#sorry for disappearing for a week this was why

[jxmis]

Lose You To Love Me

Pairings: Yu Jimin / Karina x Reader

Summary: Everything changed between Y/N and Jimin after Milan Fashion Week. Months later, Y/N, now in New York, releases their first song, an emotional track that reveals their heartbreak, making Jimin realize her mistake too late.

Warning(s): heavy angst, toxic behavior, male being is mentioned

A/N: sorry in advance 😭 I also still suck at summarizing 😅 header photo is not my best work… did it during work cuz i was bored 😆 and look at me not disappearing again after i post a fic 🤭

Inspired by Lose You To Love Me by Selena Gomez ❤️‍🩹

The night air in New York carried a sharp chill, but Y/N barely noticed. Their fingers hovered over the play button on their phone, hesitating. The song was finished. Every lyric bled from the pain Jimin had left behind.

The world had already moved on.

Aespa’s Karina and Actor Lee Jae-Wook reportedly engaged?

The headline was everywhere. But Y/N wasn’t sure if they’d ever move on.

Not when they could still remember how it all fell apart.

5 MONTHS AGO

“This is a big opportunity, baby.” Jimin’s voice crackled through the speaker, excitement laced in every word. “Milan Fashion Week. I’ll be sitting front row next to designers, actors—people who could open doors for me.”

Y/N smiled, despite the uneasy feeling curling in their gut. “I’m happy for you, babe. I just…” They hesitated. “I wish I could come with you.”

“I wish you could too.” A beat of silence. “We’ll celebrate when I’m back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimin left the next morning.

And when she returned, something between them had changed.

At first, it was subtle. The late-night texts that used to be filled with love were now short and mechanical. The phone calls grew shorter, her voice distant.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Y/N said one evening as they sat across from each other in Jimin’s room.

Jimin barely looked up from her phone. “Just busy.”

“It’s not just that.” Y/N swallowed hard. “Did something happen in Milan?”

Jimin tensed, but her answer was smooth. “Nothing happened. You’re overthinking.”

But Y/N could see the cracks forming. The way Jimin’s mind was elsewhere. How she flinched when Y/N reached for her hand.

➽───────

A few days later, the final blow came.

“I don’t think this is working anymore.” Jimin’s voice was quiet, but her words rang louder than anything Y/N had ever heard.

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Jimin exhaled, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I just… I don’t feel the same way anymore.”

“Since when?” Y/N’s voice cracked. “Since Milan?”

Jimin hesitated. That was all the confirmation Y/N needed.

“I thought we were okay,” Y/N whispered. “I thought we were forever.”

Jimin looked away. “I’m sorry.”

And just like that, everything they had built crumbled.

It only took a few days. A blurry photo surfaced—Jimin and Jaewook leaving a restaurant together, his hand resting on her lower back.

Y/N stared at the screen, numb. The articles speculated, fans theorized, but nothing was confirmed.

Not yet.

But two months later, Dispatch made sure the whole world knew. Sharing evidence that couldn’t be mistaken as another one of Dispatch’s fake news. It’s too real to deny.

Aespa’s Karina and Actor Lee Jae-Wook: Korea’s New Power Couple

Y/N felt sick. Seeing all the pictures with dates and timestamps. Anonymous workers giving details of what was supposed to be private date nights between Jimin and Jaewook. All of it were exposed.

Jimin had replaced them. After two months. And this time, there was no coming back.

➽───────

Aeri knocked on Y/N’s apartment door the day after the Dispatch article dropped.

“Checking to see if I’m still breathing?” Y/N joked, stepping aside to let Aeri in.

Aeri sighed, sitting on the couch. “Something like that.”

“Thanks Gi.. I’m good don’t worry.” But Aeri doesn’t buy it. Skipping the common “Are you okay?” or “How are you?” questions with these type of situations. Why would she ask questions she already knew the answer to. Knowing your answers would also be bullshit anyways.

Aeri hesitated before asking, “So… what now? What’s next for you?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “A label in New York reached out. They want me as a producer.”

Aeri’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! Wait, that means you’re moving?” With this, Aeri looked around Y/N’s apartment. Finally noticing how empty it looks. Boxes filled with Y/N’s belongings in the corner of the living room.

You chuckle but your eyes filled with sadness. “Yeah.. they’ve actually been offering me this opportunity for a while now. I just always declined it because…”

“Of Jimin,” Aeri says finishing Y/N’s sentence.

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. There’s nothing left for me in Korea. Nothing keeping me here.” They exhaled, the weight of their words settling in. “I think it’s time to start over—to finally put myself first. I really thought… we could fix this. That she just needed time and space. But I guess I was wrong. I should’ve known better instead of waiting around like an idiot.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Aeri cut in. “No one saw this coming. Not even me or the girls. I love Jimin but.. she’s the idiot for not realizing what a huge mistake she’s making by letting you go.”

Y/N let out a bittersweet chuckle, shaking your head in response. You appreciate Aeri’s attempts to cheer you up, even if the pain still lingers.

Aeri studies them for a long moment before nodding. “Then go kill it over there. Make her regret everything.”

Y/N wiped away the tears that had slipped down their cheeks, then mustered up a smirk. “Oh, don’t worry—I will.”

➽───────

PRESENT DAY

Aeri, Ningning, and Minjeong sat silently in the studio as Y/N’s voice poured through the speakers.

I gave my all and they all know it

Then you tore me down and now it’s showing…

Jimin’s betrayal was woven into every note. Y/N had turned their pain into something tangible, something undeniable.

When the song was released, the world listened.

And so did Jimin.

Jimin wasn’t sure what she had expected when she pressed play. But the moment she heard Y/N’s voice, she felt her heart crack.

You promised the world and I fell for it.

I put you first and you adored it.

The lyrics were a knife to the gut.

She had promised Y/N forever. And then she had thrown it all away.

Tears blurred her vision. She had told herself that her feelings for Jaewook were real. That she had made the right choice.

But why did she feel so empty?

I needed to lose you to find me…

The chorus crashed over her like a wave, every lyric cutting deeper than the last.

Y/N had written about them. About her.

Jimin squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears came anyway. The memories hit her like a storm—Y/N’s laughter echoing in their apartment, the way they’d dance in the kitchen at midnight, the way Y/N would whisper Jimin like it was the only name that mattered.

And then, the fights. The distance. The heartbreak.

Jimin sucked in a shaky breath.

She had let Y/N go.

And now, they had let her go too. This was Y/N’s closure. But Jimin couldn’t help but try and fix things.

➽───────

Meanwhile, you’re in your studio in NYC when your phone buzzes. You smile seeing it’s from Aeri.

[GA AERI 🤡]: The song—damn, Y/N. It was raw. More importantly… the biggest plot twist of the century! I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this voice of yours all these years?! Who knew the Y/N Y/L/N could sing?!?!

Y/N laughs, feeling a mix of pride and amusement.

[Y/N/N]: Thank you, thank you… means a lot coming from Aespa’s Giselle 😆!! I guess I just needed the right motivation to finally show this side of me. But now I get why you get so emotional, that look on your face like you’re on cloud nine whenever you talk about writing your own music.

[GA AERI 🤡]: So what I’m hearing is that I inspired you to make your own music? 😏 You’re so welcome! 😉 I expect to be credited!!!

You roll your eyes, but can’t contain the small chuckle that escapes your lips.

[Y/N/N]: Shut up 😒 It feels nice, actually singing the music rather than just being behind the scenes, you know what I mean? There’s something freeing about it. It’s like finally owning my story, not just creating it for someone else.

[GA AERI 🤡]: In all seriousness… Ning, Mindoongie and I are so proud and happy for you. 🥹 Is it too soon to ask for a visit from the Y/N Y/L/N? We miss you…

[Y/N/N]: I miss you guys too. I’ll see.

[Y/N/N]: No promises tho.

[GA AERI 🤡]: I see, too big for us now huh big shots 🙄

You laugh, shaking your head at Aeri’s antics. You can’t help but miss the japanese girl and the other two clowns.

➽───────

Weeks passed after the song dropped, and Jimin finally found the courage to call.

Y/N didn’t pick up.

Not a second later, her phone buzzed—a message from Y/N.

She opened it, heart pounding.

[Y/N/N ❤️]: Goodbye, Karina.

That was it. Short and simple. Y/N’s message loud and clear. No baby. No babe. No love. Not even Jimin.

Never again.

Seeing Karina sent a chill down her spine. Y/N had never, ever called her Karina before. It felt strange, like the distance between them had solidified in that one word, a reminder of everything that had changed. Yet Jimin knows she deserves it.

And now, far too late, she had realized she lost the one person who had truly loved her.

Y/N looked out at the New York skyline, breathing in the fresh air of a new beginning. For the first time in a long while, they felt at peace—no longer defined by Yu Jimin or their past. It was their own story now.

This was only the start.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝ ⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──

The end.

[fungifaggot]

NSFW 18+

Male Reader x Male Character Insert

Synopsis: A story about pining over your new roommate.

(M/n) = Male characters name (Y/n) = Your name

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Living with a stranger was never ideal.

It was unsettling—feeling like a guest in your own home. Even though you paid rent, the space never truly felt like yours. You had to be mindful of your volume, keep your areas tidy, and tiptoe around the shared spaces when he was home. Most of your time was spent in your room or the kitchen, avoiding unnecessary interaction.

Your roommate wasn’t bad by any means. In fact, he was kind—attractive, even, but there was no spark, no real chemistry. Conversations were brief, limited to mornings, quick exchanges after work, and the occasional weekend interaction. Otherwise, he always seemed preoccupied.

This wasn’t the living situation you would have chosen given better options, but time had forced your hand. Your previous roommate moved away, and with your lease ending, you had to act fast.

Now, nearly a month in—three weeks and two days, to be exact—you realized how little effort you’d made to get to know him. Not that you meant to be distant, but you’d both been busy. Boxes still sat unopened in your bedrooms, remnants of a transition still not yet complete.

Then came one Saturday night.

Both of you were home, and as you sorted through one of your lingering boxes, you found your old gaming console. A thought struck you—maybe this was your chance to break the ice. Without overthinking, you set it up in the living room, laid out some snacks, two glasses, and a bottle of liquor—just in case.

With two controllers in hand, you stood at his door, hesitating before knocking. Your pulse quickened. Why were you nervous? You took a steadying breath and knocked.

A rustling noise came from inside, then the door clicked open.

He stood there in loungewear, hair slightly tousled, looking a little worn down, but still effortlessly handsome. You almost felt bad for disturbing him, but the way his expression softened told you he didn’t mind.

“Sorry if now’s not a good time,” you said, lifting a controller. “I just set up my console in the living room—thought you might want to join me?”

He chuckled, reaching for the controller.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

That night, time slipped away. The game was forgotten as the two of you talked—really talked—for the first time. You learned about his interests, his sense of humor, little details about his past. The conversation flowed so naturally that neither of you noticed when the controllers were set aside.

After that, everything changed.

The tension that once lingered between you disappeared. Moving around each other became effortless. At some point, comfort replaced formality—walking to the kitchen in just boxers, passing each other on the way from the shower in only a towel. It felt like you’d known him for years.

Somewhere along the way, a quiet crush began to form. You felt it in the small moments, the way your stomach flipped when he laughed, or how you started looking forward to seeing him at the end of the day.

But you pushed it down.

Your lease still had a couple months left, and the last thing you wanted was to ruin the good thing you had going on with him.

He made it hard though, he would strut around in the tightest shorts, and bend over provocatively while doing the dishes or while he gathered his laundry. He'd sit so close to you on the couch, wearing nothing but boxers, rubbing his bare thighs against yours tempting you to take just the quickest glimpse down at his bulge. You weren't sure if he was doing it on purpose. Was he subtly flirting with you? Or were you just a pervert. Either way, it was getting to you. Most nights ended with you feeling pent up and jerking off to the thought of him.

Some nights, if you got lucky you could hear him masturbate through the shared wall of your bedrooms. You knew it was wrong, but when it happened you would press your ear against the wall and stroke your cock, touching yourself at the same time as him. You always felt guilty after, but it didn't stop you from doing it again.

Today was a weekday, and you had gotten home particularly late. You softly maneuvered your way through the apartment door, careful not to wake up your roommate or neighbors. You quietly set down your keys, and made your way to your bedroom. As you passed by (M/n)'s room, you heard a low guttural moan. He was much louder than he normally was, he must not have heard you enter.

You stayed still, not wanting to elicit any sounds that would alert him of your presence. It was sick, but you wanted to hear more.

"Y/n"

Your ears perked up like a cat- no fucking way.

"Y/nnn" he said again, even louder this time.

You were confident that you heard him correctly.

You weren’t sure what to do. The tent growing in your pants urged you to turn the doorknob, storm inside, and claim what was yours, but rationally, you knew better. You were afraid to overstep his boundaries.

Instead of taking action, you unzipped your pants and pulled your cock out. You leaned your forehead against his door to get a close listen and started stroking your cock. You circled your thumb around the head, using the precum that had already dribbled out to wet the tip.

(M/n) made the cutest sounds on the other side of the door. You could hear soft panting, followed by whiny moans. And if you listened really closely you could hear a deliciously sweet squelching sound.

"Y/n" He moaned out again, the sound of your name rolling off of his tongue made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Feeling a hint of courage, you let out a loud moan you had been holding back, hoping it might catch his attention.

You immediately heard (M/n)'s movements come to a halt, his moans no longer lingering in the air. You didn't stop though, your hand kept moving. You huffed loudly outside his door, strained moans bubbling up and out of your mouth.

"(M/n)" you moaned out, finally saying his name out loud.

He could definitely hear you.

A terrifying silence filled the air, maybe this wasn't as good of an idea as you thought.

Until a soft squelching sound and a deep sigh rang through the air as he continued his movements.

This gave you just enough confidence to knock on his door—not so much as a request to enter, but more as a warning that you were coming in. You slowly eased the door open, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wanted to. However, nothing was said. After closing the door behind you, you turned to finally lay eyes on him. His hand was still moving, desperately pumping his cock as you took in the sight of him. He looked absolutely lovely, his hair was slightly sweaty and sticking to his forehead. He still had his shirt on but it was bunched up and being held up by his teeth. He laid on his back, legs spread and completely bare.

He moaned softly like he enjoyed the intensity of being under your gaze.

In his free hand, you noticed he held a pair of your boxers that had gone missing.

"I didn't know you were such a dirty boy," you said with a grin, approaching his bed, and towering over him.

"Would you like for me to help you with your problem sweetheart?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/n: I tried to make the male character as vague as possible so yall can imagine your faves- personally I wrote this with Peter Parker or Mark Grayson in mind.

Anyway, enjoy- all feedback is appreciated xx

[wendichester]

hi! A fan here! Can you please do a dean x reader where she's a substitute teacher at the school that makes the supernatural play, she turns out to be a hunter as well and she's on the same case as the Winchesters. Thank you so much!

✮⋆˙ the substitute,

summary. the real winchesters come to join the supernatural musical

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 554

notes. thank you so so much for requesting, lovely 😙

The first time Dean sees you, you’re standing at the front of a high school auditorium, wrangling a bunch of teenagers who clearly couldn’t care less about whatever speech you’re giving.

“…And remember, if you forget your lines, just keep going,” you say, clapping your hands. “The audience doesn’t know you messed up unless you tell them.”

Dean leans toward Sam, who’s sitting beside him in the back row. “I don’t get it. Why the hell are we wasting time at a school play?”

Sam sighs. “Because kids keep disappearing from the drama department. And—” He gestures toward the giant banner above the stage.

Supernatural: The Musical!

Dean groans. “Right. ‘Cause that nightmare needed to make a comeback.”

Before Sam can reply, you spot them. Your gaze flickers over the two men in the back, assessing. Then, with a quick word to the students, you step down from the stage and make a beeline for them.

Dean straightens, expecting some kind of lecture about visitor passes or whatever, but when you reach them, you cross your arms and smirk.

“You must be the Winchesters.”

Dean blinks. “Uh—sorry, what?”

You tilt your head. “You guys aren’t as sneaky as you think. And you definitely don’t look like parents of a student here.”

Sam shoots Dean a See? look.

Dean recovers fast, flashing you his signature grin. “Depends. If we say yes, do we get detention?”

You don’t take the bait. Instead, you gesture toward the exit. “Let’s take this outside.”

Dean exchanges a look with Sam before following you into the hallway.

The second the doors swing shut behind them, you turn on your heel. “So, which one of you is the genius who thought it was a good idea to work a case without checking if another hunter was already on it?”

Dean blinks. “Excuse me?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve been here for three weeks investigating these disappearances, and then you two waltz in, stepping all over my toes.”

“You’re a hunter?” Sam asks, surprised.

“Yup.” You pull a small flask from your pocket, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig. “Been tracking this thing since the first kid vanished.”

Dean crosses his arms, studying you. He’s met plenty of hunters in his time, but none quite like you. You seem… comfortable here. Like you actually like the whole teacher thing.

“So, what’s the play?” he asks.

You grin. “Oh, that’s easy. I keep being a responsible adult, and you two try not to traumatize any more students while I figure out where this thing is hiding.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “And what exactly is this thing?”

You hesitate. “Still working on that part.”

Sam frowns. “The bodies—”

“Never found.” You nod. “No sulfur, no EMF, no signs of witchcraft. Just kids vanishing without a trace.”

Dean scratches his jaw, intrigued despite himself. “Alright, teach. You got room for two more on this field trip?”

You smirk. “That depends.”

“On what?”

Your eyes flicker to his. “How well you can follow instructions.”

Dean’s grin is slow and lazy. “Sweetheart, you have no idea how good I am at taking direction.”

Sam groans. “Oh my God.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine, Winchester. You’re in.”

And just like that, the case—and whatever this is between you and Dean—just got a whole lot more interesting.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[vesperaominosum]

OMGG I'm so glad!! ok ik ur writing a story rn but if u have any free time I have a story prompt: fem reader with Leon Kennedy (established relationship) and she's bratty with him, like she's got attitude and she's snappy, but Leon doesn't mind bc he knows how to deal with her 🤭🤭 but yeahhh feel free to make it smutty or not, it's up to you <333

Summary : Journey through the pages of Leon figuring out how to handle a bratty girlfriend and accepting himself (kind of, implied)

Pairing : RE4 Leon! × Fem Reader

Tags : Established relationship, bratty reader, self deprecation (Leon being dramatic), some levels of generally harmless toxicity, angst, fluff, hints of hurt/comfort (maybe??), no smut but allusions to what grown ups do and a couple of curse words.

Word count: 2891

A/N: I'm in the middle of working with lots of translations for work and it's multiple different languages so my brain is #freid, so this is super rushed and all over the place but I've been thinking about this prompt and this is what I have to sayyyy. Anyway, sorry for prompt being "he doesn't mind" and the whole fic HE DOES MIND VERY MUCH HES GONNA CRY IF YOURE MEAN TO HIM but this is the prequel!! he doesn't mind after all that anymore hahaha i hope you like it anyway

Leon knew how to handle you.

It didn’t come to him naturally, it couldn’t. You were always difficult. Throughout your childhood you recall most of your caregivers - nannies, teachers, family friends and whoever thought it was their duty to comment - uttering “It’s going to be really hard to find someone who’d put up with her” after witnessing another one of your spectacles. Kinder ones would say “She’ll grow out of it”.

And they were right.

You grew up to be extremely caring, generous, kind and an all-around outstanding young woman. Attitude dissolved into calm confidence and you were very pleasing to be around. It wasn’t just your family who noticed those qualities bloom – everyone loved to be in the presence of your welcoming warm, yet joyfully prickly energy. This is exactly why special agent Leon S Kennedy was drawn to steal your attention at first. It seemed like you had no baggage. It seemed like you were unable to have any baggage. Like whatever hardships were placed your way simply melted and disappeared to the sound of you laughing away all the troubles, making another lighthearted joke that put everything into perspective. You had a magical ability to turn all problems in the world into something meaningless. Perhaps, it was just Leon being in love that made it possible with such ease, but it did not matter. It worked. And he was in love. It wasn’t a crazy concept.

You made him want to become a better person. Not on a grand scale, none of that illusive bullshit, but in everyday life. He counted his blessings and watched out for your feelings, deep down he knew that your carefree façade isn’t all there was, and he was afraid to hurt you. He was attentive, he thought about the things he said and tried to go out of his way to make your day better. He wasn’t the best at relationships, but he genuinely tried. It’s the least he could do for someone who brought him back to life. That if he was around.

When he would go away for work, you wouldn’t speak for weeks, sometimes months. This arrangement made it difficult for your relationship to progress naturally. Every time he came back, you two fell back into the very much juvenile day one: blushing, smiling, flowers, dates, shy kisses that felt like the first… As much as he enjoyed it, he wanted more. It was scary leaving your dashing self alone in the world full of people who could… see you. He wasn’t the unreasonably jealous type, and you never gave him a reason, but it was only logical that you deserved more effort. The lack of which wasn’t an issue, there just never been enough time for it to feel natural, but oh how he wanted to move in together. Sometimes Leon would imagine you in his kitchen and it made him feel shy. He had to better himself, to learn all about how to treat a girl this deserving, then it will fall into pieces.

It was coming along, until he found himself between trying to figure out whether he’s doing too little as of yet or it’s too late as of now. The thing was: you fell into a weird pattern.

Every time he came back, you loved him up and down, held him in your arms and told him all about how happy you were seeing him so close, but approximately on day four… You would switch up. Out of nowhere you’d appear cold and dismissive. He never saw this in you before. A sweet sunshine of a girl he wanted to care for, wanted nothing to do with him. You made borderline rude remarks, paid him no attention and even avoided his touch. One time Leon tried to kiss your shoulder and you snapped at him for ruining your makeup. He apologized and spent a long time trying to figure out what makeup could he possibly ruin by gently touching your shoulder, out of all places, with his lips.

Regardless of your behavior, before he had to depart for work, you were always caring. The juxtaposition messed with his head and he had no clue where you stood. He tried to be understanding, he tried to be kinder and softer, he tried and tried and tried… Day to day, while avoiding dangers his work instilled upon him, he was holding onto hope that much needed space would settle it down. And you would be back to your kind and sweet self. And it did, for approximately four days.

It was day six of him being back and you planned to meet up with your friends together. Well, you planned it and Leon agreed, as he usually did. Leon was familiar with your best friend, not much with the rest of them. Your best friend was a clever girl, beauty and brains, witty but careful, very diplomatic, you sure knew how to pick them and knew that early, you were friends since school. You also had a small circle, just a couple of trusted friends, it was always quality over quantity with you. This thought is what made Leon sick to his stomach. He felt like he was slipping out of a place he didn’t fit to begin with. The idea of you two splitting made all the problems in the world heavy again. The weight that accumulated while he didn’t pay it no mind would crush him.

He tried to figure out what was wrong for the past month, falling asleep to same questions every day of his mission. Why were you pushing him away? Are you tired of waiting? Could it be that you lack courage to break up with him and want to give him a reason to take on this task? Did he scare you away? What if you grew bored of him? After all, dating an agent is exciting, but a life with one… What if you realized it’s a dead end? All the thinking convinced him to act. If you want him to take it further - he would. If you don’t want to - he’d change. He’s bending out of shape as it is to make you happy. Or at least to make you less of a… Less cruel.

So just a day ago he did ask you to move in with him. Prepared for any reaction other that the one you spit out, he stared at the wall, processing your answer. “For what? So, I get to wait for you in another four walls? No, thanks.”

“I could quit” – he said, not looking away from the damn wall. You laughed and patted him on the shoulder and you walked by, - “And do what?”

Right now, you were away, doing your nails or hair, he couldn’t remember. All this remembering and being attentive amounted to nothing anyway. It was slipping away and there was no fixing anything. All he wanted to know was why. All he was not ready to find out was how.

He met you outside of the restaurant, you were late and Leon didn’t want your friends to know you arrived separately. He didn’t want anyone else in the universe to register that you could be separate. To make it one step closer to becoming a reality. The idea was scary. You got out of the taxi, complaining about the driver taking a longer route, like you two were fine. Like you were okay. Like you didn’t reject his proposal to move in with him last night. “You know, I could’ve taken you…” – “To the hospital?” – you snapped, there was no malice, but the look on your face was something he couldn’t read. Was it just hate powdered with playfulness… Was it because you were about to face your friends and had to keep up the appearances? Were you really joking? “What do you mean?” – “You know you’re a terrible driver. I’m so not getting into a car with you. Like, ever.” – and you gracefully chimed into the restaurant. Leon looked like he was slapped, not because of your joke, but because of everything that gripped the hope of fixing that “us” thing he treasured was just shattered. One more time. He walked in after you.

You were radiant, laughing with your friends, who greeted him, exclaiming “The man himself!”. He felt sick. He couldn’t do it. Not in front of your friends, he couldn’t look at you with questions in his heart, and he never learned how to mask his emotions. Maybe that’s a reason you fell out of love. He excused himself barely saying a word and went to the restroom.

Your friend followed him with sorry eyes, honest concern on her face, before gripping your hand, - “That must be hard… Is he always like that when he comes back from… work?”

He washed his face with cold water, pushing wet hair away from his forehead and gripping the sink, Leon looked at himself in the mirror. His heart was heavy, beating with an annoying irregularity that made him nauseous. It was hilarious really, he wasn’t moved by any monstrosity on duty, yet this… He couldn’t afford another part of his life to turn ugly. It wasn’t fair. He did everything right and yet everything was turning out wrong. Now that he started questioning you, it felt like a part of him that he tried to build for you came crushing down. Maybe, had he known his parents and observed their relationship, he could figure out a better way to act, would be more convincing at being this version you would like longer. And he really wanted to be him. He didn’t care who he was, as long as you were there. But he couldn’t make you like him. Maybe that’s what you saw - there was a level of dishonesty in that act. Trying to appeal to your idea of a partner. Whoever that man was – he failed. And Leon was staring at the mirror at the only person he could be. The only company he deserves, it seemed.

Exhale. Inhale, exhale. Whatever goes.

He got out of the restroom and dragged himself to join you and your precious friends. No thoughts, until… Right before turning the corner where a large plant was hiding the hallway from the dining room of the restaurant, he heard parts of your conversation. It was your voice that made him stop. Gentle and kind, just like before. But what made him stay, was what he overheard.

“-no, no! That would never happen, and even if it does… You know I’m just happy he’s back. In one piece. I wouldn’t mind if he came back in more though…” – everyone exclaimed your name and laughed scandalized, - “No! I don’t mean it like that! You know what I mean, stop it! I just… He could be in a wheelchair and it wouldn’t…” – by the pause and laughter it was obvious your friends were making faces, you groaned, - “I hate you, stop making it weird. All I mean is I love him, okay? Whatever happens, in any shape or form, I’m just… I’m happy to…” – your voice got less confident and you started searching for words, - “You know, I get so worried yes, but…”

He felt like someone had to save you from being put on the spot, so he made his way to the table and with a quick “sorry” sat next to you. Everyone put on their best impressions of inconspicuousness and you looked down, almost shy. You noticed the change in his demeanor, he sat closer than you expected after walking on imaginary eggshells for days, intentionally letting his leg touch your thigh.

“Damn, did you take a shower?” – asked one of the men at the table looking at his wet hair, could be your friend, could be your friend’s boyfriend. “Almost. Got really car sick on the way here, had to cool down. Had a terrible driver.” – “Really? We thought you drove here!” – your best friend started fussing immediately, looking for a waiter to fix your boyfriend a real drink instead of a mocktail.

“Yeah” – Leon smiled – “I drove here”. You felt your cheeks burn, as your friends laughed at the joke, without a clue it was aimed at you, and even though he wasn’t looking, you could tell he noticed you turning red, which made his smile wider.

“Took you forever.” – you muttered, annoyed. Were you still trying to play this game?

It was hard to process his emotions. He wanted to squish you in a small ball for making him think all those ugly things, at the same time he wanted to kiss you for finally releasing him from this limbo. Knowing you didn’t want to end things made him euphoric. He still had no idea what was up with your act, but it didn’t matter anymore. He heard your quivering voice when you talked all about just how much you loved him, and he knew sincerity when he came across it. Had to learn it the hard way.

All he wanted to do was to pick you up on his shoulder and carry you away, the problem was – he still had no idea what he wanted to do with you. He was angry, but filled with joy. It was like waking up from the worst nightmare. With morning wood. Almost made him spiral for nothing. He would not let it slide. You were more silent than ever, sipping your milkshake, or whatever it was, and smiling. It was like you sensed you were in trouble and it made you happy. Amusing. As soon as he figures out what to do with all of this, you’re not going to be so giggly.

Evening was coming to an end, he opened the door of his car for you, looking at your much expected insulted expression, - “I said…” – you started, as Leon rolled his eyes and put his hand on your waist, - “Get in” – he pinched you, not hard enough to hurt, but it was enough for you to squirm away into the car.

The road was silent before he took one sharp turn and you followed it with, - “This has to count as attempted murder.” – “Don’t worry, nobody’s gonna find out.” - “Oh, they will, when they find my body,” – you took the front mirror and checked your makeup, - “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your body”, - he smiled, looking as you let go of the mirror and tried to hide your smile and act offended.

Yeah, ever since that day Leon knew how to handle you. Turned out all these people from your childhood were right, as they usually are: it was hard to find him, but it was worth it.

For months you waited for him to snap and drop the act, you hated seeing him treating you like you were holy. You hated seeing him trying to change his ways around you, and him insinuating that you want something else - someone else - with his modifications was insulting. You could have a boring gentleman if you wanted. You wanted original Leon, and you wanted him to want you at your worst.

To this day you remain clueless about the overheard conversation, completely convinced that it took you insulting his driving to get him there. You were prepared to get on his nerves, you always knew he’d show himself, crawl back into himself for you, to take what he needs, to make you you again. You put all your trust into it. And he did not disappoint. He picked it right up every time.

Even now, as he came back to his apartment after another mission, he was not surprised by the lack of greetings at the door. He was not surprised to find you on the bed with a book in your hands as well, sparing him one disinterested glance, - “You’re late.”, - you turned a page, - “Who even let you in?”

He smiled, crawling into bed, and taking the book away from you, - “I welcomed myself”, - he smiled into your lips, holding the book up, as you whined and pretended to try to reach it before finally wrapping your arms around him and returning the kiss. The switch up was always fast with you, and soon he was the one, who tried to pull away, as you kissed and tangled your body into his. He managed to hold you still for a minute, as you ran your fingers through his hair, until the playful look in your eyes softened as you noticed him looking at you with so much care that it made your heart drop. “I missed you so much” – he placed a tender kiss to your chin and you felt hot tears fall from your eyes and make their way into your ears as you hugged him, pulling him closer into your neck, you started crying silently.

He held you up and turned you both around to grip you tighter without crashing, letting you hide in his chest as he held you, caressing your back and kissing your head.

Sometimes you hated him for making you worry so much, sometimes you hated yourself for hating someone you loved so much, sometimes you wanted him to hate you to even it out. Sometimes you didn’t understand yourself and it was okay.

Because Leon knew how to handle you.  

[powderpinkprincess]

Irresponsible [Lando Norris x reader]

description: Lando has an irrational fear of a cab driver kidnapping you once- Or something like that.

Lando usually didn’t mind when you went out without him. You had your own group of friends in Monaco, and as long as your best friend, Sasha was there, Lando didn’t worry much. He really liked her because she was nice and responsible even when she drank, keeping you away from trouble.

What he did mind, however, was you taking a cab home alone. It didn’t matter how safe Monaco was or how many times you had done it before - just the thought of you, possibly even drunk, sitting in the back of a stranger’s car made his stomach twist. What if the driver wasn’t who they seemed? What if something happened, and he wasn’t there? Lando knew it was probably just in his head, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was the one thing he hated about your nights out - waiting for that text saying you were home safe, hoping that nothing had gone wrong.

At least now that Lando finally had a whole week at home, he didn’t have to worry about that, and he could just pick you up himself. Besides training, he still had tons of work to do on his laptop, so he was busy, but he was available.

He didn’t mute his phone when he went to sleep as he usually did, so you could reach him whenever you wanted. However, when you left you noticed how exhausted he looked, so you didn’t want to bother him. At 2 a.m. you were more than ready to leave, and that was when you noticed your credit card was almost empty. You had two credit cards, one to use in your day-to-day life and another one for clubbing.

You didn’t want to wake Lando, but eventually you had to. He was fast asleep when his phone rang. He picked it up half asleep when he saw your number come up. Sitting up, he wiped his eyes and yawned. “Hey babe, is everything okay?”

 “Uhm, hi, sorry to wake you up,” you started.

 “No, no,” he said, slowly coming to his senses. “It's okay,” he added with a yawn. “What is it, love?”

 “Could you maybe send some money to my blue card?” you sighed. Lando knew exactly what you meant as he used the same method when going out. If the card got lost or stolen, it was a much better situation when it was not the majority of your money disappearing.

Lando stifled a sigh as he turned the light on. “Why, did you forget to transfer money again?” he asked while he opened the bank app on his phone. Lando was a bit annoyed at you for being careless with your stuff again, but he sent some money to you anyway.

 “I’m sorry,” you replied, noticing the tone of his voice immediately.

 “Don’t apologize, just try to pay attention the next time.” He suppressed another yawn. “Are you guys going to stay out?”

 “No, I was just about to call a cab,” you explained.

He was silent for a minute, then you could hear the soft ruffling of the sheets as he moved. “Why didn’t you call me before? I would have come to pick you up.”

 “Cause you needed rest,” you mumbled. You knew he didn’t like it when you took a cab, so you expected the question.

 “Well, I'm up now, so I don't think it matters anyway,” Lando said with a hint of sarcasm. “I would have come to pick you up at any time for you, love, you know that,” he added, trying to sound sincere. He didn't want to pick a fight now that he was awake, but it was a bit of a sensitive spot for him. Lando didn't like that you would just jump into a car with a stranger. He worried about your safety more than you realised.

 “I know,” you sighed.

There was a brief silence on the line. Lando knew you were being considerate by not calling him earlier, yet he couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated. He wanted to voice that but held back, knowing it would lead to a pointless argument. “Where are you, anyway?” he asked instead.

  “At Aurora. We're still inside at the smoking area cause it's quiet and warm here,” you added. “Why?”

 “Just wondering. Aurora is on the other side of the city, and at this time of night I'd rather not send you in a random cab,” Lando replied, his concern growing. “Are the girls with you?”

 “Yes, they are. But you really don't need to come,” you pushed.

Lando knew you were trying to not bother him, but he also knew that this was pointless to argue about. Besides, he would be restless if he just stayed home now that he was up. “I'm coming,” he said with a finality in his voice.

 “Baby…” you sighed.

Lando was already getting up and putting on some clothes. “Stop protesting, Y/N. Half of the cab drivers barely even speak English here,” he retorted. “You’ve been drinking, you’re wearing that small dress, and you’re- You’re not going to call a cab. Just stay inside. I’ll be there soon.”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to reply. You could hear the frustration in his voice, but it somehow warmed your heart. “I love you,” you spoke eventually.

 “Love you, too. See you at the club,” he added before he ended the call.

He didn’t know how to explain what he felt. It was just that- So many things in his life could be taken away within a second. And he barely had anything stable to hold onto, considering how much he had to travel. He knew what people and social media were capable of, and he was just so afraid of you getting hurt. You’ve been dating over three years now, so his followers knew who you were, and he was also aware that people didn’t always have good intentions.

Twenty minutes later he was parked outside the club. He called you, so you quickly grabbed your belongings, hugged the girls goodbye, and then hurried to his car. You sat in and closed the door behind yourself.

Lando winced at the sound. “Hey, careful.”

He had taught you not to smack the door of his car, but apparently you were too drunk to notice or remember.

 “Oh, sorry,” you bit on your lip when you realized what you had done.

You checked your phone to see the time, and that was when you saw the notification of your bank application. You frowned and checked your account. Lando sent you money despite that he decided to pick you up, but you only expected an amount that would cover a cab ride. You huffed when you saw the numbers.

 “Baby, I wanted to call a cab for a ride home, not to buy the driver with the car,” you glanced at your boyfriend, who had just started the engine.

 “Consider it as a precaution,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the road as he started driving. He was still a little frustrated. “Better safe than sorry. And you know I don’t like you being in cabs with strangers at night.”

 “I know, but this is extensive. Did you think I’d have to pay a ransom for myself or what?” you sighed. “You know I have my own money, right? Just not on this card.”

 “I know,” he said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “But sometimes you can be irresponsible when it comes to money, like leaving your card behind or not checking your balance,” he said, recalling past incidents.

You just hummed. That was right.

 “Besides, this most likely wouldn’t be enough for a ransom,” he added.

 “I was just joking,” you mumbled. He wasn’t in a funny mood tonight.

 “I know,” Lando sighed. He stepped on the break at a red light and looked at you. “Y/N, I don’t even know how to approach this anymore. I’m not saying that I would pick you up because I’m trying to be nice. I’m saying it because I’d much rather pick you up by myself than wait until some creep kidnaps you. I know, you’re a strong, independent woman, but can’t you just let me have it my way for once?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words. “No one is going to kidnap me.”

 “Y/N,” he pressed. “Please. Seriously.”

You couldn’t force back a small smile. Even though he could annoy you to death by being overprotective sometimes, he was still very cute.

 “Okay,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Meanwhile, the light has turned green again.

 “Okay?” he glanced at you again quickly before looking back at the road.

 “Yeah. Okay.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he sent you a small smile back. Oh, how you loved him.

[the-daydreaming-show]

(4.) The Skyfall

SUMMARY: Your time is up.

NOTE: I'll be honest, I've been struggling with this chapter, and this is the final version, but even then I'm not sure. It's a bit boring, but next chapter has a bonus, and then the final chapter of finales! So, sorry about the lame chapter, but hope you like it as leas for entertemiend and see you in the bonus chapter!! XOXO Ella

Memories/Thoughts in italics

Dragon Language in bold italics

Reader dress is inspired by this art of Queen Rhaenys.

Previus Part: (3.) DREAMS MADE HEAVY.

AO3 / Story Masterlist

There was less than a week between Nyx's birthday and the Starfall celebration. From what Elain had told you in the party, the previous year they had not celebrated it due to the birth and other circumstances she didn't explain. 

So, it was not only her nephew’s first Starfall celebration but also the first for her and Nesta.

You spent every day until it at the House of Wind, until the morning of the celebration, when you decided it would be best to take Balerion for a fly. There was a possibility that Feyre and Rhysand would appear early at the house for the party preparations, and despite your newly acquired ability to avoid people in that house, you ran into Nesta at breakfast before leaving.

“I hope you’re not thinking about fleeing the party,” she mocked coldly at you. Of course, because she would be the first to notice how you had spent more time than usual inside the house rather than outside on the balconies or in the sky with your dragons.

“No, I'm just going to take a fly. To make sure, Balerion doesn't cause a scandal when he sees there's a party here tonight.” You explained while spreading butter on your bread and then adding a disrespectful amount of honey.

“I was glad to know that you're well-" She admitted behind her cup of tea. "She missed you too."

You tried not to halt your movements at her words and smiled as best you could before biting into your toast—a poor attempt to hide in some way.

"You can fool many people, Nesta Archeron, but you and I both know you have been missing me every day since the day I disappeared." You teased gently, taking a sip of your own tea. A small tilt of her lips was visible behind her cup. She didn’t deny it, but you hadn’t expected her to admit it out loud.

With her, it had always been like that. The longest conversation you had ever had was before you really knew each other, and you had always been able to understand her silences. You knew that made it more irritating than useful—because you already knew things she didn’t want to tell anyone. Silence had become both an agreement and a decision over the years, a shared language. That was why you had breakfast in silence and parted ways just as quietly when you got up from the table.

With Feyre, there had never been silences, probably the reason it now felt so uncomfortable not to tell her about the things that had happened and those you knew would happen. But you had seen firsthand the life she had now, and there was no room for you or what you had to do in that life. Even if she were able to accept everything. 

You love her, and that was why you wouldn’t drag her to where you stood now—just for the selfish comfort of her company.

Already in the sky, you roamed the mountains and even accompanied Balerion in his hunt of the day—anything to avoid returning to the house, just in case. 

All of it left your face covered in ash, so Mayhem would probably scold you later. After all, your presence that night was supposed to be an official visit—the last before leaving. Your court expected you to inform Feyre and Rhysand of your decision today. Those two didn’t know that, of course. However, you were aware that, since the decision had already been made and confirmed, staying until the party was already too much by the political standards.

So you stayed in the sky until night started to fall. Your stomach growled with hunger, and your tongue felt dry with thirst. It was then that you realized maybe you had overdone it. You flew over the house to dismount, no longer after. You threw yourself off Balerion’s side, using his wings to slow your descent and land on the balcony of your rooms—a dangerous maneuver. The dragon was flying too close to the house, meaning he could easily break something, and the risk of you missing the balcony, falling onto the one below, or any of them, and breaking something was high. But you preferred that risk. 

Fortunately, you didn’t break anything, you simply stepped onto the balcony, where an angry Mayhem was already waiting for you. She glared at you with the same fury while you dropped the harnesses on the floor and headed toward the bathroom, where a bathtub had been waiting for you for far too long.

“It's cold,” you complained as you got into the water. You started to stand up, but her hands pushed your shoulders down, submerging you up to your neck.

“It would be hotter if you weren’t an hour late,” May said offhandedly, but she still left the room in search of hot water.

After the extra hot water, the bath wasn’t as hot, but warm was better than freezing, so you didn’t complain when she went for more. Your presence in the tub helped reheat it, after all, and by the time you were done, the water was bubbling and boiling. May had to let you finish washing alone because of this—for her irritation and your amusement.

You dried yourself in silence while she busied herself in the room. You wrapped yourself in a towel and went to find her, and found her delicately placing your dress on the bed, ready for use.

“Go get yourself ready. I'll call you for the hair,” you said. She frowned at you. You roll your eyes. “I know how to dress myself. You can check my work when you return. Now go get ready.”

“Okay, call me if you get tangled up.” You nodded to her demand.

Mayhem closed the door behind her, leaving you alone. You sat on the bed next to the dress and felt your stomach growl. You closed your eyes, silently regretting all your decisions, and when you opened them again, you noticed that at some point, May had left a tray with juice and a sandwich for you.

"How did I not see this before?" you muttered, quickly reaching for it.

The sandwich was simple, but it was enough to satisfy you and silence the hunger. After it, you shook off your fatigue and turned to your dress with renewed energy.

The dress Mayhem had chosen for the party was composed of two layers that required careful arrangement, which explained her hesitation about letting you put it on alone. The first layer was a sleeveless black dress with a V-shaped neckline, clinging to your figure thanks to the corset, accentuating your hips and letting the fabric cascade to the floor without a train or excessive drama. The corset had a texture reminiscent of Balerion’s scales, adorned with tiny diamonds so small they were invisible unless viewed up close.

When you put it on, you felt as if you were wearing stars, glimmering in the darkness of the room—just as Balerion’s scales did at night.

The second layer of the outfit was dark red, made of a softer fabric. This part covered the left side of the corset, fastening at the waist with an embellishment in the shape of a black iron dragon. From the sleeve, which perfectly matched the dress underneath, a cape extended, also serving as the train of the dress, elegantly crossing your bare back and cascading to the ground. It could have been just a single dress, but this way, you were sure you could wear both pieces on other occasions and with different outfits. That was a condition when you agreed to the special preparation of this attire for the event.

You were putting on heeled sandals, complaining due to the corset that prevented you from breathing and bending down enough to adjust them properly, when Mayhem returned, wearing her own red and black ensemble. All of her outfit complimented yours, but did not imitate it. Her dark hair was styled into a crown of braids on her head, leaving not a strand of place. It was surprising that she had managed to get completely ready in the same amount of time it took you to put on your dress and struggle with your sandals. She entered with a tray with more sandwich and juice, and quickly let all in the night table knelt in front of you to help. You sigh as you sit straight, since movement causes the corset to stop stabbing into the lower stomach.

"You need to eat something. " May said. You felt cold sweat running down your back.

You let yourself fall onto the bed for a moment, trying to catch your breath. That sandwich clearly hadn’t been enough. Mayhem offered you one of the sandwiches, and held the juice while you ate to offer it to you as soon as you finished, the next sandwich was offered to you immediately after. 

By the time you were done, downing the third and finishing your juice, Mayhem stopped worrying about it to stop and check your dress. While you were chewing, May loosened the corset of your black dress, allowing you to breathe more freely, and refastened it just right. You hadn't realized the corset was strangling you because it was so poorly fitted until May readjusted it, and you could easily swallow the last few bites of your food. 

You could barely feel the corset; probably if you hadn't suffered from it earlier due to your poor performance, you wouldn't be so self-conscious about its position. But she didn't adjust anything else, which made you feel proud that you'd managed to put almost the entire outfit on correctly.

You were led to sit at the vanity to do your hair after that, hoping that what you had eaten would be enough to tide you over until dinner and that a good meal would be served at the party. Mayhem carefully brushed your hair, and you almost fell asleep. You frowned in disappointment when she finished before you could even nod off.

"We won't do anything too dramatic with the hair," May told you as she set down the brush and grabbed a jar to apply oils. She massaged your hair and scalp for a while. "We could touch up the roots if you want," she whispered at the end, noticing the tiny roots peeking through the front strands of your hair. 

You shook your head gently after considering it for a couple seconds.

Mayhem used two hair-slides shaped like dragon wings.With them, Mayhem gathered your hair away from your face, and in a half updo with a bun at the back of your head. The combs matched the clasp that fastened your dress, and they were made of the same material as the bracelets she placed on your bare arms. Then, you stood in front of the full-length mirror while Mayhem carefully hooked part of the dress’s train to the bracelets, so it wouldn’t drag too heavily behind you.

Looking at your reflection, you realized the train resembled a blood-red halo that unfurled when you moved.

Mayhem was applying perfume to your neck when Armin and Luka entered the room, also dressed for the occasion, just like May. Coordinated, but not identical to you, their queen.

"You look beautiful, your grace," Armin remarked lovingly, smiling.

"Impossible not to look good with the amount of money spent on this outfit," you remarked gracefully, stretching your neck while Mayhem continued perfuming you. "Are you all going to keep calling me your grace all night?"

"I'm afraid so, your grace," Luka replied mockingly. 

You roll your eyes, and look at yourself in the mirror. 

You looked ethereal. 

It was strange, considering there was a time when you didn't care about your appearance because there was no room in your life to even think about that. Back then, you were still young and had your whole life ahead of you. 

And then, as you learned, appearances meant survival. So you took great care of yours, always wanting to look better—in the ideal way to attract the customers you wanted, not others. You had perfected your image, making sure that every aspect of your outfit, hair, and attitude played the role that would earn you more money and more time for Rue.

Now, everything feels so foreign to you. You played with the fabric of the dress a little, watching the reflection mimic your movements, confirming that it was really you. 

You didn’t know what to say or do about the outfit. It was beautiful, but that didn’t mean you looked beautiful in it. It made no sense. Perfecting your image years ago hadn’t saved Rue, and this outfit wouldn't change anything that night. So, it didn't really matter.

You had barely made it down the stairs to the ballroom, where the party was already underway, when Morrigan appeared and took your arm, leading you around the room with Mayhem shadowing you both. She complimented your dress, and without hesitation, you told her she could have it if she wanted; you wouldn’t have much use for it in the Bay. Truthfully, the Bay's fashions were nowhere near what your outfit looked like that night—it had been designed to blend seamlessly with the party and Prythian styles.

"Honestly, for a moment, I was afraid you'd come out wearing a diamond-studded riding habit or something, considering how long you took to land. I was sure Mayhem would be scrambling to get you into something elegant for the evening," she mocked, glancing at your friend for a reaction. But May just looked at her briefly before whispering,

"If I had tried, I definitely would have never left," she declared firmly, making Mor laugh.

Morrigan led you to the table, unconcerned with the people who had to shift and adjust so that the trains of both your dress and hers could pass without being stepped on. The three of you stared at the snack table in silence for a while, until the blonde picked up a caviar sandwich, never letting go of your arm. You watched her chew nonchalantly before slipping your arm free and reaching for a glass of champagne, ignoring Mayhem's gaze.

"Are you on babysitting duty, Mor?" you asked, bringing the glass to your lips with utmost delicacy, mindful of the work May had put into your makeup.

"Something like that. You are the honored guests of the evening, so keeping you entertained and well cared for tonight is the responsibility of the court emissaries, while Rhys and Feyre are the evening’s hosts. Cassian was assigned your general, and Nesta, your secretary," she explained, and you made a quip over the rim of your glass.

"I'm sure that'll be fun for Luka," you remarked mockingly, and May smiled beside you. Mor looked at you as she took another bite. "Armin is the slowest talker in the world—he's very serious, I always tell him that. He says it's his age. And Luka is just Luka. I don't think he and Nesta will exchange a single word all night unless someone forces them. Though I think they'd both prefer it that way."

"And this one?" Mor asked, pointing at Mayhem with a smile. Your friend's ears turned red in the dimly lit room. "How should I ensure his fun tonight? Since he won’t leave your side."

"Well—"

Someone calling your name interrupted you. You turned to see Feyre and Rhysand walking toward you.

Feyre wore a dark blue, mermaid-style dress that hugged her curves, with a single sheer sleeve that draped over her arm down to her wrist, where it fit snugly. Around her neck, a strip of fabric wrapped like a scarf, cascading behind her like a cape. The entire ensemble was adorned with tiny gems, making her look as though she were covered in stars.

Rhysand wasn't far behind, dressed in pants, boots, and a black tunic with silver embroidery that provided subtle contrast. Beneath the tunic, he wore a shirt in the same dark blue hue as Feyre’s—sparkly and all. They were stupidly attractive as a couple. Their coordinated outfits only made them look better—and worse—all at the same time.

You were suddenly grateful that Armin, Luka, and Mayhem matched you, because the thought of standing out alone left a hollow, lonely feeling in your chest.

"I see Mor already dragged you to attack the snack table," Rhysand teased, glancing at Morrigan, who stuck her tongue out at him while taking a sip of champagne with one hand, the other still holding a bite of food, waiting to be eaten.

"I thought I dragged her, but it may have simply been mutual," you admitted honestly, to which Rhysand smiled in amusement.

"I was looking for you," Feyre said gently, her eyes obviously trailing over your dress. "You look incredible."

"There’s no doubt the Dragon Queen of the East has arrived tonight," Rhysand added, following Feyre’s lead. "You’ll definitely steal the show, Your Grace."

"Oh, please. There’s no dethroning the best-dressed couple of the evening. High Lord and High Lady, you are undoubtedly the envy of all Prythian with the beauty you carry tonight," you said, hoping it sounded less bitter than it felt. You immediately took a sip from your glass and set it down on the table, refusing to look at their reactions.

"And Nyx?" you asked, forcing a lighthearted tone, maybe a little too disingenuous. "I hope he matches too, or I’ll be disappointed!" The words slipped out before you could stop them. But there was no turning back now—you had already stepped in the mud; you might as well sink into it completely to hide it.

You met Feyre's gaze, saw a flicker of concern in her eyes, and pointedly gave her the best everything-is-okay smile you could muster. It didn't work as quickly as you would have liked, so you turned your attention to Rhysand, making him the most interesting person of the evening as you avoided Feyre.

"He is, but I'm afraid nap time clashes with the start of the celebration, so he'll be here for the big moment only," he explained gently, his tone completely casual, his hand resting on Feyre’s waist. You nodded slowly, smiling at him, and took another glass from the table beside you. You sipped it as calmly as possible, though you could have easily downed the champagne in one go.

"I should go find Armin and Luka before they make any strangers too uncomfortable with their lack of sociability," you told them, stepping away from the table before anyone could say anything else, your dress billowing behind you as you walked away.

Once you were sufficiently covered by the crowd, you tipped your glass back at an angle, emptying it in one motion. You placed it on the tray of a passing waiter. Mayhem followed you closely to the balconies, where people were chatting without missing a beat.

There they were, standing with their matching outfits and ethereal beauty. You realized you couldn't stand it for another second. So you made your choice—you would keep your distance for the rest of the party. You ran away. That was the solution. It wouldn’t change anything, only hasten the inevitable.

And so you did.

You dodged Feyre and Rhysand as best you could for a couple of hours while they flitted around the food and drink tables, eating and drinking. But the task proved more difficult than you had anticipated—you quickly realized your dress was working against you.

That's how Morrigan found you a couple of hours later, just before the starfall began. She announced that Nyx was already at the party and had brought his dragons, so you let her drag you along—Mayhem included.

The boy truly matched his parents, which warmed your heart instead of bringing the heartache you had feared. You silently thanked that relief with a sigh. He wore pants and boots that matched his father's and a loose shirt made from the same fabric as his mother's dress. His black curls had been slicked back, but by the time you reached him, he had already managed to loosen some of them.

"Hi," you greeted softly, stepping closer to him, as he was currently in Elain's arms. The boy looked at you and immediately broke into a smile, offering you one of the wooden dragons.

"Bababa," he declared proudly, showing you the black-painted wooden dragon.

"Yes, Balerion." You hesitated, feeling Feyre and Rhysand’s gazes on you. And you could bet the rest of the Inner Circle also had their eyes on you and the boy. "Did you see that Balerion has stars?" you asked sweetly. You knew he probably didn’t understand what you were saying and wouldn’t answer, but you still spoke to him that way, unsure of how to interact with children so young.

Nyx tilted his head curiously and looked at his toy. Then he offered it to you again, trying to understand what you meant. He seemed to recognize the word stars.

"Like this," you said softly, gently holding his hand. You raised his arm so it looked like he was flying the dragon above his head. "See? There, Nyx—stars."

The toy had its wings stretched out as if it were hovering in the sky, and when Nyx looked up at it, he saw its entire belly, legs, and the underside of its wings twinkling, as if a starry sky lay beneath. The boy let out a squeal of excitement at the discovery. You thought that, in his mind, you had just revealed to him that this toy truly contained stars, because the way he held it upside down and excitedly showed Elain the stars beneath it was as if he were presenting the greatest discovery of the century.

You let out a laugh at his enthusiasm.

"Does Balerion really do that?" Rhysand asked, his tone curious. You looked at him for a moment, searching for any trace of insincerity in his voice but finding none.

"Yes. It's his scales. In the dark, they shimmer as if covered in stars, and in the sky, they camouflage him." You explained simply. "The toy is made to mimic that."

"It sounds beautiful," Nesta remarked, to which you smiled in appreciation.

"No doubt," Elain added, adjusting Nyx in her arms as he excitedly moved to show his aunts and uncles how the stars appeared on his toy.

"Can we see it?" Feyre asked, making you look directly at her. You noticed the silver combs in her hair, matching Rhysand’s cufflinks, and how beautiful she looked with her hair styled that way. You couldn't bring yourself to say no—but you forced yourself to.

“I wouldn't want to interrupt today's big event. I'm sure it'll start soon,” you said quickly, trying to divert attention from the conversation so you could escape again. Nyx showed you the toy once more, and you smiled at him again.

“Maybe later, we could watch it from one of the higher balconies. I'm sure it’ll be an equally beautiful sight to close out the evening,” Rhysand offered swiftly, glancing between you and Feyre.

Feyre smiled excitedly, waiting for your response. You looked at the toy Nyx was babbling excitedly about, staring at the stars painted on the wood and trying to scratch at them with your fingers to see if they would come off—but they wouldn't. You glanced back at Feyre, who was still waiting for an answer with hope in her eyes, and felt the urge to refuse leave your body with a resigned sigh.

“Well, I guess a demonstration won't hurt, as long as we don’t overshadow the main event of the evening,” you agreed, having no real choice.

Nyx began throwing himself toward his mother, babbling and yelling that he wanted to go with her. As the child was passed into her arms, you silently stepped away, watching as his bright eyes moved further from you.

You hid at the nearest snack table until an announcement prompted the guests to move to the balconies for the start of the meteor shower. You stood on a balcony with your court and a group of other guests. You’d like to say that the meteor shower took your breath away with its beauty for the rest of the night, but you didn’t get to enjoy it—because a few feet away, on another balcony where the Inner Circle stood, Nyx’s reaction to his first meteor shower stole your attention. And you didn’t mind, because the sight of the child, mesmerized by the way the sky lit up, was brighter than the stars themselves.

That balcony made for a perfect family portrait. Feyre should paint it, you thought as you took another sip from your glass. You had lost count of how many you’d had, but the champagne wasn’t strong enough to get you drunk.

A knot tightened in your stomach, coiling in on itself. The corset wasn’t helping matters. You seriously considered hiding in one of the bathrooms and pretending you’d had too much to drink to avoid the private demonstration. But you didn’t get the chance, because an excited Elain—who must have spotted you across the balconies—appeared out of nowhere just as you were leaving the area with your court and led you to a different, more private balcony.

On the way there, you glanced at Armin and Luka, silently warning them not to follow. If I suffer, we all suffer, you told them with your eyes. Armin, despite his age, somehow didn’t even hear Elain when she called for the attention of those still at the ball.

You did the only thing you could think of to calm your nerves. You reached through the bond with Balerion and commanded him to demonstrate, using the moment to focus on his breathing, heartbeat, and movements—syncing with them, relaxing into the connection they represented. By the time you reached the balcony, you had calmed down, and Balerion roared, making you aware of how close the house truly was. The people on the balconies below, where the party continued, leaned out to watch as well

“Well, here we go,” you said softly as Elain told you how to spot Balerion approaching, and you leaned on the edge of the balcony.

Your boy put on a show. First, Balerion revealed himself, flying around the mountain, rising from beneath the house until he passed by the balconies—so close that some people below stumbled as the wind from his wings shook them all. You only watched with affection. Upon reaching the top of the house, he quickly ascended, making sure everyone knew where he was, spitting a ball of fire through which he flew before disappearing into the sky.

A few seconds passed before anyone spoke.

“Where is he?” Nesta asked in amazement beside you.

You looked around, noticing the balcony filled with the Inner Circle and your court. Nyx was leaning against his mother's hip, staring at the sky in fascination, clutching his dragon toy in his hand. You were more than capable of locating Balerion because you knew what to look for, but the others weren’t.

You stepped closer, making sure to stand next to Nyx, accidentally placing yourself between Feyre and Rhysand—which you chose to ignore for the sake of demonstrating to the boy. You hoped they would do the same.

"Nyx," you called softly. The boy turned to you, though his eyes were still preoccupied with the disappearance of the dragon in the sky. "There, look," you said, placing a gentle hand on his back and pointing to a particular spot in the sky. He followed your finger intently, leaning forward as his eyes narrowed.

It was easy to spot Balerion in the sky if you knew what to look for. It was like staring at the sea, searching for a ripple on the still surface to find where a fish swam just below. The way the stars seemed to flicker more than the others—how some appeared to shift before blinking out—was the clue. Then, Balerion let out another burst of fire, betraying his position once again, and whispers rose from below, a mixture of admiration and fear.

“Bababa,” Nyx whispered in awe. You glanced at him, unable to help but smile at the way he stared at the sky. You were surprised by how quickly he had located Balerion after only being pointed in the right direction once, absorbing the information like a sponge.

That was when you realized you were perhaps too close to him—because, in the next second, his small arm wrapped around your neck, and his weight pressed against you as he threw himself at you with complete trust that you would catch him. You had no choice but to hold him as he leaned into you, taking you by surprise. He was probably used to being passed around effortlessly, and you froze slightly once he was settled in your arms, his legs resting around your waist.

For the first time, you willingly looked at Feyre, silently asking for help with the situation. But she only smiled and shrugged gently before turning her gaze back to the sky, where Balerion was still circling—offering no further assistance.

Traitor, you thought, and you could have sworn you heard a chuckle from your right, where Rhysand was still standing.

“Bababa,” the boy in your arms said with more certainty, drawing your attention as he lifted his toy, mimicking the real dragon’s flight.

“Yes—yes, Balerion flies like that,” you managed, stumbling slightly over your words.

Rhysand circled behind you and stood beside Feyre, but when you looked at him for help, he simply smiled, as if he found the situation amusing. You might have rolled your eyes, but any movement beyond focusing on holding the boy felt like a risk, so you didn’t.

Mayhem appeared behind you, like a saving grace. Without hesitation, she approached the boy. She gently adjusted his position, placing his legs against your hips, one arm resting slightly behind his back and the other supporting one of his legs to keep him steady. You relaxed slightly thanks to her help—and even more so when she positioned herself on the side where Rhysand had been.

You looked back at the stars, trying to appear as casual as possible, afraid that if you seemed too uncomfortable, Nyx would notice and grow uneasy. You adjusted him slightly in your arms, almost hugging him to you, wrapping the cloak attached to your bracelets around him accordingly.

Gods, it had been years since you had held a child. Your sister was the first and the last.

You stood there for a while, watching as Balerion broke the stillness of the sky with his movements. The rest of the Inner Circle and your people moved about the balcony, but Nyx remained utterly fascinated, guiding his toy through the air in tandem with the real dragon. You stayed still, letting him be. You were too focused on the weight in your arms to pay attention to anything else.

For a while, the boy was quiet—but when Balerion let out a particularly loud roar in the sky, Nyx shifted excitedly in your hold, and a pop caught your attention.

“Oh,” you whispered, surprised to see two small wings suddenly sprout from the boy’s back, tangled in the fabric of his dress. You instinctively moved to free them, but hesitated—you didn’t want to take your hands off him for too long, afraid he might move and fall.

“Here, let me help you,” Rhysand whispered, leaning closer. “Move your hand like this.” He guided your hand to support the boy’s back beneath his wings, careful not to press too far.

“Get the fabric out of there,” you instructed softly, pointing to a piece of cloth caught on the small horn atop Nyx’s wing. Rhysand followed your instructions with ease, and soon, Nyx’s wings were free of any fabric, folding neatly into place, twitching in excitement as he gazed up at the sky.

“Better, Nyx?”

You didn't get a response from him—just watched as he continued playing with his toy—and you felt bad because Balerion had already told you the show was over.

"Balerion has to go, Nyx," you informed him softly. He looked up at you in surprise, clearly not very happy about it. "Say goodbye. Goodbye, Balerion." You waved at the dragon, who breathed fire and roared before swooping down into the mountains, where he slept most nights.

"Baba, baba, baba," Nyx mumbled, mimicking your gesture with a sad tone and pouting.

You followed Balerion with your eyes as he descended into the mountains, feeling his landing through the bond, reassuring yourself that he was safe. Then, out of nowhere, Nyx rested his head against your chest. You were grateful you hadn’t worn a collar because, immediately after, he rubbed his head against your skin as if it were a pillow.

"Oh… okay," you whispered, surprised and overwhelmed by the trust the boy displayed as he murmured against you, settling deeper into your arms.

"It's because you're warm," May's teasing voice reached your ears, and you glared at her, offended by her persistence on the subject.

"I'm not," you retorted, irritated but keeping your voice gentle, not wanting to startle Nyx, who had grown even more comfortable, snuggling against your chest with his little hands all over you, as if you were a very large pillow. "He's just sleepy."

"And yet, he chose to settle against the little oven that you are," she mocked again, hands behind her back, a smirk spreading across her face. She didn’t even look at you, which irritated you even more. This time, you rolled your eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Feyre asked as Rhysand reentered the balcony with a drink in hand, which he then offered to her. You hadn't even noticed he was gone.

"Mayhem and Ragnar insist that I'm warm—like my dragons. Which is nonsense. My body temperature is perfectly normal; all the medical tests confirm it," you explained, throwing an irritated glance at your friend, but May just shrugged and grinned mockingly.

"That doesn't mean you're not unusually warm for a person—and very huggable. Nyx seems to agree." As if on cue, the boy let out a contented sigh against your chest. "See? The evidence speaks for itself."

"Go to sleep, Mayhem. You get annoying when you're tired," you told her coolly, but she only responded with a mischievous laugh. She left the balcony soon after, bidding Feyre and Rhysand goodnight.

You suspected her lack of further teasing had something to do with the fact that you were holding the child—doubtful anyone would try to kill you while you carried him.

Armin was nearby, in the hallway inside the house.

There, you realized you were alone on the balcony with Feyre, Rhysand, and their tiny, winged baby in your arms. The discomfort of holding the child returned. You felt like an intruder again, as if you were trespassing on a moment that should be theirs—to hold their child and cherish the beautiful life they had fought so hard to achieve. You were about to muster the courage to say you needed to leave, hoping it would prompt them to take the child from you, but they got there first.

"I think it would be best if I put him to bed," Rhysand said, reaching out to take the baby. You almost sighed in relief, but as soon as Rhysand pulled the child away from you, Nyx’s hand clutched at the fabric of your dress, grabbing the red part that stuck out beneath your cloak, pulling it over your shoulder. Suddenly, three adults were struggling to manage a half-asleep child who had begun to fuss, trying to free his grip without tearing anything.

"Let me get his hand out."

"Nyx, honey, please let go."

"He really has a strong grip," you laughed uncomfortably, now caught between both rulers as they tried to pry their child off you.

"Here, here," Feyre said, taking the toy from one of his hands and guiding his grip from your dress to one of the toy dragon’s wings. "There we go," she whispered as she succeeded, finally freeing the red fabric from his grasp.

You exhaled in relief as Feyre and Rhysand focused on soothing Nyx back to sleep. Rhysand rocked him gently in his arms, while Feyre whispered reassuringly. It was a beautiful sight, and you needed to escape from it, but they were blocking your only way out. You stepped back toward the balcony railing, resting your arms on it and gazing up at the sky.

Breathing through the bond with Balerion, who was already nestled in the mountains, you synchronized with his calm, steady breaths. He dragged his claws over the earth beneath him, and you sighed, feeling the sensation in your palms. The sound of birds above him and the rustling treetops in the breeze grounded you.

The click of approaching stilettos pulled you from your trance, and you turned to see Feyre settling beside you, resting her arms on the railing, her hand dangling near yours. If you moved your fingers, you could intertwine them with hers. You looked back up at the stars and immediately dismissed the thought, folding your hands in front of you, away from both the railing and Feyre.

A comfortable silence stretched between you, carried by the cool night breeze.

"You have something beautiful here, Fey," you whispered, and you knew you’d regret it later, because it revealed too much—because you felt too much saying the words. "I'm glad you found him, after all these years."

“I'm sure the Bay is beautiful,” Feyre said quickly.

“Yes, it is,” you confirmed without hesitation, looking down at your hands and the ring that had been created for you when you took over the Bay. The Bay was, without a doubt, beautiful. There was no denying that. “It used to be called Slaver's Bay; now it's Trinity Bay. And it's so beautiful that sometimes it feels like a dream, as if I'm oblivious to everything around me.”

“I understand,” Feyre assured, and you looked at her to confirm that she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better, which was unusual because your Fey never said things just to please others. But she wasn’t Fey anymore; she was Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court. So you looked to confirm, and she noticed. “Sometimes I still wake up thinking about the routine I had before. I wake up thinking about what I should hunt, buy, or fix in the cabin.” It takes hearing Nyx complain or feeling Rhys beside me to remember I’m no longer there. Other times, it's as simple as the warmth of the blankets, which reminds me, because it was never this warm at home.”

“With those holes in the floor, it was impossible; all the houses in the area used to have that problem,” you recalled with a smile that felt inappropriate, considering how they had once lived in such poverty.

“It was that horrendous, rocky soil. Elain always complained that she couldn't grow plants there. I don't doubt it also made building anything difficult,” Feyre laughed, joining you in the memory without giving it much thought.

“Yes, my mother also complained that you couldn't even make mud to cover holes in the floors or walls. Too many stones, and the soil was too fine; the mud would form but fall apart after it dried.”

“The soil caused the problems and refused to fix them, too.” Feyre laughed again, and you burst out laughing at the remark.

“It was a renegade and spiteful land,” you added, and it wasn’t all that funny, but soon you were both laughing out loud at the idea. The laughter shook your chest in ways you couldn’t control, and for a moment, you were afraid you might go from laughing to crying in ways you couldn’t help.

“The area where our neighborhood was really shouldn’t have been built on,” you admitted as you stopped laughing. “But the town had to move a few generations ago because the nearby river flooded the surrounding area after a year of torrential rains.”

“Really?” Feyre asked, shifting from where she stood beside you. “How do you know?”

“My great-grandfather was among the people who started building away from the river before the floods. They called him paranoid, and they were the only ones who had lived in the river area who survived the floods because he wasn’t there.” You rolled your eyes at the thought. “My father loves this story—something about family pride and being born leaders.”

Feyre nodded silently, clearly tense at the mention of your father. She said nothing about it, but you could feel her irritation from where you stood.

Silence filled the balcony. You could still hear the distant bustle and the clatter of toasting glasses. The night breeze stirred the sleeves of Feyre's dress and the cape of yours.

"I wanted to find you, even when the odds were that you were dead."

It took you a second to realize that the statement, so familiar in your mind, hadn't come from you. You looked at Feyre as if she had grown a third head.

"Feyre, she was sold to a slaver. She would have died looking for me," you told her, straightening, trying to be logical and disabuse her of the idea that she might have found you. She mimicked your posture.

It would have been impossible for her. You had been in the volcano when she might have had the resources—halfway around the world. You stood across from each other now, nose to nose, and you realized you were barely taller than her in your heels.

“I would have,” Feyre admitted firmly, anger bubbling up at your response. “Rhys even offered to build a tomb for you, so I could have some peace—to honor you—but we didn’t because of the news from the Mortal Lands. But I’m immortal now; I would have sought you out beyond my lifetime if I hadn't been bound by logic. You were everything to me in those years—”

She stopped dead in her tracks, stiffening. Recognition crossed her face, and her eyes bore into yours, widening wildly in surprise. A line of panic tightened her jaw before she rocked back as if dizzy. You were about to step forward to support her, but she threw herself against the balcony railing and looked at you in horror.

Something was wrong with her, and you were about to rush to her side, to ask what was wrong. But panic didn’t quite form when a voice called out urgently.

"Your Highness."

You jumped in place when Luka's voice rang from the doorway. He stood there with a stony expression. "Just a word, please."

"Please" was the key. It was urgent. You looked at Feyre, saw her adjusting herself and regaining her balance, and although you should have asked her something anyway—to make sure she wasn’t dizzy or unwell—you walked toward Luka. Rhysand passed by you like a gust of wind, heading toward her, so you focused your gaze on Luka.

When you reached him, Luka leaned toward you, speaking in your ear in an equally flat tone.

"Astapor is under siege."

The statement made you mirror the horror on Feyre's face a moment ago, and you straightened.

“You know what to do,” you instructed, turning to face your hosts.

Rhysand and Feyre stared at each other as if having a silent conversation, and then Rhysand looked at you, his jaw clenched. You didn’t give yourself time to think or worry about any unknown offense he might have committed before speaking.

"I'm afraid we must leave early."

Morrigan and Rhysand ensured that your court arrived safely at the Bay during the night. In the morning, you dressed in complete solitude and silence, putting on your riding habit and harness with a serene expression. You had known that the former slave masters would try to attack when you were away from the Bay, even though many of your dragons were still there to defend it if necessary. They were desperate men; they would do desperate things.

You were just putting on your gloves when a pair of footsteps sounded behind you. You recognized Rhysand without needing to turn around. He remained silent as you finished fitting the leather around your fingers.

“I hope we can finish our talks once the issues at the Bay are resolved.” The phrase was more of a question than a statement, evident from the caution in his tone.

Will you return? That was the real question.

“As agreed in the negotiation treaty we signed, once the war is resolved, negotiations will resume,” you told him as you finished your task, turning to look at him. The way he stood in the doorway, where the morning sun shone directly on him, made you see even more of the man you had been told he was, rather than the mask he wore.

“Feyre will be waiting for you,” he assured you, and for some reason, he seemed to be searching for something in your reaction. You remained expressionless, giving him nothing, until Rhysand stopped. You didn’t know if he had found what he was looking for or not, but you had no time for that.

Neither of you said anything else. There was nothing left to say. Without further ado, you turned around, walking toward the balcony of the room where you had lived for these past weeks—now devoid of any trace that you had ever been there, as it should be.

You climbed up the wall to the roof closest to the balcony and glanced one last time at your room’s balcony, where Rhysand stood, watching you as if he still expected something from you.

You jumped onto Balerion’s back and flew into battle without looking back.

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[stupidlittlespirit]

hello I'm back (I think)

First of all, thank you so much for the well wishes! I really appreciate it, I can't thank you enough <3

Second of all, sorry for just sort of disappearing, it will likely happen again. I hate going silent but I received unfortunate news at the start of the week and it was closely followed by freshly developed health issues. They're probably linked, but I'm going to have to battle with my GP to find out for sure.

I know I don't need to explain myself, but this post is mostly just me getting this off my chest bc I can't do it anywhere else lol.

I've started getting vision loss 'migraines'. I've always lost my vision when I got a migraine, but actually having them was very rare for me. The strangest thing is that I get no headache (which is a plus ig) with the aura, I just abruptly lose vision in my right eye. This happens with no warning and is obviously very disconcerting. I get the same hangover you'd get with a normal one and stuff, and that really throws off my bpd too as I'm sure you can imagine. I get exhausted and I can't think straight.

I also have visual snow syndrome quite badly (which for some reason I cannot for the life of me get my doctor to take seriously) and vertigo/tinnitus in bed. It gets worse when I'm tired and stressed. I have really bad memory issues too, though I think those are ptsd related. I am very concerned that these things are linked and getting worse, and they're clearly neurological. My family history is set up for failure in this department so I'm quite anxious that it could be a sign of something insidious.

Obviously, this post is just me venting and being anxious. I know there is every chance that none of these things are major problems and they're simply stress related, but I'm just yapping this into a text post here because I don't have anywhere else to do it. I'm also sort of forewarning you for if I ever don't reply to messages or anything and just go quiet suddenly.

On top of that, my family have apparently decided peace times are over and are being weird again. Not with me, thankfully, but with each other. I expect it to have a ripple effect. Things are always weird with them, but they go through a kind of 'baseline' weirdness and it can escalate to bananas weirdness very quickly. They're all incredibly manipulative awful people and I think it would be cool if they could just not do that...... I'm safe, I'm not afraid of them, but the whole debacle causes a lot of stress to me and I predict that things will get weirder as time goes on. This is another reason as to why I sometimes may just disappear.

There are a lot of other things going on rn that I haven't mentioned here because they're convoluted and too personal. Things are messy for me irl right now.

If I go very quiet/don't answer you, then I'm not being as dick I'm just busy or taking time away. On top of that, if my fics take longer than usual to update then this is why. I would appreciate not being chased for updates. You're absolutely welcome to ask me how it's going or for sneak peeks or updates, that's all absolutely fine, but just don't be asking stuff like 'when is the next chapter coming out?' or if I've only recently posted a chapter, asking me when the next one is coming. Just take it as you get it and enjoy what you have in the moment. I'm working very hard to get things done, especially with this last chapter of DD.

I looooove talking to you guys about everything so please don't worry about messaging me in general. I will reply eventually, I promise. I don't want you guys to think I'm mad at you or something lol. I am not! If I was then you can trust that I'd politely tell you :) I'm just super tired and overwhelmed, and I prefer to stay offline when I get like that.

Anyways on the plus side I found a cool new j-horror series (Documentary Q) and am working on the next MtB instalment! So we ball i guess! Also it was sunny in the UK for like two days so that's nice. I hope everyone is well <3

[f1-disaster-bi]

Thank you anon for inspiring insomnia fulled WAG Lando au:

"You are being so obvious, you know that right?" Daniel's tone was teasing as he elbowed Max in the ribs. He could feel the older mans gaze on his face, but Max only had eyes for one person as he watched Lando laughing with some fans that had stopped him outside the Red Bull hospitality. Lando looked good like this. Sunglasses perched on his head, disappearing into his curls. His tan skin was golden in the fading sunlight. He wasn't wearing anything fancy, just a simple pair of dark jeans and one of Max's hoodies. His pass for the weekend hanging from a Red Bull lanyard around his neck making sure everyone knew who's guest he was. Max would be lying if he claimed that it didn't stoke something a little primal and warm in his chest to have Lando here like this, wearing his clothes and repping his team. "Seriously, I don't know how no one picked up on this before now", Daniel laughed as they watched Lando pose for a quick selfie with the people that had stopped him, "You haven't been subtle since the moment you laid eyes on him" Max couldn't help but grin at his words because it was true. From the moment he had first tunned into one of Lando's streams, Max had known that Lando was someone he wanted to know. There was a pull in his chest, and even if he hadn't mentioned him that first night, he had followed Lando's social media platforms. It had only taken another week before he had messaged him, and Max could never regret it. "Why would I be subtle when I knew what I wanted?", Max tore his gaze from Lando to look at Daniel, "I have never been anything but blunt" Daniel rolled his eyes fondly at Max but he could tell he was happy for them. Max wasn't the only one that had developed a soft spot for Lando the moment he laid eyes on him. He looked as if he wanted to say more but Lando was already walking back towards them. There was a smile on his face and he slotted himself into Max's side easily. Max didn't even have to think about wrapping his arm around Lando's waist or the kiss he pressed to his cheek. It was as natural as the way Lando's cheeks still flushed pink every time Max was open with his affection. "Sorry about that", Lando leaned into him, tilting his head to look at Max. "And here I thought everyone came here this weekend to see me", Max stated with a smirk that had Lando laughing and Daniel swatting at his arm. "Well I don't know about them, but I am here to see you", Lando teased with a smile, "Might even wear your number and everything tomorrow" All Max could do to quiet the butterflies in his stomach was lean in to kiss him softly, ignoring the way Daniel cleared his throat after a moment because he didn't care. Nothing mattered more to him than the man in his arms right now, and tomorrow he was going to win the race for Lando just to kiss him at the barrier in while Lando wore his name and number.

[hinamie]

tiger lily

[arsenicflame]

Bonus round! Do you use a queue tag?

[redbootsindoriath]

Welcome to I-just-realized-that-I-only-posted-4-times-in-the-whole-of-last-year. I was largely uncreative throughout 2023 and 2024, unfortunately, but I think I've finally compiled enough stuff for a short queue as a sort of apology to you guys. A lot of the art is over six months old, some of it from more than a year ago, which means I get to dust off my backlog tag again.

A majority of the queue is going to be stuff from my own original works, which I am aware is not the reason most of you guys follow my blog, but alas, the artist must be a slave to the muse. Last month I picked up writing again more than 5 years after setting aside my main writing project, so there's been a lot of character design and other worldbuilding taking up most of my free time lately. Which is exciting for me, but I know it's nothing compared to Tolkien's legendarium and I apologize for that. Unfortunately I haven't worked on much Tolkien stuff for quite a while, which is going to make this a very unusual and jumbled series of posts with artwork from all across the board. Some of it is going to be unfinished in a big way: stuff I meant to share here when it was done but never got around to finishing.

First post should be up tomorrow at 11 a.m. GMT (I think), and then one per day at that same time until the queue runs out.

[acediaedeus]

he was a punk, she did ballet typa story with grimmichi, but both of them are punk, and both of them do ballet.

this one is an AU where they're just humans, but Ichigo is still a weirdo who sees ghosts, cause why the fuck not. also, long-haired Grimmjow.

in Ichigo's case, it's that he did ballet. why? let's imagine Masaki sending Yuzu to ballet classes when she's four because the girl is fascinated by the beautiful women dancing in white tutus on TV in one of her mum's shows. Masaki is afraid her small, gentle, and shy daughter will have a hard time making friends with all the new kids, so she tries to convince Karin to go with her sister, at least for the first few classes, but the girl is unwavering in her refusal. she would hate to pressure her children into anything, so accepts, and as a last resort goes to her older son. young and filled with the desire to protect his family and please his mother, Ichigo says he'll go with Yuzu.

and so on top of his karate, Ichigo also does ballet for a while, so his baby sister will have an easier time adjusting. he actually likes it too, but then mum dies, and the beautiful women dancing on TV she used to watch no longer bring fascination, only tears. so they no longer do ballet and that is that.

everything else after that is much the same: Ichigo gets bullied, puts the karate classes to use and becomes a delinquent. all is well until one day Yuzu comes to him, timid and unsure, putting Ichigo on high alert, fearing someone has hurt his sister (a big mistake they'll regret and learn not to repeat), but all she says is that she wants to try dancing again. he, of course, encourages her to try.

like the good older brother Ichigo is, he comes along for her first class as moral support. Yuzu is amazing, as expected, and he definitely feels some water in his eyes watching her dance, which no one needs to know that. BUT, there's this guy, who seems to be his age, training on the opposite side of the room. beautiful and mesmerizing, and so ethereal Ichigo can hardly look away. the way he moves is enchanting, his long blue hair swaying and spiralling into a snake with each spin. he leaves with a happy Yuzu for their little sibling celebration with Karin, filled to the brim with confusion.

time goes on, but he simply can't get the guy out of his head, and one evening he comes to walk Yuzu home (he is not about to let his baby sister walk alone in the darkness of winter). he's a little early, so the class is yet to finish, but oh wait, there's the guy standing outside. one thing leads to another aaaand... they're fighting. positively rolling on the ground like children. and like a child Grimmjow (cause that's his name apparently, which Ichigo doesn't even remember when he was told that) bites his hand, so like a child Ichigo tugs on his blue hair. it's soft and nice, and he's getting distracted. but then Yuzu is yelling at him, calling him a foolish boy (and he won't even argue, because he really is a fool).

so yes, turns out they both were punks and both did ballet.

[cabbagestrand]

to that anon who always reminds me of diakko week, bless you and thank you so much. i wouldve really loved to participate but ive really been busy the past years, was hectic yall. just wanna shout out that person, whoo, ill try and drop something before i disappear again for the final(!) semester. heres a chilling capybara i sculpted tho!

[dizzybizz]

npc shopkeeper-ass doggy. he sells things he finds outside.

[jopjab]

hi sorry i died again i was busy drawing nothing but prsk characters/vsynths in chiikawa art style for 3 days straight

[arthur-lesters-tummy]

day 63 of the dreamlands

soo me and @arthur-lesters-ribcage got out the sewers! (see day 61) apparently @arthur-lesters-tits and @arthur-lesters-slutty-waist got married? though their party barely met the requirements of being one so i invited everyone at the hotel and folks from the taverns to the rooftop for a proper celebration.

we got punch with who knows what in it, fairy lights, people are playing beer pong, sending balls off the side and hitting pedestrians on the street below. and SOMDBODY has been barbequing burgers which smell like shit, knock it off!

i got a job offshore so i'll be leaving tommorrow. if you want to confess your undying feelings for me, now would be the time to do so; i'm sure we could squeeze in another marriage before morning. i should be back in 2 weeks but you know how these things go...