they were at last secured. In desperation, she bounded forward and clung to Noa’s arm. It was like a live wire, feeling her fingers sink into his short fur. “You can’t..”

Noa felt it instantly, his entire body stiffening in response for half a heartbeat.

Short-lived, the young ape just shook her off as if she were an annoying gnat and stepped away. He did not even deign to look her in the eye. “Let’s go.”

Noa led the procession, his strides purposeful yet laden with an unspoken sorrow. The path they took was intentionally convoluted, winding through the dense undergrowth and over streams that glittered faintly under the first stars. The sounds of the forest, usually comforting, now carried a tense silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the soft thuds of footsteps.

Mae followed close behind, her heart torn. The pendant around her neck - a symbol of peace and a painful reminder of the bond she shared with Noa - felt heavier with each step. She watched Noa’s broad back, the set of his shoulders speaking of a burden she could only guess at.

She could not ascertain how long they walked. An hour? Four?

Soona and Anaya, Noa’s close friends and trusted members of the clan, traveled alongside the group. Their expressions were unreadable, their usual warmth hidden behind a mask of duty. The small group of apes from the village flanked the humans, their presence a silent warning against any thought of escape.

After what felt like forever, Noa finally halted. The group had ventured deep into the forest, far from any familiar trail. He signaled to the others, who carefully removed the blindfolds from the human captives. Blinking against the sudden influx of dim light, the humans looked around, disoriented and unable to recognize any part of the forest while the small contingent of Eagle Clan villagers began to remove the bonds from the captives. Sighing and rubbing her raw wrists in relief, the woman with the bob stepped back behind the four men with which she traveled. Each was attired in worn camouflage uniforms streaked with dirt, no doubt earned on their long, treacherous journey.

Turning to Mae, Noa’s voice was soft, conflicted. "Take them with you," he instructed, his eyes not meeting hers. "Without … their weapons. This is where we part … ways again."

Mae opened her mouth to reply, her emotions swirling, when sudden movement caught her eye. One of the human men, his expression desperate, revealed a hidden knife he had somehow kept out of sight. In a swift motion, he grabbed the closest ape within reaching distance. Unfortunately, this turned out to be the naïve Anaya. The man, the dark-haired one who had spoken up earlier, began pressing the blade against the ape’s throat.

The forest erupted into chaos. The apes growled, their bodies tensed for a fight, but Noa raised a hand, signaling them to hold. “I thought they were searched!”

Mae’s hand instinctively moved to the small pistol hidden in her belt - a secret she had kept even from Noa. "Let him go," she said firmly to Anaya’s aggressor, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Mae became hyper-aware her allegiance was being assessed right there in front of both species.

The human’s eyes were wild, his fear palpable. "We need a guarantee we’ll get out of here safely," he demanded, his voice shaking.

“Was he … not checked for weapons?” someone could hear Soona say incredulously.

Noa’s gaze finally met Mae’s, filled with a mix of betrayal and pleading. The complexity of their relationship, marked by trust and tension, hung heavily between them.

Mae took a slow, deep breath, her decision clear. "No one needs to get hurt," she addressed the other human, her tone even. She spoke to him like one would a spooked horse. "Let him go, and I’ll ensure your safety. You know I know where you’re heading."

The tall man hesitated, his grip on the knife faltering as he searched Mae's face for sincerity. After a tense moment, he simply shook his head and gritted his teeth. “His life,” the man stated chillingly, “for our guns and supplies.”

Anaya began to struggle anew when the knife was temporarily lifted. Grunting, the man returned the blade to his victim’s furry throat and the young ape stilled in fear. Had the man grabbed any other villager, he would have been quickly overpowered and brought to his knees with a fully cracked cranium. It was well known that the strength of apes was five times greater, after all. Lucky for him, Anaya was a gentle, fearful soul that did not go looking for trouble; he stood compliantly like a deer in headlights waiting for the crash.

Noa lifts his hands, palms up and out, and breathed in deeply. His nose flared, as if scenting the air. Around them, the palpable tension of the other apes increased as they hissed and growled.

The man with the knife began backing up, and the four others with him began to back up as well. The others in his group stole nervous glances amongst each other, not entirely on board with the fifth man’s spur-of-the-moment choices – sadly, they were far too late to alter them.

“Last chance. Release him,” Noa’s voice dripped darkly.

“No can do, buddy. Not until we have our stuff.” The man’s eyes flicked to Mae. “Look, I don’t know what you are doing with these animals, but maybe you can convince them it’s better to just give us our packs?”

Mae was so frustrated she could curse.

Both she and Noa’s eyes met for only a second, and one sentiment was wordlessly exchanged in that moment.

Shit.

“We don’t need the guns, really,” the only other human woman piped up, stepping carefully forward. All heads swung her way. “We just need our bags. You have something of ours we really need back.”

From just above knifepoint, Anaya’s wild eyes pleaded with Noa and Mae to do something, anything.

Noa began to chant.

Mae stiffened in surprise, her guarded expression shifting curiously.

Above, far above, the circling eagles gathered.

The mantra came to a crescendo, and the others – Soona, the other apes, even Anaya, began to join in.

A dark, darting shape dropped like a missile from the sky and daggered its way towards the face of the man holding the blade. He screamed, dropped the weapon, and a quicksilver wink of light fell to the grass.

Another bird plummeted from the sky, followed by yet another. They each found a suitable target in each human, ominously sparing Mae.

“Noa!” Mae cried in alarm, unable to watch birds of prey ravage the humans in front of her. She scrambled forward, knees hitting the ground, and reached back for the pistol from the seaside bunker on her belt. It was still conveniently concealed beneath a blue jacket, thankfully remaining out of sight from Noa’s people. The sting of tears pricked her eyes as she became wracked with indecision.

Humans, immune like her, being disfigured by birds. How was this even possible?

Despite her inner turmoil, self-preservation stayed her hand.

Noa nodded at Mae, a silent acknowledgment mingled with sadness. Perhaps it was to mollify her, perhaps not, but a marked change began. His tribal songs ceased, fading away with the night wind.

"Why is it so hard?" he murmured, more to himself than to her.

The five humans fell to the ground, clutching their faces. Red rivulets streamed down the back of their hands through the spaces in their fingers.

Anaya broke away once released, huffing heavily as he shot over to the group of apes beyond Mae.

Thank you, he signed to Noa, who grabbed him by the forearms and checked him for injuries just as Soona met them halfway. A suspicious stare was leveled Mae’s way by the female ape, almost accusatory, but she did not have much time before she began to fuss over Anaya. “Are you … okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Fine,” he puffed, exhaling deeply.

Noa released Anaya just as the Fort Wayne group scuttled backwards, their faces unrecognizable after being ravaged by talons. “Traitor!” one shot out at Mae, voice laced with pain.

Mae flinched, struck back by the accusation.

“Bitch,” another cursed. They stood up, scuttled backwards. The dark-haired man that had held Anaya hostage groped the grass before him, searching for something before abandoning the effort.

“Go, while you still can,” Noa intoned chillingly.

A bunch of hoots and howls from the assembled apes backed him up on that threat, and the injured humans wasted no time in scrambling and falling backwards, half running, half limping away.

Soon they were nothing but crackling twigs, grunts, and whispering foliage in the distance.

Mae watched them go, unable to react to what she just witnessed. Far above her, a hawk shrieked in rage.

Noa reached out, his hand brushing against hers for a brief, electric moment.

Breaking her stasis, she glanced down for a march of moments between them. Noa closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and flared his nostrils before turning away from her burning stare.

A pregnant pause followed.

With a final, lingering look, Mae took a step in the direction of the other humans but couldn’t find the strength to go. As the night grew deeper, the sounds of the forest resumed their nocturnal chorus.

Mae clenched her fists tightly at her side, molars grating against each other. An enraged expression stole across her features for a moment, the continual strain of restraint etched there.

The young woman then recalled something interesting mentioned by the sole woman in the group during the confrontation.

“We just need our bags. You have something of ours we really need back.”

No, she couldn’t mean –

Mae whirled on the spot. With her back straight but her spirit burdened, she shifted back towards Noa decisively.

It came all too late to Mae that she was suddenly following a group of apes back to their village like an odd wraith. The taste was bitter on the back of her tongue, but the thought of leaving behind something critically important would taste far worse.

I need to reach their supplies.

For the sake of all that was good and holy, she needed to do this – after all, the very future of humanity depended on it.

[saturnville]

dancing with a stranger, major john egan

pairing: major john “bucky” egan x black fem oc (amelia mae)

content: an alternative meeting between john and amelia mae

an: I was listening to dancing with a stranger by sam smith and normani on repeat and hadddd to write. enjoy

“We should go out tonight!” Eden Marie exclaimed with a cheerful smile on her face. The younger woman looked over her shoulder slowly, eyebrows raised and lip turned up in the corner. Between them, Eden was the social butterfly with enough energy to power a water machine. Amelia, on the other hand, lost her drive to socialize when a mishap with a boy left her heart broken into two.

“Since when do I go out?” asked Amelia. Amelia Mae wasn’t big on leaving her home. She preferred studying, reading, and making new outfits with her needles and threads. The outside world had nothing to offer her but pain. She wasn’t big on giving it another chance. She dropped her newest project into her lap and glanced at her doe-eye best friend, whose bottom lip was poked out.

“Since the military men are back in town. Didn’t you hear? The U.S. pilots are back from their mission oversees. And word on the curb is they love a good time, especially with the locals.”

Amelia snorted. “Partying with drunk military men doesn’t seem like the best way to spend my Friday night, Judy. And, since when do white military men take an interest in Black girls?”

Eden's eyes touched her brain as she grunted in aggravation. Amelia the Pessimist. “They don’t have to take an interest. They’re men at the end of the day. Smile, wave, and get yourself a free drink. Let loose for once, Mellie! The books ain’t going anywhere, your thumbs are busted from stabbing yourself with needles, and you’ve made three shirts since yesterday! Take a break.”

Amelia’s jaw ticked as the wheels began to turn in her head. Though she hated to admit it, Eden had a point. She was 20 years old. There was more to life than sulking her life away in the house out of fear of the unknown. With a deep sigh, Amelia finally nodded. “Fine, fine!”

Eden jumped up and squealed. “We’ve got an hour. They touch down in the States soon.” She grabbed Amelia’s hands and pulled her up from her seat.

“How do you know all of this?”

“I have my ways!”

Discomfort was the best way to describe what she felt. The local pub was crowded. Wall to wall with military men and groupies alike. The air was thick with sweat, hard liquor, and cigarettes. Amelia turned her lip up in disgust. She began to regret her decision.

Eyes were on them when they entered. Not because they were the only women there, but because they were the only Black women there. Amelia frowned and turned to Eden, “I thought the girls were coming?” Eden shook her head, informing her that the girls, twins Anna Marie and Betty, were caught up by their parents on the way out of the door. “Damn.”

“We still have each other! That’s all that matters. Snagged cash from my dad; let’s get a drink.” The two young women entered the bustling pub, weaving through the crowd until they reached the bar. Eden flagged down the bartender with a bright smile, while Amelia surveyed the room with unease.

As Eden ordered their drinks, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. She watched as the military men laughed and joked with their friends, their camaraderie evident in their easy smiles and relaxed postures. Despite Eden's enthusiasm, Amelia couldn't bring herself to join in the revelry.

Their drinks arrived, and Eden nudged Amelia with an encouraging smile. "Come on, Mellie. Let's mingle."

Amelia took a sip of her drink, the bitter taste of alcohol burning her throat. It wasn’t what she was used to, but she wouldn’t swear it off. She followed Judy as they made their way through the crowd, exchanging polite nods with the men they passed.

Suddenly, Eden stopped in her tracks, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "There he is!" she exclaimed, pointing towards a group of men gathered in a corner.

Amelia's heart sank as she realized who Eden was referring to. Among the group stood a tall, handsome man with a confident demeanor and a charming smile. He seemed to command attention effortlessly, drawing the gaze of everyone around him.

"He's one of the pilots," Eden whispered excitedly. "I heard he's single too."

Amelia's stomach churned with apprehension. She had no interest in getting involved with a military man, especially one who was undoubtedly used to having his pick of women. She took a step back, her desire to leave the pub growing stronger by the second.

But before she could voice her objections, Judy was already making her way towards the group, leaving Amelia with no choice but to follow. As they approached, the man turned towards them, his gaze locking with Amelia's.

"Hey there," Eden greeted him with a flirtatious smile. "Mind if we join you?" The gaze of other men followd suit. Judy’s eyes found those of Major Gale Cleven, a blue eyed, blonde-haired cutie with a curious gaze.

The man's smile widened as he gestured towards the empty seats beside him. "Not at all. The more, the merrier."

Reluctantly, Amelia took her seat, her discomfort growing with each passing moment. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking into a situation she wasn't prepared for, and as she glanced at the pilot beside her, she couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into.

As the evening progressed, Amelia found herself growing more comfortable in John's presence. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and she couldn't help but be intrigued by his charm.

At one point, she noticed John glancing at her lipstick as she responded to a question he asked her. Her lips were painted a rich shade of red. It complimented the deep hue of her skin beautiful. “Couldn’t help but notice your lipstick,” he said playfully. “Looks real pretty on you.”

Amelia chuckled bashfully at the compliment. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice softening. “It’s my favorite shade.”

John’s eyes glistened with interest as he leaned in closer. "I can see why," he said, his voice low and intimate. "It's bold. I like it. Bold is good.”

Amelia's heart skipped a beat at his words. As the conversation continued and the alcohol raced through her system, she suddenly felt drawn to him. A rush of excitement coursed through her veins as she realized that John was flirting with her, testing the waters to see how she would respond.

As they continued to talk, John's hand brushed against her thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She glanced down at his hand, strong yet gentle, then back up at him, her heart racing in her chest.

John met her gaze with a knowing smile, his eyes filled with mischief. "Sorry," he said, his voice husky. "Couldn't resist."

Amelia felt a shiver run down her spine at the touch of his hand, but instead of pulling away, she found herself leaning into him.

As the night wore on, the music in the pub grew louder, and John extended his hand to her, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

Amelia hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never been one to dance with strangers, but there was something about the pilot that made her want to take a chance. Maybe it was his charming demeanor, his sly smile, or the fact that her two drinks had her nerves at ease. Whichever way, she’d take Judy’s advice and live.

With a smile, she placed her hand in his, and they made their way to the dance floor. As they moved together to the rhythm of the music, their bodies pressed close, she felt a sense of connection unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was much different than those of men she previously dated, and while she wanted to get in her head about it, she chose not to.

“You know, I don’t dance with strangers often,” she said against his ear.

“I can tell. You look at me like I had five heads when I asked. But, now you see I don’t bite…not too hard at least.” Amelia gasped and poked his chest. John chuckled. “I’m kidding, darlin’.”

Over the music, their conversation grew. Once the song ended, they migrated to a small corner, their words mingling with laughter and shared secrets. Amelia was perched against the wall, her hands across her chest with John just centimeters away from her, hand on her waist and body caging her in.

Amelia’s giggles were interrupted by Eden's appearance. “Don’t mean to rain on your parade but it’s getting late and your parents are probably pulling their hair out.” John glanced at Amelia, who seemed to be upset that their time together was ending. With a nod, she told Eden she’d be with her shortly.

“Well,” Amelia sighed, dropping her hands. “It was lovely meeting you, John. Thanks for a good time.” She pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth, dangerously close to his lips.

John nodded. “It’s my pleasure. Spending a night with a pretty girl? Would never decline.” Amelia smiled. “Get home safe. And don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

The young woman dug into the small purse tucked underneath her arm. Out of it she pulled a wrinkled piece of paper and pen. John eyed her as she scribbled upon it. Her number. Amelia placed it in his palm and grinned. “I won’t if you won’t. Have a good night, Major.”

As John watched Amelia walk away, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His eyes dropped to the number in the palm of his hand.

The night had been unexpected, exhilarating even. He couldn't shake the feeling of connection he'd shared with her, the way her laughter had lit up the room and her eyes had sparkled with mischief. And as he pocketed the slip of paper with her number, he knew that this chance encounter was just the beginning of something special.

[runningmunson]

My Fierce Lady - Part 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: After the events of your attack, you felt helpless. You asked Aemond to teach you to fight so you can gain some control back into your life and finally feel brave. Part 2 of My Fierce Lady. Warnings: traumatized reader, mentions of previous attack, use of a sword, slight angst, fluff, soft Aemond

Masterlist

Agony. You were in agony. Everything had been so different since you were attacked and forced to take a man’s life. Anyone would change if it had happened to them, you believed. Aemond reminded you daily that you are strong and brave, that you and your children were still alive and breathing, and that the man was in the ground where he belonged because of you. Yet you still lived in fear every day, terrified that someone would strike again, but you wouldn’t be so lucky. 

That’s not to say that your husband and his family didn't try to make you feel safe. Your personal guards had been doubled. You were seldom left alone. You wouldn't step into your chambers, so they allowed you to move rooms. They exhausted resources to find whoever plotted to attack the Targaryen household. However, their attempts were futile. They never found who did it, and no matter what they did, you never truly felt safe.

Nightmares often plagued you. Too many nights you dreamed of Maelehra being murdered. You soon followed, only to be woken screaming and crying in the arms of Aemond as he tried to calm you. Your stress and anxiety were so severe that the maester put you on bed rest until the birth of your son. 

You thought things would be better after you brought your son, Rhaegar, into the world, basking in the joys of a newborn, a male heir for your husband. You were sorely mistaken. The maester chalked it up to melancholy as your body adjusted to a new state of motherhood. The royal family tried to keep it hidden. Everything was always kept in the family, never wanted to reveal their personal weaknesses to outsiders. But it was hard to ignore the whispers around the Red Keep with rumors of you going crazy and behaving worse than your sister-in-law, Helaena. 

You spent a lot of time with Helaena in her chambers, doing needlework as your children played on the floor together with the nannies. Rhaegar was usually fast asleep in his cradle. You had a feeling your mother-in-law, the Queen, had something to do with your time spent behind closed doors, not that you minded too much. You dearly loved Helaena and preferred her company over the other ladies in court. 

—

For once, you were having a good day. Your anxiety was at bay and manageable. The children were behaving excellently. You knew everyone was safe, and you finally settled in once you checked several times that there were two guards outside the door.

“That looks quite lovely, sister! You stitch our sigil far better than I could,” Helaena’s eyes were wide as she smiled brightly, complimenting your work. You were working on embroidering the Targaryen sigil on a new dress for Mae. 

“That is very kind of you to say. Your spider looks exquisite,” you smiled back at her. You genuinely meant it. While you did not share the same affinity for insects, you were always enthusiastic about her interests and ready to learn.

“Thank you, it’s a zebra spider. We have these in our garden,” she replied, then returned to her work. 

It was relatively quiet in the room, with an occasional sound coming from the children. All your focus was on the dress until your concentration was broken. The door opened without anyone knocking, and an unknown man stepped inside the room. 

You immediately stood up, a scream slipped from your lips. It startled your son awake, and he started crying. Your heart was racing, and you felt as if you could be sick. No, you thought, this cannot be happening again. As quick as you stood, you backed into a corner. You sat down with your hands over your ears and eyes tightly squeezed shut. 

Helaena shooed the man out of the room and told the nannies to remove the children. She slowly approached you, afraid to disturb you even more. You could see her mouth moving but heard no sound. The only thing you could hear was ringing. Tears welled up in your eyes. She turned to the guards and demanded they go get her brother at once.

Aemond made his way to his sister’s chambers in record time. “I am so sorry, Aemond. It was a new servant, he didn't knock first.”

“It’s fine, Helaena.” He looked at you, seeing you in a catatonic-like state. Your hands had not moved from their spot on your head, but your eyes were now wide open, blankly staring at the wall. It made him angry to see you as a shell of what you once were, no longer the carefree and lively woman he fell in love with. He turned to his sister, “May you give us some space please?”

Helaena left the room, and Aemond made his way to you. He crouched down, blocking your vision of the wall. Your eyes finally focused when you saw your husband in front of you and not another stranger coming to kill you. He reached up to take your hands off your face, noticing the scratch marks your nails left behind. With your hands in his, he gently kissed the back of both. 

“I’m here now, love. I got you. You are safe. Nothing is going to hurt you,” he spoke in a soft, calming voice- one reserved for only you and your children. The words he spoke were familiar as he often said these like a mantra in the dark of your room after your nightmares. You threw yourself in his arms, catching him off guard as he almost fell. He steadied himself and pulled you in close, once more repeating those words.

When your heart was steady and mind clear, he pulled you up to the ground and led you to the comforts of your own chamber. As soon as the door was shut, you turned to him. 

“I cannot do this any longer,” you said to him, voice cracking in desperation.

“Do what, my dear?” he questioned.

“Live in fear, no longer feeling safe in my own home. I wish to be free of this anguish! I want to feel as brave as you say I am. I want you to teach me how to fight,” you said to him. It was something you had thought about for some time but too afraid to address until now.

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. 

You knew it was unbecoming of a lady such as yourself to fight, but you were at a complete loss at what to do. It wasn’t as if Aemond thought that of you though. He always believed you could do anything you wanted. He never tried to control you or put you in your place unlike the other men of the court. Fighting could be dangerous, and he just wanted to protect you. 

“Please, Aemond. I need this. If you love me, you will grant me this wish,” you begged him, grabbing his hands and looking into his eye. You needed nothing more than to gain back some control of your life.

He nodded his head, “Then I will do just that, I promise you.”

—

Aemond led you to an empty room in the castle. You were adorned in pants and a tunic, your hair in a single braid falling down your back. He was finally going to teach you how to fight with a sword.

When you made your way into the room, he shut the door behind you for privacy. You noticed a few weapons were already laid on a table. There was a dummy filled with sand in the middle of the room as well. 

“Now, today we will learn the basics of defense, just a simple thrust and slice. Let’s go pick you a sword,” he walked over to the table. and you followed. You knew how heavy swords could be, having handled Aemond’s sword once to see what it was like and almost dropped it in the process. 

He handed you several, having you do a few mock swings to see which one felt best in your hands. You picked a lighter sword, the blade a typical silver color with a black and red hilt. The pommel housed a blue jewel. How fitting, you thought when you noticed it was similar in color to the sapphire where your husband’s eye once was.

When you were satisfied with your choice, you made your way to the middle of the room where Aemond was waiting. With the sword placed tightly in your hand, he led you into the proper stance. He used his leg to move your feet where he wanted them. His back found its way flush against yours. One arm wrapped around your waist to straighten you out. The other helped you hold your sword to the correct height, pointing to where you needed to strike. Whiffs of your scent flooded his nose as he held you close. You were disappointed when he pulled away.

“Alright, keep that stance. This should be an easy one. Draw your arm back and simply thrust it forward,” he said, his hands placed firmly behind your back. He was intensely watching your every move, making you a bit nervous. You drew back the sword and plunged it into the chest of the dummy. When you removed the sword, sand spilled on the ground. 

“Good, you have just defended yourself. Now put yourself back into the same position, and I’ll show you how to slice,” he explained the movements once more and let you do your thing. 

You stood the way he told you, doing a spin to gain momentum before slicing either side of the dummy. Once more, sand flowed from the cuts. Aemond started clapping. You turned to smile at him, finally starting to feel a small amount of control for the first time since your attack.

“My, oh my. Who knew the Gods blessed me with a wife who is a natural in the art of the sword,” he smiled, looking proud.

You laughed, “ Well, I have watched you practice in the courtyard often, my dear husband. Maybe I can be as good as you one day.”

“I’ll make a fighter out of you in no time, my fierce lady.”

[shield-and-saber]

feeling insanely curious about the possibilities of sol's darkness.

a young boy, shy, perhaps feeling very lonely in the grand temple on coruscant but who feels very deeply about the people he cares for. who struggles with attachment because his heart is so inclined to connection and to familial bonds, to love

the boy becomes a padawan, then a knight, but he doesn't take on his own apprentice, not yet. perhaps the council decides he isn't ready yet. they sense the ways that his desire for connection are selfish, based in a deep-seated desire for attachment to an unhealthy level. the kind of attachment that leads to fear of loss, to greed and jealousy, and they decide he must wait. he must see the galaxy first, he must grow before he can become a teacher and master

a knight on brendok makes the greatest mistake of his life. 51 lives lost because of his selfishness and impulsivity. so he returns to coruscant with a new padawan (a daughter) and he decides never again. he decides to be better, to be everything that he was not on brendok so that no one ever dies because of him again. but he doesn't learn to let go of his attachments, only to ignore them. to pretend they aren't there

the knight becomes a master, the master becomes apprentice-less. a failure. he failed mae, and he failed osha, and he is so, so lonely. better take all that darkness, the shadows clouding your heart, and stuff them somewhere else. don't stop to feel the pain, just move on. be better

so the council grants him a new student, bright and brilliant like the sun, a child who adores him, idolizes him. she is sweet and smart and respects him far too much, and then she dies because he was blind to the evil that guided mae's hand. she dies because he failed

there is only one answer to this, right? for surely it isn't darkness when painted with the brush of justice? the sith deserves to die because indara, kelnacca, and torbin are dead. jecki is dead, yord is dead, because sol failed. this isn't darkness, it's the sweetened flavor of a jedi's revenge. but this, too, is another failure that tallies itself in the back of sol's mind

on the ship. broken. empty. unmoored. jecki is gone. his entire team is gone. the sith is gone, still alive because the girl who couldn't be a jedi told him not to kill in cold blood. and then, it turns out, that osha is gone too. so what is left for him but the depths of his despair? what is left for a man like sol when his daughters are missing or dead? what does it matter that mae (the daughter that might have been but never was) is restrained on a table, unable to enact her own revenge upon him, when he could simply explain himself? assuage his own guilt? beg for forgiveness?

sol has lurked in the shadows since nightfall on khofar. the darkness is coming back. after so many failures, there is only one thing for sol left to do and that is to save osha. one last time.

yeah, no wonder this guy is 50 shades of fucked up

[snowwhitedraws]

I'm gonna have to put up this oshamir au where 23 year old Qimir teaches 19 year old Osha how to pleasure herself, how to please him, and how to make love.

The experience was so good he couldn't help wanting more even if it was years ago so when he caught news that osha is back, he was waiting but didn't understand why she doesn't even acknowledge him.

So... Qimir is kinda Osha's secret teenage infatuation.

He's a few years older than her and definitely gets along more with Mae. Hell, even her friends get along with him better than her.

There was this one time when they slept together which she assumes he won't give any importance cause she definitely felt like he was somewhat out casting her in his close circle and that led to her nursing a broken heart well into her 20's.

so when osha came back she did not expect him leaning against his car, waiting for her.

[dogboytim]

ok I have a another idea can you write Thomas Hewitt with a teen daughter who is in a relationship! Also love your work ❤️❤️❤️

Ok this one may be odd but I work all the time so uh. I hope it’s good. I don’t know if you mean like the reader being the daughter or the reader being Thomas’ partner. So I’m going with the second one. If you want me to write the first one too just let me know!

Amelia. That was the name Thomas had given your daughter. She had become his whole world the day she was born. He spoiled her. Well, the entire family did. She was the first baby girl in the family since Luda Mae. So they made a really big deal out of it.

Though as Amelia grew older, Thomas began to worry. He could deny it all he wanted but you knew something was eating at him. It got worse when you insisted on sending her to school. You had a friend in a nearby city that let you use her address to enroll Amelia. See, Thomas was used to being around his daughter 24/7. He needed to know that she was ok at all times. Sending her to school was a big jump for him. Her first day of High school was even worse. Thankfully, he seemed to worry less as her time in school went on.

“Hey, question.” Amelia looked at you as she got off the bus. “Um, could I bring Sam back to the house to meet dad?” Sam? You looked behind your daughter, locking eyes with the brunette boy. Amelia had only been in high school for two months and she already had a boyfriend? Or had they been together since middle school?

“Of course.” You smiled. You knew Thomas wouldn’t hurt the boy. Especially if he was Amelia’s significant other. He wouldn’t be happy about it but he needed to accept that she was growing up. She was a freshman in high school now. Of course she was going to start dating.

The two teenagers got in the back of the car. Both were nervous. Amelia more so than Sam. She had a reason to be with her fathers’ particular line of work. You just hoped Thomas would take the news well.

Sam seemed a bit shocked when the three of you arrived at the house. Both by how far out the family lived and by the size of the house. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Alright. I’ll go get your father while you introduce Sam to Luda Mae.” Amelia nodded, grabbing Sam by the wrist and leading him in to the kitchen. That left you to go down to the basement and break the news to Thomas.

Your husband was, as usual, working. His hands covered in blood. You’d have to make him clean up before he met Sam. It didn’t take long for Thomas to spot you. He gently wrapped you up in a hug, placing loving kissing all over your face.

“Amelia is in the kitchen.” You managed to get out between the kisses. “But you’ve got to clean up. She brought her boyfriend over to meet you.” His eyes nearly doubled in size. You could feel him get tense. A boyfriend meant that Amelia could get her heart broken and he didn’t want his little girl to suffer through that. Despite his worries, he did clean up to look somewhat presentable to Sam.

As the two of you entered the kitchen, you could see Sam practically shrink in his seat when he saw Thomas. Amelia seemed less nervous and more excited to see her father. She was nothing if not a daddy’s girl.

“Sam, this is my dad.” She introduced. “Dad, this is same. We’ve been together since middle school last year.” Thomas held his hand out to the boy, trying his best not to chase the boy off. No matter how much he actually wanted to. Sam took his hand, quickly shaking it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He smiled. “Amelia is an incredibly smart woman. If it weren’t for her help, I wouldn’t have passed science last year.” Thomas huffed. He knew the boy was trying way too hard now. As if sensing the tension between the two men, Luda Mae brought out some food. You and Amelia gave her a questioning glance before she silently confirmed that it wasn’t human meat.

Dinner passed smoothly. Sam became more confident and began to tell everyone about how he and Amelia first met. Though Thomas still tried to kill the boy with nothing more than a mere glare. It would probably take a few more visits for Thomas to actually get used to him.

The real issue was the goodbye kiss Sam gave Amelia when his parents came to pick him up. That made Thomas really upset. So upset, in fact, that he had to go down to the basement to let off steam. Amelia frowned, giving you a worried look. You assured her that you’d handle it and she needed to go to bed for school.

“Thomas.” You stopped on the bottom step, watching him rip and tear at the corpse on the table. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” He stopped, giving you enough Tim to walk over and gently grab his arm. He seemed to ease up at this.

“Thomas, I know you don’t like the fact that she has a boyfriend but she’s growing up. She’s wanting to experiment and try new things.” You smiled softly. “She’s genuinely loves that boy and I’m sure if they do break up, you’ll be the first person she runs to.” He just had to accept that killing him would be off the table.

He pulled down his mask, kissing your forehead. It was a gesture that you had come to learn meant that he understood you. Neither of you were ready for Amelia to grow up. Then again, no parent ever was.

[leclerc-s]

track 001. …ready for it?

blurb masterlist // next

❝ wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted ❞

daniel ricciardo was a private person, you could ask anyone on the paddock if the australian was single and they would all answer, “not a clue.” he wasn’t the type to brag about his recent flings or how many girls he slept with. but to be fair, that wasn’t a statistic some drivers wanted out there.

when they first met daphne wondered why someone like him would have such a private life. what skeletons could he possibly be hiding? it left her with a few questions, like how many girls had he been with? how many hearts had he broken? how many of them had he left haunted, wondering with the possibility of what if? was daniel ricciardo going to be the worst heartbreak imaginable in her life?

❝ younger than my exes but he act like such a man, so, i see nothin’ better, i keep him forever ❞

she knew all about heartbreak and being left haunted by previous lovers. even now, years after her relationship with a specific someone, she felt the repercussions of it. she had tried dating someone 5 years younger than her and that also ended in heartbreak. note to self and to the people, maybe don't date someone who was previously on a talent show/boyband and known for being flirty.

daniel was older than her by a few months and if everyone knew, they'd immediately jump to conclusions about them and him. it was a vicious cycle daphne and her former lovers faced. the media always thought they knew her or her former lovers. but daphne knew there was nothing better than loving daniel ricciardo.

daphne jones had been in love before, but it had never been like this. it had never been so mind consuming, this love consumed her completely. he might've been younger than her recent ex-boyfriend, but there was nothing better than him, she wanted forever with him.

❝ in the middle of the night, in my dreams, i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time ❞

nights were always difficult for her, mae argued she was probably an insomniac. daphne wouldn't argue, but she simply couldn't sleep because she had too many thoughts running through her head. although, maybe that was the textbook definition of an insomniac. daphne couldn't help it, it wasn't her fault that her thoughts consumed her completely at night. in the middle of night, usually when daniel wasn't and she only had her cats to keep her company was when it got the worst.

but in her dreams, when she was able to sleep, she dreamt of daniel. it made her feel like a teenager in love again. she didn't want to rush this relationship, she wanted to take her time, get to know who daniel ricciardo truly was. if she rushed things, they would be doomed to never work out, they would be a flame that burnt too quickly, something neither of them wanted. they would take things slow, with her schedule and his demanding race schedule, they'd find the time for each other. perhaps, that's why they became best friends before ever falling in love with each other, or at least that's what the case was for daphne.

❝ every love i've known in comparison is a failure, i forget their names now ❞

daphne wasn't going to say she good at love, she had failed many times, or so the media says. she wasn't perfect, she had made mistakes, some bigger than others. but she knew one thing, every other love felt like a failure compared to daniel ricciardo. loving him made her forget the name of every person she had dated before him. she wasn’t quieter sure if that was a good thing or not, only time would tell.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @anytimeanywherebitch-blog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! first blurb complete! yay! i'm not quite sure about the formatting for this just yet but i think i'm just going to pick lyrics out and write about the ones that i picked out. like i said, i don't know just yet.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[hotvintagepoll]

shadow bracket: skullduggery, plots, and schemes

Jessica Walter preens on the throne of broken dreams that sits at the heart of the shadow realm. She needs allies to secure her power; a voice of wisdom whispering at her right hand, to guide her to a triumph of tyranny. Far below in the dungeons, Fredric March pines away from love. It is time to elect a High Chancellor.

The shadow bracket accepts no propaganda, plays by no known rules, and is entirely unjust.There will be four polls with twelve contestants. Only the top two hotties from each poll will continue to the next level of the shadow bracket. Godspeed, losers.

[princessmisery666]

Please don't leave. Jensen Ackles and reader

Please Don't Leave

Summary: Friends to lovers to friends, that can work, right? 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, fluff, Jensen in his thicc Soldier Boy era (that’s a warning in itself!)

W/C: 4.3k

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki. Small Parts/Mentioned: Karl Urban, Jack Quaid, Gen Padalecki.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Notes: For the purpose of this fic, Jensen is not and never has been married. 

A/N: This drabble got way out of hand. 

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // any mistakes belong to me.

Graphics: Title card Jensen photo credit - https://twitter.com/_AlanaKing_ Soldier Boy image from Variety. Fly video belongs to me.

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // Main // Made Up Fic Titles

“Help me understand,” you implore. 

The first domino to set off the chain reaction was in the form of a famous and beautiful actress, Mae Nova, sliding into Jensen’s DM’s—a  very detailed offer with an accompanying photo that you saw by no fault of your own. How is irrelevant. Why is the issue. Why didn’t he delete it or immediately set her straight? 

“You’re the one that wanted this, Jay,” you say when he remains silent. “You're the one who pursued me, convinced me we should try and turn the ten years of friendship into something more.” 

“I know.” He sighs, pushing a hand through his longer hair. “And I don’t regret a second of the last six months we’ve been together…” he doesn’t say it; however, the ‘but’ demands attention like a flickering light.

“But you're having second thoughts?” 

“No!” he denies vehemently, finally looking you in the eye. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” 

“Well, one of us has to!”

He shakes his head, exhaling loudly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, sounding like a broken record. His heart rate is running high, and his chest heaves with every breath, but his vocabulary appears to be running low.

You tsk, fighting back a scathing comment about needing a script writer to make him talk. But it wouldn’t be fair. He’s not a man who runs from his emotions. He’s just trying to make sense of it all like you are. You have to remind yourself he’s not Dean Winchester. He doesn’t look much like him anymore either; longer hair, beard growing almost wildly, no plaid in sight in the Soldier Boy wardrobe at the back of the fancy trailer. 

Is that where the lines blurred? Working together for so long on Supernatural, have you both confused the other for your characters and their feelings toward the other?

“You can stop saying your sorry. I forgive you,” you say, and he turns a watery gaze your way. It almost breaks your resolve, but you realize it’s down to you to be the strong one. “I just need to understand why? Why didn’t you reply and tell her you're in a relationship? You’ve done it a hundred times before.”

“I don’t know.”

To make matters worse, Mae had landed a role on The Boys and would be working alongside Jensen.

“Jensen, you spent fifteen years of your life devoted to Supernatural, ten of those with me around. I think you were scared of the end, afraid of losing such a big part of yourself.” 

“I was,” he agrees, in a whisper as if you speaking the words is the reason for his realization of it being the truth.

“Maybe us being together was a knee-jerk reaction?” you suggest, “a way to cling onto the past.” You take a deep breath, and your chest tightens as if begging yourself not to say the next part. “Maybe you need a clean break, see what the world looks like without Supernatural… without me.” 

“What? No.” He looks offended but can’t hold eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

You can’t keep going around in circles, so you make a decision, sitting down at the small table and firing up your laptop.

“What’re you doing?” he asks, rushing to look over your shoulder, perhaps worried you’ll take it upon yourself to reply to the woman. “Searching for flights back home?” Jensen says, panic clear in his tone. Harshly he slams the laptop shut, and you look up at him. “You can’t leave.”

“Give me a reason to stay.” 

“Me, us!” he yells, “we can work this out.” 

You stand up and gently press your lips to his. Jensen’s hand automatically goes to the small of your back, guiding you around the chair to better press himself against you.

The kiss is natural and unhurried, but there’s too much tension in his body, and you know it’s because he feels it, too. This is your last kiss. 

A little breathless, you pull back. “I don’t wanna fight, Jensen.” 

“Me neither.” 

“So let me be the bad guy,” you say, heart aching but trying to hold it together. “Let me walk away before the wound is too big to save our friendship.”

He grimaces as if tasting something bitter but nods once, “I’m sorry.”

It’s been a long day. All Jensen wanted to do was take a shower and crash, but Karl convinced him to go for dinner with the cast and crew. 

The conversation is light, everyone enjoying their food and making small talk. It’s nice enough, but it’s incomplete because you're not there. 

He wishes it was you beside him instead of Mae. The seating arrangements have no rhyme or reason. It just happened that way. But still, he almost resents that she’s the one next to him. So much has happened in the weeks since he last saw you. He wants to share it all with you, and wants to know how you are - if you’re struggling with his absence as much as he is with yours. 

“Okay there, Ackles?” Jack asks, “You're a world away.” 

“Yeah,” he lies, sitting up straighter and smiling. “Just thinking…” 

Karl must know the look of a man missing his significant other because he asks, “About your girl?”

“Yeah,” Jensen admits, sighing heavily. He hasn't told anyone you broke up, and there’s been no speculation in the tabloids.

“Tell us about her. You never did tell us about your first date,” Jack says, “we all know you met on Supernatural, but not the story of your first date.” 

Jack’s an awesome guy, sweet and kind, he doesn’t know the reminder is like a kick in the teeth, but Jensen obliges. 

Jensen hurried across the lot, a coffee in each hand, the brown paper bag containing two cinnamon rolls dangling from his mouth. He was late, and Jared would give him shit for it, but it would be worth whatever Jared threw at him if it improved your morning.

Your latest Instagram post was a photo of a fly swimming in your coffee with the caption: “It was my last coffee pod. This just topped off a crappy weekend😭. #HappyMonday”. You were one hundred percent a coffee snob. You made it in a particular way using a fancy - and stupidly expensive - machine. You wouldn’t settle for the coffee on set. You’d rather go without. However, Jensen knew when you didn’t get her morning beverage, you’d be grumpy all day, and he hated to see you without a smile.

He headed for the makeup trailer, knowing that’s where you’d be. He kicked the bottom of the door gently as a way of knocking, then waited. 

He didn’t expect Jared to be the one to open it. He wasn’t due in makeup for another half-hour, but his lanky frame filled the space of the open door. “Look who decided to show up,” Jared jeered playfully. 

“Shut up,” Jensen mumbled around the bag, walking past him.

You were already there, looking through clothes on the rack, but stopped to smile at him. “Morning, Jay.”

“Here,” he said, handing over the coffee that was for you. “Hi, hey, morning.”

Confusion wrinkled your brow, but you took it. “Um, thanks.” 

“I saw your Instagram, and I know how cranky you get without your coffee, and you said you had a shit weekend, so I wanted to try and make it better,” Jensen vomited words without thinking. “I don’t like seeing you upset, and you’ve been down a lot lately, and I just thought maybe this would help, some, a little, maybe.” Breathlessly he shrugged and prayed the floor would open up and swallow him.

Your smile beamed, and you lifted the cup to your nose, inhaling the aroma, and hummed contentedly, “Mmm. You even got my order right,” you said and stepped closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek.

“That’s cause you're always posting about it on social media,” quipped Jared.

You tutted, rolling your eyes at your co-star but kept your eyes locked on Jensen. Dropping back down from your tiptoes, you said, “Thank you for this. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

“It’s nothing,” he lied. It was everything, and as your kiss dried on his cheek, it reminded him of your evening plans. “I know you’ve got a long day ahead, especially with your date later.”

As part of a charity event, you had agreed that they auction off a date with you. The auction had been silent, so you had no idea who had hired you for the night. Though the studio had assured you they had vetted the winner, you’d asked that he and Jared be in the bar next door in case of emergency.

“Oh god,” you groaned, “don’t remind me. I wish I never agreed to that stupid silent auction.” 

“Ah, don’t be such a downer,” Jared said, winking. “You never know. He might be the man of your dreams.”

Oh god, I hope not. Jensen thought. He’d already had to watch you be in a relationship with Chad, a man who neither deserved you nor treated you well. He couldn’t bear to watch you be with someone else again. He wanted to be next in line, and he would treat you as you should be, like a Queen. He just needed to work up the courage to tell you.  

“I doubt it,” you sighed, and Jensen swore your eyes flicked to him and away again. “Besides, who said it’s a man who hired me?”

“C’mon, you two,” Zara, the makeup artist, said, waving them toward the door, “out! I’ve got to get this one ready.”

Amongst a chorus of goodbyes, Jared and Jensen left. “What is it with you when you’re around her?” Jared asked as soon as the trailer door was closed. “You’re a bumbling idiot, and she’s starting to notice.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, she asked me what’s wrong with you. Thinks she’s done something wrong ‘cause you either avoid her or barely speak to her.” 

“I know, man,” Jensen groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Ever since you put it out there that we could be more than friends, I can't stop thinking about it. I don’t want to blurt it out at the wrong time, so I try to be careful about what I say, but I just end up tripping over myself.”

Jared clapped him on the back, “You just need to fake some of that Dean Winchester confidence.”

“Maybe.” 

“You better find a way to be around her ‘cause you’ve got a date with her tonight.”

“What?” 

“The silent auction,” Jared explained, “I paid for the date with her for you.”

“Jared, what? No!”

“I think Gen will have an issue if I show up for a date with her, and are you really going to leave her sitting on her own?”

“No, but Jared, I can’t,” Jensen panicked, “I’m going to make a fool of myself.” 

“You’re an actor. Just act normal.” Jared suggested before walking off.

Seeing you through the restaurant window, Jensen wanted to hug Jared so tight to thank him he’d crack a rib. But he also wanted to punch him so damn hard in the arm it’d be limp for a week. Why had he agreed to this? Okay, he hadn’t agreed. He’d totally freaked out, drank two beers, took three shots of whiskey, and then forced himself into the waiting car.

He was going to mess this up. He knew it. He was a fumbling, mumbling idiot around you, and dread settled firmly in his gut as he watched you scanning the menu. He regretted the whiskey and allowing Jared to talk him into this. 

He swore he was having an out-of-body experience as his feet took him closer to you. You glanced up when he got to the side of the table, and your face glowed with a smile. “Come to check in on me?” you asked, rising and pulling him into a hug. 

He held you a little tighter than he usually would, savoring the moment before releasing you and taking a seat. “Not exactly checking up on you,” he said, “this wasn’t my idea, but Jared brought you for me.” 

“What?”

“The silent auction, Jared was the highest bidder.” 

Confusion took over your features. “Why would he do that? I mean not that I’m not grateful, I’d much rather be here with you, but I don’t understand.” 

He realized it was now or never. “‘Cause he knows how I feel about you,” he admits, holding his breath for a reaction. 

“Care to elaborate?” you ask after a long silence.

“The truth is, I like you... a lot.” 

“I like you too.” 

“No,” he shook his head, “you don’t get it. I cherish our friendship and don’t want to lose it, but it's more than that. My feelings for you go beyond friendship, and I want to see if we could be more.” 

“I was so nervous,” Jensen chuckles. “I felt like I was auditioning for the rest of my life.” he contemplates it for a moment, “maybe I was.” 

“Well then, it’s good she reciprocated,” Karl laughs. 

“It took her a minute,” Jensen remembers, “but yeah, she came around.”

Your phone rings as you slot the key into your door’s lock. You’re juggling coffee, a pile of scripts to read, dry cleaning, and a bag of groceries. You have no hope of answering without dropping everything, so leave it to ring. You assume it’s Jared checking in on you after seeing the photos on TMZ. Jensen and Mae were pictured at a restaurant in Ontario. 

The phone stops as you enter the kitchen and set everything down on the countertop. 

Gen had already checked in to make sure you were okay, and you’d been anticipating a call from Jared to yet again invite you out to the set of Walker to meet one of the crew he was insistent you’d “hit it off with.” You’d politely declined, having already been on a date that had been pleasant and ended with a goodnight kiss, but you’d told the Padalecki’s it had left you feeling guilty as if you were cheating on Jensen. You needed time to let that feeling pass and allow the wound to heal completely.

You set about emptying the bags of groceries, and your phone rings again. You shuffle the contents of your bag, looking for the device, sure that it will cut off to voicemail before you find it. 

“Hello,” you answer, pressing it to your ear. 

“Hey.” 

Jensen’s voice freezes you to the floor, and you hold your breath. It’s been more than a month since you left him in his trailer, and you’ve only exchanged a few text messages. Why is he calling now? Does he want to be the one to confirm that he and Mae are together?

He says your name when your silence stretches. 

“Um, yeah. Hey, hi,” you say, clearing your throat to rid yourself of the shock.

“You sound out of breath,” he notes, “is this a bad time?” 

“No, no, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you explain, “caught me off guard.”

“Who were you expecting?” he asks, sounding accusatory.

“Jared,” you sneer, unable to stop the ire you feel.

“Sorry,” he says, and the apology tightens your jaw with the frustration it evokes. “I should have called sooner.”

“I haven’t called you either.” 

No one is to blame for the lack of communication. You both needed some space, so you were both right not to call. 

Neither of you speaks for a moment, and you debate whether to tell him you're busy so you can end the call and be done with the awkwardness. But he obviously put his awkwardness aside to call, so you might as well rip the stitches out and reopen the wound if that's what this is about. 

“Why are you calling now?”

“I need you to know that me and Mae aren’t together,” he says, firm and direct. 

You try to interrupt, “Jensen, it’s fine.” but he determinedly continues. 

“The picture they posted was cropped,” he explains. “The whole cast and some of the crew were there. The photo made it look like it was just the two of us, and that’s not the truth.”

“Even if it was, it’s okay.” It’s not okay, and from the moment you saw it, you’ve felt nauseous. Still, you assure him, “You’re free to do what you want. You don’t owe me an explanation.” 

He sighs, and you can hear the scowl in his tone, “It’s important to me that you know.”

You think it’s sweet that he’s taking the time to explain himself, even if it’s not what you expected. But Mae was never the problem. The situation she presented only shone a light into the crack that you had both been ignoring. Yet the information that Jensen has shared is a welcomed relief in the wake of the storm, but it’s just the eye. More questions are coming, questions that will likely only cause more hurt and confusion.

“Why?” you ask, “why do you want me to know?” 

“Because I wanted it to be you next to me…” he pauses. 

You're not sure if he wants you to say something or read between the lines, but you can’t let yourself trust the spark of hope that jabs your heart like a pinprick. 

“Even if we’re just friends,” he adds. 

That pinprick pierces the thin shell you’d managed to build, and it feels like a thousand jagged pieces of glass lacerate your heart, and you chew your top lip to stop the emotion from escaping in a sob.

There’s a loud bang on his end of the line, and someone calls out, “We’re ready on set, Mr. Ackles.” 

“I gotta go,” he says. 

“Okay,” you say, and immaturely add, “Bye, buddy,” before hanging up. 

The party has been a monumental success. You helped Gen, along with a professional party planner, to pull it off.

“So you really had no idea?” You ask Jared once everyone seems to have greeted him and wished him a very happy fortieth birthday. Technically it's not his birthday for another four hours, but the surprise party had needed that early element to make sure it went off without a hitch. 

“None,” Jared says, smiling. “I was fully prepared to fly home tomorrow to spend my birthday with Gen and the kids. I was looking forward to it, actually. I didn’t want a big fuss,” he chuckles, looking around the room, “but I’m glad you helped Gen make a fuss. It’s nice to see all the old faces.”

“Not all of them,” you note sourly, commenting on Jensen’s absence. “He wanted to be here, but you know how tight filming schedules can be.”

“I know,” he nods with a tight, sad smile. “It would have been good to see him. For me, at least.” 

“Don’t.” 

“It’s my birthday. I’m allowed,” he teases.

“It would have been nice to see him,” you agree before Jared can start in on the lecture. “I think. I don’t know. It’s weird and painful, and maybe I'm better off not seeing him until it’s not weird and painful.” 

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Sounds like you have it all under control.”

“Absolutely.” 

You mingle with old friends from Supernatural and new friends from the Walker set. The crew member, a camera operator named Vince, is as cute as Jared promised him to be, and you find yourself tucked in a corner talking with him as the night continues.

You hear the cheerful reunion before you see it. People applaud and shout greetings as Jensen crosses the room and embraces Jared in a tight hug. They hug for a long time, whispered words exchanged between brothers, and you see Jared’s eyes tear up. His night is complete now that Jensen is here. 

A few people greet Jensen with hugs and shakes of his hand, but his eyes never seem to focus on them. He distractedly looks around them and seems disappointed when he sees the next person waiting to greet him.

You mostly manage to keep your focus on Vince, but you can see Jensen in your peripheral. You don’t react, but you notice when he finds you. He stares for a long moment, maybe hoping you’ll feel his eyes on you and look at him, but you don’t, and he doesn’t approach.

You're doing nothing wrong, but an uneasiness sneaks up on you. It’s not that you feel like you're somehow betraying Jensen. It’s that you're betraying yourself by denying how you feel. It wouldn’t be fair to start anything with anyone new right now. They’d be a rebound. 

Vince seems to notice your focus has shifted and politely parts ways with you.

You spy Jensen across the room, catching up with Brianna, and head for the bar, needing something more potent than wine to make it through the rest of the night.

If possible, Jensen seems to have grown broader, arm muscles bulky beneath the material of his shirt, and you're definitely a fan of the Soldier Boy look. He looks good with a now-trimmed beard and long hair. The sight sends an ache of loneliness through your chest, remembering how it felt to be wrapped in those arms. 

A shot turns into two, and when the bartender steps away to refill your wine glass, you feel the air next to you shift. You don’t have to turn to see who it is, the cologne gives him away, and as it arrests your senses, he nudges his shoulder into yours. The familiar heat of his body makes your chest tighten. You so desperately want to turn and embrace him, but you know your fragile emotions would crumble under the weight. 

“Whiskey, neat,” he tells the bartender, his voice deep and gruff. He turns his body towards you, one arm resting on the bar, and you sip your drink, silently wishing it was hard liquor again instead of wine.

“Hey,” he says when you don’t look at him.

“Hi,” you respond blandly.

“How are you? You look good.”

“So do you. Really. You look incredible,” you say, without actually looking him in the eyes. 

“I hate having to do the diet and exercise thing, though,” he chuckles, “it was so much easier when all I had to do was wear flannel.”

You laugh, but it's bittersweet because everything was easier when he was wearing flannel. “How’s it all going? Stepping into the shoes of a new character?”

“Daunting, but fun.” Jensen talks, and you do all you can to listen and engage but can’t bring yourself to fully meet his eyes.  

He says your name so delicately it feels like a caress that sends a shiver through you. You close your eyes and know what he’s asking before he pleads, “Please look at me.”

His eyes have always been mesmerizing, and you know if you gaze into them, the spell will be cast, and there will be no escaping him, even when he’s miles away again. He waits for a beat, but your eyes remain firmly shut, and he closes the space between you, demanding attention. 

His exhale wafts through your hair. It’s too close because it's not close enough, and you feel the heartache rising in your chest.

“It was good to see you, Jensen,” you flash a smile in his general direction, picking up your glass.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing your wrist as you turn your back to him. “Don’t leave.”

You freeze in place and turn to look at his hand cuffing your wrist. Slowly you raise your gaze from his hold to his face, preparing yourself for the enchantment of his eyes, but his sad expression is downcast. His chest heaves with a deep breath before he finally looks at you, despondence turning to tentative hope.

“I know I should have said it back then, but I’m saying it now.” His voice is nearly a whisper beneath the muted conversation and ambient music, but it’s clear as a bell to your ears. “Please, don’t leave.”

You turn back to face him, and he takes two deep breaths before he finds the words.

“The last couple of months, I’ve been miserable without you.” He admits, “I’ve had to fight myself to eat, to work out, to do anything that didn’t involve staying in my trailer with a bottle of whiskey. I know that things are weird, but I realized my hesitance had nothing to do with the ending of Supernatural. Yes, I was scared. But I was scared of how easy it was with you, how much I cared for you, how quickly I realized that I am head over heels in love with you.”

You choke out his name as tears well in your eyes, and he steps forward to swipe the first droplet from your cheek.

“I was ready to tell you I’m in love with you, and you were booking flights home,” the heartache of the reminder dims the light behind his eyes, and he drops his gaze to battle whatever emotion he’s feeling. “That scared me more than anything. I didn’t want to say it in the heat of the moment or on the phone, and I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. It doesn’t matter if you don’t. I need you to know that I love you.”

You don’t have words, unexpectedly wishing you had a script so you don’t say something stupid. Then, just as surprisingly, you realize you don’t need words. You take a half step forward and kiss him. Jensen responds immediately, a hand caressing your cheek and drawing you closer as the other slips around your waist to tug you flush against him. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and he groans into your mouth. His kiss gets you drunker than any alcohol ever could, and after a moment that could have been a minute or an hour, you feel lightheaded. 

Jensen chases you as you pull back, placing swift kisses on your lips and pressing his head against yours.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” you sigh.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” he says, “I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Tag List Info

Tagging Dean Winchester and Supernatural List. Sorry if you don't like RPF.

@alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // Main

[fredmundo]

below the break is the first chapter of my oshamir fic. i don't know if it's any good. i've been too depressed to edit and work on it since the news so here it is.

any feedback, comments, interaction, whatever would be so appreciated and loved. i think i just need to post this here, in a space that loved this series along with me to hopefully inspire me to write the other 8 chapters i plotted lol

please forgive any errors but feel free to send corrections to my inbox

so yeah, untitled oshamir fic ch. 1

Osha thought there would be a heaviness to her steps when she walked onto the Stranger’s ship. This ship was to carry her away from Mae, away from her home. It was to bring her to the island and a galaxy of unknowns. 

Osha had always hated the unknown, hated feeling unsure in her place growing up on Brendok, never quite feeling herself or like she belonged to herself. The feeling of unease never unfurled from her chest while she was at the academy. So she dreaded its arrival now on this ship, with the dangerous man.

But it never came. 

Osha had chosen this, freely. That grip on her chest never tightened when she thought about the Stranger and her agreement to train with him.

There was no fear burrowed in her heart but there was guilt and anger as they pulled away from the ground and entered the atmosphere.

Brendok was irrevocably stained once again. Stained with blood and the sour taste of hate.

Osha clicked on the com that she had earlier turned off. “What do I call you?” There was a twinge to her voice that she hated. She didn’t want to care that she had killed Sol, broken his heart with her mind. She wanted freedom. 

“Qimir. You may call me Qimir.” There was a crackle and pop sound in the comms that Osha made a mental note to look into when they returned to the island.

“Not Master?” The vitriol leaked into her words. She didn’t want to call him Master, didn’t want to be owned in such a way, under his power and control.

“Qimir will be fine.” It sounded like he was smiling.

“Okay. Qimir.” Osha tested the word, how it felt against her lips, on her tongue. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the planet. We will rest. Then we will train.”

That’s it? That’s all the information he was giving her? Frustration bled into her. 

Brzzt. Osha shut the comms off again. 

The waves crashed against the walkway, soaking stone beneath her boots. She hadn’t waited for the Stranger– Qimir. The weight of her choices suddenly felt like too much. 

She stared out at the sea, the violent waters that crashed against cliff sides and shores. She wanted to believe that she had only just opened her soul to these negative feelings, the anger and fear and desire, but she knew that was a lie.

Osha was born with this in her. 

Beneath the Bunta tree had always felt like a place of solace, of freedom, where Osha could be without prying eyes and expectation. The yellow leaves hung like curtains, swaying in the breeze. A blue and red Brendoki Flutterby flew in front of her. It seemed to dance on the wind with a freedom that Osha could only dream about.

Today was to be her and Mae’s Ascension. Mae couldn’t wait, she burned with the desire to be a witch and to be just as Mother Korril and Mama had hoped. Osha knew she didn’t want to be a witch, and didn't want to be constrained to a set of rules that felt like a hand around her throat.

She wanted what that flutterby had. And she hated the creature at that moment.

Osha reached out, pulling on the thread, and held that tiny creature still. It was at her mercy. What she willed, would be. 

But she didn’t want to deprive another creature its freedom like her was to be. She released her hold on the flutterby.

The sound of boots on the wet stone approaching her roused Osha from her memories.

Qimir slowly approached Osha where she stood at the edge of the water. While the planet was small, the island more so, Qimir knew he would feel drawn to her power on the biggest planet in the galaxy. 

He would feel her across the galaxy. She had quickly become intertwined in his being; the thread of the force tying them together.

Qimir stood near Osha now. Not as close as he wished to be but as close as he dared without any indication from her that his proximity was welcomed. When their eyes finally met, the thread that bound them together tugs him closer. He cannot help but be drawn into her orbit. 

He stepped closer until they were almost shoulder to shoulder. He reached out slowly, careful, and he dared to touch her. Qimir wrapped his hand, that monstrous thing that killed her friends and former teachers, that would kill again, around her own and the lightsaber she earned from Sol. His thumb dragged across her soft skin. 

Both their eyes turned to look out at the horizon, the sun above and the sea below them. The thread taut between them.

He had known. Known that she didn’t need his words or guidance at that moment. Known that what she needed was to be seen and accepted.

Osha knew that he could see her, could see that warring her spirit between who she had been told to be her entire life and who she was choosing to be.

So he didn’t say a word, just looked at her. He never looked away from her. As soon as he had seen her, dressed as Mae, coming into that damned apothecary, Qimir knew he wasn’t going to look away. He could feel a kinship in her through the force. He could feel her power. 

“KRIFF!” Osha roared in frustration from where she laid. The soft grass of the plateau they were training on had concealed a stone that now dug into her shoulder.

“Your stance is good but you are fighting too much like a jedi, too controlled.” His easy voice, buttery, normally would be welcomed but with her back jabbed by a rock, his voice felt grating.

Growling out, “aren’t you supposed to be fixing that?”

They’d been training every day for the last few weeks, since returning to this planet, Osha did not know the name of it, it wasn’t charted as far as the Republic was aware. Every day, Osha wound up on her back, having failed to best Qimir. Though, her stamina was returning and the feeling of a weapon, even if it was just a wooden staff, had stopped feeling foreign to her.

“Getting rather angry, Osha.” He draws out the sounds of her name, pulling at her seams with that elongated second syllable. He clicked his tongue, tutting at her for her rage. He knew the more he picked at her, the angrier she would get. He wanted her to unleash herself from the cage she insisted on putting herself in.

The sound of his tongue clicking, as if he disapproved of her emotional outburst, brought only more anger to the surface. Osha shoved up from the earth, picked up that sparring staff. Her grip was a vice, knuckles white, as she took her stance. Normally, this is where Sol would’ve scolded her, told her to cool her mind of the fire that burned her now. 

But Qimir liked the fire, asked for her to burn him, too.

“O-sha,” the insolent man continued to tease her. Goading her into striking him.

Moving fast, Osha closed the distance between them, striking out with anger, something she was told to never do. She let it fuel her strikes against Qimir. He moved easily to block her but she was also able to block the counterstrike he threw at her. 

“Good, Osha.” His voice had lost that teasing lilt and was now filled with pride. He stepped back, signaling to her to pause in her attacks. “But you need to be–” She struck at him again, feeling a rush of exhilaration at his barely having blocked the blow in time.

“Unpredictable?” She continued to strike, moving to control the momentum of the fight, pushing him in the direction she wanted, toward the plateau’s edge. 

Of course, he determined her goal. With whatever strength he’d buried, he quickly turned the tides against Osha. He kept her on her back foot, pushing her back across the plateau. 

With a strong final series of moves, Qimir hooked his own staff around hers and twisted, and Osha’s staff was ripped from her grip. But he didn’t stop at disarming her, with another move he brought the staff behind her left knee pulled. Her stance now wider than comfortable, unbalanced, he easily took her feet out from under her and Osha’s back met the hard earth again.

Another rock found its home in her spine. “Kriff! Gods! You nerf-herder, bastard!” Osha cursed up at Qimir, who was laughing.

“Quite the mouth on you. Not very Jedi of you.” The tease was back in his voice. He laughed lightly, there was affection for Osha that she was unused to.

“I worked on starships for 6 years. Cursing is a job requirement.” She reached under her and grabbed the offending rock and threw it at him. He of course, dodged it, a smile still plastered on his handsome face.

Yes, in her own thoughts, at least, Osha could admit that Qimir was beautiful. With a jawline that sharp it would be hard to believe that he could look soft, that his eyes could be anything but filled with anger. But now, they were bright with subtle crinkles, sunlight bouncing off his perfect tanned skin. 

“That was much better.” He turned that perfect smile in her direction, offered her a hand.

“I still ended up on my back.” Osha didn’t feel like it had been all that better of a showing. Her back was definitely going to show bruises. 

“Yes,” he righted her onto her feet. While he dropped her hand, he didn’t move to step away from her. His right hand lifted and pulled grass from her locks. “But you fought without restraint. You ignored whatever combat rules the Jedi pretend exist.” His eyes move around her face and head, checking that she is free of earth, before locking with her eyes. 

He still hasn’t moved back.

Qimir knew he should step away from her. She often sought out space, having grown comfortable with isolation after her years as a mechnic, but he couldn’t bring himself to just yet. Staring into her dark brown eyes that Qimir could swear contained stars with how bright they shined after a bit of praise slipped across her skin. Or when she felt powerful and strong. 

Qimir found himself waiting for these moments of closeness with Osha, moments where she wasn’t so guarded. 

But he wouldn’t push, wouldn’t risk her abandoning him. He could’ve handled Mae leaving him, there was never this level of connection. He had seen her anger and thought there was more to her but he now knew that he was simply waiting for Osha. Whatever depth he had seen in Mae was just Osha, through the force and the way they’d been made. 

But she is still just looking at him. 

He still doesn’t move away. The hand that had been clearing grass from her hair now bravely moves to cup her cheek. His thumb lightly brushed across her cheekbone and soft, brown skin. 

If he could live in this moment, he would. “You should never cage yourself, Osha. The Jedi saw your power and were afraid of it and did everything they could to erase entire parts of you. But you shouldn’t continue their work. You deserve freedom.”

Her heart raced, breath pumped into her body and he spoke. It was like Qimir could look through her, into her. He understood her and he encouraged her.

You deserve freedom. That was all Osha has ever longed for. Since beneath the Bunta tree, to the academy, to working as a mechnic, and now in this moment. Osha craved freedom.

“We should wash. And I would like to check your injuries from today.” Osha nodded at him and finally took a step back from him. 

He gathered the staffs and his bag that seemed to go with him everywhere. He moved toward the path down, toward the beach and tide pools. 

“Qimir,” Osha called and he paused and turned. “I do want freedom. I don’t want to be,” Osha mulled over the word he had used. Caged. Had the Jedi really done that to her? Put her into a box and locked her away? Had Sol? She felt the word drop out, the sentence she had meant to finish. 

He smiled at her but it was almost sad like he could see that she was struggling with the realization that she had been hurt by the Jedi. “Come on, Osha.” She could almost feel him saying, save that for another day.

Osha followed him, lengthening her strides to catch up and walked next to him.

The water of the pools was cool but not cold and it felt like heaven against her skin. Qimir had entered the pool first, swimming straight ahead and never looking back toward Osha, giving her privacy to undress.

Qimir didn’t need privacy. He liked to feel her eyes on him while she desperately tried to not let her gaze linger. 

Now the water lapped at her back, the skin warmer with injury was now cooled and it took most of Osha’s concentration not to moan at the relief. Osha worked through her routine now, letting her focus shift from the man in the water to herself. Dunking herself under the water, wetting her hair and working what was left of her soapstone through her hair and across her body. Ensuring a thick, even coat of soap across her hair, she dunked under the cool waters once again and shook her hair, spreading out like a jellyfish’s tentacles, floating through the water.

Osha always thought of her mother when she washed her hair, and remembered the peaceful moments of her childhood when her mother had taught her how to care for her hair. Mother had always shown her that pride and care of oneself wasn’t a bad thing but a beautiful thing. Since having left the Jedi, Osha had been trying to relearn this and relearn how to value herself. At the academy, they teach you to lose yourself, not to take pleasure in small acts of self gratitude and expression. 

They don’t do this to be evil though it is sometimes still the case. They discourage any affection to your life before the academy and for Osha that meant losing a thread to her mother and herself. 

Now, here in this water, hair washed, as Osha floated in the water, she let herself feel connected to her mother in a way she hadn’t felt for sometime. 

Osha missed her mother more than ever now. She missed her mother’s soft hands when they would plait her hair just so to match with Mae. She missed her mother’s encouraging voice as she would walk Osha and Mae through their training. She would give anything to hear her voice again, soft and silky with a touch of smoke.

Her final moments with her mother had been bittersweet. But she was grateful to have gotten to be wrapped in her arms one last time.

Before she was killed.

“Osha,” Qimir’s voice skimmed across the water, “are you okay?” The sound of water sloshing as he slowly made his way over to where Osha swam.

Osha nodded, turned to face him, not knowing tears coating her face until she locked onto his eyes. His brow scrunched in concern and his mouth opened slightly at the sight of pain. “I’m alright. Just thinking about my mother.”

He still swam closer. “Tell me about her.”

This pulled at something in Osha. She’d never been encouraged to speak about her. Sometimes, while at the academy, she had been afraid that she would forget her mother entirely.

But here was this man, deadly and full of emotion, everything the Jedi had warned against, and yet, he met her with a kindness she hadn’t expected.

So she does. She tells Qimir about her mother, everything she can think of from how she looked and walked, to the power she could command, to sneaky trips out for spice creams and how much she wishes she wasn’t dead so that Osha could tell her that she was right.

And Qimir listens. Floating there in the water, getting wrinkled for how long he lets Osha ramble, and he laughs with her at happy stories, and lets Osha work through her pain at the hard moments when her voice lodges in her throat.

When they finally climbed out of the pool, the sun rose just past its apex in the sky. They’ve only just reached the cave but Osha doesn’t get settled like they usually do. Normally, Osha will rest or write, like she did when she was a child, and Qimir will craft cortosis armor. But today, Osha drops her training equipment and trades them for tools.

With the tools, Osha turned to head out to the ship, wanting to get to work before the path became obscured under the waves.

Qimir noticed that Osha wasn’t taking her usual spot on the mat and opening her journal.

A spike of fear erupted in his chest, “where are you going?” Qimir wouldn’t stop her from leaving him, wouldn’t deny her freedom of choice. But Gods, he was afraid to lose her, afraid to be alone. He followed her out the cave but not down the path.

“I noticed a popping sound in the ship’s communications that I wanted to fix.” She didn’t fully turn around, just through the reasoning back at him over her shoulder.

Oh. That was a relief to Qimir. Slightly embarrassed that his immediate thought was that he was being abandoned, betrayed.

“Fixing the communications systems,” he gave a breathy laugh, “I would’ve thought that you’d be sick of the sound of my voice by now.” He smiled, remembering her cheeky muting of him during their first passage to Brendok.

“Yes, well,” she was shouting back at him, having turned as she still made her way down the path toward the ship, “who says I’m not?” She smiled brightly at him. Turned and continued on her way.

She hadn’t brought anything with her except her tools. Not even her saber. She wasn’t going to leave him, at least not today. Qimir let himself be soothed by the thought. He returned to the desk where he worked to forge her a gauntlet of cortosis.

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Pierre

Pierre Gasly x OC

a.n. okay, so i usually don't have a thing for pierre but for some reason i felt inspired? probably because i was listening to the song pierre by ryn weaver. enjoy! (a heads up that the timeline for the F1 season is off, but it's for the plot, promise)

a.n. II : thoughts on a second part to this? i just wanted to get this out and feel out if there's any interest...

song lyrics are bold & italic

may 2023

liked by maeve.mcd, someone_else, and 227 others

this.is.diana took on the fourth of july, i met a man, pierre, lied about his age, but i didn't care, spoke in broken english but the heart was there a little too seriously

maeve.mcd i- di what did you do

this.is.diana *who did i do is the better question

this.is.diana and yeah i don't have an answer for that

maeve.mcd live, love, miami, florida?

f1fan pierre? miami? hmm...

"Di, it's not that bad, I pro-"

"Mae, my love, I was stupid enough to have sex with a stranger named Pierre and now I haven't had my period in 2 months," I can't help but remind, head in my hands. "And now I'm sitting here on the edge of the tub waiting for a timer to go off."

"Okay, so it is bad," She admits, leaning over from where she sits next to me, wrapping me in her arms. "But no matter the result, you have me. And your mom. And we will do everything we can to find this Pierre man on the little info you have," She assures, bringing on the tears.

"I hate you."

"I love you too," She returns, the ringer going off and ruining our moment.

"What's it say?" I can't help but ask upon hearing her silence.

"Looks like you're going to be a hot mom earlier than expected, Di."

september 2023

liked by maeve.mcd, dianasmom, and 279 others

this.is.diana woke up with somebody when the morning came back in july, and now i can happily announce that i am expecting a mini me in february 2024!

in the mean time, if anyone knows a man named pierre, says he's 22 but is actually 26, french, with blue eyes and was in miami in may, please dm me, I just want to talk :)

maeve.mcd my gorgeous gorgeous best friend and adorable god child bump

this.is.diana i love you so much

f1fan okay this may be a stretch but i saw your post in may and now i'm seeing this one and formula one raced in miami in may and there's a French driver named pierregasly

this.is.diana just looked at his page, thank you for the info sweetie!

f1fan anytime! hope this helps and congrats on your baby!

unknown is calling: accept call or decline call?

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

My Miracle : Prologue

Word Count : 1.4k

Warnings : pregnancy, birth, swearing, food mention, weed mention, heartbreak, break up

December 2021

            Crying filled the room and Jin held her hand tighter, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said, handing the tiny bundle of joy to Y/n. “Congratulations.” Y/n looked up at Jin before looking back at her little girl. She studied her features, comparing them to her own features, picking out the ones that match Namjoon’s.

            She thought she’d be sharing this moment with him by her side, not her best friend. She was supposed to be witnessing the birth of her daughter with her fiancé, yet he was nowhere to be found. Disappeared in the middle of the night without a word. When her labour started, she frantically texted all their friends, begging them to tell her they knew where Namjoon was, to no avail.

            Part of her hopes he shows up. She keeps glancing towards the door, hoping the next person that walks in will be him. She would forgive him. She’d be mad, but she would forgive him. Because he showed up.

            Jin watched, his heart clenching every time he caught her looking towards the door. He knew she was waiting for Namjoon. Part of him was too, not wanting to see his best friend, the love of his life, broken on her favourite day of the year. The other part hoped Namjoon never showed up.

            The door opened but only a nurse walked in. Y/n was trying to figure out why Namjoon would just disappear. But she couldn’t think of anything.

~

            “How does it look baby?” Namjoon asked with a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck. She beamed as she looked at the tree her fiancé decorated just for her. He enjoyed Christmas, but she loved it. It was one of the first things Namjoon learned about her.

            The day they met, she was standing and admiring all the lights around her. Namjoon wasn’t paying attention, looking at his phone as he walked, bumping into her and causing her to fall to the ground. He helped her to her feet, apologizing profusely, but she was giggling. It was love at first sight for both of them. And it wasn’t long until they were dating, planning the rest of their lives together.

            “It’s perfect.” She said and Namjoon’s smile widened as he brought her in for a kiss. “Thank you for making this house the Christmas house of my dreams.”

            “I would do anything for you. And for our Christmas miracle.” He said before squatting down to talk to the baby still growing inside his fiancée. “You’re the best Christmas gift we could ever ask for.”

~

            “Thank you for letting us live with you. I’ll find a place as quickly as I can so we can get out of your hair.” She was quietly unpacking some of her things while Ari slept in the next room. Jin could see the tears she was holding back as she unpacked. He knows this wasn’t the life she was expecting to live, but he would do anything to make everything better.

            “You don’t have to leave. You can stay here and I can help with Ari. I really don’t mind. It would be nice to have the company.” He took a couple steps forward, placing his hands on her shoulders to give her a massage. “Now come downstairs with me so I can cook for you while you rest.”

            “What would I do without you, Kim Seokjin?” She giggled.

            “You’ll never have to find out.”

December 2022

            “Tae and Kook want to know if they could bring a plus one.” Jin asked while staring at his phone. Y/n was rushing around the house, putting the finishing touches everywhere. “Y/n darling, Ari is turning one. She’s not going to remember this.” He said, putting his phone away and giving Y/n a shoulder massage. “Everything looks amazing.” She melted into his touch, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes.

            “I didn’t know Tae and Kook were dating anyone.”

            “As far as I know Tae is just hopelessly pining after Mae. But Jungkook and Kayla just recently started dating.”

            “Well I have to meet the girl that made Taehyung want to settle down. And the girl that can put up with Jungkook.” Y/n giggled. Ari’s cries came through on the baby monitor so Y/n quickly went to go check on her. “Tell them yes. I can’t wait to meet the girls.” She said before rushing up the rest of the stairs to grab her baby.

            Jin could tell Y/n was trying her best to be okay as to not worry anyone. But he could see that the light in her eyes has dulled again. She hasn’t mentioned Christmas once. The house is devoid of any Christmas decorations. There’s no gingerbread house or gifts except Ari’s birthday gifts. She lost her love of Christmas the day Namjoon walked out.

~

            “How long have you and Kook been dating?” Y/n asked and Kayla almost spit out her drink. The three girls clicked immediately and Jin loved seeing the light return to her eyes. Ari was back in bed after hours of playing with her uncles and celebrating her first birthday, so the adults were just socializing.

            “We aren’t dating.” Kayla answered. “He’s just my best friend.”

            “Does he know that?” Mae asked with a laugh, pointing towards Jungkook.

            “Of course he does.” Y/n and Mae both didn’t believe that but left the conversation at that. “How long have you been dating Jin?” Y/n’s eyes widened slightly at the sudden question. She hasn’t even thought of dating since Namjoon left. She is grateful that Jin allowed her and her daughter to move in, and that he’s willing to take on the role of her father. He spoils both of them with love and gifts and attention. It was more than she could ever ask for.

            “We’re just friends.” She was still in love with Namjoon. Secretly waiting for him to come back. Waiting for him to want to fix things.

            “Isn’t he Ari’s dad?” Mae asked. Y/n shook her head. Kayla and Mae could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t want to talk about Ari’s dad, so they dropped the topic all together. “Do you smoke, Y/n?”

            “Oh no. I don’t like the smell of cigarettes.” Mae giggled and shook her head.

            “I meant weed baby.”

            “Right. Yeah I do. Well I haven’t since Ari, but I used to.” Jin came over, asking what the girls were talking about, then telling Y/n to go smoke if she wanted to, that he could take care of Ari. “Are you sure?” She asked and Jin nodded.

            “I’m coming too.” Kayla piped up.

            “Of course. You’re friends with Kook so I just assumed.” Mae laughed and Kayla nodded, telling Mae her assumption was right. It was then that the three girls knew they were going to be friends forever. That the connection they have only comes once in a lifetime. Like their friendship was written in the stars, fate bringing them together when they needed each other the most.

December 2023

            It’s been two years since she’s seen Namjoon. Two years since he walked out on her and their daughter. Now he stands 20 feet away from her, his arms wrapping a girl in a hug, a smile on his face as he embraces her.

            She thought he was her forever. Due to get married after the birth of their daughter, but she gave birth with Jin by her side and Namjoon nowhere to be found. Lies had spilled from his lips during her favourite time of year, surrounded by Christmas decorations and Christmas baking. Now the thought of Christmas makes her sick to her stomach. It reminds her of lies and heartbreak.

            She wanted to look away but it was like a trainwreck. Her eyes were glued on the scene in front of her until a body blocked her view. “You don’t need to look at that.” Jin gently grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. “Just look at me. It’s just me and you, darling.” Her eyes welled up with tears as she looked towards Namjoon again, seeing him looking at her. Jin grabbed her chin again, making her look up at him. “I said look at me. Only at me.”

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