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

[ijustwannabecool]

The Finish Line Was Always You

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary... The world didn’t know he had someone. Let alone that he was marrying her. On the eve of your wedding in a hidden castle off the coast of Greece, old insecurities creep in. Meanwhile, Max reflects on the life he had before you—and how nothing mattered until you walked into it.

Trigger Warning: Smut, language, insecurities, mentions of past toxic relationships, emotional vulnerability, fluff overload, wedding vibes, soft husband!Max

A/N: happy reading! I hope you enjoy this story. If you like it, please reblog, like, and comment your thoughts. I wanna read your guys' thoughts. As always, requests are open. Have a beautiful day :)

----

Greece — The Night Before

The castle was a dream.

A place carved into white cliffside and kissed by sea spray. You’d first seen it in a magazine, circled it in ink, and said: this one. Max hadn’t blinked.

“If this is the one you want, it’s ours.”

You didn’t need a thousand guests or a week of events. Just this—just him.

But tonight, tucked into a suite made of stone and silk, you couldn’t sleep. Not from nerves about the dress or the weather or whether the catering team would remember your sister’s allergies.

No—it was deeper. Older.

That feeling in your chest that said maybe you weren’t meant for things like this. Maybe this was a dream you’d wake from before vows were ever exchanged.

Your fingers fidget with the edge of your robe as the sea wind dances through the open balcony doors. Lavender bushes rustle, waves crash below, and somewhere out there, Max is asleep.

You hope.

Because you’re not.

And you don’t realize that at the same time, he’s wide awake too—thinking about the first time he saw you.

---

Monaco – Flashback

Max used to date models.

Not because he liked the spotlight—they just happened to be who floated in and out of his world. Parties, paddocks, premieres. The kind of women who knew their angles and posted the right photos. Beautiful, yes. Impressive, sure.

But never real.

He remembers sitting across from one on a rooftop in Monaco. Candlelight. Champagne. A view of the harbor.

She scrolled Instagram while he talked about karting.

When he made a joke about losing to Lando in an iRacing sim the day before, she blinked slowly and asked, “What’s iRacing?”

It wasn’t her fault. But it was always like that. These dinners that felt like briefings. Women who wanted Max Verstappen the brand—not Max, the person.

So he stopped looking.

And then you walked into his life like a crash he didn’t see coming.

No PR stunts. No staged paddock photos. You were working at a café in Amsterdam when he ducked in, hoodie up, craving something sweet after a long sim session.

You served him a slice of chocolate cake and said, “You look like you need a nap.”

He snorted mid-bite. "You have no idea."

You didn’t ask for a photo. You didn’t even flinch when he said his name. You just poured his coffee and said, “Cool. Still think you need a nap.”

You were sarcastic. A little chaotic. Completely unimpressed. And the second he left, he turned right back around and asked for your number—cheeks pinker than he'd admit.

---

Present — Castle Suite, Midnight

You try counting breaths. Focus on the white drapes swaying in the breeze. But your chest is tight.

Your hand finds your phone.

To Max: Can’t sleep.

You don’t expect an answer.

Until— Max: Me neither. Door’s open.

You don’t hesitate.

You grab the keycard he gave you earlier, wrap yourself in the robe, and tiptoe across the cobblestone courtyard barefoot.

The castle is ancient. Quiet. Lit only by moonlight and flickering candles left from dinner.

When you press open the door to his suite, Max is lying in bed, chest bare, eyes already on you.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, voice deep and rough.

You crawl into bed without a word. His arms are open before you even ask.

“You nervous?” he asks softly, brushing your hair from your forehead.

You nod. “A little. Just feels too good to be true.”

Max frowns. “It’s real. I’m here. Tomorrow is real.”

“I know. But part of me keeps thinking… what if you wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone more—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, tone serious now. “Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t want someone more. I want you.”

Your throat tightens. “Why?”

His fingers brush your cheek. “Because you’re the only person who’s ever seen me—not the trophies, not the noise—me.”

You bury your face in his chest, breathing him in.

“You wanna sleep here tonight?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

You nod against his collarbone. “Tradition can suck it.”

His laugh rumbles beneath your cheek.

“I’m marrying you tomorrow,” he says quietly.

“I know.”

“I’m gonna spend the rest of my life loving you. You believe that?”

You nod again, and this time, it’s steady.

“Good,” Max whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then sleep. I’ve got you.”

---

Greece - The Morning Of the Wedding

You wake up wrapped in Max’s arms, your back to his chest, his nose buried in your neck. Sunlight cuts through the white linen curtains, and for a minute—just one—everything is still.

Then the day comes rushing in.

You’re getting married.

Max hums when you try to move. “No. Five more minutes.”

“You’re not supposed to see me today, remember?”

“Screw that.” He pulls you tighter, his voice raspy. “You already broke tradition last night. Might as well finish the job.”

You giggle, turning in his arms to face him.

He looks at you like you’re something he’s still afraid to blink at, in case you disappear. His thumb brushes under your eye, across your cheek, then lingers near your lips.

"You're sure?" you whisper.

Max just nods. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

And somehow, that’s all you need.

---

Castle Courtyard – Just Before the Ceremony

You’re standing behind a stone wall, arm hooked through your sister’s, waiting for the music to start.

You can hear the ocean. The chatter. The quiet hush as guests take their seats.

And then—

The music shifts. Strings swell.

You breathe.

You step out.

And Max sees you.

He didn’t believe in fate. Not until you.

But the moment you step into the courtyard, framed by sun and silk and stone, something inside him crumbles.

His breath catches.

And for once in his life, Max Verstappen forgets how to be composed.

His eyes blur. His lips part. A single tear escapes before he can stop it.

He’s seen podiums. Trophies. Glory.

But nothing—nothing—has ever looked like you.

His best man, Daniel, leans over and whispers, “Breathe.”

Max doesn't hear him.

Because you’re walking toward him now. And all he can do is watch.

---

Your voice trembles, but you don’t stop.

“I’ve never known peace like I do with you,” you whisper, tears brimming. “You see every messy, imperfect part of me and love me more because of it. You are the calm in the noise, the warmth in the cold. My best friend. My favorite person. My home.”

Max blinks rapidly, lips twitching at the corners.

He steps closer.

His vow is soft, simple, raw.

“I didn’t know what I was missing until I met you. But now I can’t imagine a single day without you in it. I don’t need podiums. I don’t need legacy. I just need you. Forever.”

There’s no dramatic kiss. No choreographed moment.

Just his hands on your waist. Your nose brushing his.

And when he finally leans in, the whole world disappears.

---

Reception – Garden Dinner

The garden glows under strings of warm light. Olive trees sway in the breeze. A long dinner table stretches across the lawn, full of candles, laughter, clinking glasses.

You sit beside Max, your hands tangled under the table.

Your cheeks ache from smiling. Max can’t stop looking at you.

He whispers things between bites of dinner. Like, “That dress is going to drive me crazy,” and “You looked like a goddess walking toward me,” and “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

It’s intimate. Warm. Nothing like what the tabloids would've imagined for him.

And that’s the point.

This isn’t for the world.

It’s for you.

---

Later — Honeymoon Suite, Greece

Max carries you over the threshold like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

You’re both quiet at first. Eyes wide. Breathing soft.

You’re married.

The dress falls to the floor. His shirt follows. Fingers trace over bare skin, reverent.

“I want to remember everything,” he whispers against your neck.

You nod, arms around his neck. “Take your time.”

Max lays you back on the bed like he’s setting down something sacred.

His mouth finds your collarbone. Your sternum. The soft underside of your breast. Every inch of you gets a kiss, a murmur of Dutch under his breath you don’t understand—but feel in your bones.

“Mine,” he mutters as he lowers himself between your thighs, licking a slow stripe that makes your back arch. “You’re mine now.”

Your fingers thread through his hair. Your thighs tremble around his shoulders.

“Max…”

“Let me taste my wife,” he growls.

And he does. Until you're gasping. Writhing. Coming with a cry that echoes through the stone walls.

--

You're still shaking when he slides up your body, pressing his mouth to yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

"Ready?" he asks, voice hoarse, tip already nudging at your entrance.

You nod, desperate.

He pushes in slow. Deep. Unrelenting.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel like heaven.”

Your hips meet his, and the world fades.

There’s no rush.

He moves with purpose. Kisses you like a man starved. Tells you over and over that you’re beautiful. That you’re his.

When you come again��sobbing his name into his neck—he lets go too, burying himself deep as he moans into your shoulder.

---

You're wrapped in blankets, tangled together, his hand tracing over your ring.

“I want a million nights like this,” you murmur.

“You’ll get them,” Max says. “Every single one.”

And when he presses a kiss to your temple, your chest finally unclenches.

Because the voice in your head—the one that once whispered doubt—is silent now.

He’s your husband.

And the finish line?

Was always him.

The end.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story. If you liked it please reblog, like, and comment. That would help me greatly. Requests are open. :)

[cacartoon]

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

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

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

SNOW WHITE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And they all live, happily ever after.

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

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3)

Prev. - Next Chapter

-> context: you like this show

-> fandom: cookie run kingdom

-> warnings/tags: female reader, shadow milk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My abilities-?”

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

[talesfromawannabewriter]

Fruitful

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Inspired by art done by @evilmenshoe80)

Warning: Domestic Abuse

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

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

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

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

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

However, this happiness did not last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he was wrong.

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

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

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

Then came the last extermination.

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

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

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

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

--

"Time to wake up, little one."

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

"Open your eyes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sera: Welcome to life first woman.

[chaos--s]

platonic yandere! mafia mom x reader

general warning for violence

--

"Leave me alone." You turned your head when she tries to feed you. Your stomach growled at the scent of food but you pushed the feeling down. Because no, you weren't going to eat the food of your fucking kidnapper.

"Your tummy seems like it really wants to have some food in it, c'mon it's your favorite." Her voice has a sing-song tone as she wiggled the spoon full of food. "No." You knew you were acting like a child. It's embarrassing but you didn't want to give in.

Fuck Verena. Fuck her delicious smelling food.

She sighed, placing the spoon back into the bowl. "Why won't you let me feed you, hm?"

"Because I'm not a child. I can fuckin-" You see her frown at your choice of words and you coughed. "I can feed myself."

She places the bowl of food in front of you. "You promise you're gonna eat this If I let you feed yourself?"

You eyed the food and looked back up at her, you nodded. Finally she nudges the food to you, allowing you to feed yourself. You practically scarf the food down, almost choking on it.

"Slow down," She laughs, patting your leg. "You're gonna get a tummy ache later, don't want that now do we."

You take her advice and slowly finish the food. First time in the two days you've been here you've eaten anything, she had insisted on attempting to feed you every time. And every time you refused.

Verena was just happy you finally ate something, even if she was a little disappointed that she couldn't feed you herself. Having food in your stomach after so long makes you sleepy, you don't realize that you were nodding off until you heard her cooing.

"Aw, is my baby feeling tired now?" She moves to carry you to your room and you tiredly protest. "Shh, shh it's alright sweetheart. Just moving you to your room, you can get some proper sleep there alright?"

You hated whenever she carried you with such ease. It made you feel small and safe, just like she wanted. You feel yourself being let down onto a plush bed and you started to fall in a deeper sleep.

--

Sometimes you forget that Verena was the head of a mafia. The way she treated you was so careful and gentle that you forget, her hands have ended the lives of so many.

Why was it so jarring to see her crouched over another one of her victims, blood covering her face as her fists continuously pounded into the already unconscious body of the man. Maybe he was dead, it was hard to tell from the small hole of the slightly open door.

The sounds. It made you nauseous.

"Boss. The kid's awake." One of her men points out. You jump as she turned around, her eyes staring at you. Shit. You weren't supposed to go outside of your room without her.

You watch in fear as she cracked her neck, dropping her brass knuckles onto the floor and walk towards you.

Instincts kick in and you started to walk away from the door. You hear your name called and you start running. Running back to your room and tucking yourself under your plush blankets.

It was just her. Verena. Your kidnapper, yes, but she hadn't hurt you. Not yet at least.

"Honey..." Her voice was so sad. Bringing you back to the first time you cowered away from her. "You shouldn't have seen that, I'm sorry. Mama's sorry, okay? I should've locked the doors."

You feel her hand pat your back as she speaks. "I would never, ever hurt you. I'd rather die first before I would ever hurt my precious kid." She whispers.

It's so genuine. You finally peek out from your hiding spot and looked at her, she had a small sad smile. "Hi there."

You hated that you felt bad for being scared. You just witnessed her kill- hurt a man. You watched her beat him up ruthlessly, and yet somehow you feel bad for running away from her in the first place.

"Is he okay?" You ask. "He is."

You know its not true but you nod anyways, allowing her to cuddle you again. Those hands that have hurt many holds you so gently.

[overnightheartbeats]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hcneymooners]

hello, hello.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it would’ve been Heaven to me.

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

love you.

allyson. x

[firstkanaphans]

Any gl gossip beyond love (gmmtv)

My GL gossip is limited—and very likely outdated. I don't go digging into the girls' lives like I do the boys because their fandoms are batshit insane and would probably hunt me down and kill me if I so much as suggested any of these women are dating men. But here's what I know:

Since you mentioned Love Pattranite and I know people will ask, she has been in a long-term relationship with the same guy for years and years and years. She used to post about him publicly, but she obviously doesn't do that anymore. (Because people are insane.)

At one point in time, Milk Pansa was rumored to be dating Noeul Nuttarat and I'm not gonna lie. The evidence was compelling. They were definitely in the same places at the same time, often alone. No idea if they're still dating, but I'm assuming not. One of the stranger QL pairs for sure.

Freen Sarocha was illegally filmed a couple years ago kissing Seng Wichai inside her own home. They never denied the relationship and I'm inclined to believe they're still together, but they're super private.

A couple years back, some photos of Charlotte Austin and Sea Tawinan were leaked where they looked super friendly. They both denied being anything other than friends but I don't believe them. The photos were old, though, so I don't know if they were actively dating or just dated in the past.

Grace Budsarin (from Mate) is likely dating Title Kirati. They post a lot of Lovestagrams. He did sue for defamation, though, when those rumors started circulating and I don't think you're allowed to call it defamation if it's true? But maybe Thailand's laws are different.

All of the above are pretty well documented in internet circles, but if you want to hop on the delulu train with me for a minute...

I know I joke about Thor and Nut dating but since Nut complains about being single on an almost daily basis, I'm pretty sure Thor is actually dating Sonya Saranphat instead. They are so careful, though. They like each other's pictures on Instagram, but that's it. The only reason I'm even suspicious is because Nut accidentally posted a picture of Thor at the Affair premiere last year and why else would he be there?

I also personally think Namtam Tipnaree and Mark Pakin are dating, but that's just based off vibes. They've denied it multiple times.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

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

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

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

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

word count: 4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @legitalicat

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

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

Dividers by @djarrex

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you saying?” You ask again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bratbarzal]

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

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

--

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

Until he meets your gaze.

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

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

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

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

He wouldn’t be picturing you like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[demetera]

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

Thank you so much for this question lovely anon :D

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[supersonic1994]

I need to be myself, I can't be no one else (self-realization + confirmation, defiance to those who might say or have said otherwise), I'm feeling supersonic (sonic = sound waves, becoming one with the music/it's about the music/music! music! music!/something Other, rock ‘n roll), give me gin and tonic (pretty direct reference to rockstar position and relationship towards drinking), you can have it all, but how much do you want it? (call back to the first line of the song = "I need to be myself..." but are you willing to face audiences perception of you in doing so?), you make me laugh, give me your autograph (call back to "give me gin and tonic" we are brought more into the world of rockstars, speaker is either a rockstar themselves or wants to be while they address one), can I ride with you in your BMW (once again continued ref. to rockstar life as well as BMW symbolic of middle and upper class the speaker has not fully obtained), you can sail with me in my yellow submarine (cheeky beatles reference + speaker does not have that status symbol, speaker feels comfortable speaking to this other person, sailing/ocean metaphor that pops up in noel’s music constantly -> escapism, abstract longing the speaker has), you need to find out 'cause no one's gonna tell you what I'm on about (I'm not easily understood if you're not paying attention so you best pay attention), you need to find a way for what you want to say (speaker is giving advice to this rockstar friend saying they also need to be themselves like the speaker, but intentional with how they do so), but before tomorrow 'cause my friend said he'd take you home (suggests that the speaker and whoever they are talking to are the same/run in the same circles) he sits in the corner all alone (the driver/friend is unhappy, supposedly because he isn't true to himself) he lives under a waterfall nobody can see him, nobody can ever hear him call, nobody can ever hear him call (another water metaphor -> nobody can see him, he is being hidden/washed away/feels like drowning/crying out and being unheard, speaker is warning friend to not be like him) you need to be yourself you can't be no one else (confirming) I know a girl called elsa, she's into alka seltzer (elsa the dog but also people in general within the rockstars life -> alka seltzer is used as medicine for hangovers), she sniffs it through a cane on a supersonic train (illusion to cocaine, "supersonic train" moving at the speed of sound/living fast, moved forward by music) and she makes me laugh, I got her autograph (another rockstar, like the speakers friend) she done it with a doctor on a helicopter (sexual taboos that rockstars indulge in) she's sniffing in a tissue (more cocaine) selling the big issue (fame/selling big) when she finds out no one's going to tell her what I'm on about (the speaker remains true to themselves but because of that, the speaker becomes something different from their friends/not understood even when they’re not hiding away-> she will find out who I am, but she won't understand it, but even so I can't pretend to be someone else, find a way to have both) [repeat chorus which acts as a warning of what happens when you deny who you are] 

[gimgerrat]

Ok, so I'm a little late to the analysis party for Ave mujica, but I really need to ramble about one of my favorite characters. Nyamu in my opinion has some of the best writing I've seen in a long time, and it makes me a little insane. Which is saying something as we also have characters like Uika and Mutsumi. The funny thing is that Nyamu isn't one of my blorbos I just really love her.

Anyway, Nyamu is a very complex character that has so much to her that it's nearly impossible for me to go over everything. Nyamu as we know her doesn't change all that much over the course of the series, staying relatively true to herself. She's competitive, abrasive, selfish, unagreeable, and goal oriented. These things do not change about her, and that is what makes her so compelling to me. However, what does change is what her goals are and the means/lengths she will go to achieve them.

At first, Nyamu would do anything to achieve her goals, blatantly going against the advice of Sakiko with the unmasking of the band members so she could get clout from the fame. Later on in the series, Nyamu's approach changes, mainly due to Mutsumi/Mortis. She's both insanely jealous of and admire them. She's aware of the advantage that they have in the acting industry due to their connections with their parents and the fact she's "naturally" gifted at acting. Something she wants for herself, yet she declines Minami's recommendation. Nyamu a selfish and self-serving character who would do anything for her goals DECLINES a once in a lifetime offer from someone who has the power to make and break her career. It's everything she could ever hope for, and yet she doesn't jump at the chance like she did before. Why?

It's simply because that she wants to topple the giants herself. There's a proverb that is often used in reference to Nyamu a lot, Trampled wheat grows straighter and taller. Nyamu is the wheat being stepped on by Minami, Mutsumi, and Mortis. She at this point seems to feel like she wants to earn her place on her own. I think that Nyamu seeing Mortis with her connections and "natural" talent being handed to her in her eyes on a silver platter. And she essentially wants to prove that she is better, that she worked so hard to get where she's at, and that she did it on SKILL alone. Nyamu is headstrong like that. Another thing that lead me to this conclusion is when Minami states, "Being around that child all the time makes me feel miserable. A monster" Nyamu later reacts with "I really hate it" when reminiscing on it. This is partially self-loathing and part if Mutsumi/Mortis can achieve that level of acting then it must be possible for her too, and she wants to prove it. She wants to surpass the people who she admires the most. To her, Minami comparing her child to a monster is her saying it's impossible and shows that she's given up on being better, that like her declining the offer, shows that she's as much of a coward as she is but unlike her, she's going to face it.

Now, it wouldn't be a Nyamu analysis without episode 10s confession scene.

This scene is so telling for so many reasons, for one it shows while Minami is scared of her daughter Nyamu is not. "I just can't take my eyes off you," is her, acknowledging Mortis for her skills and talents. Nyamu is acknowledging her own skill level to Mortis' and is basically saying that I am going to reach you one day, but right now I see you.

Another thing I would like to point out is just how softly Nyamu says I love you, it almost feels uncharacteristic of her, but it somehow feels like the most sincere thing she's said yet. Almost like she's dropping her facade, her mask, for a moment just to drive home how serious she is. It's also emblematic to the parallels that they both share. Mitusmi, Mortis, and Nyamu all act/mask as a way to survive. This does not mean they are not true to themselves while masking/acting they are, and are doing so in service to their interests. And just like how Mortis drops the act when Nyamu points it out, unafraid to bare the fangs of her truest self, Nyamu lets her own act slip. Even if it's just for a moment, she feels comfortable or at the very least respects Mortis enough to show her. Nyamu is unafraid just as much as she is scared. This moment feels as sacred as it is curated. Right after she drops the mask, she puts it right back on and continuing the act, and so does Mortis to an extent. They both now can see right through each other. This declaration is saying we are equals, even if the difference between us is still great. Their feelings are laid bare not for an audience to see but just for them.

Anyway, I just really love Nyamu as a character as well as her dynamic with Mutsumi/Mortis. I defentily didn't go over everything about her character as there is a lot more nuance that I either didn't see or can't articulate.

[fantasydreamland]

Longing

jorah mormont x fem reader

Summary: You follow your friend Daenerys when she leaves Pentos with the Dothraki. The journey is much harder than you expected but the company of the older knight you now longed after makes it all worth it.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, p in v, fluff, angst, dothraki violence, age gap, longing, spoilers

Word count: 2.2k

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You were the daughter of Magister Illyrio and the only true friend of Daenerys while she lived with you. When she was sold to the Dothraki you were surprised that your father granted you leave to join her when she left Pentos but you were happy to go and experience more of the world.

It was definitely not an easy adjustment going from living in a castle with proper cooks and servants to living in tents and eating mostly horse meat. Going from being around lords and ladies with proper manners to being around the Dothraki savages. But you cared deeply for your friend whom you were just a few years older than and did not want to abandon her with a group of strangers and her cruel brother Viserys.

There was one person you met that made the journey a little easier and that was Ser Jorah Mormont from Westeros. He was the sworn sword to Daenerys. He was an older man but quite handsome and wise and very kind to you. Overtime you developed a bit of a crush on him, feeling flustered or blushing when he was around you. Though you’d never act on those feelings because you did not think he would ever reciprocate them. You didn’t care about his age but you feared he looked at you as no more than still a child.

Little did you know he had developed strong feelings for you. He cared about you deeply, even more so than the Khaleesi he was sworn to. It was hard for him not to when you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and your personality was unlike anyone he’d ever met. He did not know what it was but you were different. He couldn’t help but stare at you when you weren’t looking. His chest would tighten at the sight of your lovely smile or your carefree laugh especially if it was directed at him. He knows he would never confess those feelings to you or anyone, he assumed you would never think of him the same way because he was a fair amount older than you. Why would someone as beautiful as you want an old knight like him?

So you both carried on as if you weren’t secretly falling for each other. The days went by full of small sweet moments and longing looks. You started to notice the way he looked at you and even Dany began to tease you about it. It made your heart race to think he might think of you romantically, the way you thought of him. Yet he remained completely unaware of your feelings for him.

**********

The day the khalasar raided a city was an especially rough day. You knew the Dothraki were savages but the brutality still came as a shock to you. The city was filled with cries and screams of people being slaughtered or beaten, and women made into slaves being taken over and over again by many members of the khalasar. Dead bodies and severed heads were everywhere you look. You were light headed and extremely nauseous. When you couldn’t stomach it anymore you fled away from the group in search of your tent.

The distant sounds of the savagery faded as the day turned to night. You had been crying alone in your tent, your hands pressed over your ears until the horrid sounds were replaced by the Dothraki feasting and celebrating outside.

You heard shuffling by the door of your tent before a soft voice called to you.

“(Y/n)?” Jorah says softly.

“Come in.” You say as you get up from your bed and attempt to make yourself look presentable.

When he entered the tent he could see the few lit candles illuminating the despair in your red puffy eyes as you looked at him.

“Ser Jorah.” You greet him politely.

“Are you alright, my lady?” He asks.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You try to fake a smile.

He looks at you with concern, clearly unconvinced you were fine. He had seen you run away earlier and came to check on you as soon as he was able. You let out a heavy sigh in defeat.

“This is just… much harder than I imagined it would be.” You admit quietly, your voice shaking as you hold back tears. “I’m grateful for the way they have treated me and also Daenerys but… the Dothraki are…” You trailed off.

“Savages.” He states and you nod sadly. “I understand how difficult it must be for you, my lady. Don’t take this the wrong way but… why do you stay? I could safely see you home to return to your father in Pentos.”

“I stayed for Daenerys because I did not want to send her away alone with that horrid brother of hers. But even after the death of Viserys I…” You stop yourself.

Jorah gives you a questioning look as he slowly steps closer to you.

“I have found other reasons to stay…” You say in a whisper as you look up at him with glossy eyes.

The small distance between you and the way he looked deeply into your eyes made your heart race. Without thinking, your hand comes up to brush his cheek and his breathing nearly stops as he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. You lean in slowly, pushing yourself up on your toes slightly to reach his height. You press your lips to his so gently they barely touch, nervous to how he will react. When you pull back there is shock on his face but a firey look in his eyes. To your surprise he leans down and captures your lips again, his hands coming to cup your cheeks as his lips press to yours, firm yet gentle, claiming yet caring.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you slip your tongue into his mouth as he gladly allows you, a low grumble of a moan escaping him that sends shivers down your spine. The kiss is slow, passionate, there was no need for words when so many feelings are spoken through the soft dance of your tongues. Your hands grasp his loose shirt and tug lightly in a silent command, he breaks the kiss for a quick second to pull his shirt over his head. When he looks back to you you’re pulling your own shirt off and he gulps as his eyes greedily take in the sight of your bare breasts.

“You are… so beautiful.” He says lowly in that deep raspy voice of his.

“So are you…” You whisper shyly, running your hands along his tone chest and arms, his breath catching at your touch.

A small smile crosses his features before he turns serious again, your mouths reconnecting. You walk backwards with your lips still connected, leading him to the small bed that was set up in your tent. Your fingers lightly run down his chest and torso, making him shiver under your touch, until they reach the hem of his trousers. You break the kiss to look into his eyes as you pull the string of his pants loose. You watch as his jaw clenches and his breathing becomes heavier.

“Is this ok?” You ask in a whisper.

He quickly nods and captures your lips once again but this time in an all consuming hungry kiss. A near growl rumbles in his throat as your tongues dance passionately together. You part to pull off your own skirts before helping him tug off his pants. Your breath catches at the sight of his hard length standing proud before you. You wrap your fingers around him and he throws his head back with a moan as you stroke him.

“(Y/n)…” He moans your name in a low grumble, the sound shooting straight to your core.

You pull him onto the bed as you lay on your back. He fits perfectly on top of you as you wrap your legs around him. You whimper when you feel his hardness pressing against your core and Jorah swears he has never heard a sweeter sound. He kisses you again then slowly moves his lips along your jaw and neck as you grind against him.

“Are you certain?” He mumbles against your skin, causing goosebumps.

“Yes.” You breathe.

He groans and presses a firm kiss to your lips as he slowly enters you. Both of your mouths drop open at the feeling and you let out a needy drawn out moan as you take him in inch by inch until he is fully sheathed inside you. He stills for a long moment, breathing heavily against your neck. It had been years now since he had been with a woman and the way your warmth gripped him so tightly made his head spin. It was an effort not to embarrass himself and come inside of you right then and there.

There had been a couple late nights where he shamefully gave into his desires when he could not stop thinking about you, about this. But the pleasure his hand and imagination brought him was nothing compared to the real thing. The real feeling of being inside you, the sight of your bare body underneath him, the sweet sweet sounds you made, even your scent, it was all so intoxicating.

Finally, he pulls most of the way out of you before slowly sliding back in. A moan escapes his lips and the sound sets your whole body aflame. He sets a slow pace, basking in the feeling of you. You rhythmically rock your hips together as you both let out low moans and heavy breaths at the feeling.

“I love you…” You whisper, the words escaping you beyond your control.

He freezes, and for a moment you regret the words until a hand brushes your cheek and he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I love you, (y/n).” He says as he looks deeply into your eyes.

Hearing the words come from him made your heart melt and you grab his face before capturing him in another passionate kiss. You move to change your position so you are straddling him. You sink back down onto his length with a moan and his head shoots back with his eyes scrunched closed at the feeling. He quickly opens his eyes again to look at you like he does not want to miss a single second of this.

Your hands rest on his torso as you begin slowly rocking your hips, a loud moan escaping you as pleasure shoots through you at the new position. The beautiful sound of it nearly makes him lose the last of his restraint but he was determined for you to reach your peak first. You had been with a man only once and it was painful and quick, nothing at all like the pleasure Jorah was bringing you.

He stares up at you like you are a goddess as you continue to ride him slowly, taking in the heavenly sight of you in all your glory. He couldn’t believe this was happening as he watched you grind against him, it all felt too good to be true. It truly felt like he was living in a dream and he would kill the man who would dare to wake him.

His hands roam from your hips up your body until he reaches your breasts, squeezing them gently. Your own hands come to rest on top of his, the extra support allowing you to move faster. You quickly barrel towards the edge as you move faster against him, your moans steadily growing louder. Jorah was muttering something too quiet to catch, you could not hear the desperate prayers he whispered to the gods begging to help him last just a little longer while you reach your pleasure.

Lucky for him your orgasm quickly crashes into you like a tidal wave as you cry out above him, not caring if the whole khalasar could hear you. Not even a split second later his hands shoot back to your hips to pull you hard against him as he comes deep inside you with a low guttural groan. You ride out your high with the feeling of him pulsing inside you.

You fall down onto the beside him on the bed as you both pant, catching your breaths. You look to him and he looks back at you with a smile, a beautiful genuine smile you did not see often. His head was still reeling, hardly believing what just happened. You giggle shyly and lean over to kiss his cheek.

“I meant it, by the way.” You say, breaking the silence.

“Meant what?” He asks, still panting.

“That I love you…” You say quietly.

His smile returns and he brings your lips to his in a chaste but romantic kiss.

“You have no how precious you are to me (y/n).” He says before placing another kiss to your lips. “I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

You cuddle up to his chest and let out a content and satisfied sigh. You begin to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat as he gently strokes your messy hair.

“I want many more nights like this…” You mumble sleepily.

“Me too.” He says in a sleepy grumble and places a kiss to the top of your head.

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taglist: @mormont19 @lena-wolvie

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[adhd-riddled-crow]

✨️ OH, IT'S WIP WEDNESDAY TIME ✨️

I was tagged by my darling friend in this weird ass world @alystrin03 <3

Tagging the only other people i know who are crazier [said with love] than I am @dragonagegayz @whispersleo

Let's continue with Mahanon's stress induced angst, shall we? Don't worry, Dorian's here to bodydouble and comfort our poor elf in his time of need. As he should 💚✨️

“You're overthinking again.” Dorian was sitting at Mahanon's desk in his quarters, purely for the purpose of being there as his partner packs for their trip to Wycome.  “I know my mother. I have every right to overthink.” The elf said with a sigh, “I just want her to have a good childhood. One where she feels loved by those around her. And one where she doest feel ostracised for being different from the others. A childhood unlike mine…” his hands stop refolding Ashwin's blanket for the umpteenth time and come up to hold his biceps, his long fingers squeezing at his bare skin. “This is a bad idea. Perhaps we should wait until she's older. Or- or we could call this off entirely. I could send a letter to Fíadh telling her that something came up and I was needed elsewhere… yeah that could work.” His fingers squeezed tighter around his arms, his nails digging crescent moon shapes into his skin, as he continued to spiral.  “Or– and hear me out here– we could go so that you can see your siblings. I know you haven't talked about them much, amatus, but I can tell from Fíadh’s letters alone that they miss you just as much as you do. If not more,” Dorian had come up behind him somewhen during his tirade. Hugging him from behind, the mage rests his chin atop Mahanon's shoulder and places a kiss to his right cheek. “Even if your mother doesn't entirely approve of us as a whole, what matters most is that they do.” Mahanon fidgets with his hair and lets out a saddened chuckle, “How did I get someone like you in my life?” “I should be the one asking you that question. A handsome man such as yourself? I'm the lucky one here.” “I'm not that handsome. I'm far too pretty to be handsome.” “And who said you couldn't be both?” Mahanon turns around and leaves Dorian's embrace at that, his hands on his hips and an eyebrow arched in challenge. “And if that's true, tell me. Name one thing that amounts to either of those words.” “Alright, for one I adore those beautiful bright blue eyes of yours, I could lose myself in them for hours. Second, you cut one handsome figure, darling, and I simply cannot get enough. Third, your hair is stunning and I think you should wear it like this more often. When you drape it over your shoulder I get a perfect view of that delicious neck of yours. I could keep going, but I think you've heard enough, for now, amatus.”  Mahanon was just standing there now, his hands running along his braid as he sports a deep blush. Dorian however was sporting a knowing, yet adoring, smirk. “Others may have said in the past that you ‘didn't deserve’ or that ‘you'd never be worthy’ of anything. But they couldn't have been more wrong, Mahanon. Your mother couldn't be more wrong. And if he weren't actively busy currently,  Cullen would agree with me too.” The elf opens his mouth to protest but nothing comes out, only a quiet whimper as tears well up in his eyes. The tears kept flowing down his cheeks, like an endless stream of emotions bubbling over the edge. His eyes an overflowing sink, his tears the tap that won't stop running. Why won't it stop? “W- why won't it stop?” He rasps, his emotions running high enough that they were affecting him more than usual. “Oh sweetheart.” Dorian coos. Mahanon falls to the floor, his seemingly never-ending tears still flowing.

[bestworstcase]

jaune’s been alone for decades

he’s desperately happy to finally see his (real) friends again but he’s also on edge and scared of rejection because he knows he isn’t okay and he’s really really not okay, he’s not thinking clearly anymore—

and the girls are like. well he’s cracked and we can’t trust him anymore

which he overhears and is heartbroken about but also kind of pissed because like. he’s been alone. for SO LONG. and they go right to treating him like a problem to manage

and what i’m getting at here is

when salem told ozma the gods ended the world, he didn’t believe her. and didn’t tell her how or why he’d come back or what he’d been told to do because he didn’t feel that he could trust her anymore.

the lost fable deliberately obfuscates salem’s interiority but it also specifically flags salem “”lying”” to ozma (hint: not actually lying) to the audience as wrong (the sudden red glare). and she was alone for a very very long time. and jaune is her heroic echo, and—yeah.