#so maybe we should have just lived without tunes

[hollowsentinel]

Mistakes Have Been Made

I am doing music for the company picnic. I am very overgeared and underskilled for this endeavor.

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[ninguitar]

୨୧　𝓐IN'T YOUR GIRLFRIEND!　˒˒　MB

─── ﹙☕️﹚you're not her girlfriend, and she's not yours, so why was her jaw clenched at the mere sight of you with another person?

pairing. manon bannerman x 7th member f!r genre. angst & fluff wc. 1k notes. lowk don't rlly like this but wtv 😭 loosely based off of a gilmore girls scene tho !!! req here ( MASTERLIST )

now playing ⋆ boyfriend by ariana grande ft. social house

"IT'S JUST ME AND YOU, AGAINST THE WORLD."

since the start of dream academy, that was all manon repeated, the particular sentence becoming a mantra in your head. the soft, gentle tone of her voice only made you believe her words more—the way they just roll off of her tongue so smoothly, like it was everything to her.

the strobing lights of the lively party, accompanied by the buzzing of laughter, music, and people's bodies up against one-another's, only serves to make your head reel. you knew the responsibilities of being an idol, especially socializing with others to form connections on late nights where you could be at home, unwinding after a stressful week of constant promotions.

and yet, despite all the chaos that fills the venue, all of manon's mind was set on one thing—you. her jaw clenches with her eyes scrutinizing your every movement, and her ears tuning in on the sound of your infectious laughter from across the venue.

manon thinks—no, she knows—that from any proximity, she could pick up on the sound of your distinct laughter, and the way your hair was tousled and lips glossy. her eyes drift to your silhouette in the crowd, accompanied by another silhouette, noticing the gleaming, ear-to-ear smile playing on your face.

with her ring-clad hand curling around the glass of her soda, the drink practically crumples under her fist from the pressure on it, her irritation growing at her chest from the sight.

for the entirety of dream academy up to now, you and manon have been stuck in the same continual cycle like mice—the two of you attached to one-another's hips, then random, sporadic periods of avoiding one-another, and then back to acting like you two would die without seeing each other. so why was manon seething while her eyes scan for you over the crowd?

a set of arms suddenly snake around your waist, making a quiet squeal escaping your throat, before you realize it was manon.

"jesus," you mumble under your breath audibly, as you take a deep breath.

"who's this?" the ghanaian girl mutters, her eyes narrowing down at the guy beside you. your eyes quickly dart towards the guy with uncertainty, as you meekly mumble out, "just a new friend."

"new friend, huh?" manon drawls, sending a glare down the guy, her jealousy practically like a ticking bomb, "isn't it getting late? we should leave, shouldn't we?"

the girl nudges your shoulder gently, beckoning you to just agree, as you struggle between whether or not you should follow manon.

"c'mon, it's like, what, 10 pm," the low register of your "new friend" barely audible above the blaring party music, "loosen up!" he exclaims, a toothy grin playing on his face, which did nothing but fuel manon's resentment.

"i don't need to be told to loosen up," the ghanaian girl sneers, shaking her head, as she scoffs while making inaudible comments under her breath. a slight furrow forms between her brows, her eyes piercing through the guy, with her mouth slightly open, as if she was in disbelief at his ego.

"jeez, what's your issue?" he grumbles, as he leans his arms on your shoulders, a grin playing on his face. "besides, 'm sure she still wants to be here," he directs at you.

before manon could make another quip, your hands curl around her wrist, dragging her elsewhere. a thin line presses onto your lips, as your hands move to the girl's shoulders, trying to push her gently.

"you're no fun when you're tense, y'know that?" a low chuckle escapes her breath, and god, you could feel your knees buck at her sardonic comment.

"maybe this whole thing could be solved between that new friend of yours and i if we just sat down, had a little heart-to-heart; he could tell me his issues, and i'll tell him mine," she giggles before continuing:

"i promise i'll speak slowly."

"manon!" you hoarsely exclaim her name, as you lament at her taunting comments. with your back plastered against the cold, marble wall, manon practically cages you in.

"the fuck is up with you?" you mutter, disdain painting your features, as you watch manon's arms cross against her chest, glaring at you.

"i wonder what's up, especially when you're so clearly flirting that random guy," her lips press into a thin line, trying to sound casual, but you catch the prominent edge in her voice.

you rub your temples, "i'm not dealing with your shit right now; this isn't the place nor time for this, manon," and even then, your tone was gentle, her name rolling off your tongue smoothly.

"i- i mean, i don't get you. you tell me you wanna be mine, then ditch me right after, and it just leaves me there, fuckin' waiting for you. even the members can tell," you sigh, all in one breath, as your cheeks flare, "this- this was stupid; we shouldn't have even crossed this boundary in the first place!"

"calm down, fuck, baby," manon pauses, the nickname just slipping out of her mouth almost instinctively. she tries to lean closer to you, only to be held at an arms' length due to your hands pressed against her chest, moving her away.

you cross your arms against your chest, heat curling at your cheeks, "so, talk."

"i didn't mean for things to be like this, okay? i like you—more than anybody else. please, y/n," she practically pleas, her hands interlocking with yours instinctively. her nails hover over your hands, sending chains of shivers down your spine.

"how can i even believe you?" you snicker, eyes glazing over her expression and the very obvious hint of hurt on her face, your words bruising her ego.

her hands pull on your collar before you could register what was happening, "it's only you; i kept us as friends because i was afraid—afraid of the trouble we could be in." and by then, manon couldn't help but chastise herself for being so stupid when handling the situation, feeling her complacency crumble.

"manon—" it was absurd how easy it was for the ghanaian girl to make your breath hitch and your head spin, especially with the sincerity laced in her words that made you love struck. with your gaze fixating on her lips, your hands hastily move to the back of her neck, your lips capturing hers.

the girl practically leaves you breathless, as you pull away, her breath hitting against your lips, "been wantin' to do this since forever," her words almost desperate-sounding.

"i don't wanna be just whatever we are—girlfriends only," you lay out flatly, your hands resting on manon's shoulders, as you slightly tilt your head.

"so, will you be mine?" a chuckle escapes her breath, a hint of her previous teasing demeanor returning, as she buries her head against the nook of your neck, sighing heavenly.

but you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody)

baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

taglist. ୨ৎ @lararajjj @kisshae @sed7ction

@jellaaa @yeetaberry127 @angelixstorm

[nhlclover]

𝐖𝐇𝐘 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

summary: you and will struggle with unspoken feelings for each other, navigating confusion, flirtation, and fear of ruining your friendship

warnings: somewhat based on 'why' by shawn mendes, uncommunicated feelings, angst a bit, takes place while will is still at bc, will & reader being dumb teens, happy ending!

word count: 2.28k

Friends milled around the living room, laughter filling the space, but Will's eyes constantly flickered toward you. You were curled up on the couch, your laughter echoing in the background as you laughed at something that Jacob said. The sight of you made his chest tighten like it always did.

Will leaned back against the wall, his fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as his gaze kept drifting back to you. It was like some invisible force always pulled his attention in your direction. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed, the subtle way you tilted your head when you listened intently, and that playful, teasing smile you wore so easily—it all hit him harder than he ever expected.

However, you made it so confusing for Will. Some days, you’d flirt with him relentlessly, drawing him in with sly comments and the way you’d casually touch his arm or laugh at his jokes. Other days, you acted completely indifferent, like he was just another guy in the room and saying ‘hi’ like you had just met him. It drove him crazy. He'd tried dating other girls, but none of them made his heart race like you did.

You weren’t like anyone he’d met before. There was an effortless ease about you, a confidence that threw him off-balance in the best way. You challenged him, made him laugh when he didn’t even realize he needed it, and lately, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to close the distance between you two.

Jacob said something else that made you throw your head back in laughter, and Will felt the familiar pang in his chest. This wasn’t just a surface-level attraction; it was deeper and more complicated than that. Whenever he was around you, the world felt a little lighter, like the weight he’d been carrying for months started to lift without him even noticing. His chest tightened again as he caught your eye across the room. For a split second, your gaze locked onto his, and the corners of your lips curved up in that teasing, knowing way you always had.

Will’s breath hitched. He knew that look. It was the same one that had his heart racing the first time you met, the same one that made him wonder if maybe—just maybe—there was something there. Something more than the easy friendship you shared. The air between you seemed heavy with unspoken possibilities, Will’s pulse quickening. But before he could even think about making a move, you turned away, continuing her conversation with Jacob like nothing had happened.

“You guys should just date already, y’know?” Gabe said, pulling Will’s attention back to the people around him that he had tuned out.

Will’s eyes flicked back and forth a couple times between Gabe and you, chuckling lightly. “Nah… I’m still not ready for anything serious.”

Will stiffened as his words came out, knowing it was a lie. He didn’t quite know why he couldn’t just admit that you’re all he wants.

“When do you think Will is gonna make a move on you?” Jacob said, catching you off guard.

You blinked at him, eyes flicking briefly to the blond who was talking to Gabe. “What are you talking about?”

“You guys flirt with each other like crazy and don’t think I haven’t noticed all the little looks you’ve been giving each other… it’s making me want to throw up.” Jacob said, sipping from his beer.

You chuckled, a little flustered by Jacob’s observation, but quickly masked it with a playful roll of your eyes. “We do not flirt that much. He’s just… Will.”

Jacob snorted a laugh, clearly unconvinced. “It’s obvious, you know? Everyone sees it. You two have this… thing. It's like you're both waiting for the other to make the first move."

You glanced over at Will again, the way he was laughing at something Gabe said, how his hand dragged through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. A familiar warmth spread through your chest, the same one that made you second-guess your every interaction with him. Sure, there was chemistry—undeniable, sometimes electric—but you’d kept it at arm’s length.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said in a low voice, trying to shrug it off, but Jacob wasn’t having it.

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Oh, come on. You’re not fooling anyone. Look at the way you’re staring at him right now.”

You once again pulled your eyes off Will, laughing it off, but in reality, your heart was racing. Although you didn’t want to admit it, what Jacob was saying was true. Will had gotten under your skin in a way no one else had. The two of you had always had this unspoken connection, this easy banter that somehow made everything feel lighter, yet you’d never crossed that line. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was fear, or maybe you were waiting for him to make the first move, unsure of how deep his feelings really ran.

“Okay, fine,” you finally sighed, unable to completely deny it anymore. “But… I don’t even know if he’s serious. One minute, he’s all charming and sweet, and the next, he acts like we’re just buddies. He’s so confusing.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Maybe you’re the one confusing him. You flirt, then pull away. That’s gotta mess with his head.”

You blinked, suddenly realizing that maybe Jacob was right. It wasn’t just Will being inconsistent—it was you too. Every time things started to feel real, you’d instinctively pull back, unsure if you were ready to risk turning your friendship into something more. The thought of losing him if things went wrong scared you more than you liked to admit.

Across the room, Will was watching you again. His smile had faded slightly as if sensing the shift in your mood, and for a moment, his gaze softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. There was something there. You could feel it.

“Alright,” Jacob said, standing up with a stretch. “I’m just saying, you both clearly like each other. Someone’s gotta make a move sooner or later, or you’re gonna drive each other crazy.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jacob was already moving on, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You glanced at Will once more, and this time, he didn’t look away. His eyes lingered on yours, searching, questioning.

Your breath hitched, heart racing as you felt the weight of Will’s gaze on you. It was like the air in the room had suddenly thickened, making it harder to breathe. The conversation and laughter around you started to blur, becoming nothing more than background noise. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to dismiss the rising warmth creeping up your neck and the way your stomach fluttered every time Will glanced your way.

It was all too much—the teasing from Jacob, the weight of Will’s unspoken feelings, your own confusion and hesitation. The walls seemed to close in as you tried to push it all down, but it wasn’t working. You needed air.

You stood up, slipping quietly through the crowd, making your way to the front porch. The cool evening air hit your skin, offering a slight relief from the heat building inside you. You sat down on the steps, closing your eyes as you tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling within you.

What am I doing? you thought, your chest tightening as you replayed the moments with Will in your head. Jacob’s words echoed in your mind — We both clearly like each other. Someone’s gotta make a move sooner or later.

But it wasn’t that simple. Every time you got close to Will, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something you weren’t sure you were ready for. You were terrified of the possibility that once you crossed that line, there would be no going back. What if things didn’t work out? What if you lost him, not just as a friend but as someone who had become such an important part of your life?

You took a shaky breath, rubbing your arms as the cool breeze swept across the porch. Maybe Jacob’s right, you thought, your mind racing. Maybe I’m the one messing things up. Maybe I’m the one who’s been too scared to take that step.

The door creaked open, interrupting your train of spiralling thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder to see who’d followed you out, spotting Will shutting the door behind him. Of course, it was Will.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, gentle, as if he could sense the turmoil inside you.

Will had watched you suddenly get up and walk out after talking to Jacob, a rush of worry running through him. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Will moved down to the steps, sitting beside you, your shoulders brushing as he sat. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you cursed yourself for how easily he affected you.

“I saw you slip out,” he continued, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You seemed a little… overwhelmed.”

You forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I just needed some air. It was getting a little… crowded in there.”

Will chuckled softly, but there was an underlying tension in his voice. “Yeah, I get that.” Will nodded.

He leaned back, looking up at the night sky that was speckled with bright stars. For a moment, the only sound was the faint laughter and chatter from inside, mingling with the rustle of the breeze through the trees. You both sat in that silence, but it was different from before—thicker, heavier with all the things you weren’t saying.

Normally, you’d have no problem with finding something to talk to Will about. But now, the pair of you sat in awkward silence, unsure of how to speak to each other now with realized feelings.

Will turned his head to look at you, his gaze softer now, searching. “What’s going on, really?” he asked, his voice quieter this time. “It feels like… I don’t know. Like something’s been off with us recently. And I don’t know about you, but it’s been driving me insane.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and you turned to look at him, your heart pounding. Will was still staring at the sky, his jaw clenched, as if he was trying to find the right words.

“I’ve been trying to figure this out for a while now,” he admitted, his voice a little rough. “And I keep thinking… what if this is all just in my head? What if I’m reading things wrong? Because one minute, you’re flirting with me like crazy, and the next, you’re pulling away. And I don’t know what to think anymore.”

His words hit you hard, cutting through the confusion and defenses you’d built up. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry as you realized that he was just as uncertain as you were.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to confuse you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Will finally turned to face you, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Handle what?”

You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “How I feel about you.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a second, you thought you’d said too much. Then, Will sat up, his posture straightening and brows furrowing.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, his voice steady but laced with vulnerability.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to be honest. “I… I like you, Will. I have for a while now. But I didn’t know what to do about it because I was scared. Scared of what happens if we try and it doesn’t work out. What if we ruin everything? I like having you in my life y’know?”

Will couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching out and taking your hand in his. The simple gesture sent warmth flooding through you, and for the first time in a long time, the uncertainty started to fade. “I like having you in my life too.”

You glanced down at his fingers that began to gently trace your knuckles. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you felt yourself relaxing.

“I feel the same way,” he continued. “I’ve liked you for so long, but I didn’t know if you were serious, or if it was all just… a game.”

You shook your head, your voice firm this time. “It’s not a game. I didn’t mean to mess with your head, Will. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be just your friend. I want more.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in. And in that moment, all the fear, the confusion, the hesitation melted away. “I want more too.”

Will’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin before he leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips meet yours, soft and tentative at first, then more sure, more certain. All the tension, the frustration, the confusion melts away in that moment. When you pull back, breathless, you look into his eyes, seeing the same mixture of relief and affection reflected back at you.

“Guess we’re done pretending,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Will grins, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah. No more games.”

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “… what a view, huh?”

Charlie: “Heh, yeah. You can see a whole lot of hell from this hill…”

Vaggie: “Meaning they can see the hotel now, too.”

Charlie: “I guess so.”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Nice to know they’re finally getting a glimpse of it.”

Charlie: “Oh the hotel’s been sitting up here for years-”

Vaggie: “Not the hotel.”

Charlie: “Not the hotel?”

Vaggie: “You.”

Charlie: “Me.” (sigh) “What’s Hell seen because of me, Vaggie? Extermination day coming early? Everyone panicking over how they might only have a few months left to live?”

Vaggie: “I’m telling you Heaven had their own bullshit reason for that. And it wasn't you. I'd bet my soul on it.”

Charlie: “Don't joke about that."

Vaggie: "I'm not joking sweetie."

Charlie: "I talked to them and less than an hour later they cut our time in half.”

Vaggie: “They were the ones who called for the meeting with Hell. Why do you think that was? Did they have anything else to say?”

Charlie: “No…”

Vaggie: “Then that’s all they had to say. It was already decided.”

Charlie: “They let me talk, a little bit anyway-"

Vaggie: "How little?"

Charlie: "I had a chance, the best chance we might ever get, and it should have been enough! But it wasn't. I wasn't- it still didn’t change anything. I, I couldn’t change their minds.”

Vaggie: “Oh wow, the people happy with murdering souls didn’t jump at the chance not to murder more souls. Shock. Horror.”

Charlie: “Heaven only does that because they’re scared of us! If I could have shown them there’s another way…”

Vaggie: “You will, sweetie. It’s just gonna take time.”

Charlie: “We don’t have time! We don’t even have a year anymore!”

Vaggie: “We’ll make it work.”

Charlie: “You said that earlier but Vaggie-“

Vaggie: “One guest down~” (clap clap) “That’s a pretty good start~” (clap clap)

Charlie: “Vaggie, please not a sarcastic round of my dumb clapping game from Sir Pentious’s orientation circle. Be serious?”

Vaggie: “I am being serious, babe. Cross my heart.” (clap clap…)

Charlie: “Yay….”

Vaggie: “Charlie, c’mon, Pentious is working out… better than I expected. I mean I expected the selling us out stuff, but he got over that real fast.”

Charlie: “Only because he got caught by Angel Dust real fast.”

Vaggie: “Who you didn’t let kill him. You didn’t let me kill him either. Thanks, sweetie.”

Charlie: “You wouldn’t have really anyway. Probably.”

Vaggie: “We don’t have to worry about that because you gave him a hug and a second chance instead. You guys sang a song about it.”

Charlie: “I’m always singing songs. They’re easy. At least when you have a catchy tune and nice little rhyme, there’s a chance no one will notice you have no idea what you’re doing.”

Vaggie: “I know what you’re doing.”

Charlie: “Great. I don’t.”

Vaggie: “You’re letting late night no sleep Charlie be mean to you in your own head.”

Charlie: “Our problems won’t go away just from me sleeping. We might even just get new ones-”

Vaggie: “That’s not a way to makes things work, honey. Clap clap.”

Charlie: “Vaggie…”

Vaggie: “Trust me with my manger job and come to bed- er, with me? Clap clap?”

Charlie: “You’re saying the clap claps aloud.”

Vaggie: “My hands and arms are busy hugging at the moment.”

Charlie: “You also didn’t sing it. And the rhyming meter got all messed up.”  

Vaggie: “And you’re smiling now, I can hear it.”

Charlie: “I have no idea how you do that…”

Vaggie: “Come snuggle with me and maybe I’ll whisper you my Charlie-wrangling secret.”

Charlie: (laughs) “What would I do without you, Vaggie? What did I do without you all this time?”

Vaggie: “Stayed up the whole night trying to help everyone except yourself.”

Charlie: “Ouch.”

Vaggie: “Facts, babe. That’s why I’m here though, so it all works out.”

Charlie: “This one thing really did, didn’t it?”

Vaggie: “I’ve been telling you it will.”

Charlie: “Not the hotel.”

Vaggie: “Charlie-”

Charlie: “The us.”

Vaggie: “…yeah. That too.”

Charlie: “If it’s the only thing this hotel gets right, then I don’t think… I can’t really be mad about it, honestly.”

Vaggie: “You’d be pissed if this doesn’t work out. Spitting hellfire. And I’d be angry as fuck right along with you.”

Charlie: “Partners in high blood pressure! We make a GREAT team.”

Vaggie: “We should be partners in snoring right now so shoo.”

Charlie: “Wait-”

Vaggie: “Shoo shoo, sweetie. To bed with you.”

Charlie: “I just- one last thing, Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Only ONE and then, BED.”

Charlie: “I love you.”

Vaggie: “Charlie…"

Charlie: "Yes...? Wh- Oof!"

Vaggie: "I love you too, but."

Charlie: "S-surprise tackles aren't fair!"

Vaggie: "All's fair in love and war. And if you don’t close those pretty eyes in the next two minutes I’m gonna try smothering you with all of our pillows. Lovingly.”

Charlie: “We have pillows together. That’s so…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “I’m so glad you’re down here in Hell. I’m so lucky- Oh shit- is that a weird thing to say? Oh no that’s a REALLY weird thing to say-”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Sleep.”

Charlie: “I have my eyes closed! But was that weird? I don’t want you to be in HELL, as in stuck living around all this suffering and death and- I’m just so happy you’re-”

Vaggie: “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Charlie: “Right, okay.”

Vaggie: “I want to be in hell.”

Charlie: “I mean heaven is proooobably better but thanks for saying-”

Vaggie: “If heaven ever wants me they’d have to drag me up there in chains and cage me there.”

Charlie: “Vaggie!” (laughs) “You know they’d never, they’re angels!”

Vaggie: “Murderers.”

Charlie: “That’s different-”

Vaggie: “Don’t you dare get me riled up about those deranged assholes when we’re trying to sleep, babe. I’ll need that boost of adrenaline just to wake up in the morning.”

Charlie: “Well no one’s taking you anywhere anyway, angels or otherwise. I’m keeping you right here.”

Vaggie: “Good.”

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: “…can I keep you for always, Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Mmf... bold of you to think anything could pry me off you...”

Charlie: “You do give really good hugs.”

Vaggie: (groans) “Know what else would be good right now?”

Charlie: “Sleep?”

Vaggie: “SLEEP.”

Charlie: “Okay~”

[minzart]

Blazing eyes

Maleficent x Reader(GN) x Hades . ROR-VKs & You

“professor-” he slams the door close, leaving you alone… you naturally louch yourself to the door and try to pry it open, sadly it won't budge “cursed old fucking man -OPEN! ABRACADABRA! PRESTO! BIBIDBOBIDIBO! COMONNNNNN BITCH-”

“poor thing has lost it” Hook whispers.

“we haven't tried bitch as a pass wold tho” Morgie added in “didn't work, but it would have been so funny if it did”

“OPEN SESSAME!”

“alright alright alright” Uliana gets up from her seat “calm down, we don't bite”

“much” Hades adds and seconds later Maleficent hits his head firmly.

Or... how you got recruited as a new VK and the drama that comes with being friends (and for some more) of the young villains

In a world of princesses, princes, knights, evil fairies and gods you were neither, perhaps one could say you were even less, a commoner, a plebeian with the most average sprinkle of magic yet to set foot in Merlin Academy again. Never a stand out and when your voice was heard it was almost as if the room could swallow it whole for how little it mattered in the grand scheme of things.

What would you be when you graduated? A tug? A squire? Perhaps if lucky an advisor or even a right hand confidant of a big name hero or villain. Maybe just a normal baker, who's to say, after all, the unremarkable have their own gift, destiny, profecies and duty wasn't yours to claim after all, so your life is yours and yours alone to mold, change, waste, thrive and live.

But oh that doesn't mean you can't impact lives, no, rather the opposite, you can be the last straw or the first domino that will never see the finish line but will be remembered as fondly and bitterly as the eyes that saw you last.

And our story starts not by your eyes, but by hers, a young fary sits bored out of her mind in a perfect, dreadful, evening at detention with the fools she calls… allies…. Yes, that felt… correct enough, and with the infant God she could only denominated as a passing interest at best, a boyfriend at worst.

Morgie, being the little snake that he is, can't keep still and out of the woods for long before he starts budging the magical reinforced windows, she won't blame him, after all she herself did the same thing some months ago and now the windows have a reflective spell to “keep students safe”, as if they didn't threw out weaklings out of those even before her… “sneeze incident”, as if she could even make mistakes, that was a purposeful fire breaking breath right into the window's direction and not because Uliana's cologne was too strong that day, absolutely preposterous of principal Merlin to spread that ridiculous rumor about her, she had to curse twice the students to shut their giggles that week all because of that pompous old man.

James had given up cheering for Morgie and now laid back, boots staining the desk shining his golden rook and by his pout being extremely disappointed in his eyeliner not being as sharp as it was 20 minutes ago.

“Uliana~” he called, a melodic tune echoing in the almost empty classroom “dear, scariest witch of the sea, seafoam of my dreams”

“call me that one more time and I'll give your other hand to tictoc as a gift asshole” the leader of this little band of mischief smirked, pointing her little switchblade at him, she sat at the teacher's desk, marking one more tally to their monthly visit and, before being interrupted, curiously checking to see if new marks were made by new potential allies “what do you want?”

“do you have that miraculous eyeliner in you again? I think I missed a spot” the young sea witch rolls her eyes in amusement and one single tentacle leaves her back, the black tube almost reaching Hook's good hand, then it doubled back and threw it in his bad hand's direction, the boy caugh it without much fuss and dangled it in her direction, wiggling his eyebrows in victory.

“much thanks beauty”

“your parents should have named you Narcissus”

“and you should try being a pitcher to this years baseball team”

“you would be too good for them tho” the young God spoke from behind the black fary, playfully passing the same blue flame around his fingers “I saw Jame's fumble a bit this time”

“I didn't fumble anything!”

“yes you did”

“did not”

“did too”

“did-”

The door of the class is slammed open by what Maleficent can smell is the dire's magic, his voice getting closer and closer, Uliana decides to move to the closest chair, not interested in prolonging the tedious lesson with an extra 15 minutes of more lecture.

“I'm again so thankful you could come dear” Merlin's voice echoed inside “it's so hard to find generous students like yourself, always ready to help the ones with the most difficulty”

All teens roll their eyes and look at each other's direction just to confirm that they weren't just hallucinating the most basic and fakest sweet talk to ever exist, and by all means they did experience each “baby's first manipulation” attempt, and they were not as fake sounding as his.

“you are too kind professor” the nervous little laugh gave away whoever they were wasn't as ingenious as half this school seemed to be ”I did say i wanted to try everything once at least in my years resolution papers, and I mean it”

“such admirable dedication to academics I sure hope you pass a little bit of that for this… study… group” the hesitation in Marlin's voice made Morgie snort and fall to the ground, wich made Hook tremble and poke his own eye, which prompted him to swing his hook in ager back, ready to curse the son of Morgana, but his hook went flying off its place hitting Hades’ foot, making the God scream in pain, losing control of the little flame that hit the teacher's desk making if catch fire so bright it flames so wild that a stray one reaches Uliana's pants.

It is in that moment that you and professor Merlin walk in the class, the VKs growling and cursing at each other in the middle of chaos. The professor calmly puts the fire out, as does Uliana, Hook grabs his hook back, Morgie scrambles to go back to his seat, Hades takes a deep breath, hair turning back to it's blue hue and Maleficent holds the biggest ugly laugh she can fell boiling from the deeps of her core.

Your eyes travel slowly through the most infamous trouble makers of this school, from Uliana's defiance, to Hook's flirtatious, Morgie's mischievous, Hades’ unimpressed and Maleficent's cold stare. Taking a deep breath and clenching your bag you turn 180 degrees and start marching out of class, professor Merlin was not so happy with your attitude since he decided to grab your shoulders firmly and smoothly turn you back around.

“today class, a very generous classmate offered to help me supervise you all” Merlin smiles “which is just so great because I'm need for a very important meeting and am already-”

And in that moment you made the biggest mistake you could have made that day, you defied the authority figure right in front of the punks wannabes of Merlin Academy “absolutely not” you dance around his grasp and just didn't bolt out right in that instance because the old man was blocking your path.

“now now” your name falls from his lips as if he's talking to a child “I know you have the good it takes to help those unfortunate individuals”

“I don't have shit!” you could feel all eyes turning to you, the class has your attention.

“language child!”

“I could teach math and potions and curses and counter curses to anyone, but being responsible for a whole class that will harass me to death if I don't let them out was not in our agreement sir“ you try to dance around the sorcerer again.

“watch your tone, those are very heavy accusations”

“yes we would never do something like that” Uliana puts more log to this blazing circus as Morgie tries to hide better the straw and paper balls he just finished doing in broad daylight for all to see.

Merlin cleans his throat, bringing attention back to him as he side eyes the girl “as I was saying, it will only be for some minutes! I'll be back as soon as possible” the headmaster starts to get out of the door still facing the class “I'm sure you can handle them”

“professor-” he slams the door close, leaving you alone… you naturally louch yourself to the door and try to pry it open, sadly it won't budge “cursed old fucking man -OPEN! ABRACADABRA! PRESTO! BIBIDBOBIDIBO! COMONNNNNN BITCH-”

“poor thing has lost it” Hook whispers.

“we haven't tried bitch as a pass wold tho” Morgie added in “didn't work, but it would have been so funny if it did”

“OPEN SESSAME!”

“alright alright alright” Uliana gets up from her seat “calm down, we don't bite”

“much” Hades adds and seconds later Maleficent hits his head firmly.

“we can be civil see” she shows her gang, all… sitting in various degrees of proper but sitting still nonetheless “now what's you name? I didn't catch it seeing some so…”

She looks you up and down, judging from you clothes to your hair to your posture, her month forms a thin line as she thinks in how to describe you ”comum, sticking it to that old man was kinda impressive”

You rest your head in the door, a defeated sigh leaves your lips with your name in it, Uliana tests it a few times and sits in the closest table “you don't happen to have famous parents do you?”

“take a guess” you mumble, choosing to sit down and accept your fate.

“that explains why I don't remember seeing you around here”

“we are in the same classes…”

“I skip those, anyways, so the headmaster is in a meeting? Do you know what class it’s happening in? ”

“why would I know?”

“You two just seemed so close y'know” You roll your eyes, a headache already forming inside your head.

“he got my name wrong but sure whatever makes my life easier, did any of you try breaking the windows?”

“Morgie dear was just about to start biting them” an offended “hey” can be heard in the background as the boy momentarily stops gossiping with his friend.

“do you know if it's a spell? A charm? A ward? We need to get going and I think you would be happy with us gonne too”

“it could be a potion for all that i know”

“you are quite useless aren't you?” her eyes lock with yours, daring you to fight back… you double down.

“you have no idea” you raise your chin and summon your biggest smile “a snail is more useful than I!”

You immediately let your facade down, head resting between your closed arms “just leave me be and continue doing whatever it is that you do”

The girl grins in amusement “aren't you spunky, color me impressed” she gets out of your table and lowers herself to your eye level “I see some potential, we could be friends, what do you say?”

“...” for a moment, the young sea witch thinks “hook, line, and sinker” but her expectations are shattered as you point behind her and says “your rescue has arrived”

Turning around she sees her little group of misfits, the ones that were still out there one stacked on top of the other, curse book in hand, they wave excitedly to her and signal for all to move out of the way.

Hades immediately gets up pulling Maleficent with him, and a blast breaks the glass “it wasn't supposed to shatter it!” The caster panics, making their little tower lose balance and fall, hopefully they weren't hurt too badly.

Uliana sighs annoyed, but moves to the window anyway “out we go then! Don't think I forgot about you, I'll be keeping a close eye, and if you change your mind, you can find us it's not that hard” she looks at you as her four tentacles graciously take her down and out of detention.

Hook winks at your direction and jumps out “pleasure meeting you sweet, sorry we couldn't talk longer schemes to make, pranks to pull you know the drill”

“bye!” Morgie waves at you as he also jumps out.

Hades moves to leave, a half wave at your direction as he waits for the horned fae take his hand, Maleficent looks at you up and down, he eyes lock with yours, they glow a neon green and you feel as there are eyes everywhere “see you around”

At least it's only you, the shattered window and deep feeling of dread creeping in your back.

[moonchild9350]

Sign the Dotted Line (Chapter Six)

Summary: You have a special opportunity to travel with the boys, making it a mini vacation while you're at it. This makes it the perfect opportunity to turn over a new leaf with Minho, or so you hope.

Pairing: idol Minho x fab reader

Genre: angst, fluff (for 2 seconds), smut- 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: dry humping, p in v penetration, multiple creampies (wrap it up), slapping. I think that's it.

Notes: Y'all we are nearing the end, with this being the second to last chapter of this mini series! It is kinda bittersweet haha. Also yall toxic relationships are bad don’t be like the reader in this story. I felt like I should say that. Anyways, this is lightly edited, as I was exhausted, so please excuse any typos.

I hope you like this chapter! If so consider a reblog, comment, or like. My dms are open as well! ♡

New chapters posted on Saturdays at 1pm CST!

Series Summary: You are living an ordinary life until one day you come across a notice from your favorite band Stray Kids, that the company is looking for a girlfriend for one of its members Lee Minho. Thinking you have nothing else to lose, you apply. This one action causes your life to change forever.

Series Masterlist

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

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“So y/n,” Chan said, “how are you holding up?”

Chan searched your face, looking for any sign of discomfort. You started to relax at his reaction, always having a soft spot for the man.

“I’m fine Chan.” You said.

Chan looked skeptical, not believing your response. You chuckled at the expression on his face.

“Chan I’m fine. I promise,” you repeated with a chuckle.

Chan seemed to accept your answer the second time around.

“Ok good. I know things have not been ideal and tough recently…well since you arrived.”

That’s an understatement you thought. Things have definitely not been ok since you arrived.

Chan shifted in his seat, it was almost like he was nervous which was odd for the leader.

“Come on Chan, spit it out,” you chuckled.

He gave you a grin, “ok ok you got me y/n. I wanted to explain why minho is…the way he is.”

At this, you straightened up, your full attention on the man in front of you. You’d be lying to yourself if you weren’t interested in what he had to say, anything helping to get a glimpse into Minho’s mind.

“Minho is…stubborn. He not in tune with his emotions most of the time, surprising them until he does something rash.” Chan stopped as if he were thinking.

“He’s also possessive, and I don’t think he likes when we’re overly friendly with you.” Chan said, running his hands through his hair.

“I hope he’ll talk to you soon. Maybe actually explain himself better than I am now. We just don’t want you to leave y/n.”

You listened to Chan’s explanation. It made sense, every bit of what he was saying. Minho did seem possessive, you could tell as he was giving you the best fuck of your life. Was he acting out because of that?

“Thanks for explaining Chan, I appreciate it. I’m not leaving though. The manager refused to terminate my contract,” you nervously chuckled as you remembered that conversation.

“Oh? I figured as much.” Chan said. Well we’re happy you’ll be staying. I’m sure minho will be happy too even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

Chan gave you a warm smile. “Well now that’s done shall we go back? It’s almost time for the meeting.”

You nodded getting up and following Chan out the door. That conversation was actually helpful, giving you an insight into Minho’s mind. You hoped you both could talk at some point.

You both made your way back to the practice room, slipping inside the room and making your way to the couches. Felix gave you a huge smile, making room for you on the couch. You couldn’t help but smile back at Mr. Sunshine himself and plopped down next to him.

Everyone was chatting, and there was the occasional scream, the chaos a familiar and comfortable sight at this point. The door opened and Harin and Seoyun walked in, making their way to their boyfriends. You kept looking over at Minho, who was lost in conversation with Jisung. He looked okay, didn’t seemed affected by the turn of events a few days before. However, you knew looks can be deceiving.

A short while later, the door opened, the manager walking into the room. Everyone quieted down, looking at her expectedly, giving her their undivided attention. She pulled up a stool and sat down before beginning the meeting. She went over logistics, taking about the upcoming comeback, rehearsal schedules and other minor things. At the end of the meeting she mentioned one other thing, stating that the boys would be going to Japan for a fan event. The girls could come if they wanted as there would be part of the trip where the members could sight see.

Harin and Seoyun clapped their hands, excitement on their faces. They were definitely going to go. You weren’t sure if you should go, you’d definitely have to think on it. The meeting wrapped up, everyone going their separate ways. You got up, getting ready to go when you were stopped by Jisung.

“Where are you going? Stay with us! We’re going to grab something to eat.”

You looked at the boy in front of you, hope in his eyes. You couldn’t say no, not to this face. You shook your head yes, as he smiled at your answer. You sat back down next to Felix who immediately started chatting with you. Your mood improved as the conversation went on.

“Y/n, please tell me you’re coming to Japan with us,” Felix said.

“I…I don’t know Felix. I’m not sure I’d be…welcome.”

Felix looked shocked, his eyes growing wide. “Why wouldn’t you be? We love you!”

“Thanks Lixie. But not everyone loves me,” you said as you hung your head. You started picking at your nails as the blonde stared at you. Recognition dawned on his face.

“Y/n, you know he would actually like you to be there. You don’t have to tiptoe around us just because of an argument with Mr. Stubborn.”

You giggled at the nickname Felix gave Minho, a smile breaking out on his face at the sight.

“Ok, ok Lix. I’ll go okay,” you laughed.

“Perfect! We’ll have so much fun sight seeing on our off days!”

You had no doubt about it. With this group you’d be surprised if you all didn’t get kicked out because of the chaos. You couldn’t hide, not anymore. You had to enjoy the moments as they came and this was a perfect opportunity to do. You weren’t going to let “Mr. Stubborn” as Felix called him get in your way.

Weeks passed and the day came for the group to head to Japan. You couldn’t lie, you were excited to go, as you’ve never been there before. You decided to meet with the girls before and then go to the airport together, avoiding the fans and paparazzi that was going to be there to see the boys. You were happy about this, as you still hadn’t gotten use to the nonstop flashing of lights from the cameras.

All three of you left the dorms, and made your way to the company car. You slid in next to Seoyun, settling in for the ride. You looked out the window, watching the scenery go by, many cars speeding by. It didn’t take long to get to the airport. The boys had already made it as you saw groups of fans and paparazzi following a group of men as they headed into the airpot. Grabbing your bag, you braced yourself, hoping most of the people would stick to following the boys.

The car pulled to the curb, and Harin opened the door to get out as she was closer. There were a few groups of people who turned around and saw you three get out the car, excitement on their faces once they recognized who you guys were. As you made your way to the door, you bent your head, shielding your eyes from the flashes of light from cameras.

You thought the flashes would end once you got inside, but it continued, a constant light blinding you as you made your way to the security checkpoint. You lifted your head to look ahead, noticing the boys in front of you. You had hope and were thankful that they were close. Getting through security was a slow process, with you three girls standing in the back most of the time until it was your turn. Thankfully, you didn’t have much you had to take out of your bag, making it easy to go through the detectors without issue.

Once you, Harin, and Seoyun made it through, you breathed a sigh of relief, the hoardes of people not allowed past security. You jogged to catch up to the boys, Jisung noticing you right away.

“Y/n! Hi! I’m so happy you’re here!” He said giving you a big, gummy smile.

“Hi Ji,” you said. You couldn’t help but smile back, the crowds of people forgotten.

“We’re going to grab a bite to eat while we wait to board, wanna come?”

You shook your head, noticing the other girls had made their way to their boyfriends. You could go for some food. You followed Jisung over to where Felix and Jeongin were standing, the younger boys giving you a wave and smile as you approached. You couldn’t help but look around, your eyes looking for Minho. He was standing with Chan and Harin, looking hot as always in a simple white tee and sweatpants. You quickly looked away, not wanting anyone to catch you staring.

“Alright, ready?” Felix asked.

You all nodded and began walking over to a kiosk selling ramen. After ordering, you made your way to the register ready to pay, only to have your hand slapped away, preventing you from hading your card to the cashier.

“Na uh y/n, I’ll pay ok?” Jisung said, giving you a stern look.

You could tell he was not going to budge, so you surrendered, stepping aside to let the man pay. He grinned as you moved, handing his card over to pay. You grabbed your bowl and made your way to a table with the others. The food looked amazing, as you were starving, not having ate anything since last night. You groaned with the first bite, the flavor heavenly on your tongue.

You passed the time until take off with the boys, as they laughed and joked around. Jisung started to talk about places he wanted to go on the off days, and foods he wanted to try. You listened in awe, amazed that they knew so many neat spots. Of course, you remembered they have been to Japan many times, and know their way around a little.

Looking at your watch, you mentioned you all should probably head back to the gate, boarding would take place soon. They agreed, grabbing their trash to dump on the way back. Felix fell in stride with you as you all walked back to the gate.

“Sit with me?” He asked, hope in his eyes.

You nodded yes, more than happy to sit with the sunshine boy. Felix grinned, happy you agreed. Once you all made it to the gate, boarding began, as you all filed onto the plane one by one. You settled in your seat, Felix sitting next to you. He chatted with you while you all waited to take off, the others joking around with you. The boys snapped pictures to send to fans, the plane filing with laughter. You smiled along, their happiness contagious.

Before long, it was time to leave, the plane making its way down the runway and up into the air. You settled into your seat, closing your eyes for a nap. You would need every ounce of sleep you could get, as you’re sure the agenda would be packed with activities. You drifted off, the sound of the engine as your background noise, hoping to sleep soundly until you landed.

You were awoken by being jostled in your seat, your eyes opening in a panic, looking around for the cause of the disturbance. Felix placed his hand on your lap calming you, letting you know the plane just landed. You gave him a smile, straightening up in your seat and smoothing your hair down. You all got off the plane, making your way to the cars waiting to take you to the hotel. You were about to get in the car with Felix, Jisung, Changbin, and Hyunjin but you felt a hand on your back guiding you away from the car.

“The boys have schedule today, they’ll be back later,” Harin said guiding you to a separate car.

You looked up seeing Seoyun get into a separate car. You slid in behind her, Harin following suite. The driver was taking you three to the hotel, as you were not needed for any schedule activities today. You couldn’t wait to get to your room, shower, and take a nap, exhaustion kicking in from the flight. Looking out the window, you took in the sights. There were people everywhere, walking on the sidewalks, on bikes, even the traffic was slow.

Not too much longer passed before the driver pulled up to the hotel. He helped you all with your bags, before bowing and getting back into the car. A staff member was already in the lobby, waiting for your arrival. They handed each one of you your room keys and dismissed you. Taking the keys, you grabbed your suite case and followed the others, making your way to the elevators.

Once on the assigned floor, you said your goodbyes and parted ways. You keyed yourself in, and stepped through the threshold, closing the door behind you. Tossing your shoes off, you took in your surroundings. There was a nice king size bed in the center of the room, a couch, and mini kitchenette. You walked to the window, pulling back the curtains to peak outside. Your room was facing the street, giving you a view of the busy road below, people making their way quickly to their destinations.

You closed the curtains once more and opened your suitcase, pulling out everything you needed for a shower. You decided to sleep in one of your sleep shirts, as the room was a little too warm for comfort. Stepping into the large bathroom, you turned the shower on, quickly discarded your clothes and got in. The water felt great on your skin, washing away the impurities from travel and the sweat that you are sure accumulated on you since your arrival. Once done, you turned the water off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your body. It didn’t take you long to get dress, tossing on a pair of panties and slipping the shirt over your head. You put your hair up into a messy bun and padded your way to the large bed.

Pulling back the covers, you slid in, sighing as your back hit the soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven, surrounded by the fluffy covers. You felt your eyes droop before they shut for good as you succumb to sleep. You were dreaming, you knew you were dreaming because Minho was there, looking good in all his glory. He kept trying to reach out to you, but you would turn away, not wanting to entertain him. The process went on and on until you locked yourself in a room, locking the door to get away from him. It seemed to work until you heard a knock on the door, which you ignored. However, the knock kept coming, eventually becoming a pounding on the door. But wait, why would the sound get louder? Unless…

Your eyes flew open, as you looked around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You startled as another knock came to your door. This must have been what you had heard in your dream. Stretching your limbs, you got out of bed, padding your way to the door. You stood on your tiptoes to peek through the peep hole to see who it was. There stood Minho, at your door, his hands tucked in his pockets.

You were shocked, not expecting to see him, especially as you just dreamed of avoiding him. He was about to knock again when you pulled open the door, his hand paused midair. You both stood there staring at each other, neither knowing what to say. You decided to let him talk since he was the one to show up at your door. You watched as Minho’s eyes scanned your body, his eyes lingering on your bare legs. You looked down, your face heating up, realizing you were only in your sleep shirt.

You looked up once more, meeting Minho’s eyes once more. He took a deep breath before saying, “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

You considered telling him no. You wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed and go back to sleep. However, the rational side of your brain knew you should let him in. You both really needed to talk, especially after you had that discussion with Chan.

You nodded your head and stepped aside, allowing him to cross the threshold. You closed the door and made your way into your room, signaling for Minho to sit on the couch. He walked over before sinking down, stretching his legs in front of him. You opted to sit on the edge of the bed, your legs dangling. You sat in silence as you waited for Minho to say something.

He seemed nervous, as he kept wringing his hands, as he crossed and uncrossed his legs. You had never seen him so nervous, as he always seemed confident in his words and actions. You could tell he was struggling internally with himself, probably about whether or not he should go through with this. In the end, he must have decided to just get it over with as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat before saying once more, “Y/n, I want to say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted over the last few days, hell, for since we met.”

“I…” he looked down at his hands, as he shook his leg. He swallowed, before looking up again. “I do like you y/n, more than you know. I um…I love you. I guess I didn’t know how to handle my feelings and express them. Yeah at first I was pissed, but it wasn’t you. I was mad at the company and well you happened to be here and I took it out on you.”

You listened as he rambled on, expecting every word after talking with Chan. It was nice to hear it from him, it was a start to mending your relationship.

“I am a little possessive, I don’t like to see you with other men, even if it’s the members. It does make me irritated I guess. I’ve talked with the others about it and they think I’m dumb of course, but I just want you to myself.”

Minho paused as he seemed to be reflecting. There was silence throughout the room as you waited for him to continue.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and it may take a while if you do decide to forgive me, but I want to apologize and hope you will consider forgiving me y/n.”

He seemed to be done, as he sat back, took a deep breath and let it out. You appreciated his words, knowing it took everything in him to come before you and apologize. You know he’s possessive, you know he’s stubborn, and you know he likes things his way. But, you also know how kind he can be, how he loves the members, how he loves his family, and yes even how he loves you.

You figured it out pretty quickly, but didn’t want to believe it, thinking no one who loves you treats you that way. Of course your theory was confirmed after speaking with Chan and now after listening to Minho. Thing is you had already forgiven him, but didn’t want to move things too quickly, wanting him to step up and take responsibility for his actions. You were willing to push past this, as you still had to abide by the contract.

You let him sit there and struggle, watching as he looked everywhere around the room except at you. You smirked to yourself at his reactions, as the boy was stressed, probably worried that you’d reject his apology. After a few more moments however, you decided to respond, put the poor boy out of his misery.

“Thank you,” you said, his head snapping up at your words. “All I wanted was an explanation, an apology. You’ve treated me like shit this last year. I adored you before signing this contract, thought you were an amazing person. Of course that perspective changed once I actually got to know you. You’re stubborn, and yes possessive, you like to do things your way, but I also know you’re a good person.”

You stopped, as you shifted on the bed. “I guess I forgive you Minho cause I guess I kind of love you too. We can start anew.”

Minho looked at you, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He couldn’t believe your words. You forgave him, just like that. He silently thanked his lucky stars. He shook his head, a smile starting to form on his face. You got up and walked over, quickly closing the gap. You grasped his face between your hands and sealed the promise of a new relationship with a kiss, you lips molding with his.

Just like you remembered, his lips were soft, easily moving along with yours. Minho gripped your hips and brought you closer, as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You relaxed your stance as you kissed the man in front of you feeling like you were where you should be.

As Minho kissed you, he pulled you into his lap, having you straddle him. The kiss grew more heated as he ducked and nipped at your lip, causing you to let out a moan. You rolled your hips along his covered cock, sighing out at the pleasure you felt. Minho gripped your hips and smoothed his fingers over your skin before snaking his hands down to your ass.

He gave the flesh a squeeze before guiding your hips back and forth, as his hardened cock brushed against your core, catching your clit just right. You whimpered at the feeling, as you wrapped your arms him and buried your face against the crook of his neck. You felt him shudder beneath you as your breath fanned against him, his as he gripped your hips harder.

With a growl deep in his chest, Minho pulled you away, picking you up and placing you down on the couch on all fours. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your legs spread so he could see your glistening pussy. You turned your head to look at Minho as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out. He dragged the tip through your folds, teasing your clit over and over. It felt good and you couldn’t wait for him to breach your walls, filling you up over and over again.

“Minho, please,” you whined, arching your back more to present to him.

“Please what baby?” Minho asked, still sliding his cock through your lips, coating the tip in your arousal.

“Give me you cock, need you cock Minho.” You replied, desperation in your voice.

Minho chuckled before slamming into you, the sudden stretch causing you to yell out. He picked up a brutal pace, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. You listened as Minho let out a loud groan, adjusting his stance in order to go deeper. The change in position cause his cock to rub your sweet spot just right, the pleasure mounting which each stroke.

You felt your high approaching, as Minho abused your pussy, his cock kissing your cervix again and again. He gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the skin before he let his hand come down, slapping the flesh, causing you to moan.

“I missed this pussy baby,” Minho said, his breathing fast, his chest raising and falling rapidly. He was close, your walls hugging his cock just right, like you were made for him. He missed you and your quirkiness and your smile. He missed listening to you talk with him, no matter the topic. He was never letting you go, he knew that for sure. He guesses this is what people mean when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

“Will you cum for me baby? Cum with me..” Minho breathed out, as he thrusted a few more times before stilling and emptying his load into you. He heard your moans, as his hot cum painted your walls, you clenching down on his member again and again. With a loud wail, he felt you cum, as you spasmed beneath him, your walls fluttering again and again.

Minho squeezed your hips before pulling out, his cum dripping onto the couch below. He pulled up his pants leaving them unzipped before lifting you up, carrying you to the bed. Placing you beneath the sheets, he pulled off his pants completely and slid in next to you, cradling you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head before saying, “I love you.”

You responded without hesitation, saying I love you back. You did love this man. You had fallen for him long ago, your heart split in two when he denied you. However, you were, in the man you love arms. You were happy he explained himself and apologized, the future looking brighter. Of course there is still a part of you wondering if he will go back on his word, just like last time. You hoped that was not the case and were willing to take the chance.

Moments passed, silence throughout the room. The only sounds you hear is the thumping of Minho’s heart as you lay on his chest. Minho gently shifted, placing you on your back, settling between your legs. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, his own gently massaging yours. The kiss grew heated, his tongue pushing into your mouth to entangle with yours.

You felt him push your leg up before gently sliding into your warm heat once more, as he set a gentle pace, slowly thrusting his hips into yours. He swallowed your moans, your breath getting faster as the pleasure deepened. Minho looked you in the eyes as he thrusted, moving his hand to grab yours and intertwine them, placing them above your head. The sensation was heightened, the pleasure building throughout your body, slowly making its way to your core. With a few more thrusts, you tipped over the edge, your back arching off the bed as your orgasm spread through you, causing your toes to curl and vision go white. You came hard, the feeling so intense, you couldn’t stop, as Minho continued to make love to you.

The sight below him was beautiful, you lost in ecstasy because of him. He took in your beautiful features, as you came, his cock twitching within you. He rocked his hips again and again, his orgasm approaching. A few more thrusts and he felt his release, once more flooding your walls.

You sighed at the feeling of his cum once more hitting your walls, as your breathing slowly returned to normal. Minho pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling out and getting up. You watched as he walked to the bathroom and heard the water running. A moment later he came out, a washcloth in his hands. He gently wiped you down, cleaning you of the sticky fluids. Once done, he tossed the towel away before sliding in next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Minho looked you in the eyes, searching them for any regret, not finding any. “I’m never leaving again,” he whispered, kissing you once more.

“Thank goodness,” you replied, a smile on your face as you snuggled closer to him. You felt in your gut you could believe him, his actions being louder than words tonight. You were more than ready to move forward with your boyfriend, and tonight would be the start of your brand new beginning with Minho. As you drifted off to sleep, you dreamed of Minho, showering him with your love and for the first time in a long time, you slept like the dead, comforted within the arms of the man you love.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @palindrome969 @armystay89 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @artemisdoe @emily21morgan @athforskz @jazziwritesthings @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @jisunglyricist @tsunderelino @hyuneyeon @sillyhal @queenmea604 @bloominhos @partyparty-yah

[swaps55]

Twin Souls of the Same Star

Funny, Kaidan thinks as they lie side by side, Shepard’s bare skin illuminated by the fishtank. They’d changed their lives just a few hours ago, assuming Joker actually filled out and filed the paperwork to the hanar and Alliance’s satisfaction.

And yet…everything feels exactly the same.

Shepard strokes Kaidan’s ring figure, then pinches it at the knuckle and examines it closely. “Guess I need to put a ring on this, lest anyone doubt that you are now bound to me by official legal documents. Er, at least as far as hanar law goes. Do we know how binding that little ceremony actually was?”

“Are you questioning the legitimacy of Joker’s ordination within the Enkindler Souls of Stars?” Kaidan asks, tugging his ankle free of the twisted sheet and draping it over Shepard’s leg. “Or are you asking about the return policy?”

Shepard kisses Kaidan’s knuckle and then tugs him until he straddles Shepard’s hips.

“Just try and renege and see what happens to you.”

Kaidan hides his flush behind a chuckle. Shepard pulls him in and traces the shell of Kaidan’s ear with his lips. Bastard. Not even fair to go straight for the ear.

“You’re stuck with me. I just want the entire galaxy to know.” 

No hiding the flush now. “Well, in that case. Don’t need a ring. I know your transponder code. Your baseline biometrics. Your service number. Your mnemonics.”

“Okay, so you know how to take me in a fight, sure.”

Kaidan trails his fingers lightly across Shepard’s belly, smiling in satisfaction when he yelps and nearly shoots out from underneath him.

“I know that.”

Shepard gives him a wary look. “Tickling is just a dirtier kind of warfare than bullets, in my book.”

Kaidan wiggles his fingers in tune with his eyebrows, but pins Shepard firmly in place when he attempts to flee.

“Point is,” Kaidans says between sloppy kisses against Shepard’s neck. “I’m pretty sure I can stake a pretty convincing claim to you without a trinket as proof.”

“Don’t know why I’m worrying. Pretty sure you’re the only one who would put up with me, anyway.”

Kaidan trails kisses down the line of Shepard’s shoulder. “Dunno. Have you seen how pretty you are?”

Shepard preens. “Maybe. But Liara says I’m very vexing.”

“Lucky for you, I like vexing.”

“See? Soulmates. The hanar say so. Joker’s head garment thingy looked very official.”

“If you’re really worried about it we could always hire a hanar to follow us around and tell people.”

Shepard sniggers into Kaidan’s shoulder, then adopts a solemn tone. “This one would like you to know that these two are bound soul stars in the eyes of the Enkindlers.” His eyes widen. “Oh god we cannot tell Javik.”

Kaidan barks a laugh, and Shepard grins.

“Well, we don’t have a hanar on board,” Shepard goes on. “Suppose we could just stick some tentacles on Garrus. No one will know.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“He’ll think it’s funny.”

He probably would.

Kaidan rests his head on Shepard’s chest, sighing softly as Shepard runs fingers through his hair.

“Should I have taken your name or something?” Shepard asks eventually.

Kaidan’s heart does a somersault at the thought. Not something he’s ever thought about. Not something he’s ever even cared about. But the fact Shepard has…

He swallows. Shepard continues stroking his hair and just…lets him feel it for a minute.

“You married me,” Kaidan says after a moment.

“Yeah, I remember. I was there.”

“Other people saw it.”

“Pretty sure they remember, too. Joker’s hanar impression was very memorable.”

“Wow.”

Shepard chuckles. The sound rattles under his sternum, and Kaidan lets the feel of it wash through him. “So? Should I be Sam Alenko?”

Kaidan huffs. “Well, you hate being called Sam.”

Shepard ponders that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it would be kind of weird if people started calling me Alenko, huh?”

“Yeah, that would be pretty weird. Thought’s pretty romantic, though.”

“I am so full of romantic gestures. Just you wait.”

“Mmmm,” Kaidan says with what he’s sure is a stupid grin. “I could take yours, I guess.”

Shepard makes a face. “Can you imagine you and me in the same room as my mother? No one will have any idea what the fuck to call us.”

“Okay,” Kaidan says with a laugh. “No name changes.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“Definitely.”

They drift off for a few minutes. Shepard’s hand stills, the weight of it on Kaidan’s head warm and comforting. Maybe Kaidan falls asleep. He’s not sure.

“Did you know we get tax benefits for being married?” Shepard asks, startling him awake.

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “Did you read a manual or something?”

“Well, I can’t suck at this.”

Kaidan stifles a laugh against Shepard’s chest. “You know, Williams even told me once we should get married for the tax breaks.”

“Did she? Do you think she knew?”

“Of course she did.” Kaidan hoists himself up on an elbow to look him in the eye. “Everyone did. Except you. You thought I was into Williams.”

Shepard flashes him a guilty look. “She made you laugh all the time.”

“She was funny!”

“Yeah, but she was funnier than me and I didn’t like it.”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow. “And that didn’t…raise any flags for you.”

The guilty look gets guiltier. “Does it make it any better if I say that when people mistook us for a married couple I’d think to myself, ‘there are a lot worse things than spending the rest of my life with him?’”

“Really? Really?” Kaidan gooses him again, this time with a lot less mercy. Shepard yells indignantly and twists beneath him. They tussle until Shepard manages to trap Kaidan’s back against his chest.

“In my defense.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Hang on, I’m thinking.”

Kaidan laughs. “You realize that this exact line of thinking is what got us in trouble in Vancouver.”

 “Hey, I remember kissing you in the rain in Vancouver, so I think my line of thinking is pretty great, actually.” 

“Yeah,” Kaidan says softly, gripping his hand. “This is pretty great.”

Shepard rests a chin on Kaidan’s shoulder. “You were pretty pissed at me over the Williams thing. I thought I’d really fucked up.”

Kaidan strokes his arm. The memory of Williams still sits like a bruise, but it’s less tender to the touch than it used to be. “Think I was more angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“For being so in love with you and so unable to do anything with it. About it. I don’t know. You were never going to feel the same way and I just…couldn’t even try to get over the way I felt about you.”

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one who was dense,” Shepard murmurs in his ear. “Turns out I was, in fact, very, very into you the whole time.”

Kaidan smiles into the dim room.

“You know I reached out to Beaudoin after that to get his advice?” Shepard asks.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d really fucked up, but I didn’t know why and Beaudoin, you know. Knew how to people a lot better than I do.”

“So you thought you’d fucked up your relationship with me, went to the only person we know with any reasonable insights on dating and romance, for advice, and that still didn’t trigger anything for you?”

“No.”

“You have saved the galaxy twice.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Kaidan snorts. “What did he say?”

“His message was one line and it was zero help. It said, ‘You’ll figure it out, I’ve got money on it.’ I had no fucking idea what he was talking about.”

Kaidan laughs softly into the pillow. “He and Aslany had a bet about us.”

“Wait….he knew too? Aslany knew?”

“Told you. Everyone.”

“Motherfucker.”

Kaidan tugs Shepard’s arm tighter around him, thinking of simpler days and places and times you can’t go back to. “Wish Beaudoin could have been here today.”

Shepard kisses the back of his neck. “Me too. Can you even imagine what he would have said about Joker’s ‘vestment?’”

“He would have loved us getting married by a human ordained through the hanar. And yeah, he would have fucking loved that vestment.”

“He really would have.” 

They lapse back into silence. It feels heavier this time.

Williams. Beaudoin. The Normandy. The ‘Yang. And there’s more to come. Kaidan feels it in his bones.

“We have a lot of history, don’t we?” Kaidan murmurs.

“Yeah, we do,” Shepard agrees. He wraps Kaidan up tight. “I want more. Think we made some today.”

“This one now pronounces you twin souls of the same star,” Kaidan intones.

“I like that part,” Shepard says, nuzzling his neck. “Even better than the vestments.”

Shepard has always shone brighter than any star, but Kaidan has always walked willingly and unflinchingly into that light. There’s never been another path. At least not that he wanted to take.

“Kiss me,” Kaidan says, the sudden need for it overwhelming.

Shepard rolls him over and obliges. It feels no different than it did a few hours ago: beautiful. It always has, with Shepard.

The kiss gets deeper. Shepard’s corona kindles, bright and flickering, a fire without heat that graces Kaidan’s nerves with a soft, sweet hum. Kaidan reaches into the gravity well and lights his own star, their auras blending together into one, solid glow.

We’ve always been this, Kaidan thinks as he falls headlong into Shepard’s embrace.

Now they just have the documents to prove it.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 26 In that treetop night

Chapter 26 of Moonlight

A/N- I giggled

Warning- light swearing, talks of pregnancy and blood, some violence, angst, some FLUFF, and SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 491-515

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

The day was taxing, not because there was a battle that required all the energy his body had made that day. The battle was fought and the battle was lost, so one would say the day should be laxing. Yet it’s dealing with the aftermath of such a tragic loss that seems to be more wary than any battle.

“How could they win now?” Cregan thinks to himself as he hangs his head low and mindlessly watches the cold ground beneath his feet. “How could an army of men win against three dragons without being completely wiped out?”

It was trying to come up with a strategy for that question that was wearing him out. He has so many men to think of, so many lives are in his hands. How can he lead them to a hopeful battle?

“Lord Stark!” A voice cuts in before quick and stumbling footsteps stop outside his tent, pulling Cregan out of his running mind to listen with very low curiosity—All he wants is to rest. Maybe just close his eyes, but alas… “Forgive me for interrupting, I know you said not to disturb you, but it’s urgent!” The young voice speaks rapidly and between heavy breaths. “The princess and a companion are here!”

As if a spike of energy shot his heart, he snaps his head up in disbelief whilst that exhaustion is suddenly forgotten. Can it be?

What the visitor just announced to him can be one of the Targaryen twins. They’re not titled princesses but their father is the husband of a Queen so it could have changed. But it can also be you…with your husband?

Who is the companion they announced? Did you come together? If it is really you, that is.

Even if it isn’t, he has to go out to meet them, so he gets up from his seat and swipes his sheathed sword from the ground. As he walks out he straps the sheath over his shoulder and strides out with the tall and lanky young man, hoping to see no one in particular to avoid feeling disappointed if the outcome is not to his liking

“Just over here, past the clearing,” the young man interjects. “We did not want to let them through to be safe because of the sides the people say they’re on.”

Cregan hums, finding their caution justifiable after being betrayed by two of Team Black’s dragonriders, and hearing that the third one escaped to avoid being caught. Let’s see how the caution is taken though. He knows Targaryens have similar tempers to the dragons you all are linked to so here’s hoping it’s not made into a fuss.

“Lord Stark,” the young man interjects but pauses to take a deep breath as if weighing whether to share what's in his mind or not. “You have been around dragons, are they…”

Nevertheless, the next words to come out of the young man’s mouth are drowned out by the sight of you the moment he turns a corner and faces the clearing.

He can hardly believe his eyes. You must be some conjured-up illusion made by his exhaustion.

Yet how can that be when his exhaustion no longer exists as the mere sight of you is like a spike of adrenaline to his beating heart? You cause the blood coursing through his veins to pump frantically, tuning out every sound, and blurring everything besides you. You are the sole keeper of his attention. You, bathing under the shining spots of moonlight that break through the treetops are the center of all his attention.

You don’t see him yet, but oh he sees you standing there with a displeased frown curled on your face telling him that this encounter is the opposite of what he wanted, proving your short temper. Someone else is beside you but like a full moon against a clear and starry night, he can’t keep his eyes off you, not even for a second and he doesn’t want to look at anything but you.

Even as soldiers pass by him he doesn’t keep you out of his sight. Even as a man leads a pair of horses toward him, he doesn’t bother giving it a glance to stop and be careful, he forces the man with the horses to a halting stop as he keeps walking to you as if it pained him not to be close, as if he’s tranced by you and your beauty, by you in that shiny silver and soft purple gown that makes you look all that more divine.

Oh, and once you finally roll your eyes and find him making his way to you between the busy camp, that’s a completely different set of feelings he’s completely bombarded with.

When you find him, even though his blood is racing through his veins, causing his heart to thump and thump rapidly against his chest, suddenly his entire world slows down. Everything that surrounds him ceases to exist except for you and him breaking through barriers of space to at last reach you after a terrible couple of months of being apart.

Only you and him exist in your loud and busy world. Only you and him. Him and you. After all these months it’s finally him that you see in all his mighty glory, caught under the shine of the moonlight, and for the first time in a long time there in the depths of your chest, you can feel it. You feel your heart revive and skip a beat as you lose yourself in Cregan’s grey eyes. Which is unbelievable to your grieving soul that not even Aemond could get that reaction from you, but Cregan does. Cregan brings back the light to the stars and to the moon, and he brings back the color to your once dull world.

Oh and once he’s close. Once his presence is known, your heart starts racing and your lips slowly start tugging into a smile, erasing that disbelief caught on your features whilst every muscle in your body cries for you to move toward him; while he, himself, takes a daring step toward you, but nevertheless, neither of you can give into your desires. You’re stopped, and both snapped out of your stupor as the man who stopped you addresses Cregan and your current situation.

“Lord Stark, sorry to disturb you but as you can see the Princess is here.”

Cregan still doesn’t break eye contact, he keeps his eyes laid on you and bows his head. “Princess,” he greets and then stands upright and drifts his eyes to the side to at last acknowledge your companion; a slim charming young man with his dark eyes on him.

“Forgive me, I don’t recognize you.” Cregan addresses Addam with his chin tilted slightly higher than usual. “You are…”

“This is Ser Addam Velaryon,” you interject and glance at Addam with a small smile. “Son of Lord Corlys Velaryon. Rider of Seasmoke.”

Cregan nods and then bows his head. “Ser Addam,” he greets your companion, making your smile a bit wider.

“Addam this is Lord Cregan Stark,” you present him in return. “Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

Addam briefly meets your gaze before he looks back at the tall and buff man to bow his head. “Lord Stark, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Cregan nods in response to acknowledge his comment before he looks between the two of you with confusion. “It’s an honor having you both here,” he says and lets his eyes fall on you as if speaking to you alone. “Yet I am confused as to why. We did not expect your arrival.”

You nod. “That’s why we wanted to walk in, to explain, but your knight here has not let us pass,” you hiss as you drag your gaze to the knight and pass him a glare.

“It's a surprise, we know,” Addam cuts in and steps forward to take Cregan’s attention, but the Lord spares him a short glance before he once again focuses on you as if still in disbelief about your presence—“And it’s late, but we come with good intentions,” Addam explains. “We come to join your forces and fight alongside you against the Hightower army and the three Dragonriders.”

The men across from you look at each other, sharing speechless glances before Cregan gives Addam more than a second of his attention. “We would be honored to have you join our forces, but you have to also excuse our caution,” he shares, catching you by surprise even though it really shouldn’t. You know Cregan, he cares about his people, he cares about the men fighting with him, and puts them first so, you shouldn’t be surprised that he’s being cautious. But you still are.

“You were branded a traitor by the Queen, Ser, and you,” Cregan says and turns his gaze to you, shifting where he stands before he continues. “It’s been said you were allied with the Greens.”

You immediately react by shaking your head and correcting him. “My husband. Not the Greens, my husband.”

He blinks and hums. “You can see why you were stopped, right?” He adds and looks at Addam. “Besides, what is stopping your husband from coming after you and burning down our camp out of spite?” Cregan directs at you, making you stiffen and drop your gaze.

Addam proceeds to part his lips as he sees your reaction and intends to share the news for you so you wouldn’t have to say such heavy words, but you drag in a shaky breath and with tears already forming in your eyes you share the news yourself. “You needn’t worry about Prince Aemond because he,” you pause as the words pain you to even think about. “He…he’s dead,” you say with a shaky breath. And at the sound of the news Cregan’s face falls from that tense and serious hold and he looks at you with pity. Yet before he can express his consolation you continue abruptly.

“Vhagar is gone too, along with Daemon and Caraxes, so there’s nothing you need to worry about,” you mutter and avert your gaze to wipe away the stray tears that fall down your face.

“I am sorry for your loss, Princess,” Cregan’s voice is soft and his gaze is heavy on you. “And I am sorry for the loss of Daemon, he was a legendary warrior. His loss will cost us a great deal.”

You draw in a heavy and shaky breath before you lift your head and face the men with a collected demeanor, refusing to show them any more vulnerability. “If we can talk somewhere warm we can explain ourselves,” you interject with determination. “If not, well we can gladly leave and abandon you in your time of need.” You huff, making Cregan scoff and drop his head to hide his smirk

“Alright,” he says with a huff before he picks his head up and looks at you with his soft gaze. “Come with me.”

You share a speechless but assuring gaze before feeding that previous temptation and walking to Cregan to address him like old friends.

“It’s a pleasure seeing you out here, My Lord Stark,” you share in a honey-laced voice as you start to walk around each other to avoid walking away and remain as close as you can. All while neither of the other dares to lose eye contact. “Especially after you said you couldn’t leave your home.”

Cregan’s gaze narrows slightly in a lighthearted manner and the corner of his lips twitch up. “Well, my men and my Queen needed me. My choice was made with a heavy heart but I do not regret it.

You offer him a sweet and thankful smile before you express yourself in words too. “Well, the Queen appreciates your efforts. We all do.”

Cregan holds your gaze with a burning intensity while he comes to a stop right where he started as he sees how truly ethereal you look under the moon’s soft hue.

“Thank you, my Princess, and I'm sorry again for your loss.”

You blink repeatedly as your emotions come to you and proceed to respond with an acknowledging hum before you continue down your path, catching Addam’s questioning gaze before he quickly snaps his eyes ahead to look at the path instead.

“Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, Princess,” Cregan interjects as he leads the way. “How far along are you?”

You rest your hands on your belly and sigh softly before you give him the answer. “Seven. I’m almost there.”

Cregan nods and adds nothing else on the matter, letting you fill the silence. “How’s Rickon?”

Cregan peers back and responds. “Good. Growing every day and surviving the winter.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Silence continues to befall you again and once again Addam steals a quick look between Cregan and you, making you discreetly slow down to fall beside him instead.

Once you reach the intended tent you wait for the higher-ranked commanders and knights to join you before you make your case.

“You have every reason not to trust us,” you address the group of men. “You have every reason to question our motives, but I can say that in regards to myself, my loyalty lied with my husband. Neither you here are wives, but I am and…” you pause as you know you can’t give all the reasons why you truly sided with Aemond. “My loyalty was to him. I did the things they say I did. I took my part in burning House Strong,” you admit and make the men grow stiff as if fearful you have come to do the same to them.

“It was me. I won’t hide from it,” you continue as you look around the group of old battered men looking at you with displeasure and discomfort. “I won’t feel ashamed of it either. I did it because it was the right thing to do for me, and for my husband,” you mutter and stroke the table with the pad of your fingers. “Not Team Green. Not the Usurper, but for my husband who is…now dead,” your voice trembles. “Along with his dragon and Prince Daemon and his dragon.”

You end in silence so the men can do as expected, and share shocked whispers at the sound of such an unexpected revelation.

“But my shame on the matter is not what you should be asking, neither should you be asking if I was dedicated to Team Green,” you speak over the whispers and slowly regain the men’s attention. “The question you should be asking is if I would die for them. And the answer is no,” you say confidently as you press your hands on the wooden table and lean forward to be in the center of everyone’s attention. “But I am willing to die for my mother. For my Queen, and for all of you if the need arises. My loyalty is here, with you and with her too.”

The air in the tent slowly loses some of the previous tension they were holding, and their hardened gazes ease as your sweet yet confident words ease their hearts. Yet they can’t fully come to trust you because of Addam, but that’s why you don’t leave him out of your plea.

“As for Addam,” you add to the conversation, earning his undivided attention. “You will not find anyone more loyal. You won’t find someone kinder or braver than him. The son Corlys Velaryon, my uncle, and my dearest friend.”

Cregan sits up at the sound of your words, unbeknownst to you.

“Then why did the Queen cast him as a traitor?” A man blurts, returning your attention to the group of men. “Why run if he is not guilty of what he is accused of?”

You and Addam share a glance before you look at the waiting crowd and think about your words because you can’t say the truth or it will paint your mother in a bad light, and right now these men can’t lose hope or respect, not when they have already lost so much for her cause.

“Because the Queen was being cautious. That’s why she deemed him a traitor when he isn’t,” you add as you push yourself away from the table and stand up with your shoulders straight and your eyes narrowed so they know you’re being serious. “She has to be careful now more than ever, and that’s why Addam left. What are words compared to actions of dedication and loyalty?”

Addam passes you a thankful smile before he steps forward to garner everyone’s attention so he can speak in his own case. “That’s why I’m here, to prove to her that I would die for her. I don’t want to, not yet, but if it has to happen I would die to see her succeed because I believe in her, because she should be on that throne, and I can only prove that in the battlefield on top of my dragon, not on my knees begging. If she wants to punish me after, then so be it, but it will only be after we win against those turncloack and against the traitors wanting to march to the Red Keep and take her throne.”

You look at him proudly, missing the way Cregan catches the shared looks between the two of you.

“Now I know my word doesn’t mean anything to any of you, you don’t know me and I don’t know you, but trusting one another is by chance, isn’t it? So give us a chance and we will be your greatest ally,” he continues, easing the tension and their demeanors toward him and you—“we have a plan to garner more fighting men, and we have two dragons, but that power can only be gained if you trust us. Give us a chance.”

No matter what Cregan thinks about the two of you together, or just Addam making you smile so fondly, he still stands up to address the group now.

“You both speak fiercely, and from what I can pick up on, with sincerity, but may I ask one thing?” He asks and slowly lets his eyes drag to you. “Will you fight in the state you are in? If not then can your dragon fight? Because it’s true that we need what you can offer, we need it to win against three dragons, so if you can’t fight, can your dragon fight without you on her back?”

You blink in disbelief and challenge his gaze as if he had just uttered the most offensive thing he could ever utter, and then counter right away with a sense of ferocity so you’re not questioned or pestered as if you were a helpless little girl. “My dragon fights if I fight, if I am out of the field so is she. And right now you need all the firepower you can get so I am going to be on dragonback fighting like Addam.”

Said man sighs in protest, but he knows he can't do a thing about it so he just stays quiet. As for Cregan, even if he thinks that the babies you’re carrying are not his right now, he still cares about you and therefore cares for them so he’s not convinced or intimidated like the others are, but he will talk about that later.

“Alright,” he says with a nod before he sighs and goes on. “Well, I welcome you then, if the others are in agreement say aye.”

You hold his gaze for a moment longer until the men gathered around the wooden table all agree to let you join their forces, letting you and Addam let out a breath of relief.

“Find an empty tent for Ser Addam,” Cregan instructs one of the young squires. “The princess can take mine until hers is set up.”

You immediately cut in with a shake of your head as you try to turn him down. “No, my Lord it’s quite fine. I can take any other tent.”

Cregan immediately shuts you down. “No,” he scoffs. “Don't be mad. I am not with child. You are and you are my Princess. You will take my tent, and if not, regardless I won’t sleep in it tonight.”

You part your lips to try and rebuttal him but you also know he won’t back down, not about this or the other matter if you’re being realistic, so you hesitantly give in. And since it’s already late and there isn't anything that needs your attention you find your way to Cregan’s tent right away.

Yet no matter how much the tent is riddled with his scent, no matter how every corner is a reminder that you are finally together, all you can think about is how long this day has been and how much you need it to end. In the morning you woke up with Aemond by your side, with his arms secured around you, and now you’re getting ready for bed with the knowledge that you won’t ever get to share a bed together. You won’t have your limbs tangled, and you won’t make him smile or watch him breathe as he sleeps deeply. He is gone forever and that thought makes your heart ache and weep.

You want to see him again. You want to steal one more kiss. You just need to feel his warmth one more time. You just need…something…

Yet how can you have any of it when he’s gone and will never return? You’re left with nothing but the memory of him. That’s all you will have for the rest of your life—how tragic. How depressing.

Nevertheless, as you’re lost in your grief, as the silence mingles in the tent, a voice makes your shoulders jump and cranes your head over your shoulder.

“Princess, may I come in?” You identify Cregan's voice right away.

“Yes, of course.”

Not even a lingering minute later the flaps of the tent open and he walks in holding something you don’t even give any attention to. Your eyes immediately land on his face and remain locked there.

“Did you forget something?” You probe, and he shakes his head before he lifts the fur blankets he brought in.

“No. I just had extra in my tent so I wanted to bring them to you. It’s cold when you’re in a tent,” he explains in a softer voice than he was using before.

“Oh,” you breathe out and nod ever so lightly. “Okay. Thank you.”

He walks further in to place the blankets on the table, and instead of proceeding to walk out, he stays where he is and studies your face, noticing the grief that now decorates every part of your face. You had held yourself together so well before, just like you were taught, just like a princess and an heir should, but now that it’s just you and him alone, you let your eyes droop and grief paints a tragic and aching picture in your eyes. More so now as he asks with his eyes alone if you’re okay—you completely break with a shaking breath as you hold his gaze as if he was everything you had been missing to let yourself really feel.

Thus without needing to utter a word, without gesturing each other close, you break away from your spot and he welcomes you with open arms, holding you tightly against him the moment you clash and clutch onto him like he is your salvation.

“Cregan,” you weep and he drags a hand up to cup the back of your head and press his head against yours.

“I know darling. I know,” he whispers to comfort you. “I know. I’m here.”

You cry harder at the sound of comfort and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck without thinking about getting him wet. You keep yourself clung around him and he holds onto you as if his life depends on it, making sure to caress your back and stroke the back of your neck when he moves his hand down.

You remain in the silence, soaking in each other's comfort and company. Nothing is uttered but there is something you need to get off your chest, so you just drag your face away from his neck and break the silence.

“I tried,” your voice breaks. “I tried so hard. I tried, but I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save Jace. I was too late,” you cry. “And Viserys…” you trail off and shake your head. “I couldn’t find him. Now they’re gone. Jace is gone, he died in my arms and I couldn’t save him. If-if—” before you can finish, Cregan suddenly yanks himself back but doesn’t put too much distance between you, he cradles your face with his large hands and looks deep into your eyes.

“Listen to me, you tried. That’s what matters. You were there for him in his last moments, that’s what matters, darling. Do you understand? You were there for him, you comforted him and held him as he went. You did good,” he praises you as he caresses your cheekbones with his thumbs. “Do you understand?”

You blink repeatedly, letting more warm tears fall down your cheeks before you nod faintly and croak under your breath. “I understand.”

Cregan nods with you and tilts his head but never loses hold of your eyes. “And as for Viserys. There’s nothing you could have done. You tried, that matters. Now you fight for them, okay? You keep living for them, for their memory, okay?”

You sniffle and nod faintly once again, not daring to argue because this is all you needed; comforting words from someone who did care about your brothers. Someone to hold you so you could grieve them.

“Good,” he whispers before he fixes his head and points to the bed. “Let’s go sit okay, darling?”

You let him guide you to the edge of bed and sit with him in a comforting silence. After a while, after you no longer have running tears and your breaths come steady and not shaky, you look over at him and study him, noticing how dark the circles are under his eyes.

“You need to rest Cregan,” you point out without needing to ask if he is exhausted because you know he is. “You’re exhausted.”

Cregan slowly turns his head to take you in and sighs deeply. “I will. Soon. I just need to make sure you're taken care of.”

You scoff softly and drop your head to smile faintly at your hands. “I am. Thank you.”

He hums as he admires you while you’re not looking. “I will have some of the healers tend to you. Make sure you're fed and looked after.”

You roll your head up and look at him with a pointed gaze. “No need, I can tend to myself. Don't bother them. If I wanted to be looked after I would return home with Vanessa, but I’m here, I will remain here tending to myself.”

Cregan bites the inside of his cheek and nods slowly in understanding, knowing neither of you will get anywhere if you keep arguing about it. “Alright,” he gives you what you want.

You hum and then avert your gaze to stop feeling your heart flutter under his heavy gaze. “Where’s Ser Rolf? Sleeping?”

Cregan chuckles. “Probably, but not here. He’s in Winterfell in my stead since Rickon is too young.”

You nod with comprehension and feel his eyes roam your face before they fall on your belly.

“Your boy?” He asks. “Is he fine? Healthy?”

You smile brightly and nod as you face him. “Yes, healthy and fat. Dragging his bottom across the floor.”

Cregan hums and offers you a flickering smile before he leans in. “Well, my offer still stands. It may be winter but if your son and Vanessa need refuge they can find some at Winterfell. And if this war is still going on when your twins are born then they have a home there too. The people there love you, and therefore they love your children. They will protect them.”

Your heart swoons but you hide your flustered face by looking down. “Thank you, Cregan, really, and right now they’re taken care of by my mother and my sworn protectors. Hopefully, they won’t need refuge but if they do I will gladly accept your invitation:”

“Good.”

You nod gently and follow up with silence, letting him continue to just take you in as you fiddle with your sapphire ring. You should send him to his own tent so you can both find sleep, but neither of you actually want to leave each other's company so you find the excuse to linger next to each other for a few more stolen minutes.

“Your sword, it’s Valyrian steel. Which one is it?” He finds a reason to stay longer.

You glance over at Blackfyre resting by the table and give him the name. “Blackfyre. The one passed to the rulers of our house. Aemond…took it from Aegon while he was abed, and before…” you trail off but don’t and can’t finish the rest.

“I understand,” Cregan mutters.

You snap your head toward him and breathe out deeply. “He died today and I don’t know if I can take care of three children on my own. I…don’t know what to do without him.” You share in a moment of vulnerability, knowing in the back of your head that you are capable and that a bright future awaits you, but right now you feel so defeated and he’s your best friend. You know it hurts him to hear you speak about Aemond in such a way, you see him swallow thickly and finally let his eyes wander away from you, but you need to confide in him.

“You're the strongest person I know,” he says to the air ahead of him. “You may feel helpless now, but you’re just grieving. You can and will raise your children because you’re strong. This grief will pass eventually.”

You take a deep breath and look away too, losing your gaze on nothing in particular and just listening to each other breathe for a few more stolen minutes. And this time there’s nothing to keep him from leaving.

“I should let you rest,” he says with a deep breath before he gets off the bed. “Goodnight, my princess.”

You stand up with him and meet his gaze to return his comment. “Goodnight, my Lord.”

Said man scoffs at what you call him and before he can leave you lean in and press a kiss on his cheek, catching him by surprise.

“Goodnight,” you whisper again, earning his attentive gaze and letting it mingle on you for a moment before you force yourself back.

“Goodnight,” he says one more time before he bows his head and finally departs, stealing one last look at you watching him leave before he exits the tent, leaving you to your lonesome in that bitter night where all that occupies your mind and dreams is Aemond. Aemond, Aemond, and Aemond.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

There’s no escaping the pain, not anymore, not after losing Aemond, but as you look at the clouded sky, as you watch the parting clouds drifting by, for some reason there in that endless sky you can find the fact that eventually the pain will be a memory and you will look back at your losses in a much more fonder light.

You won’t cry every time the simplest memory comes to mind, you won’t want to stay curled up in bed as the kisses from the man you loved haunt your lips. You’ll think back and smile because they were in your life. That will be a beautiful thing, one day.

“Good morning,” the sound of Cregan’s voice pulls your attention away from the sky to drift your eyes down. You can’t see him since you don’t stand up, but you also don’t want to stand up so you just aim your eyes in his general direction.

“You left your sword in your tent,” he brings up and you then hear the shuffling of leather against his hands, meaning he brought Blackfyre with him. “We’re in an active war, you can’t be wandering off on your own. Not without protection.”

You blow a raspberry and turn your body against the water to turn towards your dragon resting her large neck in the water to keep the water warm with her steams of breath.

“My girl is with me,” you point your dragon out. “She’ll protect me.”

“And if something were to happen to your twins?” He keeps pestering you, but this time you don’t have a good argument so you just probe him.

“Why did you come find me? How did you find me?”

You hear his footsteps approach the lake's shore and come to a stop shortly thereafter to respond. “I went to look for you to invite you to break fast with me, and when I didn’t find you in your tent I asked around.”

A teasing smile tugs on your lips. “Well thank you for thinking about me, but I already broke fast. I saw the lake on Dragonback so I walked here after I woke up and had breakfast by the lake because the twins were hungry.”

Cregan scoffs in amusement before he fills the silence with a comment filled with…annoyance. You detect it in his voice. “I’m surprised your uncle is not here with you. Accompanying you.”

Is he jealous of Addam?

You almost have to laugh. You don’t but you let a smile dance on your lips before you finally push yourself to your feet and face him, seeing him wear that ever so heavy cloak, and carrying his own large sword as if he’s expecting to be attacked at any second.

“Is that not heavy?” You tease with a half smile, seeing him maintain his eyes on your face even though your gown is sticking to your figure and water is dripping off your chin and falling on your chest. You would have gone in completely nude but there are a lot of men around so you chose to play it safe instead.

“Your cloak? Your massive sword?” You specify. “Unload my Lord. We’re not going to war right now.”

Cregan swallows thickly and lifts his hand to take his sheathed sword off, but as you start to walk out of the water he stops what he’s attempting to watch your dripping body expose more and more as you walk to shore to meet him.

“Addam is my uncle, my friend. My confidant. Nothing more and nothing less,” you finally assure him. “Don’t…worry.”

When your feet hit the shore he snaps from his stupor and finally slides his sheath off his shoulder before resting it next to, Blackfyre.

“You wouldn’t want to take a dip with me would you, my Lord?” You offer with a taunting smirk that he catches as his eyes are quick to find your lips. “Astraea keeps the water warm so you wouldn’t freeze. Albeit you are used to a colder climate, so.”

Cregan’s grey eyes slide up to meet your gaze and he shakes his head. “Thank you for the offer but not now. Perhaps if the offer still stands later, when the day has drained me I will gladly accept a dip in the steaming lake.”

You swallow back nervously and feel your heart skip a beat as he holds your eyes with a great intensity. You almost don’t retort, but you manage to collect yourself.

“We’ll see if Astraea is willing to help again. The offer is very much ready now though, just say the word,” you roll out slowly before you start to walk past him, making him turn his body where he stands so he doesn’t lose sight of you, and so you keep each other chest to chest until you part away to sit on a rock.

“I heard conflicting reports,” Cregan doesn’t let silence intrude, causing you to pick your gaze off the dry and clean wrap that you need to put around your wet body to dry it—“you can touch fire without getting hurt.”

You lift a quizzical brow and press him for more. “What else have you heard about me?”

Cregan shakes his head. “I have tried not to hear much. I don’t let my men speak ill of you.”

A small smile flickers on your lips but you still press him, knowing that whether he wants to or not he’s heard about you; bad and good things. “But word still spreads. Tell me.”

“It’s nothing I believe,” he still avoids sharing the trash spread by venomous tongues. “Just tell me if it’s true or not that you can walk in fire.”

You drop your head to tie the long piece of cloth around you. “Yes,” you put it simply. “But the discovery is new. I only found out after I left Winterfell. I mean I have always had a feeling but given that I never had a reason to test it, I never really knew. Not until after I left.”

Cregan hums and you give an example as to what he might have heard. “They say I'm cursed, don’t they? That my mother gave birth to a demon?”

Cregan utters your name in disbelief and you look up at him unaffected by such things.

“I heard a man utter those words to an empty cobble square,” you share softly regardless of how unbothered you try to be. “He might be mad but he said it with passion so I know that it’s something that he doesn’t believe alone. If he says that, other people across the realm think it too.”

Cregan shakes his head and you put your hand up.

“Don’t try to be a gentleman,” you interrupt him. “People will say the same thing for as long as I live. Even when I die they will say the same thing. They will read it too, so I will spit in their faces even in death and be proud of my ability. I can walk through fire, I don’t burn. My flesh is fire made and I’m proud.” You say with the same emotions you speak of, offering him a proud smirk that he can’t help but be relieved by.

Yet even if you see the glimmers of pride brighten his grey eyes, you still have to doubt him out of fear. “It doesn’t scare you? What I can do?”

Cregan drops his head to glance at the ground for a brief moment before he walks to you and sits on the little space next to you, proceeding to tilt his head up to have you under his gaze before he speaks softly in the exact way his eyes look. “My people. My family can warg into the minds of animals. The dead are hidden behind a large wall, and you ride a dragon. I would have to be pretty ignorant and stupid to fear you, my Princess. The people fear you because they don’t know anyone like you because you are a fearsome thing to behold.”

You shake your head and whisper with a hint of insecurity. “I am not scary. I never wanted to be scary to people. I’m just a girl.”

Cregan’s eyebrows knit together and he follows your gaze as you avert them to hide the tears that well in your eyes.

“I know, but you are Targaryen, you ride a dragon, you wield a sword, and now you walk through fire without being harmed; the people will always fear the unknown, and you know your subjects should always hold a little fear for you while also holding respect and love,” he says to try and console you.

“I know,” you share with a vulnerability that comes easy when you’re speaking to him. “I know I have to strike fear in people, but I never wanted it. Not truly. I embrace it now, I relish in it, but isn’t it easier to love us? My mother, me, and my family? Why do they prefer war and death over letting her take her rightful place? Why do they push her over the edge?”

Cregan’s eyes flicker down to your hand, letting his hand slide over yours before his eyes find yours again and he gives you an answer. “Unfortunately it’s the way people are. They’re ignorant and close-minded, thinking a certain sex is better than another when it’s not true. It’s the way the world works, but it can change. Your mother can prove that. You can too. And if they still don’t want to see that then they can continue to lead themselves to death, or deal with it when she officially sits on that throne.”

Your ache eases and a soft smile slowly spreads on your lips. Cregan watches you, watches your smile, and takes a deep breath, letting his overdriving emotions push him forward.

However, before he can close the gap before the wetness of his lips can connect to yours, and before you can pull your head away, he keeps still and lets the warmth of his lips radiate over yours, letting his desire build but not give in.

“Cregan,” you whisper as you slowly cup his jaw. “Aemond just died yesterday.”

He gives you a nod that’s almost ghostly as he repeats what you just said. “Your husband just died. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes go small as you offer him a sweet smile. “I can’t truly give you what you want, what you have been longing for, and what I myself have desired. Not right now,” you say honestly.

Cregan lets out a deep sigh and lets his head drop, but you quickly give him some reassurance by tilting your head down to press your forehead against his. “We waited this long, we can wait a while longer, no?” You try to comfort him. “My path and my heart all lead to you, just give me time. Please.”

Cregan slowly presses his hand over yours, being quick to stroke your knuckles with his thumb before he draws in a breath to speak his mind.

Yet before he can utter a word, branches snap in the distance; yanking you apart from each other, and turning your heads away from one another to play as if nothing is happening. When the noise turns to an intruder you stand up and face Addam.

“Addam,” you greet with a pleased smile.

He doesn’t return it though. He looks at your body drenched in water and wrapped with a simple cloth before his eyes drift to Cregan and lets a displeased look start to mingle on his features.

“Someone arrived for you,” he reveals and peels his eyes away from Cregan slowly standing on his feet to focus on you and search for an answer without speaking a word about it.

“Who?” You probe with worry. “Is it news?”

Addam points to the direction of the camp. “Why don’t you come and see.”

You challenge him so he can reveal who it is, but he doesn’t give in, thus making you let out a deep breath before you take Blackfyre and walk ahead, knowing he and Cregan will trail behind you without needing to be told. However, Addam quickly gets behind you so the Lord isn’t any closer to you than he already was when he found you.

“Here,” he interjects and takes the sword from you so you don’t have to be carrying the heavy thing around when it’s not necessary—“why didn’t you tell me you were coming out here? I was worried.”

You sigh and peer over your shoulder. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to wake you that’s all. It was early.”

“The twins?” He asks making Cregan pay close attention—“are they bothering you?”

“They’re getting too big so they’re growing restless,” you share as you rub your belly. “Besides Daenys is always on time, she wakes up at the same time every morning.”

Addam scoffs and you catch him rolling his eyes at the fact that you call your unborn children by their names. Even though you shouldn’t know their gender yet.

“What?” You press teasingly and stop briefly to instead walk side by side. “Spit it out.”

“There’s no way for you to know what you’re expecting,” he utters the same bullshit as always. “You’re just getting yourself excited over what can be a boy.”

You smile as you roll your head to the side and once again repeat the same thing you already told him just yesterday. “I told you, Alys told me—well she told Aemond, and he told me, but she is not wrong.”

“Just like the witch is not wrong about your seven children?” He mocks you but you don’t ever back down, you nod confidently.

“I have one, and two on the way,” you argue. “That makes three. I just need four more.”

“I wouldn’t entertain it,” Cregan interjects, jumping on Addam’s side. “She loves her witches.”

You throw your arms out. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!” You exclaim. “Why don’t either of you believe in them when dragons and Green Men exist?!”

Addam shakes his head and argues. “Green Men are different. Protectors. Alys has lived in the depths of the forest alone for far too long. She’s mad.”

You shake your head and get ready to defend her but Cregan jumps in too. “And your Red Priestess is a part of a cult. Fanatics who only scam you.”

You roll your eyes and don’t let them dim your beliefs, you bite back. “The Red Priestess did not take my money first of all. She took my blood in exchange for a vision of my future. She approached me, and Alys helped me in the same way the Green Men helped you, Addam.”

He hums and nods his head lightly, telling you he doesn’t believe you, so you continue.

“She let me see the same thing the Red Priestess showed me in the fire, a long winter carrying the dead with it…”

Cregan stiffens at the sound of the words he heard you speak only months before. And like before you carry the same passion and belief behind your words.

“It can be an illusion. A lie to frighten you,” Addam rebuttals, but you hold his gaze and stand your ground, sharing more than you should have.

“It was not a lie because he told me,” you say and come to a stop, making both men stop to hang onto every word with intent—“my son. Not Aerion, and not either of the twins. And before you cut in with something witty, I know. Who wouldn’t know their own son? He was as clear as you are now, with deep grey eyes and dark hair…”

Cregan’s gaze narrows in confusion and more wonder than ever before.

“With a melancholy look, he shared what he knows. He told me about the long winter. He told me and I believe him and in turn, I believe Alys. So yes there is a way for me to know what my twins are. That’s all I know. Everything they told me is all I’ll ever know and I’ll cherish it.” You finish confidently before you turn away to continue walking down your path before they can ask questions. And even though they’re both itching to question you—Cregan, more than Addam; neither man speaks on the matter, choosing a stunned silence over speaking their minds. Thankfully.

Soon thereafter nevertheless, you reach the campgrounds and follow Addam to who’s waiting for you, catching a growing crowd of men already gawking and whispering about your visitor which in turn heightens your curiosity.

“Make room for the princess,” a man announces, forcing the crowd to break apart and clear a path toward the visitor. However, once the path is clear and leads you to your visitor, you come to a stop and drop your jaw out of surprise when you see Ser Cane Clegane is the one who came in search of you. He is the one standing in the middle of the crowd, and he is the one you face. Your sworn protector.

“Ser Cane,” you gasp and attempt to smile, but it comes out wobbly as you’re struck with disbelief, joy, and appreciation.

“Princess,” he immediately greets and bows to you, causing you to watch him so he wouldn’t get out of sight because a part of you believes he’s some illusion. It’s just…his arrival is a surprise. That’s why when he stands up straight and your eyes immediately fall on his gaze, you ask the overwhelming question.

“What are you doing here, Ser? So far from home?”

Ser Cane walks toward you and stops when he reaches a good and respectable distance to give your question an obvious answer. “Once I heard you left in a hurry, I came after you. I arrived at Harrenhal and the woman told me you had left so, I rode all night to catch up to you.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel your eyebrows knit together for a brief second before your face eases and all you can express is disbelief. “You came after me?” Your voice cracks, making him look at you as if you just asked the most stupid question in your life, because why wouldn’t he come after you?

“I made the mistake of not going to find you before and you got held captive. You of course fought back and freed yourself,” he chuckles with a sense of pride. “But I never want you to be put in that situation again. Not while I’m still alive. I am your sworn protector, my duty is to protect you, my duty is to follow you to the ends of the earth until my last breath. That’s what I will do.”

Your breath hitches as your heart skips a beat. That look of appreciation that you hold on your face turns to sweet admiration and before he knows it you rush to him to surprise him with an embrace. And as caught off guard as he is, he doesn’t leave you hanging, he gently wraps his arms around you and lets you take the time you need, which isn’t a lot, but he still doesn’t rush you, letting you pull away first.

“Where’s Ser Jason?” You ask for your other sworn protector.

“I left him protecting the little lord,” he says and gives your mind and heart relief.

“Good, thank you.” You offer him kindly before you step back and turn around to move to the side and present him. “Lord Stark, this is my sworn protector, Ser Cane Clegane. Ser Cane this is Lord Cregan Stark.”

Ser Cane bows his head, and Cregan offers him a gentle nod as a greeting.

“And these are the men we are fighting with,” you introduce the knight to the crowd growing smaller and smaller now that they know who arrived.

Ser Cane offers anyone who is still lingering around a stiff nod before he gives you his attention.

“You must be tired of riding, so once a tent is set up you will find some rest. That’s an order,” you blurt before he can argue. “Ser Addam can watch out for me for today. Alright?

Ser Cane sighs as he’s left unable to even lift a finger to argue back.

“Tomorrow morning you may get up whenever you need to start your watch,” you ease his worry. “And if you do want to know to ease your heart, today we will just have a brainstorming meeting to figure out what to do, okay? Nothing grande.”

He hums and nods in comprehension before his eyes drift ahead. “Lord Stark, may you direct me to the commander in charge of your guards?” He interjects in an attempt to do the work he can while he’s on his short leave. “I would like to set up a watch for the night shift to stand outside the Princess’ tent.”

Cregan, the ever-so-protective friend, doesn’t hesitate to indulge the knight’s request. “Right this way Ser.”

Said man returns his attention to you and bows his head. “If you may excuse me Princess I will now go pick guards to protect you. If you don’t require any more of my attention that is.”

You shake your head. “No, that is all, I’m sure Lord Stark can share the inner workings of our camp and have someone give you a tent so you can rest. I mean it Ser.”

“Of course, I will, my Princess. Rest assured.”

You smile at him and grab his arm to give it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for coming after me, my friend. I’m

Thankful and glad you’re here.”

“Always,” he says in return with a surprisingly softer tone. “I am glad I found you.”

Your smile widens and you grow even more fond of your knight, choosing to watch him and Cregan walk off together and jump right into a conversation.

“May I ask you something?” Addam’s sudden intrusion surprises you, and when you look over at him you see his gaze locked on Cregan before he finds you with a curiosity you quickly dissect and know what it’s going to lead to.

“I’m going to change,” you cut him off before he can utter a word, and then turn swiftly to march to your tent.

“Wait!” Addam blurts and walks after you. “It's just a question.”

——

*LATER*

“The goal is clear; we march to the great and small houses of the Riverlands to have them gather fighting men to join us in our fight against the Greens in Tumbleton,” Addam shares what he’s been brainstorming. “That may not have many to spare but the numbers they can spare will still aid us in our fight.”

The men pass each other confused looks, and when they return their attention to Addam, one of them interjects with an argument. “The terror of the Trident is dead and…no offense, but you are considered a traitor to everyone who isn’t us, and,” he pauses and glances over at you. “The princess has been passing the war flying between enemy lines doing as she pleases. The houses of the Riverlands will not spare their few remaining men for…a chance.”

“Mind yourself My Lord, the Princess, and Ser Addam are not some common folk you may speak to as you please,” Cregan cuts in and steps forward so he can be seen and understood.

“It’s alright, My Lord,” you ease the tension and continue for Addam in a much rougher way than he was speaking. “It’s true. It may be difficult for us to gain their trust, but when we ask them they won’t hear the same speech we gave you. We will offer them kind terms or I will offer them fire and blood.” You flash them a smirk.

The men go uneasy at the sound of the threat that slips so easily off your tongue, and as your eyes scan their tensing bodies whilst you push your chair back. Addam helps you to your feet, but he proceeds to go on for you, letting you be an intimidating figure instead.

“If they don’t have men to spare we won’t force them to fight, but if they do it’s them that we will need. It’s why we need to march to the Houses we can, so we can have a chance at succeeding. This fight won't be won alone. It will take all of us.”

Addam’s words are kinder so some of their tension eases off their shoulders, but that threat you made still lingers in their heads, showing more distrust for you than the man next to you as they take you as some mad Targaryen.

“Very well,” another lord cuts in. “I assume we depart at once, no?”

Cregan is the one who answers this time, giving an answer only he knows since you are still getting to know the army of men. “At first light. So prepare to leave.”

The men around the table all offer him a comprehensive nod and soon thereafter one of them leans towards the wooden table to add something before the meeting can conclude. “What of the prisoners? The men who fought with Ser Criston? We can’t keep bringing them with us, can we? What is the solution for them?”

“I say we kill them and deliver their bodies to the Hightower army and the daring Prince. Show them that they still have not killed our spirit,” a young boy no older than Lucerys had been, offers a very loud and quite gruesome solution.

Yet it’s because of his bold offer that an idea comes to you.

“I have a solution,” you say and make them start to wonder. “Get all the prisoners out of their cells and gather them in the clearing.”

The men don’t move, they look to Cregan for permission and he himself doesn’t have an idea of what you have planned, but he doesn’t need to know, he trusts you so he raises his voice to scold the men. “You heard the Princess, gather the prisoners. She should not repeat herself.”

This time the men rise out of their seats and some do as you ordered, while others leave to gather men so they can all watch what’s about to transcend, leaving you, Addam, and Cregan in the tent.

“Call to Seasmoke,” you let Addam know as you turn and face him, catching the confusion flicker on his face.

“Why?” He asks.

“Do it, but don’t have him appear in the clearing just yet. I don’t want the men to be frightened,” you make him even more confused, but he doesn’t question you. He just brings up a question.

“How do I let him know when to appear and when not to?”

You flash him a smile and tap his chest with your fist. “It all comes from here,” you say and keep your fist pressed against his chest. “That’s how we communicate with our dragons. Our souls are intertwined. Listen.” You share as you pull your hand away and let it fall back on your side before you walk away with Cregan by your side.

Yet it’s only once you’re out of the tent that he finally probes. “What are you planning to do?”

You blink and turn to look at him at your side. “I know some of those men. I did not know them for long at all, but the moments we did share I got to garner some of their respect. And we need men.”

Cregan scoffs and the corner of his lips twitch to a smirk, but he doesn’t let it stay.

“Besides,” you add and look ahead again. “The men in there don’t respect me. They fear me because of my dragon, because of the rumors they heard, but besides their fear, I also need their respect as a warrior.”

“And you think what you have in mind will gain it?” Cregan asks out of curiosity.

You sigh. “If I could gain it another way I would take that route, but we are at war, and I am their commander. I need them to respect me like they respect you and the rest of the men here.”

Cregan hums and you let your gaze linger on nothing in particular before you turn your head to him. “You trust me?”

Cregan’s grey eyes find your gaze and he looks into you as if there isn’t an obvious answer to your question. He looks at you expecting you to know the answer, but you have been away from him for a long time, you’ve changed since the last time you saw him. And letters weren’t going to show that, but he sees that now so you need to hear his answer.

“I do. Whatever choice you make.” He reassures your worried heart.

You let out a relieved sigh and nod in comprehension, letting your gaze linger on each other so you’re all each other sees, so you’re all each other can think about to the point he remembers a matter he needs to get off his chest.

“May I ask you something?” He brings up, causing you to blink out of your daze.

“Of course,” you assure him with a nod before you look away.

Cregan clears his throat first before he probes. “This vision you had about your son. What was his name? What…was he like?”

Shit, you shared too much before, didn’t you?

Well, the boy did have grey eyes, a strong chin, and this solemn look Cregan carries too, but can you be sure he's his? What if all you do is get his hopes up for something that might not be his?

“What I shared is all I know,” you say without sharing your assumptions so you don’t hurt him in the process. “It was only a short vision. He said we would meet each other again.”

Cregan’s eyes stay on you for a second longer before he looks away, letting you now take your turn to look at him while he’s not looking. “You believe me now?” You tease him, making his lips flicker a smile on his features before he shrugs.

“I would be foolish not to wouldn’t I?” He says.

“Not really. More logical than anything else.”

He turns to face you with the corner of his lips turning up for a second before nothing else is added to the matter and silence seeps through as you head to the clearing.

Once you arrive at the clearing, you wait on top of a small hill that faces the clearing and wait for the prisoners to be rounded up, and a crowd to gather before you commence and finally feed the curiosity of all the men gathered before you.

“It's a surprise to see my face on the other side of this war, isn’t it?” You start off by saying with your hands clasped before you, your shoulders straight, and your nose pointed to the air—“not long ago we roamed the same campsite. Not long ago you followed the orders of my husband and his men, but now my husband and his men are dead,” you share without having your voice break. “And I stand before you. The ones who lived. You are captured but you are still alive and for that I applaud you.”

The crowd of men look at you lost, not knowing where you’re taking this gathering.

“As well as offer a way to stay alive,” you say and create a tension amongst the Rivermen and the Northerners. “As the heir to Queen Rhaenyra, and as your princess I will grant you the choice to bend the knee to Queen Rhaenyra, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, because I know you. I know how brave some of you are. I know some of you are respectful, and some of you were just doing what you were told after you got ripped from your homes, from your families, and from your lives to be given a sword and shoved to fight for a usurper you don’t believe in. I know some of you know nothing else but to fight, and to those, to all of you. I say bend the knee,” you sneer and look at them between your lashes.

Whispers travel throughout the crowd gathered around the prisoners, while some of the prisoners themselves look at one another to question what they have in mind before they mirror each other and bend the knee. Yet as some bend the knee without question, others remain defiant and stick out like a sore thumb as they remain standing.

“Very well,” you interject once everyone has made up their minds. “Round up half of the men left standing and the other half take them back to their cells,” you demand and right away the young lord from before is the first to bark orders at his men before he joins them and eagerly rounds up the defiant prisoners to the side, leaving those on their knees where they are and as they are. And since you don’t have anything to say to them right now you turn to Addam.

“Come, it’s time. Call to Seasmoke,” you let him know ominously before you walk uphill a few paces to be able to face the men that were gathered to the side. Addam trails behind you but stops before he can catch up when he hears the rustling of trees, and the echoes of branches breaking before the fierce glare of a dragon appears from the shadows of the forest, stealing the breaths of the men you’re allied with and the prisoners alike, before they’re completely out of their skins when your purple dragon brings down the trees in her path and stands right behind you.

“Mercy,” one of the prisoners breathes out loud enough to be heard, but nothing is done, his wishes aren’t granted. The men that gathered them up move away, leaving them there in your dragon's direct aim.

“You want to stand with your broken king?” Your threatening voice fills the air as your dragon snarls and slowly pushes her neck out to have her head hover over you—“well, so be it. Let’s see if he saves you now.” You snicker, creating goosebumps on the men who were against you around that meeting table, but earning the respect that they failed to have for you then as you don’t fear the violence or the tough decision. You don’t look away from death, you face it. They respect that.

However, they have yet to see what you have to demonstrate, and you only wait for Seasmoke to descend from the skies, bringing a blast of air with him as he lands harshly behind Addam.

“Mercy!” Another prisoner cries out and gets on his knees now, but you don’t give him what he so desperately wants. What he had the chance to gain before.

“Dracarys,” you respond to his plea with the command and a hungry look in your eyes that matches your dragons before she leans more forward to have her head past you and open her jaw.

“Dr—Dracarys,” Addam proceeds to voice his own command, and unlike Astraea, Seasmoke moves forward, past Addam to face the prisoners before he and Astraea both bath the prisoners with fire, creating a song of cries and wails to ring through the clearing, and causing Addam to move away as waves of heat from the dragon fire hit him. All while you stay under Astraea and show that the heat doesn’t bother you. You don’t flinch or cry, the lively fire eating away at the bodies reflects in your ravenous eyes before you turn away as it all suddenly goes silent when the men turn to nothing but burnt corpses the dragons feast on.

“Now,” you don’t linger in the silence and start to walk off the hill. “You.”

When you’re on the same level as the men left on their knees you continue. “If you want to leave you may. No one will stop you and no one will harm you. Or if you wish to stay, do so, but know you will fight yet another war at Tumbleton against the Hightower army who have sacked the town. Against my uncle Prince Daeron,” you spat his name. “His dragon, and the turncloaks who regrettably call themselves dragonriders. If you stay, you fight with me, with Ser Addam, Lord Stark and his men, and the Lords of the Riverlands. Stay, and you fight for Queen Rhaenyra, you fight to bring peace to this treacherous war. You fight for your families, your homes, and your own lives. Stay, and fight if you want. Or leave.”

Silence is a common visitor and once again finds a place amongst the crowd as you all wait to see what they will choose.

And as you and a majority of the lords expect the men to get up and leave, the men get up on their feet and instead face you with a fiery determination. “Blood Dragon!” One man exclaims from the crowd of previous prisoners.

“Blood Dragon!” Another man echoes before more and more voice the same thing with more excitement, turning the cry into a chant that litters your skin with goosebumps.

No matter how many times you hear people chant for you, the excitement and dedication shared in a roar of excitement is something you will never get used to.

“Give the men tents,” you give a demand once you turn away from the cheering crowd. “Feed them, offer them warm baths, and give them new armor. They will now be one of us, treat them as such. If I see any mistreatment I will personally see to that punishment.”

“Princess,” a commanding knight says in comprehension.

Shortly thereafter, before you take a step to leave a Lord interjects. “What of the other men you left as prisoners?”

You face the Lord with a creeping smile and give him a simple answer. “Let’s see some fun before we depart.”

With no further explanation, you depart and leave confusion in the air. Confusion that turns to curiosity. And curiosity that gets fed when the sun is down and the stars and moon are in your company, giving light to the prisoners gathered in a makeshift ring in the clearing, and giving light to you and Addam along with Cregan as you sit on the hill that overlooks the scene below and attracts a rather excited crowd as everyone gathers the fact that you are going to make the prisoners fight.

“Greetings everyone!” You make your voice boom as you stand on the hill and face the crowd of men. “Thank you all for joining us tonight. As you all may know we depart in the morning, and it will be the start of a rather wary journey. I won’t lie. We need to ask the houses in the Riverlands for more of their help so we may be that last push we need to win this war. And it’s because of it that I offer a night of fun.” You announce and slowly start to smile a rather cynical smile.

“Place your bets,” you suggest as you clasp your hands together and begin to look eager. “Get a drink and watch these traitors fight in a battle to the death where only one gets to be free and pardoned for not bending the knee, and turning their cloak against Queen Rhaenyra.”

Murmurs travel through the crowd, smiles spread, excitement glimmers in the eyes of tired men, and the little money they have with them is passed around as bets are placed on the prisoners all gathered around the makeshift ring.

“With that said!” You exclaim and throw your arms out because of genuine excitement riddling your body. “Let. The. Fight. To the. Death. COMMENCE!” You make your voice travel out throughout the clearing before you bring your hands together with a clap to signal the start, making the crowd boom with the same excitement that you show off.

Yet that excitement that once overfilled you quickly dies when you sit back in your seat and glower at the fighting men with a piercing glare that glistens against the fire dancing on the torches by you and the three you trust the most, making you seem like a predator stalking their prey from the shadows where if you pay close attention, only their glowing eyes are seen before death becomes their acquaintance.

And the glowering glare works as a warning to the men you spared, letting them know that at any wrong turn, they make that could be them; fighting with every breath they have to try and come out the winner—if they weren’t turned into dragon fodder that is.

Furthermore, the ravenous glare that paints your features, and the sight of the fighting prisoners also works to let the other warriors and the doubtful commanders and Lords know that you aren’t to be trifled with. You don’t squirm at the sight of blood, but most importantly they see that you are someone they can respect and fight with, fight for. It’s an odd and rather bloody way to gain someone’s respect, but it’s because you provide the depleted men with entertainment that they don't see you so high above them. You’re still rather unreachable, but they don’t look at you and see the soles of your feet, they can meet your eyes now and that’s worth fighting for.

What of the men closest to you though? Addam, Ser Cane, and Cregan, what do they see?

Ser Cane sees it as something that has to be done, a way that will keep the fighting men fed from growing mentally wary. While Addam sees blood, bright and crimson red blood, and a rather tasteless sport that he doesn’t take pleasure in watching or see why you seem to enjoy it so much.

As for Cregan? Cregan sees a part of you he didn’t know. A rather cynical part of you, a part of you that stands up and claps with an impressed look in your eyes as a man spins down to avoid being struck, but fails to see his opponent spin down too until it’s too late and his throat is sliced open.

Past that though, he also sees the pain that hides past that smile spreading on your face. He sees the need for revenge flickering like a dancing flame in your eyes as you watch the men from Team Green fight with every fiber their bodies can muster in hopes they feel what Jacaerys felt as he took his last breath, or what Lucerys felt as he was crushed by the jaws of a dragon, what Viserys felt when he was lost at sea, the pain your mother has gone through, what your grandmother felt when she fell to her death, and what Aemond felt. He might have supported Aegon, but you still crave that the men fighting feel what he did when he was stabbed through his head. Cregan can see that thirst for blood, it’s so desperate for something, for a single drop, and yet it’s such a painful emotion.

It’s why he’s not any less fond of you. Then again even if you didn’t carry the agony in your eyes he still would feel the same way he feels burning within him now.

“I’m going to bed,” Addam announces as he gets up.

You pick your head up and turn to look at him. “Okay,” you don’t argue and bid him a sweet goodnight before you turn to Cregan.

“If only I could fight,” you whisper to him as you keep your eyes on the fight below. “It would be so much fun showing them what they deserve.”

Cregan eyes shift to you, you can feel his stare besides just seeing it from the corner of your eyes. “And you think this,” he says and points to the fight. “Display of violence will make them see that they were wrong?”

You spare him a glance but don’t look at him long, choosing to keep your eyes on the fight before you answer without as much as thinking of your response. “I’m not making them fight to death in hopes they see their wrongs. I’m making them fight because it’s what they deserve. What use would they have in cells? What would rotting in a cell do?” You slowly start to grimace, proving to Cregan what he already knew. “They had it coming.”

“They had it coming” echoes in Cregan’s mind, and as he hears yours words echo over and over again, he hopes that your pure visceral anger beneath the surface of your grief and sorrow doesn’t find a way out or else may the gods bless your enemies left with a beating heart because he sees it, he hears that pure visceral anger wanting to break out and be the only dominating emotion.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Maybe two or three full chapters of cregan before another battle!

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (11)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, fluff, bitchy collegue

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (10)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Over the next week, you’re a busy bee. You work harder than ever before to make sure you can take Friday off. Bucky invited you for dinner at his place, and you don’t want to miss your second date for anything in the world.

“Look at our cheery co-worker,” your colleague huffs as you whistle a tune while printing more copies. Only thinking of Bucky and the perfect date you had makes you smile. She can’t ruin your mood.

“A good morning for you too,” you chirp but don’t turn around. Her sour mood is not your problem. It’s not your job to cheer her up. You tried so often, but she only got bitchier whenever you offered your help or tried to be nice.

“Why are you so cheery on a Wednesday morning,” she snarls and stands a little closer. While she looks over your shoulder at the copier, you smile to yourself. If you told her about your date, Alpine and Bucky, your colleague would find a way to ruin it for you too. “Did something good happen over the last days?”

You bite your tongue before you can tell her about your date and Bucky. She’s a nosy bitch and would spread rumors about you and your date without a doubt.

“Nothing special,” you lie, and focus on finishing your task. There’s more than enough to do today, and you don’t have time to entertain her.

“You’re chirping like a little bird, and flutter around the office just the same. I wonder what got into you, is all,” she presses on, determined to find out about the cause of your happiness.”

“I got a new plant,” you say to stop her from asking more questions. The last thing you need is that you accidentally tell her about Bucky.

“I bet it has something to do with your secret admirer. Did he send you more than flowers this time? Lingerie? Dick pics.”

You grit your teeth and exhale sharply. How can she talk like that about your secret admirer? He’d never do such a thing. Your secret admirer is a gentleman, not some creep sending your lingerie or dick pics.

Your colleague keeps on nagging about work, your secret admirer, and life in general. Just like before, you ignore her. No one is going to ruin your mood, or the happiness you feel because of your date with Bucky.

Only the thought of him makes everything better. Your day. Your nights. Your whole life.

She can’t bring you down or take your happiness away from you. Walking away, the copies tugged under your arm you smile sweetly at your colleague. “I need to go back to my desk. If you have any more questions, please make an appointment.”

She gives you the stinky eye, but you don’t care.

“Alpine, we need to clean this place. It must be sparkling clean when Y/N comes here for our date,” Bucky rummages inside the kitchen, looking for a cleaner. “Alpine, no more making the floor dirty. Stop hiding your toys in every corner, punk.”

Alpine hisses at the bucket stand on the floor. The white furball walks past Bucky to jump onto the sofa and get comfortable in their favorite spot.

“Hey, help me here. You want her to like you too, right?” Bucky cocks his head to look at his cat. “Punk, if we want to bring her into our life, you should put more effort into winning her over.”

Bucky furrows his brows. He looks at the bucket and then at the cleaner, deciding to try this new direction first. If dates and love confession won’t work out, he can still let the darker thoughts take over and bring you away.

Maybe convincing you to move in with him isn’t going to work out. Maybe, just maybe he should stick to his original plan and take you away from the life you’re living to give you a better one.

“Hmm…ladies. What do you think?” You pose in front of your plushies while trying on another dress. “No, that’s not the one.” Sighing deeply, you strip off the dress to toss it onto the bed to join the pile of clothing.

Again, you walk toward your wardrobe to get the next dress out. In a few days, you’ve got the next date with Bucky, and you want to look beautiful for him.

Grabbing another dress in fifties style you frown. What if Bucky doesn’t like your style? Maybe you should try something sexier on.  

You shake your head. No. Bucky is not like that. He’s a gentleman and admired the dress you wore for your first date more than once.

“What do you say, this one?” You take your favorite dress out. A rockabilly fifties swing dress, adorned with a beautiful cream-colored floral print and pastel green foliage on a pale salmon pink background. The dress boasts cute, capped sleeves and a ruched chest panel. It’s the perfect mix of cute and stylish. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

Your plushies can’t help you decide. Of course, they can’t. You already know that the dress is the perfect choice for your date with Bucky. If he doesn’t make a move on Friday night, you’ll be damned…

Part 12

Tags in reblog.

[thefandomsfervent]

Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments(Part 17) - Prussian Blue

This is a jayvik x reader fic now but it'll still be labeled as a Vik Fic until it's fully implemented. Ft. JayVik and wine, drunk Jayvik, it goes 18+ here (masturbation). Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. It's late, I was on a roll, and I didn't proofread this a whole lot, I'll edit it later.

Planning on writing as much as I can this weekend to post in bulk before Christmas week, I'll be traveling a distance away and can't bring my laptop with me.

stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

It only took you thirty minutes to find your way back to the lab. Although, those first few minutes had you stressed and embarrassed. You and Mel had spent almost two hours walking and talking and you thought she had taken you all over the Academy, but she really had you both walking laps. You were closer to the dining hall than you thought, from there you were able to find your room, and then the lab. Just as you walk up to that heavy door it swings open. 

“Zlato, please, use your feet.” It’s Viktor, doing his best to keep Jayce above the floor. You rush forward without thinking and get under Jayce’s other arm to prop him up. You have to drop your pouch and your sketchbook. It gets kicked behind you into the lab once you’re able to stand taller. 

“What happened?” You’re asking as you shift Jayce between yourself and Viktor. He’s laughing to himself at the situation. “Oh my gods. He was drunk. Jayce Talis sensible golden boy was drunk.” You remember the wine that Mel had gifted them. But it had only been two hours. Three and half maybe? 

“The wine was stronger than we thought.” When you look at Viktor you see his hair is tousled, his cheeks red from exertion or his own drinking you aren’t sure. 

“Did he have the whole bottle?” You’re laughing and trying not to. The shaking of your shoulders makes it hard to keep Jayce up straight. “Hun you have to help us help you okay?” 

“Mmm you’re both warm. ‘S nice.” You were not letting him live this down tomorrow, if he wasn’t suffering a raging hangover. 

“He had four glasses, too close together I think.” Viktor is adjusting his cane straighter with one hand and moving his shoulders around to get a better grip on Jayce’s back with his other. 

“And you?” 

“I also had four, but I am much better with alcohol than he is.” He thinks back to the first time they had drank together. Some whiskey that was spiced heavily at a cocktail lounge many many months ago. Viktor had enjoyed it, nursing a glass for the first thirty minutes. But Jayce? He slammed it and immediately gagged. Coughing and sputtering. That one drink alone had almost knocked him clean on his ass ten minutes later. He’s laughing at the memory. Especially when he remembers that Jayce made the exact same mistake another ten minutes after drinking a seltzer and they had to sit on the curb outside nursing water. Since then Jayce had learned how to pace himself, learned that he preferred drinks that did not burn his throat and were easier to sip on. Wine was hit or miss. “The wine was sweet, so he was not as cautious as he should have been.”

“WE ARE CELEBRAATING!” The sudden input from Jayce surprised you both. Despite his jelly legs his arms are strong, squeezing the two of you closer. He wasn’t yelling, as much as he was whisper screaming.

“Oh! Congratulations, a new development?” You’re following Viktor’s lead as you take patient steps down the hall. Viktor looks down to Jayce, whose face is flush from all the wine, who has a smile so bright it could be seen in the dark, and who is actively starting to fall asleep in their arms. They needed to move him quickly before he was dead weight. At that point it would be impossible to move him even with your help. There was no time to explain what they were celebrating.

“Yes, a new development.” He can’t help the gentle grin growing on his face. It was so warm. This endearment blooming in his ribs, the wine finding its place throughout his body, feeling your arm against his as you help him haul Jayce down the hallway. He can see their rooms. His was closest and Jayce’s was a couple doors down. There were many reasons he was thankful for the proximity of their moved rooms, but now more than ever. His hand using his cane was starting to go numb from the pressure, a pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder. “Here, to the left. Can you get him to the wall?” Jayce is heavy but you manage to move him to the wall by yourself, needing a breather as you slump against it with him. 

He looks sleepy. Eyes struggling to stay open, his mouth parted, his usually perfect combed back hair disheveled.. “Pretty boy indeed.” You’re brushing it out of his face when he leans into your hand. He’s smiling, white teeth and happiness blinding even in the dim light of the hall. “You alright?”

“Neveerr betterrr.” It’s a slurred breathy reply and he slots his head against your shoulder. Viktor is glancing at you while also fiddling with a ring of keys. The clinking sound of metal against metal echoing in the hallway. He finds the one for Jayce’s room and starts unlocking the door. He nods at you to try and get Jayce to his feet. 

“Hey big guy, you ready to get up again?” Jayce just hums, pushing the back of his head against the wall now. “Don’t you want to lay down all cozy in bed?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Okay then I’m going to get up and I’ll need you to come with me. Can you do that?” Jayce gives another hum of agreement and Viktor watches how gentle you are with him. Helping him stand gingerly, holding onto his waist with one arm, and pulling Jayce’s arm over your shoulder again. Intertwining your fingers with his golden partner’s as you try your damndest to get him through the door. He watches as you give Jayce affirming words and praise for just moving forward with you. It pulls at his core, at all the things him and Jayce had discussed tonight. At all the moments that have been shared. “I’m a sappy drunk,” he thinks as he directs you to Jayce’s bedroom. Viktor pulls the covers back on the bed and lets you set the man down before he sits with him. Helping him take off his shoes. 

“Thank you for your help. I am sure he will apologize tomorrow.” Jayce is leaning against Viktor, whispering something you can’t catch. 

“I can’t say I won’t give him a hard time.” You laugh at the thought, then again when Jayce’s hand is slapped away from Viktor’s tie. It almost dies in your throat when you watch Viktor’s slender fingers work at Jayce’s. You know it’s to help Jayce get ready for bed, but after all that you’ve seen today it was an image you weren’t sure you were supposed to be burning into your memory like you are. “Goodluck. I’ll be in the hall if you need help.” Viktor just nods, trying to get Jayce to sit still as you leave.

You can hear Viktor talking to Jayce, instructing him as you close the bedroom door. Jayce’s apartment is neat but lived in. It smelled a little of oil? And baked spices. A jacket tossed over a couch, shoes neatly lined by the front door. A table with notes and blueprints that looked similar to how he kept his own room. Stacks of books filled with sticky notes. There are a few plants around. A guitar? So much information about a person in one space. It made you wonder about Viktor’s room. If it was neater than this knowing that he barely spent any time there. As you make your way into the hall you remember that Viktor had a key, on his own key ring, to Jayce’s place. So intimate, the care they had for each other. So sweet in its normalcy. A feeling brews in your chest as you wait by the door. Overwhelming and unknown, something akin to wanting. 

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“You are drunk Jayce.” Viktor is trying his hardest to not laugh at the man in front of him, struggling to unbutton his own shirt. 

“ ‘know that.” An irritated huff, an uncommon sound for his partner. “ ‘m trying.” 

“I know you are, let me help.” It takes a few minutes to get Jayce set up for bed. Viktor leaves him in his undershirt, let’s Jayce take care of his pants despite the struggle. There’s a want brewing in him. He wants to stay here, to hold him til he sleeps, be there with water and maybe a pain reliever when he wakes up. But he doesn’t. He ignores the whine in Jayce’s throat when he goes to the kitchen to get his partner water. When he returns Jayce is out cold. Snoring softly under the covers. He leaves the water on the bedside table, watching the even breathing that moves Jayce’s chest. A hand moves to cup his cheek, rubbing a circle into the apple of it. Viktor’s heart swells when he feels the weight of Jayce push into it unconsciously. 

He joins you in the hallway shortly after. You were staring at the wall in front of you, zoning out when the closing of the door snaps you out of it. 

“Hey, he alright?” You’re leaning forward, hands by your side as you face him.

“He will be fine. Embarrassed, but fine.” Viktor was tired, the wine making him sleepy and warm. He starts walking towards his room and you follow. 

“Didn’t think he’d be a lightweight. It’s kinda-” cute. You don’t finish the sentence but it seems like Viktor agrees with you, laughing softly as his cane taps against the floor. 

“Unexpected. I did not know either when we first met. He will deny it though, if you ask it. Blames it on anything else.” He likes hearing you laugh. He likes knowing he caused it. He frowns when he realizes how short the walk is to his room. You would be leaving now. “Goodnight Ms. L/N. We shall see you in the lab tomorrow, yes?” 

“Yes. Goodnight Viktor.” Your voice is so soft, so sweet. Viktor watches as you walk down the hall, flipping through all the keys he has before finding the one for his door. He hadn’t gone to bed this early in a long time. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and he was already in his room getting ready to shower. Discarding clothes, finding ones for tomorrow. Brushing his teeth as the shower heats up. 

When he steps in it fogs up the window over his sink. The warm water soothing the aches of his body. He goes over today’s events as he lathers a shampoo through his hair. How Jayce’s teasing of you led to teasing him. And now they were… together. Officially. Finally declared as two parts of a whole, and that they both wanted you. He thinks about the wine. How it was sweet and rich and strong. How it was sweeter on Jayce when he kissed him again. How pliant Jayce was in his hands, the heat of those broad shoulders in his palms. The sounds of their kissing, teeth clacking, lips hungrier after every glass. 

He should be rinsing the soap out of his hair, he should be washing his body. The routine of putting soap to a washcloth, rubbing it between his hands to form suds lingers in the back of his mind as he continues to think of those kisses. How he could taste fermented fruit and cinnamon and Jayce. A different familiar memory cuts through the haze, much stronger this time. Of release, of teasing touches from past lovers. His imagination taking over. When Jayce tried to bed him would he touch him the same way? The shower is getting hotter, the wine on his breath despite having brushed his teeth. When he tried to bed you, would you react like he did? Would you feel the same that he and Jayce did, would you want them together? 

His hand was moving lower, lower, lower. He could feel it happening, the blood moving down, the water against it but he is surprised at how hard he is. When he moves his hand down, the tip moving past the opening of his fist he imagines your lips. How would they feel on him,  would you be experienced enough to wet them before starting. The image of you on your knees alone has him moving faster but then his thoughts wander. Would you start slow or would you try to take him all at once? Could he fist both of his hands in your hair and hold you there so could he fuck your mouth.  Or would you take the lead,  bobbing your head up and down. He imagines your hands holding it or maybe braced on his hips, fingers digging into the flesh. Would Jayce talk you through it once he knew what worked for Viktor?

He can feel it building, all too quickly.  It's been a while since he indulged himself like this.  A raspy breath falling from his chapped lips. You were so soft. Sweet. Your voice. Quiet and gentle. Would it be honeyed with a returned lust or would it be strained? Dazed like that morning he woke you? "Viktor?" It’s your voice. It’s Jayce’s. The intensity almost knocks him off balance, free hand bracing on the tiled wall as he finishes. Shooting forward onto the handles of the shower. A long burst followed by several short ones as he slows his hand. Twitching when he lets himself go.

And then the only fog he's left with is the steam of the shower. He felt faint, the shower water was too hot and he hadn't been taking full breaths. He turns a handle to make the shower cold and his hand is sticky with his release. Shame. Regret. Oh. What did he just do? He wants to blame it on Jayce’s teasing today. On the glass of wine that warmed his chest. But he knows that's not it. That it's his own depravity.

Well, he could blame all of those things. Embarrassment burns his cheeks more than the water, more than the wine. He hadn’t indulged in that in so, so long. And the realization that there would be something with Jayce in the future settles in his chest. That Jayce wouldn’t be upset with him for this. He takes a deep breath. 

More thoughts for later. Exhaustion is deep in his bones now, it had been a long day despite coming to his room early. He needs to sleep, to clean up. He lathers the rag on the hook and enjoys the rest of his shower. Tomorrow will be a new day. A good day. 

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--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 16-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[sanjoongie]

𝕺𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖓𝖊

A ~Cotton Tails and Simmering Fires~ Chapter

ღA series collab with @starlitmark

ღPairing: Dragon hybrid! Jongho x Bunny Hybrid! Reader (f)

ღGenre: smut

ღAu: hybrid au

ღTrope: poly, established relationship

ღWord Count: 3,697

ღRated: 18+ MDNI

ღWarnings: reader is described as smaller than all members (bunny hybrid), negotiation of scene, bdsm (usage of vines), use of the light system (green, yellow, red) and safe word, praise (with a condescending voice), edging, dom!jongho, sub!reader, oral (f), fingering (f), penetrative sex without a barrier, strength kink, dragon dick, mental aftercare for the dom

ღBeta's: @downtoamagicalland

ღSummary: after a few sessions with Jongho, some healing time with your fluffle, it’s about time that you and Jongho have some personal time together. This time, with no polite stops

ღAuthor’s Note: Hops is drinking the pregnancy prevention tea on the daily because with four boyfriends, you can never prepare enough 😵

ღMasterlist ღPrevious Chapter ღNext Chapter

Feeling refreshed after your in-house spa-cation with your fluffle, you take your bag with a happy sigh. 

Seonghwa slid his hand along your lower back only to cling to your hip. “Feel good to be home, Treasure?”

The black dragon’s scales sparkled wonderfully in the sun beaming through the big living room windows. You moved up on your tiptoes to place an impulsive peck on Seonghwa's cheek but he turned his face so that you kissed his lips instead. 

“Seonghwa!” You screeched goodnaturedly in protest. 

“I’m happy to have you back,” Seonghwa admitted. 

You pressed your head to his chest to hear his steady heartbeat. “You only had a small window between picking me up and your next appointment though, Hwa,” You reminded him. “You gotta go or you’ll get caught up in traffic.”

Seonghwa leaned forward to rub his nose against yours. “I miss you. We need to make some time for just the two of us, hmmm?”

A small, impish smile pulled at your lips. “Maybe I should schedule some time in your chair, hmmm?”

Seonghwa’s eyes went from twinkling lovey dovey, to sharp eyed and silver hued. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“What if I’m not joking?”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together, closed his eyes and breathed in and out. His strawberry jam smell practically pressed up against your olfactory senses, only spiking your own libido. “I’m going to be nursing a hard-on the entire drive to work. I hope you’re happy, you little tease.”

You rocked back and forth on your heels. “Just nurse?”

Seonghwa snarled halfheartedly and your heart skipped a beat by instinct alone. “Bye, Hwa,” You called out sweetly as he practically ripped the door off its hinges and left. 

You hefted your overnight bag and made your way to your room. Having been vacant from your room, it smelled less like you but surprisingly much like your boyfriends. You smiled fondly at the thought of San coming in and rubbing himself like a cat in your nest, just for you to be met with his tangy sea breeze scent. 

You gasped in delight when you found a box and a note on your work desk. It was from Yeosang. Inside the box was a string of dragon and cloud lights that made you chuckle. 

Maybe you can hang these in your room back with your fluffle next time you visit and you can think of us

-Yeosang

“Treasure?” Jongho’s loving tone pulled you out of your reverie of crushing over Yeosang. 

Deciding to drop off your overnight bag near the ensuite laundry room with plans to wash your clothes, you made your way towards Jongho’s bedroom, where his voice had come from. 

You had expected to see Jongho in his semi-professional, typical wear, sitting at his desk, making notes and humming an indiscernible tune. What you were met with was Jongho in a soft sweater and jeans, his red hair parted dashingly, sitting on his bed. He sent you an excited smile that exposed his gums, making your heart skip a beat once again. 

“C’mere, Treasure,” Jongho caressed the spot next to him, “I want to talk to you about something.”

Your nose twitched nervously. “Is everything okay?”

Once you came a few steps closer, Jongho curled an arm around your waist and pulled you down to sit nice and tight beside him. “Everything is fine. This is a serious conversation but you shouldn’t be jumping to bad conclusions. We talked about this.”

You nodded and sighed, attempting to empty out any negativity that was gnawing at your conscience. “I’m ready.”

“I would love to spend some time with you today,” Jongho said. His musky book smell permeates your nose immediately and you quickly realize what kind of time Jongho would like to spend with you.

With your polycule working through some difficulties as of late, you and Jongho had kept it pretty pg 13 between the two of you. You hadn't been in the right headspace to entertain a new sex  partner but Jongho must have judged it might be a good time to try.

“Our first time?” You gnawed at your bottom lip. 

“You can have a foursome with three other boyfriends but still get nervous at the idea of a first time?” Jongho couldn’t help but tease.

You shuddered delicately. Something about the way that Jongho seemed to be praising you but in a condescending tone flat did it for you. “Yes,” You whispered.

“Excited nervousness or anxiety nervousness, Treasure?” Jongho checked in.

“Excited,” You admitted. 

It had become something of a past time, noting the subtle differences between your dragon boyfriends. Something instinctual told you that Jongho would not be a let down.

“There are a few things I would like to speak about then, before we begin,” Jongho said with a fond business-like tone. 

Your ears moved in a satellite motion in curiosity. Of course Jongho would be the first to set boundaries and safewords, but by the way Jongho grabbed your hand and began to caress the back of it, you were feeling like he was nervous as well for what he was about to say. 

“You know I have an affinity for greenery. Although I am in complete control of it, while in the deep throws of making love…” Jongho smiled shyly almost to himself. “...it can have a mind of its own.”

You nodded eagerly. “I know you would never unconsciously hurt me. And I’m not unnerved by the way you have used your affinity since I’ve been a part of the thunder, so I’m okay with that.”

Jongho cleared his throat. “I would like your permission to manhandle you. I don’t plan on slapping or hitting you, in that regard. But I do enjoy using my strength over my partners. That includes pinning them down, moving them in positions I prefer, that sort of thing. Is that acceptable?”

Goosebumps dot your skin and you have the answer. “Yes, Jongho.”

“We will be using the color system. So read means hard-stop, yellow means to slow down or in some cases ‘I need time to consider this’, and green means continue. I’d also like a safeword, even though I don’t think we’ll get to that. I can… push boundaries when it comes to how much my partner can endure, so if you feel that you can no longer take any more teasing, then just utter the word ‘cookie’ and I’ll give you that sweet release you crave.”

You smiled sweetly at the thought of your safeword being the scent that the other’s had described to you. “I can do that,” You agreed.

“From what I understand, your initial introduction to San and Seonghwa was non-negotiated degradation sex, which I know you enjoyed, but you should know I work in a different branch of the same tree. I don’t enjoy being outright mean to my partners but there is an air of judgment. I prefer praising but you will get a sense of that you feel being below me. It’s very specific and I don’t want you to be turned off if I go that route.”

“Jongho,” You said rather huskily.

“Yes, Treasure?”

“Can you kiss me now?” You asked, your tail struggling against your dress. 

Jongho cupped one side of your face, his eyes speaking volumes on how his negotiation speech had turned him on. “I would love to.”

Jongho’s kisses always have had a slip of tongue, though it’s not overbearing. The way he coaxed it against your lips, like it was a little extra perk, made you whimper into his mouth. You moved to tuck your legs under you, to get a bit of a height advantage on the dragon hybrid but that was shot down immediately. Jongho was in charge and in no way would you be dictating anything. Jongho is quick to spin you to your back, pressing you into the bed. His kisses were full of heat but he did nothing more than that, tempting you with the promise of more.

Eventually he broke the liplock, only to kiss and suck a line down your neck. After extracting an agreement that he could mark you up, you felt the love bites bloom along your skin. Your hands meandered to dig your fingers into Jongho’s shoulder blades, needing a purchase to cling to, but even that was too much for Jongho. He moaned at the sensation of pain but you marking him was a matter not discussed and not approved.

“Treasure,” He growled gently, extracting your hands from around his body.

“I need…I need to hold onto something,” You pleaded with him.

Jongho raised your arms above your head, clasping your hands together and then entwining his own hand into yours. “I got you, Treasure.”

Jongho’s lower half pinned your body to the bed, but much to your chagrin, he didn’t use it to grind into you. His attention was solely on leaving marks all over your skin and still the both of you were clothed. Your impatience got the better of you and you started to whine about it.

“Jongho, you’re killing me,” You groaned.

Jongho laughed quietly under his breath. “I have been waiting patiently to do this, Treasure. You won’t rush me. But it’s cute that you can’t wait.”

“You won’t let me touch you,” You whined. “Can’t I have something more?”

Jongho sighed gently. “Those big eyes work on the others, don’t they?” Still, the blue dragon used his free hand to unbutton the top of your dress. You whimpered as the cool air hit your skin. 

Jongho’s eyes darken upon viewing your see-through bralette covering your tits. He could see the shadow of your nipples, however, and it made his hand move to tighten around one of your breasts. 

Your breath came out in a squeak, feeling his strength against your body. “Oh my god.”

“Color?” Jongho said gruffly.

“Green, definitely green,” You squealed.

“I know you said yes to being manhandled but I think I might have to rip this dress off you, Treasure,” Jongho grunted as he continued to squeeze your breast. 

Your breath left you lungs in a rush at how much you approved of the thought. San had bought it for you but what was the cost of another dress when you could experience Jongho becoming so overcome with lust that he ripped your dress? “Please,” You agreed immediately.

Jongho gripped two corners of the collar of your dress, and with a great yank, your dress ripped in literal half. Jongho tossed the leftovers of your dress to the floor and drank in the sight of the pastel green set you had on. Your underwear was also see-through. Jongho’s nostrils flared briefly. 

“What’s this?” His thumb caressed your mound next.

You felt your face heat up. Part of the spa day with your fluffle included getting waxed and groomed. Your pussy was completely hair-free other than a brief patch just above your clit that was in the shape of a heart. “The waxer said it was in style.”

“Treasure,” Jongho let out a low moan. 

You felt movement near your hands and glanced upwards. The vines that decorated Jongho’s headboard were growing and moving to intertwine along your hands and forearms. 

“Do you like it?” You ventured. 

To answer, Jongho pushed your thighs apart and dipped his head between them. His hands pushed down your thighs, keeping them wide open, while admiring your cunt closely. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled your scent. The room spiked with intensity as Jongho only got more turned on. 

“There’s a wet spot on your underwear,” Jongho said hoarsely. “Are you wet for me?”

“Jongho, I’m drenched,” You whimpered.

“Such a good little bunny for me,” Jongho cooed. He ran a finger up your slit and your hips bucked upwards, finally able to feel some relief. 

“God, Jongho, please!” You moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Jongho’s golden eyes moved up and down your body, taking everything you were offering to him. His index and middle finger absentmindedly moved up and down your slit, stroking and admiring the way your wet spot grew. 

“I could make you wetter,” Jongho offered. Your legs practically snapped shut on Jongho and he chuckled at your immediate response. “But I need to hear what you want.”

You babbled like an eager bunny, mind on only one thing. “Please eat me out. Please stuff me with your pretty fingers. Please hold me down and deny me and show me who is in charge. Please, I want to see my slick on your lips, I want--”

You didn’t go long, fortunately for you, because Jongho couldn't take it either. He wasn’t a complete monster, however, and clearly a fan of your lingerie. So he carefully pulled your underwear off and went to town now that your cunt was laid bare for him.

His tongue plied long licks along your folds, like he was savoring an ice cream cone. He seemed to gather your wetness on his tongue, because his eyes would close and he would hum in content. “You taste so good, Treasure. No wonder your scent is sugar cookies. You are a treat.”

You try to be good for Jongho and keep your hips down on the mattress but the measured, tantalizing licks he was running along your pussy lips was almost too good to not want more. You restricted yourself to clamping down on nothing, a plea building on your lips for more. You needed him in ways that made any of your other boyfriends flee your mind. You only had thoughts of Jongho. 

“Looking at you clenching down for me,” Jongho cooed mockingly. “Do you need me that badly, Treasure?”

“Mmmmm!” You mindlessly agreed. “I need… Jongho!”

“Use your words,” Jongho encouraged you. He took some mercy on you and placed soft, heated kisses on your inner thigh. “It’s so adorable you need me to stop eating you out in order to speak. Are you this dumb for all your boyfriends or do I get that honor solely?”

You felt your skin heat up in embarrassment. This Jongho was magnificent. “Cookies.”

Jongho pouted. “That didn’t take long.”

You struggled slightly in your vine bindings and Jongho’s yellow eyes laser-focused on the way your breasts moved with it. “I need you. Please,” You whined.

Jongho took his time removing his fluffy sweater and jeans. Your sharp intake of breath when his snake tattoo intertwining around his collarbones was revealed made the dragon smirk. The smattering of blue scales, however, dotting his body made you swallow loudly. 

“Jongho, you’re beautiful,” You found yourself saying in awe.

Jongho ducked his head, a shy smile pulling at his lips. “Thank you, Treasure, I truly appreciate that.”

Jongho crawled on the bed and laid his body between your legs once again. His arms bulged as he held himself aloft. You could feel the heat from his skin kissing yours but no amount of skin was actually in contact with your body. Both of your eyes were glued to the lower half of his body, where his cock stood proud against his stomach. 

“You’re going to enjoy this, I think,” Jongho mused out loud. “Want you cute and dumb on my cock.”

You watched with wide-eyed disbelief as Jongho simply canted his hips and his cock head split your pussy lips perfectly with no aid. His hands stayed on your breasts, squeezing. The dragon watched with blown pupils, making his molten gold irises disappear, as your breasts spilled between his fingers.

"That's it, Treasure, take all of me, there's a good girl. You can do it, right? You have three other boyfriend's who stretch you out properly, don’t you? Your pussy is good to all of them. It can be good for me too, can't it?"

The choked moan that falls from your lips sounded desperate even to your well-tuned bunny ears. "Jo-Jongho."

Jongho halted his progress pushing into you and you whined at the even look he sent to you. How is he not going out of his mind with the pleasure the two of you were creating? "Treasure?"

You pushed your lips together, trying to not yap about how you were pretty sure he was ruining you for the others. "Your cock is so good," is what you said instead and it was not any better.

Jongho chuckled throatily, his sunshine smile peaking through the lust fog of your brain. "Careful Treasure, you're gonna make a man think he's the only one in this polycule."

"I--" You swallowed but you have long lost the moisture in your mouth. "More. I need more."

Jongho canted his hips again and you moaned deeper as his cock further penetrated inside of you. "Shhh, Treasure, I'm not even fully inside of you."

The way that Jongho pushed aside your velvet-soft walls, stretching you out without a struggle on his part, was one of the most delicious feelings you had ever received. Jongho took his time, eyes closed, focused on the task at hand. No strain marred his perfect features but you couldn't help but want to kiss his pink lips as you shared being one for the first time. 

Jongho leaned in to whisper into your ear. “You’re so wet, you’re spilling out of your tiny hole. I can feel you dripping down my balls and making a mess of my pelvis. How can one bunny be so wet for her boyfriend, hmmm?”

“Jongho!” You whined in embarrassment. “Because it’s you!”

“I’m going to make you come so hard, Treasure,” Jongho chuckled lowly. “Be a good girl and be nice and loud for me.”

Jongho would grunt deep in the back of his throat when he thrusted into you. He would pull out slowly, completely, and then push back in with a sharp thrust. It was both torturous and glorious, the pace he set. It seemed that he was looking to provoke you to use your safe word again so that he would have an excuse to jackhammer you into his bed but instead you were genuinely dumb on his cock. Your sole focus was feeling his cock move in and out of you and there was no eagerness to get to your climax; you simply wanted to ride the wave that was sex with Choi Jongho. 

“Your little bunny pussy is taking me so well,” Jongho grunted. “You’ll take everything I give you, won’t you? I fucking adore this cunt.”

“It’s all for you, Jongho,” You managed to whimper. 

“Fuck,” Jongho cursed. 

Although outwardly Jongho did not seem to be struggling, the vines around your hands and arms said otherwise. They had tightened so much with your last sentence that you knew it wasn’t on the side of safe anymore.

“Jongho, it’s too tight,” You gasped. 

The vines loosened immediately even though you had been certain Jongho had not been testing you. He was just that attuned to his flora. “Sorry, Treasure. You make me lose my control.”

That sentence made you feel some type of way. The butterflies in your stomach migrated to your chest. Your blossoming love for Jongho was seeded and rooted deep inside of you but in moments like these, the love blossomed into flowers. 

Jongho knew his limits however, and now was the time. “I want you to come for me, Treasure. Come around my cock and let me feel what it’s like to take you to the highest peak imaginable.”

Jongho’s words unlocked something inside of you. Your cunt convulsed around his length immediately and you cried out with pleasure. 

“Oh fuck yes,” Jongho’s words became muffled as he bit down on his lower lip. “That’s it, little bunny, fucking milk my cock. I’m coming with you!”

Jongho let out a long, drawn out moan and stilled inside of you. His nose was scrunched up but he wasn’t the only sight to behold. You glanced up when a flash of color caught your attention. The vines on Jongho’s headrest had bloomed when he had come. It was so beautiful. 

Jongho followed your gaze and chuckled in embarrassment. “Oh yeah, they seem to do that.” 

“Jongho,” You gasped. “That was more than anything I could have imagined.”

You felt the vines completely pull back so you could get your arms back. You immediately wound your arms around Jongho’s neck. He managed, while still remaining inside of you, to sit up and cross his legs. 

“You were wonderful,” He said softly. “It wasn’t too much?”

You shook your head. “No. I loved it.”

Jongho had a lopsided grin on his face in answer to your statement. “Wanna sit like this together?” He bumped his forehead to yours fondly. “I just want to soothe myself with you.”

“I’m yours, right now, Jongho,” You found yourself reassured him.

You made a mental note that perhaps, even though Jongho wasn’t the meanest dominant in your polycule, that he might need more aftercare than your other boyfriends. “We can take all the time you need. I’m here for you, Jongho.”

His head rested on your shoulder and his tail tucked itself around your waste. “You were amazing, Treasure. You are amazing.”

The two of you rested there for a while, just drinking in each other’s presence and what you two had done together, but you lived with seven other dragons, and alone time was rare.

A brisk knock on the door made you jump and Jongho tightened his arms around your body. “Treasure? Jongho? I finished with the shower if you want it.”

You pulled back and stared at Jongho. Had San been home the entire time?

You breathed in to respond to San but Jongho cut you to the chase. “Thanks, San!”

You leaned back farther and a small smile began to pull at the corner of your lips. “Choi Jongho, are you being possessive right now?”

Jongho hugged you so tightly your breath came out in a squeal. “You said you were mine,” he grumbled.

Your tail wiggled happily. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Don’t act cute,” Jongho grumbled again.

You laughed softly, utterly pleased. You ran a hand fondly over his hair. At that moment, everything was utterly perfect.

ღMasterlist ღPrevious Chapter ღNext Chapter

[the-kr8tor]

May I have Bitter Orange in a ⭐ bottle please? The start of R and Hobie being handcuffed together before they turned, with R succumbing to the effects of the virus much faster than Hobie due to his spiderpowers, so for a bit he just watches his love become a husk of who they were before he too is a zombie?

*laughs evily* Yessss I've been waiting for a request exactly like this hwjsjwijsjaj hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2k (whoops)

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), description of illness, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, zombie AU, Zombie apocalypse AU. Angst, Hurt/comfort

A prequel to this one shot

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The air is nice and cool on your face as you walk hand in hand with Hobie in the barren street. There's rows upon rows of abandoned houses, all in different stages of decay from both scavengers trying to survive and time itself proving to be the worst enemy. But it's on your side for now for it has given you infinite time to be with him.

Hobie's hand is suddenly on your scarf, fingers gingerly sliding the fuzzy material up to your chin. He smiles at you, the sun blindingly light behind him. Despite the apocalypse, he still looks just as handsome. He has new shallow scars on his chin where a stubble is slowly growing, hair a bit of a mess but beautiful nonetheless. You've once told him after a lucky find of one whole pound of chocolate pudding that he's apocalypse chic, that he makes the end of the world look good. To which he laughed and shoved a spoonful of chocolate pudding in your mouth. Compared to him you probably look like a mess, you wouldn't know, you've ignored mirrors ever since you ran out of shampoo a few days ago.

“What are you thinkin' ‘bout, gorgeous?” He tugs you closer to him, the crowbar hanging from his backpack clinks against the machete next to it.

“That I really need shampoo, and that you look unfairly handsome in this light.”

Chuckling, he intertwined his fingers around your own. It could mean death for the both of you if the undead suddenly lunges and he doesn't have enough time to take his hand away from you. But he thinks it's alright for him to do, to indulge himself to your touch since the entire place is empty save for a few dead cars and scattered luggages left by people.

“You should see yourself in my eyes, lovie, the greasy hair is doin' a lot for me.”

“Oh yeah? You like it when you pat my head and you get petrol on your hand?”

“We need petrol, d’you think if I bunch up your hair and squeeze it I can collect the oil?”

You nudge him playfully, “you're an ass.”

“Yeah, well, you're stuck with this arse.”

Your mind goes back to your friends and family you've left behind. “Do you think they're okay?”

“'m sure they are, Yuri's got them, and they have Ned, he'll whip them into shape. ‘sides, we're almost at James’, if I was them I'd stay there.” He adjusts his hold on his pack and guitar. “We'll find them.”

You smile, nuzzling his bicep for his own reassurance, knowing that he also worries for them. “You're right. They're probably doing better than us.”

“Yeah,” he pecks the crown of your head. “They're living like kings, I bet.”

You two stop in front of a large house, complete with white marble steps and tall roman columns. “James' dad never had taste, huh?”

Hobie snorts, “his son took all of it. C’mon, then.” He leads you on the porch, trying the door, wishing that it was locked because if it is it means that someone's inside, that they're surviving and waiting for the two of you. To his despair, the door opens without a problem.

Hobie looks back at you having the same expression. “It's okay,” you try to be optimistic, “maybe they left a message for us.”

He nods, “yeah, maybe.” Crossing the abandoned space, he takes his guitar from his back to strum a tune. When he doesn't hear stumbling or any rattling from anywhere inside the house, he continues forward, but his guard is still up. “We might as well get some supplies while we're ‘ere.”

“Yeah, there might be some left in here.” You give him a small smile. “How about we split up? This place is too big, it'll take us forever to comb over this place.”

Hobie considers it for a moment. The place seems pristine except for the furniture and cabinets that are picked clean, so he deems it safe. “Okay, just…” you walk to his side, rubbing his arms, smiling sweetly at him even though he probably doesn't smell the best. “...keep your knife close.”

“I will keep my knife close,” you repeat his words, “and I'll stay alert.” Poking at his chest, you peck the frown off his lips. “And you keep safe.”

He's still apprehensive, but he knows you can hold your own. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you fully, smooching until you're giggling. “We’ll meet back ‘ere in fifteen.”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n!” You mock salute. “Any special requests?”

“Chocolates.”

“I said a request, not wishful thinking.” You tease, he has an urge to kiss you again.

“Towels, the nice fluffy ones.” You slide your hands away from him, to which he already longs for.

“Got it! I bet James has a ton of them.” You wink, knife in hand, walking away from him.

Hobie watches your retreating back, tamping down his anxieties. He searches upstairs, grinning at James' familiar room. His posters and messy floors remain untouched, the bed still looking like it was tossed around by a tornado. He almost cries at the picture frame on the bedside table containing his band's smiling faces plus you who's embracing him.

Turning the frame around, he takes the picture and pockets it to show to you. After rummaging James' room, he takes a few shirts and pants for him and you. He even finds a pair of silk pajamas that he knows you'll love. A piercing scream echoes around the house, he immediately bolts downstairs, heavy footsteps thudding across marble floors.

You're on your back, fighting for your life while the undead on top of you tried to get a chunk out of you. It all stops when Hobie's guitar connects to the corpse's skull in a sickening crunch of metal and bone.

You scramble away, neck and arm in pain. Hobie's wide eyes meet yours just as when the back door bursts open, revealing a whole horde of the undead. Panicking, he yanks you up, holding your hand, running outside to more of the shambling dead.

“Fuck!”

“Hobie!”

“Just hold on!” His hand is tight around yours, you try to run at his pace, panic in your veins, adrenaline in his.

It feels like you've been running forever, Hobie sees an opening hidden in an alley. He can climb on his own without a ladder but you can't. So he leads you towards the empty alley while the rotten, decayed corpses of once human beings run after you at full speed.

Hobie jumps to take down an emergency ladder, without missing a beat, he grabs your waist and throws you on the ladder. You climb, but the pain in your arm gets worse so you're slower but you still try for him.

The undead finally gets to the alley, you don't dare to look down. Once you're on the rooftop, you peek below to see him struggling to get up the ladder, he's halfway with a handful of zombies dangling on his leg.

You scream his name but it's too late, one of the undead has bitten a chunk of his leg as he tries to kick the former human off the ladder where he's desperately trying to climb to. You wish he didn't run out of web fluid, you wish the world didn't end, you wish the throbbing pain on your arm is just muscle spasm, but the warm crimson seeping out of teeth marks says differently.

With a sickly crunch, the zombie falls down the ladder and into the rotten horde. Hobie climbs up quickly back to you, hands immediately grasping on to you.

“Did it get you?!” You yell, still in denial, frantically checking in hopes that his boot saved him. Your heart falls into your stomach at the sight of broken skin, blood staining your fingers where you hold the hem of his trousers away to get a better look. You're frozen on the spot, tears clinging to your lashes. “Hobie,” you gasp, taking off your scarf to make a makeshift tourniquet around and above the bite. “Fuck—!”

“You okay?!” He does the same to you, heaving, ripping off your sleeves like a madman trying to find the secrets hidden in your skin. He prays that he finds none. His eyes widen, terrified, broken hearted, shaking his head, refusing the fact that you're infected. “No,” he shakes his head again, closing the torn up cloth around the slowly rotting wound. “It's just a scratch, love, y-you’re not—”

“Hobie…” you smile bitterly, eyes mirroring his own. He rips the hem of his shirt, using the cloth to wrap it around your arm, just above the wound in an attempt to stop the spread. He ignores the stinging pain on his leg. “Hobie, stop, it's—”

“We can still stop it!” He yells desperately, tying the cloth tightly. “It's just a scratch.”

“Hobie, please.” You hold his trembling hands, “it has been ten minutes.” He refuses, you squeeze his hand weakly, the virus already taking hold. Slowly killing you. “And—” with trembling hands, you show him the gaping bite on your neck, oozing dark decaying blood. He choked on a sob. “B-but there's a chance for you, your abilities might've made you immune—”

“No, if you're goin’, ‘m goin’” He stands up, not giving up on you. “There's a chemist’s ‘ere, maybe if w-we…” he puts on a brave face amidst the impending doom and rotten flesh that stings his nose. “Maybe there's somethin’ there.” Hand reaching down, you smile up at him, orange and pink hues from the sky dancing around your face. “C-can you get up?” His voice breaks, chest heaving. “I can carry you. Don't make me carry you, love.”

You slide your hand onto his own. “Hobie,” your voice is soft above the mindless groaning below. His eyes beg you to move. So you do. “Okay,” with a single word, you bring him hope.

With divided effort, you both make it towards the roof of the pharmacy. He was uncharacteristically silent the whole way, but his hand never left yours. His eyes never met with your wounds that's slowly festering. You feel it inside you, the fever, the virus that's eating at you, spreading throughout your body, gnawing at every bit of your warmth like a seed taking root. Hobie feels it too, he's terrified that you're experiencing it too. It's his worst fears came to life only because he wasn't fast enough.

Opening the creaky door, he hopes that it's devoid of the undead. Like he's not on the brink of eating flesh, he does his usual prep. He strums his guitar softly to attract any walking corpses waiting behind doors, when none comes out, he cracks the door wider. With his torch, he lights up the way. But he doesn't feel your presence behind him.

Looking over his shoulder was a mistake, he finds you hunched over the doorway, groaning quietly, nails clawing at the throbbing wound around your neck. That's the moment he knew that you'd go out before him. For the first time, he curses his gifts.

Slowly, he crosses the distance towards you, shaking hands grasping your shoulders. You're warm, incredibly warm. “Love?” He could cry, but he doesn't want you to see his sorrow.

You sniff, tears streaming down your face from the pain and the tragedy of it all. You've accepted that you were infected, but not him, you'd take the virus from him too if you could. “I'm s-sorry, so fucking sorry. I should've—”

“Oi, none of that, yeah? You're gonna be fine.” He says it to convince himself. “You'll be back on your feet tomorrow and by then we'll see Yuri and the others.” Nodding, he takes you by your arm, careful of making your wounds worse. There's blood sticking to his clothes, seeping through his clammy skin. He hates the fact that it was yours. Bringing you behind the counter, you almost keep over. “I've got you, I've got you.” He says it against your temple like a prayer.

“H-Hobie.” You sob, salty tears marring your pretty face. “I can't— it hurts.” The gnawing feeling gets worse, as if a chainsaw is ripping you apart from the inside. “It's so hot, I–I can't breathe.”

“O-okay, I'll set you down ‘ere, get you comfortable. There's some fever meds over there. It'll help.” His hazel eyes pleads for anyone, anything that'll help you. He helps you sit down, and you immediately lie down on the cold tiles. “Do you want a blanket?”

“N-no,” you're hot and cold at the same time. “I don't know.” You look up at him, he sees the light in your eyes fading. “I don't feel so good, Hobs.”

Hobie could only look away from you, inhaling, exhaling but it doesn't feel like he's breathing right. He kneels down, setting his guitar next to you, palm placed on your forehead. “This is nothing, love.” He tries to smile, but fails. “Remember when you had the flu?” You nod weakly, “you were a fuckin' beast, you beat it on your own in just a few days.”

Even though you feel your heartbeat going faster and then slowing down in a weird rhythm like a heartbeat monitor going haywire, you smile for him. “I was, wasn't I?”

He rubs your bicep, under his touch, he feels your muscle twitch. “Yeah, you still are.”

You chuckle softly, tears sliding down your cheeks and into the cold tiles. “Okay, get me the meds.”

“That's my girl,” laying his forehead atop yours, he hopes that he'll take your pain away with the simple gesture, but it's futile. “I'll be back, I promise.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

Smiling, he squeezes your arm. “Never.” Standing up, he rummages through the entire place for the pills you need. Crouching down to check under the broken shelves, climbing up on the walls to get a bird's eye view, and all the while ignoring his own pain. It's slim pickings, but he manages to find a single bottle of tylenol that has rolled under a shelf, it's not enough, but it'll do.

With a victorious sigh, he quickly makes it to the counter, rounding the corner, he sees you wheezing, catching your breath and with blood leaking out from your eyes and ears. “No, no, no!” He takes you in his arms, making you sit up. “I've got the meds, love. Oi, open your eyes for me.” You crack one eye open tiredly. “That's it, good job.” He almost cries when you smile at him through the thick fog of illness.

“G-good job,” you murmur, he doesn't know if you're delirious or you're congratulating him for finding the medicine.

“Bottoms up.” He brings two pills to your mouth, to which you gladly take. Giving you his canteen, you drink most of it, downing the tepid water. “That's good, see, you're already gettin' better.”

You shake your head weakly, barely opening your eyes. “Thanks to you, Hobie.”

“Yeah, thanks to me.” He tries to joke but it comes out choked when blood still leaks out of your tear ducts. Sitting next to you, he now feels his temperature rise so he takes the same amount of pills as you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, hand shakily reaching towards his own. “I'm sorry.”

He almost breaks down at your apology. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.” Meeting your hand halfway, he intertwined his fingers with yours, you're cold now, frozen under his hold. “D’you want that blanket now?”

“Please,” you wheeze out.

Hobie obliges, taking a thick blanket from his pack and then draping it around you as if it'll protect you from the infection. “There, nice and cozy, eh?”

“Thank you,” he feels your crimson fall down on his collar. “For everything.”

“None of that, Y/N, please. None of that.”

“I still want to talk to you.” Your voice is soft and small. “I still want to stay with you.”

Hobie brings your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “And we will be, after this—” a sob escapes from him. “After this, we'll be together, yeah? Just like how we talked about.”

“Forever and ever?”

His tears flow freely, “yeah, forever and ever.” After a beat of silence, he fears the worst. “Love?”

You cough, he sighs in relief. “Still here, Hobs, not leaving yet.”

“Not yet,” embracing you, he lays his chin atop your head, you're made comfortable in his hold. Home, you feel like you're back home in his houseboat, watching a shitty romcom while he rambles on about his patrol. You want to be back there again. He wants to be back there again. “Can I say somethin'?”

You hum into his chest, squeezing his hand tighter but your sickness, he barely felt it.

“I don't want to…” he could barely say it. “I don't want to kill you. ‘m sorry, I know we talked about it—”

You lean up, he's met with milky eyes, he knows you can barely see him now. “Then don't, I don't want you to—” you pause, clinging to humanity. “— to feel that before you go.”

Nodding, he kisses your forehead, crying, weeping into your skin. “I couldn't save you, ‘m so fuckin' sorry, love, ‘m so sorry.” He shakes, you gather enough strength to embrace him and bury yourself in his chest, letting his scent waft around you for comfort.

“Don't apologize, nothin' to apologize for.”

He sniffs, peppering your face with heavy weakened kisses. “Oi, don't use my own words against me.”

You smile against the rough leather of his jacket. “Can I say something?”

“Go,” he can practically see the countdown. “We have all the time in the world, love.” There's something warm leaking out of his eyes and ears. He's catching up to you.

You'd laugh but you can feel your life slipping through your fingers. “When we turn, I don't want us to be separated.”

“What do you propose?” He tries to inhale but he could only let out a sickening cough.

“Tie our hands together…really tight.” Your words fade away, but you still hold on.

“I've got rope here, I can do it now.”

“But I'll turn first, Hobie, I-I might—”

“It'll be my honour to be your first meal.”

“I'd laugh if we weren't dying right now.” Eyes too tired to open, you feel the rough rope around your wrist, and the unmistakable sound of a knot getting tied. You smile for the last time when you feel his fingers wrap around your own. “I love you.”

“How's that? Too tight?” He whispers close, he feels you slipping away, “Y/N? Love?” he breaks down when your hand falls limp around his own. “Not yet, please, not yet.” He holds you, rocking you back and forth like a babe needing to be held. Your heart doesn't beat in sync with his anymore. “C’mon, not yet, we still have to find the rest of the band, right?” His eyes cloud over, cold taking root inside his entire body. “Say somethin’, fuck!” He yells with all his might, “I love you, fuck, please wake up.”

Closing his eyes, he wraps you in what's left of his warmth. “Don't go, please.” Hobie pleads and cries until he can no longer breathe the same air as you. His last thoughts were of you.

[newtgf]

hey I was wondering if you could write some sort of next x reader where they both like eachother and the other doesn’t know, maybe a new boy comes up and newt gets jealous? x

CAN’T HIDE MY LOVE | NEWT X READER

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summary: you and Newt have been good friends since the first day you came up from the box, but you couldn’t hide the obvious flirt and jokes around the two of you, embarrassed to actually admit that are in love, living without actually knowing. One day, like every month, a new guy comes up in the maze and you two seems to get along together really well but you notice that something is changing in Newt’s behavior.

warnings: nothing if not a little bit of angst and obviously fluff.

a/n: i really love this and thank you so so much for the request! I’ll try to do my best! (this is my first request hope you’ll enjoy).

a/n 2: i just finished writing this and it came out a little angst hope you won’t mind!!

p.s. I received another request much similar to this one but with Gally! Currently working on it so stay tuned!!

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You were relaxing, leaning your back on a tree trunk as you looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, the breeze of the maze was brushing your hair from your face. Your thoughts cut off as you heard a voice talking to you.

“Mh? sorry i didn’t catch that” you said, lifting your body up as you looked at Newt, standing in front of you with a big ass machete in his hand.

“I said that a hand here would be much appreciated” Newt repeated as he kept looking at you with a smug expression.

“doing what? you lost your bet and now it’s your turn chopping off those tree roots.. silly” you immediately replied crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

“fuck off that bloody bet, come on y/n.. you can’t actually believe you were gonna stand there doing nothing if not looking at me doing all the job here” He looked at you once again, this time getting closer to you.

“Well i think it’s kinda entertaining” you chuckled at him, the sun making you close your eyes a little as you looked up to look at Newt. “I feel like a princess watching his serve” you added proudly.

“you already are a princess y/n” He smiled softly as he offers his hand in front of you, helping you getting up.

You chuckled once again “Yea? You mean princess of dirty clothes and trunks-” You mumbled in a joking manner as he handed you another machete.

Newt chuckles too before nudging you jokingly “I can be your Prince if you don’t mind- but i have to admit being your serve could’ve been quite interesting” he grins.

Your cheeks were now of a pinkish color as you looked down a little nervous for what he just said.

“If you ins-“ You were about to say something but the voices of the other gladers interrupted you. The both of you looked around as a loud sound came from the center of the glade, it was an odd familiar sound. The box.

You all were standing there around the box, Alby was holding by his arm a new boy, and like everyone during their first day, he looked confused and disorientated.

“Welcome greenie, I’m Alby, I’m the leader here” Alby’s voice was reassuring. “and this… this is the glade, and from now on we are your family” He added before looking at you.

“Do you mind showing him around? I have something to discuss with Gally and Newt so i’ll leave him to you alright?”

You nodded, you were kinda surprised but excited at the same time, Newt gave you a little smile as he glanced at the greenie with a gulp before walking away with the others.

You cleared your throat “Well uhm- I’m y/n and what you see around us, it’s the glade- like Alby just said” you smiled

“glade-? what is this place, w-why am i here?” He looked around before looking at you again with lost.

“honestly i don’t know much either… we should ask to the bastards that decided to put us here” You chuckled as you looked down.

“The only thing you’ll remember is your name- i remembered it after a few days but..it’s different for everyone” You shrugged.

You had to admit he was quite cute, not your exactly type but he was an enjoyable person, with a funny personality.

The both of you kept walking around the glade for a couple of hours, showing him all the places as he already felt like this was now his family.

After you returned to the others, you decided to rest before the night, a new greenie arrived and that only meant that we were going to celebrate.

Skiptime

You woke up at the sound of people laughing and celebrating the arrival of the new greenie as you noticed that they already started without you. After fixing your hair a little you went to join the others.

“Y/n finally!!” Alby smiled at you, he was with Thomas, the new greenie and Newt. You smiled. “We were exactly talking about you! and here you are” Alby chuckled.

“Yea- it’s seems like you’ve impressed someone” Newt rolled his eyes with a sigh, glancing at the greenie before walking away.

You gulped and looked at him from afar “What is wrong with him today? I barely saw him if not this morning..” you looked at the others.

Alby shrugged before looking at Thomas “He’s just-“ he stopped before looking around “you should talk to him” he said.

“I won’t if he’s acting like this” you scoffed at him before taking the greenie by the arm and walked away. “So how you feeling? Met everyone?” The two of you started talking again.

You spent all night with him, laughing and drinking, but you couldn’t hide the fact that you were thinking about Newt, searching for him with your gaze all night, but couldn’t find him anywhere. It was ruining your night.

The two of you were now sitting next to the others, the light of a big campfire lighting up the center of the glade.

“I’ll go to sleep” you cleared your throat, getting up from sitting on the ground with the new boy.

“Already?” he immediately asked. “I don’t- i don’t feel well” you sighed as you looked around, still hoping to see Newt somewhere. But he wasn’t here.

“I’ll come with you then, there’s no fun without you.” He grabbed you by your arm.

“I-“ you looked at his hand grabbing your arm before moving aside. “I’m sorry I wanna spend some time alone, you should talk to the others, they all funny”

After that you walked away, looking for Newt, and finally you saw him laughing with Minho and Thomas sitting on their hammocks.

You really wanted to come talk to him about what happened earlier but something stopped you.

Maybe because he looked normal now, or because after all you were scared to talk to him.

You gulped before shaking your head and taking a deep breath, you looked at him once again before noticing he was looking at you too. Your heart skipped a beat. Why were you feeling like that?

You kept the eye contact for a few seconds before he suddenly sighed and looked away. Mumbled something that you couldn’t understand.

You were standing alone in the gaze, didn’t want to go to sleep now since your hammock was next to them, what were you supposed to do now?

You sighed as the glades breeze started to feel a bit colder than usual. You started walking to your usual spot, where you and Newt would sit next to a trunk and talk for hours.

“you okay?” you heard the greenie’s voice in the back. Did he followed me?

“God you scared me” you sighed with a smile as you looked up at him.

“Sorry- i was worried” he sat next to you.

You looked at him, sitting where Newt usually sit, a feeling of guilt was now increasing inside of you.

“I’m fine. I just want to sleep now” you replied back, snuggling up in your arms.

“You’re sleeping here?” he looked at you, his tone a little confused.

“Yes, it’s my favorite place. It’s not the first time” you mumbled. “Sorry if I sound rude but I wanna sleep alone” you added.

“Of course- then.. i’ll go away once you fall asleep” the greenie said softly before you actually fell asleep after some minutes of silence.

Skiptime

The next morning you woke up alone, you looked around as you realized where you fell asleep yesterday night. You yawned as you moved the blanket that was covering your body, and then you realized. A blanket?

“I didn’t have a blanket with me yesterday night” you mumbled to yourself, confused you stroke your eyes and got up, holding the blanket with you as you were about to bring it back to someone.

You started thinking. The greenie was with me last night but Newt is the only one that knows that place not counting me and him. It could’ve been him. And yet again you felt your heart skipping a beat, it was almost a day that the two of you stopped talking, not even knowing why though.

You missed him.

You took another long deep breath, trying to not thinking about it as you started walking around the glade, when you saw Chuck waking up when he heard you.

“Sorry Chucks, didn’t mean to wake you up” you said while putting down the blanket on your hammock, giving him a little smile.

“Don’t worry y/n i had to wake up anyway” he looked at you before clearing his throat. “So..You spent the night with Newt?” he asked with a chuckle.

“What? no!” you blushed immediately, why he asked that? you gulped.

“Why? Did he told you something?” you sat in front of him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No- I just heard him talking about you with the others, and since the both of you weren’t here last night…” he looked around, swinging his legs around sitting on his hammock.

“He wasn’t with me” you immediately replied. “I fell asleep somewhere in the glade after the celebration” you added.

“But that’s Newt’s blanket” he looked at the blanket you just brought here.

“What” your eyebrows relaxed in a realization way. You stayed silent for a while.

“Whatever happened between you two, fix it.” he said seriously. “Don’t tell me anything happened cause i know when something’s wrong and y/n-”

He stopped talking before looking at you. “I know you like him, it’s obvious” your cheeks becoming red for every word he was saying. You stayed silent and decided to not speak.

“Talking of the devil..” Chuck looked at you, he nudging you before walking away. You looked up and saw Newt coming to your direction. You gulped and felt a shiver of nervousness down your spine.

“Where have you been tonight?” he immediately asked, he sounded mad but you could feel a bit of worry in his voice.

“Not even saying hi” you mumbled, looking away. He ignored me yesterday and now he’s worrying about me? And i’m the one who need to fix whatever is happening? absolutely not.

He stayed silent.

I looked up at him, “Why you asking if you already know? I was at our spot, you brought me a blanket” you said almost proud of yourself.

He stopped doing what he was doing and locked his eyes on you.

“Yea i was looking for you, but then i saw that you were at our spot with your new friend” he kept looking at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I- He followed me!” you immediately said. He didn’t seem to be interested in what you were saying though.

“So i came back later and you were alone! sleeping in the cold and that’s why i brought you a blanket!” he yelled looking at you up and down.

“He followed me Newt! I didn’t mean to show him our place!” you said, this time louder.

“Oh yeah of course” he rolled his eyes “Then- sorry my fault” he said sarcastically as he cleared his throat.

“What is happening to you? You are seeing things that aren’t happening!” you snatched back, grabbing his arm.

He looked at you again, you could feel that something was wrong, his eyes a little swollen.

“He said you told him you weren’t feeling well and he decided to check on you” he stopped for a second. “He told me to go away cause everything was going great”

He kept looking at you. “He told me to go away from our spot y/n!”

You looked down, not realizing what actually happened. You two stayed silent for a few seconds.

“Well at least he followed me and decided to check on me, while you didn’t” you looked up at him.

“You saw me. We looked at each other while i was coming here, you even said something. But still- you stayed there. If you really wanted to check on me you could’ve come, but you did not”

“I did” he snatched back.

“It was too late” you added as you took his blanket that was next to you and threw it to him. “And you can keep it!” you yelled before walking away.

While you were walking away you felt your eyes watering, your breath becoming shorter as you immediately felt guilty for everything you said. Buy you were so confused at the same time. I know i overreacted but why did he ignore me like that yesterday?

You decided to take a break, to not think about it all. Everything is going to be okay anyway, with or without Newt. You took a deep breath as your daily routine finally started like every other day.

Skiptime

It’s been 4 days since the last time you spoke to Newt. You caught him looking at you every now and then, especially when you were with the new boy. You two were always silent though, acting like you don’t even know each other, but it was terrible. Deep down you missed him, you missed him so much that it was hurting.

That night you were going at your spot, you decided to not come back there after what happened, but you needed some time for yourself.

When you arrived, Newt was sitting there in silent, throwing little rocks away while thinking to himself.

You took a deep breath before getting closer. He looked up at you and stayed silent.

“Can i?” you asked him before sitting.

“There’s no sign saying that you’re not allowed to stay here” he replied, looking away.

You sat there, the silence was loud but you missed him, you missed this. Staying in silent here while appreciating the presence of yourselves. Then you finally decided to speak.

“So.. wanna talk about it?” you looked around. “About what?” he mumbled. “You know” you nudged him. He sighed without replying.

“Stop ignoring me Newt!” he looked at you.

“Me? Ignoring you? You’ve spending an awful lot of time with.. him- completely forgetting about my existence!” he gulped, looking at you dead in the eyes.

“I didn’t forget about you! Come on you’re overreacting now” you wrapped your arms around your legs.

“You obviously don’t understand. You keep not understanding” he mumbled.

“Understand what?”

He ignored you.

You grabbed his arm and shook it. “Newt!”

“Everything! Can’t you see the way he looks at you? The flirting? The way he’s always next to you everywhere you go!” he almost yelled at you.

You looked at him, mouth a little open as you didn’t know what to say.

“He’s not- Wait what…- Are you jealous?” you mumbled the last words.

He looked away, his cheeks turning red a little as he heard what you said.

“I’m not jealous” Newt mumbled. “It’s just not fair, you’re giving him all the attention you used to give to me!” he finally looked at you again.

“I- I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking” You said softly, slowly rubbing your thumb on his arm.

He took a deep breath. “Y/n come on.. you’re literally blind” he smiled to himself.

You looked at him, tilting your head to the side “Blind?” you repeated.

“This is not how imagined this but… i like you y/n i really do” his eyes softened while talking, looking at your eyes waiting for a reaction.

You gulped, your heart beating more than fast. “Wait- Newt what-“ you couldn’t think straight right now. You kept looking at him as your cheeks turned red, you’ve never been this nervous in your entire life.

You turned your whole body around, facing him. “Why didn’t you told me..” you whispered. His eyes moving from on of your eyes to another.

“I was scared, mad, everything.. especially jealous” he said softly, slowly placing his right hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb on your jawline.

You looked at him, your eyes glancing at his lips for a second. “I think i like you too” you mumbled.

His lips curving into a little smile before getting closer to you, gently pulling you from your chin into a kiss. A slow kiss.

After some seconds you looked at him, he was smiling like a baby. “You don’t know how much i wanted to do this” he mumbled.

You chuckled before kissing him again, your fingers brushing his hair as you pulled him closer to you.

“Do you wanna come back?” you mumbled to him. “Can’t we spend the night here?” he smiled. “I think we could” you chuckled before he wrapped his arms around you.

[bobbile-blog]

Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.

I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.

So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.

Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.

Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.

But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.

This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it”.

But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.

I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.

Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.

[daretoassume]

we all felt like as though everything is going wrong, and there is nothing you can do about it, that it is simply out of your control. when a problem arises, another one seems to follow, and the only option may seem to be is to just surrender.

we have all encountered such moments, as they are a natural part of the process. when you are unsure why it is happening, especially when you feel you do not deserve it, you may question what you did to warrant such circumstances. this can lead you to perceive yourself as a victim of life, circumstances, and reality.

you may feel helpless, thinking that you should have done something but cannot because it is too complicated. then another problem appears, connected to the first. the second problem might not exist if the first had not occurred. you never imagined life would turn out this way.

what should you do when problems occur?

in general, people tend to bottle things up. we prefer to deny that our lives are falling apart. whether consciously or unconsciously, we may turn to addictions, complain about them, or attempt to control the situation even more. some people handle it healthily by expressing their emotions through crying, confiding in a trusted friend, or surrendering.

what type of person are you when dealing with problems? it is important to understand this because you may either engage in negative behaviors that attract more of the same or surrender, recognizing that it is futile to control what is beyond your control.

what happens when you focus on things you cannot control?

when you focus on things you cannot control, you will likely become more worried, disappointed, and angry. these emotions increase your stress levels. as stress mounts, you may feel hopeless and helpless. feeling this way can place you in a victim mode, which, if prolonged, will attract more of what you are experiencing. viewing it this way reveals a pattern.

“something happens, and you get angry; something else happens, and you get angry again; something else happens, and once again, you get angry, but you never go beyond getting angry. what good does that do?” ♱ you can heal your life, louise hay

so, how do we let go of things we cannot control?

go inward

things are easier said than done, but when external reality appears chaotic, it is time to go inward. reflect. accept that uncertain things are occurring. the more you resist, the more you will suffer.

ask yourself why you are triggered in that situation, why you allow your outer world to control your feelings, and what you can do to improve your state of mind.

listen to your intuition

sometimes, when things seem out of control, your intuition is trying to communicate a message to you. try to listen. the more you tune out the outside world, the more clarity you will gain internally. greater internal clarity will help you feel calmer.

listen to what your intuition is saying, perhaps it is advising you to care for yourself because you have been so busy, or maybe it suggests watching that movie you have been planning to see. sometimes, it is the small things that matter. listening to your intuition helps you slowly accept what is happening in your life.

be present

"now" is the only time that exists. our mind naturally wanders without intending to, but if your thoughts and emotions are filled with anything other than the present, how can you truly rest your mind? find peace in knowing that you have everything you need now. the only thing you need to understand is to be in the now. you can only be in control with the past and future when you are fully present in the "now." if you are trying to solve a problem and require a solution now, recognize that feelings of desperation and frustration will not do anything but produce those same emotions.

“no problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.” ♱ albert einstein

your job, finances, and studies are important, but so are you. life can be very busy, but try to find some time for yourself, to quiet the external voices and listen to your inner voice. everything we see is temporary, including problems; in a few weeks or months, they will likely resolve on their own.

remember that where your focus is, energy flows. do you want your energy to be centered around problems, or do you prefer it to be focused on the life you have always dreamed of? 𓍯 entryfromsane001 (extracted from the old blog two years ago)