#But she still has wrinkles and signs of age on her face and we know how people are about that 🙄

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

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Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t now. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[simplydannie]

Introducing “mini fics”! I am refocusing myself to work and finish my main stories, but sometimes I’ll take a break and let my mind wonder. Mini fics aren’t meant to be carried on for more parts or continuation. They are short sweet stories (maaayyybe angst) that are just purely one-shots and “what ifs” in my AU to just enjoy. They’ll serve has place holders while I finish some main stories and art stuff that I tend to put off. So enjoy!

Vivian and Vaughn have a surprise for their twins… but it’s not the surprise they are expecting…

Velvet and Veneer had just returned from school. They sat on the couch, both wondering what in the world was going on.

“Did you do something and blame me?” Veneer turned to his twin, arching an eyebrow. He wore his usual attire: a red button up, short sleeve shirt tucked into his high waisted black jeans. It was left unbuttoned to reveal his black undershirt underneath. On his head at his favorite purple beanie that had belonged to his dad, and his favorite white and golden sneakers.

“Woooowww, really? You think that of me bro?” Velvet studied herself in the mirror, tucking in a loose strand of hair. Her black pleaded skirt wrinkles, an oversized dark pink sweater with a white collar underneath. Like he brother, she sported white and gold high tops, her purple scrunchie laying on her hair.

“Well cause it’s what you do! Why else would mom and dad tell us to wait here when we got back from school.”

“Hmmm, yeah you were right I probably did then. I just don’t remember what they heck it is.” She studied her nails unimpressed.

“One day Vels, I’ll get you back one day..”

Their conversation was broken as their mother made her way down the stairs.

“Oh good you’re home!” Vivian chimed, “Vaughn! Vaughn! They’re home!!” She squealed, running to the living room drawer pulling out a small box. Their father came down the stairs, a genuine look of embarrassment on his face.

“Perhaps just wait till you-…” He began to say.

“What? No!! I was so happy to tell you now we tell them together!” She went over pulling her husband's arm to join her.

“I just know what they’re going to say.” Vaughn crossed his arms as he looked at his twins with his ice, blue eyes.

“Did we do something?” Veneer asked.

“No sweetheart! Me and your father have a surprise for both of you!” Vivian smiled.

This peaked their attention. They both stood up walking over towards their parents, a gleeful look in their eyes.

“Oh my gosh! A vacation! We’re going on a vacation!” Velvet smiled.

“Well… no not-…”

“Oh! Dad got a new limo!! We’ll be going to school in a new limo! The one that has the little kitchen inside! I could eat my breakfast to school now!” Veneer clapped excitedly.

“Seriously…” Vaughn looked at both of them, “What children did we raise?”

“Spoiled ones dad, spoiled ones.” Velvet smirked.

“Listen. It’s nothing like that. Though it’s something you can do all that stuff with.” Vivian said. The twins looked at her with confusion in their eyes. She handed them the tiny box, Velvet took it in her hands and opened it…. Her eyes shot wide…

“You’re kidding me!!”

Veneer peeked, “A stick? Is that a thermometer? There’s a plus sign. Does that mean someone is sick?”

“No Ven…” She eyes her parents, “This means mom is pregnant!”

“Surprise!” Vivian exclaimed.

A smile crossed Veneer's face, “Do I finally get to be a big brother?”

“Yes! Both of you have been promoted to older siblings!” She clapped her hands in excitement. Veneer squealed, hugging his mother.

Velvet shot a deadly glance at her dad, “Ew guys really!! At your age!”

Vaughn shrugged, “We still got it. Why not?”

“Gross dad! It’s called being careful! Being cautious! PROTECTION! Now I have to pay the price…”

“And here we go… the rant.” Vaughn cued.

“I had to deal with a little sibling for seventeen years!”

“Girl, you’re only three minutes older.”

“Regardless! Now I have to be seventeen years older to another little brat! Why do you guys make me suffer? Do you really hate me this much!”

Vivian pulled both her daughter and son into a hug, “So dramatic. I wonder where she gets that from.” She smirks towards her husband.

“No idea.”

“Our family is growing! I have trouble getting pregnant already, so being able to have a second time… it’s a miracle sweetheart.”

Velvet's anger simmered… it was true. Her mother called them her miracle babies after struggling for so long. The fact that she still was able to was amazing enough. She let out a heavy sigh.

“Fine… As long as it’s a girl.” Velvet pouted.

“I don’t care, I just wanna be the coolest big brother! Oh! Mom, dad can I please go shopping when you two go for baby stuff. Pleeeaaassseeee.” Veneer begged.

Vivian giggles, “Of course!”

Velvet glares at her father, punching him playfully in the arm, “Please calm yourself down next time old man.”

Vaughn couldn’t help but smile.

[jane-the-virgin0]

Knocking at death's door

WOOOO it took a metric hour for me to decide that making an Obi-Wan fic would be a good idea!

summary: ~right before ROTS~ you're the Princess of a foreign land, about to be Queen. your father, although unknown to you, is Palpatine (pls suspend your disbelief), and you have force lightning powers. your powers have been sensed by the Grand Council and they know that you'll be recruited to the dark side, so they send Obi-Wan and Anakin to kill you before you can be used as a weapon. your life is doomed from the start, but Obi-Wan can't complete his mission.

pairing: Obi-Wan/reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

warnings: violence (it is Star Wars), eventual smut, fluff, angst, death, age gap (reader is 24)

chapters: 1/?

w/c: 1258 (this is just a teaser, if people like it, next one will be longer!)

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

“Wake up, Princess…”

“Hm? Who is there?”

I smacked my lips together and slowly raised myself from under the covers, hand reaching up to feel how tangled my hair got in my sleep. It was bad.

“Princess, you have to get ready for the day. Your mother desires you downstairs before breakfast is to be served.”

Frowning, I turned to my bedside to see my handmaiden Issla drawing open the curtains, allowing bright sunbeams to pierce my eyes, making it impossible to rest my eyes for a few more minutes, as was usually customary to my morning routine.

I thought it best to listen, her demeanor was usually a lot more calm. I watched her hurried movements, tidying up my drawers, fluffing the pillows on the sofa, pouring water for me to wash my face, and I ran through a list of reasons that today could be so important.

“It tis not my mothers birthday, nor is it a festival day, why is there a hurry to ready this morning?”

Issla eyed me like a hawk. “I do not know, Princess. I was told to make sure you were presentable before thirty past seven, so I would make haste.”

Rolling out of bed, I went through the motions of my familiar routine, all while pondering the reason for today’s excitement. After pulling on a dark green gown, Issla escorted me to the Grand Hall.

“Please let me know if you need anything later, Princess.” I could sense the double meaning in her words. She gripped my hands tightly, and gently released them after giving them a second small squeeze.

Nodding at her, I turned around to enter the Hall. “Khoan. Valsi.” I smiled at the two guards in front of the door. With a push of heavy oak, I was led into the Hall. I spotted my mother, the Queen, sitting on the ornate wooden throne on the other side of the room. Even though the rest of the council was speaking to her, her eyes never left me as I walked towards them. Even turning my gaze downwards, I could still feel her eyes staring holes through me.

“Good morning, my Princess.” The council echoed.

“You are late.”

“Sorry, my Queen, I was unsure what we would be discussing.”

“No reason to keep us waiting.”

“My apologies.”

A beat of silence.

“Anyways, let me continue. As you know, your birthday is coming up in a couple months. After a long deliberation with my trusted council, I have decided it would be in the best interest of the realm to step down as Queen.”

I gasped. “But moth-my Queen, if I may speak freely, that is insanity!”

She smiles mournfully at me. “My child, you of all people should know that I am aging, like all humans before me. You will be turning twenty and five, of the same age as myself when I bore the crown. The realm has entered a golden age. There has been no bloodshed or needless death since my mother wore the crown ages ago. You are ready, my child.”

It is true, I have not had a long look at her in a while. She shows the signs of her age, smile lines and forehead wrinkles adorn her face, and her hair, which used to flow jet black, is now almost solidly white. Despite this, her eyes are just as wise and sharp as they were when I was a child.

“Is this what you called me here to tell me?” I said, my shock overriding my ability to speak formally in front of the court.

“Partially. I was notified by the Grand Council that two Jedi - excuse me, a Jedi and his padawan would be coming to oversee part of your training for the throne.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when has it been standard that a Jedi and his padawan train me to bear the crown? Should they not have better things to do? And what do they know of ruling a realm?”

“I too, was surprised that the Grand Council took notice of our happenings. I have been informed that they wish to teach you how to protect yourself, as well as the proceedings of the Senate, which you must attend.”

“I understand, your Grace. But could you not tell them no?”

The Royal Advisor barked out a short laugh.

“If I may interrupt, your Grace…” The Queen nodded.

He turned towards me. “You do not simply tell the Grand Council ‘no.’ They control all the goings-on in the galaxy. Trust me, they do know what is best.”

Accepting defeat, I turned back to my mother. “When do they plan to arrive, my Queen?”

She hit me back with a dazzling smile. “They should be here before breakfast.”

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

“What the hell!” I angrily picked at the skin on my fingers, tearing my right thumb to shreds.

“Careful, my Princess, you will bleed all over your dress-” Issla attempts to grab my thumb, but I turn away.

“Why does my mother think I need outside guidance to become the Queen! Her mother never would have dared bring in outsiders to tell her how to rule her kingdom!”

“Please, quiet your voice,” Issla begged.

“No! I can’t believe she let the Grand Council decide her own daughter’s fate.” I turned around once more and set my sights on the dining room, striding forward. “When those Jedi bastards arrive, I’m going to give them some words to choke-”

Not waiting for the guards at the door to let me in, I pushed the wooden handle forward, rushing into the room, Issla on my tail.

“Darling! Please, come meet the Jedi and his padawan.”

I took in a breath. Standing next to the Queen were two men. Both of them tall, and much younger than I was expecting. We never had Jedi on our planet before. Of course, the Queen had told me stories of them when she went to the Senate, but in her stories, she made them sound rather plain; always guarding the galaxy, following what was asked of them, protecting rulers.

The padawan looked more bored than anything. He kept glancing around the table, at the spread of food that was waiting for us. I could tell that his Jedi master was annoyed with him. He kept his eyes on me as I approached, but placed his arm on his padawan's shoulder to redirect his attention. He held my gaze with a firm yet kind smile, one that showed he meant no harm.

“This is my daughter, the Princess.”

They both bowed slightly, the Jedi more so than his padawan.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is my padawan, Anakin Skywalker. My Princess, we look forward to serving you to the best of our abilities.”

I nodded at him, unimpressed. 

“If you wish, we can begin acquainting ourselves and discussing our purpose?” 

The Queen smiled. “Yes! That would be lovely! Let us enjoy breakfast while we talk.”

Anakin seated himself quickly, grabbing at some of the fruit that was closest to him.

“Anakin! I’m sorry, my Grace, my Princess. It seems as though I have neglected to teach him proper manners.” 

The Queen smiles at Obi-Wan. “Not to worry! It has been a long journey. Come, let us eat!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Anakin smirking at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan frowning back.

Perhaps having to be near Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker would prove a more interesting experience than I had thought.

[tavyliasin]

Fandom Essay - Body Positivity and Validation

Good timezone darlings~ Lia is back at it again with some examination of BG3 Fandom and some more of the wonderful things we can find within it. This time we are talking about representation of different physical features. If you feel this might be a little much for you, either in regards to your relationship to your body or any potential dysphoria, please feel free to skip it. Second disclaimer that I will be mentioning trans and nonbinary people here from the perspective of a Cis person - this is absolutely not my right to speak for or over anyone so I thoroughly welcome the voices of those with lived experiences to join in the comments with their input, but I also did not want to leave the topic out of the discussion and you may just see why as we get into it~ So on with today's long title:

How FanWorks Can Be Important To Self Acceptance And Body Positivity - The Next "Callout Essay" from TavyliaSin (Who is calling herself out with these too) ((there are reasons it feels targeted I know where to aim)) (((but honestly it's fine it's all positive I promise)))

Today we will be discussing: body types, disability representation (only a little though, this one may need a full post of its own), body size, gender (and gender euphoria), scars and "imperfections", visible ageing. This will be through the lens of both the canon inclusion and everything we see in mods, edits, and fan creations of all kinds. As usual I will use sub headers and encourage anyone to skip what makes them uncomfortable, as well as to join the discussion~ so let's begin, shall we?

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What Does Body Positivity Mean?

Let's start off with the simple one. Body positivity doesn't mean promoting any one body type as the ideal or as better than any others, it is about being positive about the mortal flesh vessels we inhabit and all of their features. A lot of people can find this difficult, to love oneself or even just accept oneself, especially in a highly critical society. But that is where representation and even fan creations can step in - by being vocal and loud about appreciating features that people may feel negative about in themselves, we can help build up confidence and self worth, as well as reminding all of us that we do not have to look a certain way to be desirable and desired~

How Does This Relate To Baldur's Gate 3?

On the surface, we do have a lot of characters with more conventionally accepted body types in the main cast and romance characters, though it is worth noting that the base models were updated to be less "Hollywood muscles" on a couple of characters, which made more sense to the character stats and backstories (unless Gale was working out every day in his tower, he's not that much like a bodybuilder physique).

But aside from this, when you look closer, there's also an awful lot to appreciate in the standard character designs. A lot of these are things which fans pick up on and adore, despite how they may be features that people are actively bullied for or that are seen as undesirable by beauty standards. Those "beauty standards" can get in the trash too, but I'll use it here to point out the things we are shining a positive light on in the face of those societal values~ Karlach - Our tall queen, strong and muscular and not particularly feminine with her tattoos, piercings, and hairstyle. But she is adored for all of those things, even her broken horn is an important feature, alongside the glowing heart and fire that have some in the game view her as monstrous until they look closer and know her. Astarion - His laugh lines. Gods don't we love those? The wrinkles in his face are experience, and of course he has those signs of exhaustion in his eyes that make him so much more relatable to many of us. Lae'zel - This might feel like cheating as she's not human, and is less human-like than most of the other characters, but in a way that is also an important one. She's still desirable and treated as such in the romances, as well as very much adored by the fans. Gale - The little signs of ageing and stress mark Gale's face, and even the hints of greying in his hair are picked up on and chewed on by those who love him most. Wyll - More on him later but honestly is he not the poster boy for physical acceptance? Not only do we have his initial appearance with the stone eye but with one choice his entire body is completely changed and part of his story is arguably learning to live with this and how his new look is likely going to be seen as everything he ever feared. Halsin - Are we cheating with BIG TALL MUSCLE MOUNTAIN because many people find this attractive to start with? Maybe, but again he has clear signs of ageing, as well as very obvious facial scarring. His look might easily be described as fearsome, and yet his personality couldn't be further from it. Raphael - Hello there lovers of older men, who look at each one of those wrinkles and his brow lines and start sweating a bit more. I'm with you, he's gorgeous because of those signs of aging, not despite them. Abdirak - Our real poster boy for scars and visible wounds. Features which have long been given only to villainous characters in fiction (particularly that aimed at younger audiences) and yes he is one of the most violent characters, but he is also immediately deeply sympathetic to the player. So we are no longer equating scars/visual difference with pure evil. In general we have a lot of features that are not overly smoothed out or homogenised to fit certain standards. We have different nose shapes, visible pores, scars, acne marks, wrinkles, greying hair, moles, freckles, body hair, and a lot of variety across face shapes and features. It makes the characters feel more real, more relatable, and seeing features closer to our own can be comforting and validating in a lot of ways. Of course there are more examples, and far more we could say about each one of these and all the things that make them unique that we love about them, but we would be here all day and there are other topics to cover!

What About The Player Characters?

So we do have a range of fantasy races, many of which arguably don't represent real humans at all, and we do also lack variation in body types in the standard game. But we also have player characters with shorter statures with the dwarves, halflings and gnomes. Beyond just being part of the lore and story, there is some representation here for similar body types in real life. I can't say a lot on this as I neither have personal experience nor do I personally know anyone who could speak on how they feel about these races in comparison to lived experiences, but it would be equally unfair to leave the point out of the conversation - please do add something in the comments if you have the knowledge and emotional bandwidth to spare, I would love to hear about your experiences and opinions! Aside from this we have a wide range of skin tones (though my own is too close to plain paper to be able to tell you if this is anywhere near adequate so please feel free to weigh in with lived experience here) as well as scars and other features in the character creation. There's also vitiligo pigmentation, which is not only representing the condition but also normalising it to those who aren't familiar and making some rather beautiful options for our characters in my opinion. Even in the hair styles there are a couple of options featuring thinner hair or baldness patterns. There are less options for textured hairstyles and the facial features are equally limited, but there are some truly gorgeous mods out there which I'll mention later.

Player Characters And Gender

Another caveat to please weigh in with your lived experiences, but this one is one that I've seen friends enjoy and it was really wonderful to see that delight. Being able to select pronouns, genitals, body type, and voice all independently of each other is something which is so vastly meaningful to a lot of players. To some it might just be "oh cool I get to choose what my character looks like naked", but to a nonbinary friend of mine... Well, they were sending me happy, joyful, and what can only be described as "delightfully shouty" messages when they were in character creation. To paraphrase, and to tone it down just a little, it went something like this:

"Wait you mean I can have a character look and exist the way I want to be? I can actually have myself represented on screen, and nobody will misgender me, and nobody will decline a romance based on any of this?!"

Maybe it seems silly but I got tearful to see them just absolutely losing it over having these options. They've been stuck with binary options in most fantasy RPGs for so long... Of course there's still things that could be improved, there always will be, but that joy? Priceless. It meant something in that moment and I hope it will continue to mean something to a lot more people in many moments to come. Of course there are still flaws - the faces and bodies are still gender matched, and it isn't possible for people to refine the size and shape of player character chests. In some ways really what we have is the bare minimum, a start that needs to go further, but seeing as there have been precious few games in the genre to even reach this low bar it is good to recognise it, to say "this brought people joy and is worth the effort to make it happen", and to say "please go further because there is genuine interest."

What About Mods?

This is where we can see a lot more of that positivity flourishing. There are countless options, from having more hairstyles and hair types, to face shapes and features, all the way to body types and adding in top surgery scars. Giving the game the ability to be modded, and potentially even encouraging and supporting it, means we can see so much more of that body positivity and representation. Having a hero who shares your features, seeing romances play out where the characters are valued in every way just as they are. Being able to mod softer and wider body types to the Origin characters too, taking the form away from the bodybuilder/model physique and far closer to more average - and undeniably still devastatingly attractive - body types. Seeing the trans-Origin character headcanons portrayed too, that's just so utterly divine~ (There is a lot to be said about parallels to LGBTQIA+ experiences in the Origin storylines, too, so feel free to comment on those at the end if you would like to) To all of you out there making mods, and sharing the characters you've created using other peoples' mods - thank you! I adore seeing all of these, as well as people's happiness in sharing and using them too~

I don't even use mods, honestly darlings I'm not the best with tech at times and as I'm spending vastly more hours writing than playing it's likely not as worth it for me - especially when people share the modded content for us all to enjoy in videos and screenshots. But I love how many there are, that they exist, and all the ways they give people joy and euphoria to see their own body types and/or body types they find to be desirable~

But Wasn't This Post About Fandom and Fan Creations?

It was - and is! Because after all of the content you can get in the base game and in the modded version, what comes after is where the fans go with it from there.

That's truly where we get the most body positivity and joy. Headcanons leave the head and pour onto the page. We see characters reimagined a hundred times, each with their own twist, their own enthusiasm both from the creator and from fans just eating up every piece that comes out. There's so much variety there seems to be almost anything you could wish for with almost any character, and I can guarantee you that if there's something you'd like to see and aren't seeing out there, there will be an artist willing to work on the idea (most likely on commission basis, we do prefer to ensure our artists can eat after all, but there may be some willing to just adopt ideas to draw as their own too). This even extends to cosplay, with gender-swapped characters, as well as the one thing I will always be vocal about in cosplay - everyone should be allowed to wear the character costumes they love regardless of body types or how well their body/face matches the original character. Though this does come with the caveat that skin should never be darkened to match a character's look (if that character has a natural type skin tone, obviously green etc is not an issue) - just be your own version of the character if you adore them enough to put the costume together.

And your work?...

Thank you for asking Lia, let me answer that one for you. Of course, take it away, Lia! Ahem silliness aside, there is something you might or might not have noticed in my writing. I don't do a lot of body-type description. You can imagine whatever you like as you read - Gale with a soft tummy to snuggle? Yes please! Or you can imagine him with sculped abs, or a more slender frame - whatever brings you the most joy to read. This is especially true for anything I do with gender neutral character fics (usually "character x Reader"/2nd person pieces) - I try to stay away from any specific gendered features and focus on actions and sensations which can be common to any body.

How Does This All Add Up To Body Positivity?

Simple, love - by sharing and making all of these works we are saying "these features are beautiful, we love them, we want to see more of them as we fall head over heels time and time again". It might not seem like a lot, but the mind is both powerful and very easily open to suggestion. If a person keeps seeing negative things about a feature they have (eg, as a mild example body hair on women/feminine people) they will internalise that and wish to change themselves (eg, waxing/shaving/etc). In the case of a bit of body hair that might not seem drastic, but it still changes how someone feels about themselves. At the end of the day, the more we love ourselves the easier it is to look after ourselves and be happy in the mortal flesh vessels we pilot around this terribly strange universe~ For my part, I have seen my body shape which I had struggled with shown time and time again as "wow look at this character who looks this way, they are amazing! I love this feature, and that feature, and the way the artist made sure to include this particular thing-" Every time I see that, every time I see parts of myself I struggle with being applauded and appreciated, I feel a little brighter. A little more comfortable. A little more like I am allowed to dress it up nicely and spend time and care to feel good about it. I also feel less shame for old scars, for every part of myself that has made me look at the mirror with unkind eyes. Confidence is not a single brick, it's many that need to be built carefully with the right cement. If it is chipped away at too many times, even by little self-deprecating "jokes", it will erode. It will crack. It will wear away piece by piece instead of building up. And before anyone decides to try equating weight and health, darling this is not the place. If you truly care about someone's wellbeing, leave their health to the private discussions they have with their doctors, and remember that looking after oneself is far easier from a place of loving oneself. If you care about a thing, you want to look after it. If you see a thing as already broken, you're less likely to be cautious in how you handle it.

Where does this essay end?

Well, I believe that would be here. With the endless gratitude for every creator out there bringing us mods, images, fiction, art, cosplay, content of all of these wonderful characters in every incredible variation that we can think of. I encourage those of you who are feeling lower in confidence about yourselves to really look at the fan responses to these creations - the excitement and desire for every body type, every feature, everything that we might see of ourselves and dislike there are so many people out there seeing those exact same features we have and feeling nothing but attraction, desire, love, adoration, and praise~ We are often our own worst critics, but not one of those characters would ever reject us, neither are we rejecting any of our favourites when we see them on the screen. I certainly hope to see more games bringing us this variety, and going further too. There is power in fiction and fan-works, and it is helpful to recognise it too.

Apologies if this one felt too long, rambling, or like I lost my point - it was done over 3 days and I'm rather tired~ I have other essays coming in the next few weeks too, and I really would love to hear your opinions on any of them~

As a final note - please do add your own views and experiences on the topic! I can only offer my own as a disabled white cisgender asexual/bisexual/panromantic woman with too much time on her hands~ I neither wish to ignore experiences outside of my own nor speak over them. All I can offer is what I see, what I hear, and of course my endless love to all of you~ That, my very dear darlings, is never in doubt. I love you just the way you are, because of who you are, and will see the beauty in everything that makes up the sum of your wonderful selves~

[casskeeps]

peplos kore

basic information

name: peplos kore

date: 540-520 bce

artist: unknown (but potentially the rampin master)

function: votive offering to athene on the acropolis

size: 1.2m (just under life-size)

original, reconstructed, or copy: original in parian marble

subject

this is another kore ! we are not quite sure who she is supposed to depict, but some archaeologists suggest that she depicts a goddess - we won't be able to know the truth until we know what was on her head and in her hands. we can see that she has bore holes in her head and right hand, which suggest that she could have worn a crown or wreath on her head, and potentially have held a bow or shield. here's a link to the gods in colour exhibition, which recreated some of the ideas for how she might have looked !

context

in 540-520 bce, we are approaching the late archaic period - sculptors are moving from highly idealised and geometric forms to a more nuanced and naturalistic representation of people.

composition

the kore's pose is still very much influenced by the egyptian grid-block technique; her pose is largely cylindrical, with the feet close together (and possibly engulfed in the drapery), and her right arm by her side, in a similar position to kouroi of the period. notably, however, her left arm extends forward into the frontal plane, disrupting the symmetry and adding variation into this largely self-contained composition.

the anatomy of the sculpture is obscured by the heavy garment (more information on this later!), in much the same way as the berlin standing goddess. however, we see a marked development in facial and head anatomy when looking at this gorgeous girl!! her ears, while still slightly reminiscent of the volutes in the new york kouros, are more naturally sized and lifelike, and we can see holes in her earlobes where earrings may have been placed. her face is much more naturalistic; instead of the exaggerated cheeks of the berlin standing goddess, she has a gentle and subtle archaic smile, which does succeed in its intention of providing the statue with vitality and expression. we also see more of the form underneath the drapery in the peplos kore - her belt is angled gently as her stomach protrudes slightly, demonstrating a sensitive (carefully considered) approach to the interaction of the clothes with the anatomy underneath. we also see more of the shape of her chest and arms - the latter particularly from behind, where we can see the outline of her arms from underneath the cape.

the kore, as per the archaic tradition, depicts a modestly dressed female figure, without facial wrinkles or signs of aging, yet slightly developed in the anatomical form - there is curvature in the chest to demonstrate the existence of the breasts, although the furthest protruding area of her bust has been knocked off. her name is also a misnomer - despite being called the peplos kore, her garment does not have pins at the shoulders, and so is unlikely to actually be a peplos.

emotion is created in this statue using the archaic smile, but also the eyes and eyebrows - her eyebrows, while still reminiscent of the gull-wings of earlier statues, are arched and delicate, while her eyes are alert and large yet not insectoid; this effect could be heightened by the fact that we can see the remainders of paint used to depict her large irises. the main difference between the expression of the peplos kore and the berlin standing goddess is the subtlety of the expression, and this subtlety is what makes the peplos kore's expression so aesthetically appealing and effective.

the kore, while under life-sized, is largely proportional, making the statue appear more lifelike and naturalistic, despite saving on cost of materials by reducing the amount of marble needed for the sculpture.

the peplos kore, while not wearing a peplos, has been considered to be wearing a cape draped over what is potentially an anatolian long dress. the depiction of these garments is much more simple than the berlin standing goddess - the sculptor has focused more on the human form underneath the garment than the drapery obscuring the anatomy. this is evident in the lack of detail in the sculpture of the drapery - it is largely cylindrical and smooth, which could be argued to increase the sense of stillness in the statue, but could also be argued to detriment the naturalism of the kore. there is detail, however, in the painting of the drapery - the artist has carefully painted a repeating wave pattern across the border of the back of the cape. this demonstrates an extraordinary attention to detail and care in the painting and creation of this statue.

stylistic features

if you've guessed archaic smile, you're right! it's used to add life and vitality, and looks slightly less unsettling in this sculpture than in some others - this is mainly due to her coolly passive expression and the subtlety of her smile.

her left arm, now lost, was made of a separate piece of stone, which has since been lost! this is particularly cool because it demonstrates a marked intent to break through the frontal plane - another interesting example of this is the cretan bull metope from the temple of zeus at olympia (notably over 83-55 years later - 465-457 bce)!!

the peplos kore also demonstrates a common technique in the archaic period - polychromy. we see evidence of this in the red colour of her hair and irises, and also in the dark blue of her belt and the wave pattern on the back of her cape.

scholars

boardman: "perhaps the finest of all the ladies from athens"

woodford: "one of the most delightful"

woodford: "the drapery is treated in broad, simple masses. it is enlivened by slight irregularities .. to convey a sense of the body it conceals"

extra sources

the acropolis museum

smarthistory (dr bulger)

a watercolour painting from when the statue was first discovered !

[toasecretsanta]

A New Future

A gift for @littleredniacurutu written by @ithinkiamafungi, using the prompt “Apollo and Rachel friendship”

Warnings for blood and major character death

"Hi".

Rachel looked up from her book as Apollo made his way inside.

Today he was sporting a new look, like an actor in his 40s, light stubble on face, white button up shirt and crimson pants.

Over the years, many young children at the camp had asked Rachel the same question, "But how do you recognize him every time!?" the answer was simple, his aura was unmistakable.

Rachel was in her seventies. her hair was more silver and whiter than red. she had wrinkles around her face. and her power of divine visions didn’t stop her eyesight to decline either. she has been using glasses since she entered her 40s.

But Apollo had no sign of aging like that on him. Because some kind of immortal god he was. immortals don’t age. time is stagnant for them. Even then, his aging was visible to her, it was visible in his every disguise. every new look he chose for himself in honor of some event every couple of months.

Rachel wondered who was he honoring today.

She greeted him with a smile, "I can’t believe you are here on your own free will".

"I am not here on my own free will and you know that". he said, making air quotes at “free will”. Then he sighed. "But I am here anyways".

Rachel couldn’t help but smile at that.

"Come here. I got a vision last night, so I painted it".

She brought him towards the freshly painted canvas.

It was image of a girl, blonde. with dark blue eyes and flecks of green in them. She had freckles on her warm golden-brown skin.

"pretty" Apollo commented.

"She is" Rachel admitted.

"No, I was talking about the painting" Apollo hesitated "but you are right. The girl is pretty, too".

Rachel blushed, then swatted at Apollo’s arm.

"Thanks. Now, I tried to find the girl but I had no success. maybe you can try with your divine powers, get a hint" Rachel requested.

She turned from the painting to look at Apollo, who was staring at her with a mixed expression, it looked like concern to Rachel, but Apollo masked it quickly.

"Yeah, yeah sure. " Apollo said and closed his eyes.

"Uhm, Esperanza Golde, 13-year-old, mortal. She lives in Cali. " He spoke.

"Great, I think we should visit her".

Apollo hesitated again. His hesitation was starting to annoy Rachel. She wanted to get over with this task fast, before she changed her mind, but she didn’t want to explain this to Apollo, because he would totally abort this little mission of theirs once he knew.

Apollo snapped his finger twice and teleported them to a new location.

They were standing behind a tree on a low hill now.

A group of kids were having a picnic at the foot of the hill on the soft grass.

And then Rachel spotted her, Esperanza. She was chatting cheerfully with her friends, Esperanza was dressed in all black, she had safety pins hanging from the torn areas in her ripped jeans, yet as Rachel observe her, she grew more and more fond of her with each passing minute, she reminded her of… Nico Di Angelo.

The demigod passed away a long time ago, but he was one of his kind, a rare soul,

she remembered meeting him when he was still angry at Percy, she remembered him sitting besides her when she became the new oracle because he was scared when he saw her life flicker away at that one sensitive moment.

She remembered receiving visions of him being in new Rome but never understanding them until really late when it was revealed that there was a roman camp as well, she remembered the visions of Tartarus, the moment when he brough Athena Parthenos at ChB,

the moments she spent with him afterwards, painting and chatting away, his pretty smile, his threatening scowl, his earthshaking powers, and soul wrenching kindness. She remembered it all at that moment seeing Esperanza.

Rachel wiped at a glass eye. 

“I want to test her” Apollo jerked her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“I want to test her, is she ready for the task yet, I don’t know Rachel. She seems fragile. Compared to you, I don’t think she would be able to host the oracle”

Rachel stared at him blankly, his face was giving away no emotion. What about this girl Apollo couldnt see as potential, she appeared as if she was born for this.

She wondered if Apollo was putting up a pretense, a defense wall, as if he was bottling up a lot of things inside him. Rachel wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to remove her focus from the task at hand. Because she wanted this, she wished she could do it on her terms, as and when she felt comfortable, and right now felt the rightest time.

At last, she decided to speak up.

“Don’t compare her to me Apollo, don’t do that, she looks perfect to me but, I won’t stop you from testing her, if you want to do that, go ahead. “

“I will pay a visit to her dreams tonight” Apollo told her and then teleported them back to Rachel’s cave and vanished himself after greeting a quick good bye.

Rachel was alone, she was tired, and the more she tried to process Apollo’s behavior today, or the past few days really, the more stressed she got. She remembered the day when he told Apollo she wants them to find a new oracle for the camp.

He had told her he was worried about her, that it’s been a century and more since hades’ s curse, that he never thought he would have anther oracle besides her, that he was scared. But Rachel had convinced him. Hadn’t she. Then why was he acting weird today.

Was he still worried. Is this a bad decision. What would happen after it was all over. Should she continue. Thoughts filled her head. She brought a painting can and splashed the contents onto a blank canvas. It calmed her down, if only a little, and then she picked up her brushes and started to paint. Her hand moved as if they had a brain of their own, she didn’t give the process much thought. By the time she was done, she was staring at Nico. His smile was contagious. She smiled at him.

She was tired so she went to sleep. And she dreamt.

In here dream Apollo was a young boy, almost the same age as Esperanza, dark brown skin and close-cropped hair, warm brown eyes that would melt anyone, he was talking to Esperanza. Rachel watched the whole scene unfold.

Esperanza stood straight, her arms crossed over her chest, but she was looking down while speaking.

“So… you are telling me you are Apollo, the Greek god of prophecy healing music science etc. etc. etc. etc., and the monsters are real thing, and I am going to the school of troubled kids because my parents can’t see them and y’all the way I do and they think I am lying, and that I can have the power of predicting the future if I followed your instructions”

“precisely” Apollo smiled at her.

Esperanza seemed to be in the realm of thoughts for a really long time. Then she decided to question further.

“Will I get to see my friends and family or will I be trapped?”

“Will I be able to predict what will be on my tests?”

“How dangerous are your tasks going to be?”

Apollo answered all of them as best as he could, and he clearly explained to her that the tasks can actually take her life, that they can kill her.

She remained silent after this, as if weighing all the pros and cons in her mind. Apollo didn’t care. He kept silent. But his attitude was nothing like the day, he had a warm smile pressed to his face. As if testing her every second, analyzing.

“I accept, if a god has come to me asking me if I want to join him, I wont disrespect them, its against what my mama taught me. And I dont really need to share my other reasonings do I?”

“No, you do not”, Apollo said and brought his hand forward, Esperanza shook it firmly.

Apollo kept bringing news on how Esperanza is dealing with his tests every day, they were mild at first but they were getting harsher day by day, but Esperanza was handling them well enough, and Rachel was happy. But she also felt the final day’s dread looming close and closer.

 They sat together and saw her progress from Rachel’s cave, uninvited visions. Monsters. Labyrinth navigation. Rachel realized they were more or less simillar to what she experienced during her teens.

“Did you do that to me too?” she asked one day.

“Do what?”

“Test me. Give me tasks. Navigating the labyrinth, helping in a war?”

“Rachel” Apollo turned towards her “It happened as the fates spun for you and me, we were fated to form this bond, just like Esperanza is fated to be here. And no, I didn’t test you. I just thought these are good enough tasks to test her.

“How long?”

“Till I am satisfied”.

-x-

Rachel woke up in cold sweat, the sun was shining bright outside, she quickly got dressed and ran outside, the camp satyrs were running around carrying bandages and mortal medicines, she noticed that none of them had ambrosia or nectar.

“Fred” Rachel called a satyr.

“What is happening, who is injured so bad, why aren’t you using ambrosia and nectar.” Rachel asked

“My lady” Fred bowed, “there was a mortal running towards half-blood hill with 4 dracnae following behind, lord Chiron happened to be strolling near the border at that time, he gave the permission to get in the camp borders and carried her to safety. she has broken bones and other fatal injuries, lord Chiron is operating her, but since she is a mortal, we cannot use the food of gods”.

Rachel remembered what Apollo had said last night,

“If she makes it to camp, I am ninety percent sure the spirit of Delphi will accept her as a host”

She made to camp half blood alive. Rachel took a long breathe.

“Am I allowed to see her”

“Sorry milady, lord Chiron has barred everyone from seeing the girl, he says mortals are fragile and company of too many beings can make them sick”.

Rachel wanted to argue, she wanted to tell the faun that she is a mortal too, that she knows how mortals are, that she won’t make Esperanza sick. But she didn’t say anything. She let the satyr go. And she got ready to face the inevitable. Maybe facing that moment with confidence would make Nico proud. Rachel thought to herself.

Chiron didn’t let Esperanza leave the infirmary for days even after she regained her consciousness. Rachel and Apollo had decided not to tell him anything about a new oracle until the final moment. And Rachel was counting every moment.

She remembered the day she became the oracle.

She wasn’t injured like Esperanza, she wasn’t tested my Apollo every day, she had it easier than Esperanza.

But as she saw Esperanza stand on her legs with a little trouble, but with so much confidence, she felt confident in her, she knew in her heart that this girl who reminded her of her old comrade will be a great successor, the perfect Pythia for the Oracle of Delphi.

"Are you ready Esperanza? " Rachel stared into her dark blue and green eyes.

"Since the start" She affirmed.

Apollo came down towards them in his chariot, it’s happening, it’s happening right now, Rachel realized.

"Do you accept the risks?"

"I do."

"Then proceed," Apollo said.

Esperanza closed her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate."

Rachel relived the moment through Esperanza while the words flowed out of her as the Mist thickened. A green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoiled from the Rachel’s mouth and slithered down the stairs, curling affectionately around Esperanza’s feet. Rachel collapsed, Mist enveloped Rachel in a column.

For a moment she couldn’t see anything at all. Then the smoke cleared. Esperanza was lying on the ground in front of her. Nobody else had moved. Except Apollo. Who was kneeling besides Rachel. She sat up, then she coughed, and blood spilled out of her throat.

“I am sorry Rachel, I am sorry I hid this from you, you deserved to know this”. If anyone else would have heard him, they would have assumed his voice was calm, but she heard a hint of panic on his voice too.

“Shhh, Apollo, I hid this from you too, I saw it, in a vision, I never told you, but I always knew.” Rachel coughed again, and more blood came out of her mouth.

“I … I was trying to buy time, tasking Esperanza, so that I could spend more time with you, but Esperanza was…”

“is” Rachel corrected.

“But Esperanza is so skilled, it never gave me much time”

“And I”, Rachel coughed again “and I wanted to make Esperanza the oracle as soon as I could”.

“Why?”

“Because It’s my destiny, Apollo, it’s yours too, and its hers too”. Rachel looked at Esperanza, who was now sitting upright. Taken care of by various nymphs and satyrs. She smiled weakly.

“What can I do to honour you?” Apollo sobbed.

Rachel took Esperanza’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Take care of her, she’s going to make a wonderful Oracle." Rachel said through heavy breathing.

And then her whole world turned dark.

[fluxweeed]

several sentences sunday~

cheers @tackytigerfic for the tag!! your snippets are always gorgeous and delightful and it’s a little embarrassing even looking at my light-hearted silliness after reading anything of yours – the way you can make anything heartwrenching in such an effortless(-seeming) way is consistently incredible! but here’s an early bit from my “harry goes to a club under polyjuice and accidentally befriends the slytherins” drarry wip anyway

“Pansy is right,” Nott says. His dark eyes are fixed on Harry’s face. “We don’t know who he is. He could be a reporter. He could be an Auror trying to frame us for something.”

“He could be one of our parents,” Parkinson adds, and a shiver goes around the table.

“I’m not any of those things,” Harry offers—he’s not trying to frame them for anything, after all. “And I was just dragged over here without warning, actually, so I’m just going to go…”

“Don’t be silly,” Zabini says. “Millicent, dear heart, budge over, would you? There you go, sit there, here’s your drink.” He puts the trifle bowl of terror on the events leaflet that Bulstrode’s martini just vacated. “The whole point of Phoenix is that your past doesn’t matter. That’s why us lot are here, isn’t it?”

Harry, still standing, tries to look politely blank. He very carefully doesn’t let his gaze fall to anybody’s left arm.

“It is unfair though,” Malfoy says, “if he knows about us and we don’t know about him.”

“Really, I’m not gonna stick around—”

“Who says he knows anything about us?” The question comes, quite unexpectedly, from Goyle.

“If he’s over the age of twenty and has ever read a newspaper, he knows about us,” Malfoy says. He tosses his head as if he’s trying to be careless, but his voice is tight. “Or at least some of us.”

The thought Harry might be under twenty is the only one that seems to make Zabini pause. “You’re not underage, are you? I don’t give a shit if are and you’re drinking, but I’ll have to adapt my behaviour towards you considerably if so.”

“I’m not underage,” Harry says.

“What if he’s old?” Parkinson says. “Like, too old.”

“Out of interest, how old is too old?” Harry asks.

“Forty?” Parkinson says.

“Fifty,” Malfoy and Bulstrode say.

“I dunno, ninety or so?” Zabini says. “But I’m open to being convinced otherwise.”

“Blaise!” Bulstrode wrinkles her nose. She has freckles. It’s the first time Harry’s been close enough to her to notice.

Zabini is watching Harry carefully. “Maybe up to a hundred?”

“Oh my god,” Harry says. “I’m not a hundred.”

i’m so out of touch that i have no idea who has been tagged this week and who hasn’t. if u haven’t and u want to take part, please consider this a sign from the universe to do it – and pls tag me in ur post so i can see what ur up to 👀

[haveanotherkpopblog]

This is Halloween

Night 3 of 13 Nights of Kpop

Pairing: Seo Taiji x You (Platonic)

Genre: Angst, Horror, Movie!AU

Word Count: ~3.2K

Warnings: Mature Themes

Summary: As the end of Halloween draws near, you reminisce of your youthful adventure with the Pumpkin King, but not every adventure ends with a happily ever after.

Video: Christmalo.win

“T’was a long time ago, longer now than it seems, in a place you’ve only seen in your dreams. For the story you are about to be told, took place in the holiday worlds of old. Now you’ve probably wondered where holidays come from. If you haven’t, it’s about time you begun.”

“Congratulations everyone!” The Pumpkin King stood at his podium, waving over the crowd. Different creatures of the night cheered loudly, pointing and clapping. “This Halloween was our most terrifying to date. You should feel proud of your accomplishments. Now enjoy the rest of your night, for tomorrow, we begin preparing for next year.” There were more cheers as he exited the stage.

Around me everyone began talking about their favorite thing from Halloween. I made my way through the crowd, offering a smile to those I passed. They didn’t bother to stop me, they hadn’t done that for years now.

The air outside was brisk. I let out a shaky sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. My hands were shaking slightly as I ran them through my hair. I paused, feeling a pair of eyes on me.

“You should know better than to sneak up on a witch,” I said, turning around.

Mother Superior stood behind me, her hands clasped in front of her black robes. Her hat rested upon her head, tilted forward slightly. Her face was covered in wrinkles and her once black hair had faded into a light grey. Her eyes were still a dark brown that seemed to know more than she let on.

“I came to check on you,” she said. I shook my head.

“No. You didn’t.” She gave me a soft smile, stepping forward. “I told you. I can’t do it.”

“Not being able to do something, and refusing to do something, are two very different things,” she said. “Your training is complete, Y/N—it has been for years. You cannot run from your destiny forever.” I let out a sigh, shaking my head.

I said nothing more as I made my way back to my cottage. It sat in the woods outside of Halloween Town, far enough to keep unwelcome visitors away. I closed the door with enough force to shake the herbs hanging from my ceiling. I moved to collapse into my chair by the fire, waving a half-hearted hand to light the flames.

As the fire crackled, I summoned a cup and started the kettle without literally lifting a finger. I let my eyes focus on the flames as the cup found its way to my side. Despite having lived in this town my whole life, there was a disconnect. Even from a young age, the town hadn’t truly felt like home. Not since the incident.

I had been a young girl, no more than ten. My powers weren’t what they are now. I was barely showing signs of having magic at all, but the line of witches I came from meant I had the divine powers of the earth whether I wanted them or not.

Mother Superior was the kindest teacher a group of young witches and warlocks could ask for. She was patient and understanding. To a young child, she was the perfect embodiment of what the Mother Superior should be. She wasn’t young by any means, but she had the spirit of someone half her age. She was effortless in her practice and every witch wanted to be just like her.

Halloween had once again come to pass. The entire town had held a big celebration, giving out awards and partying their hearts out. Little did I know that would be the last Halloween party I would attend. I ran around the town with the other children, laughing to my heart’s content. It had been such a fun night, Mother Superior had granted us permission to sleep in the next day.

I always came to class early to help set up, and despite that party, the next day was no exception. I knocked on the door, rocking on my heels as I waited for her to open the door. When she didn’t answer right away, I knocked again, pressing my ear to the door. It was dead silent.

Frowning, I stood on my tiptoes, trying to peek into her windows. It was dark inside and I couldn’t see anything. Pulling back the mat, I pulled out her spare key that I had found while cleaning one day. I put the key into the lock and opened the door. I stopped in the doorway, eyes going wide.

Her cottage, which was in the middle of town, was completely torn apart. Bookshelves were tipped over, her herbs trampled, and everything else thrown into absolute chaos. I slowly entered her cottage, looking around at the mayhem. I called out for her, but I was met with silence.

I quickly ran out of the cottage and went to anyone I saw in town. Not one creature I talked to knew where Mother Superior was or why her cottage was a mess. They gathered around the main square, hurriedly whispering to themselves about what to do.

I went back to the cottage to try and piece together what I could. Walking in hit me with another wave of emotions. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of the last time I saw her.

Shouting outside drew me from my memories as everyone in town gathered around a flyer. They were pointing and shouting and shaking their fists.

“It’s an outrage!” shouted the werewolf, Brix. I squeezed through the different bodies to try and steal a glance at the flyer he was holding.

Paige, the shapeshifter, plucked it from his hands before I could see what was on it. “It’s a scandal!” he cried. “To think people would comply with this. Children above all else.”

“Children?!” Aeri exclaimed. She was another witch in our coven. She took the flyer from Paige, showing it to the other witches. They grabbed their children, words mingling in with shouts from the other citizens.

Snow began falling as they continued their shouting. I slowly crept backwards towards Mother Superior’s cottage as Aeri and the other witches grabbed the nearby children. If Mother Superior was going to be found, it appeared as if I’d have to do it myself.

At the cottage, I began to tidy everything up. I knew Mother Superior would like to come back to a nice, clean place to teach. I swept and stacked the books and placed everything where it belonged. I sat in her chair, waving my finger around like she did her wand.

Behind me, the television turned on. Santa Clause from Christmas Town was on the tv. Promising to fulfill everyone’s Christmas list. I shook my head. Christmas was overrated. What was so fun about having to act a certain way just to get some push gifts that wouldn’t matter in a year or two?

I moved to sit in front of the tv as it began showing children. I squinted my eyes, tilting my head. Those children seemed vaguely familiar to me. The camera pulled back and Santa Clause looked directly into the camera. His face was round and he had rosy cheeks and a big white beard. He gave the camera a big smile, and something bad settled into the pit of my stomach.

I looked back at the cottage. Everyone had hidden themselves away in their homes. Outside was once again quiet. I stood on my feet, brushing my dress down. There was no other option. Mother Superior’s only hope was me, but I knew I needed help.

On the outskirts of town was a giant tower that stretched towards the stars and moon. There was a single window that sat at the top of the tower. Light illuminated it against the dark night sky. Bats circled around the roof, calling out to each other.

I swallowed thickly as I made my way up the steps. The door towered over me as I stood on my tiptoes to ring the bell. It gave a loud shriek that echoed around me. I stepped back slightly, looking up towards the window. A shadow moved across the window.

The door swung open slowly, giving a loud groan as the shadow stepped into the threshold. The shadow was a man with light brown hair that fell over his glasses. He wore all black and was very pale. He cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes as he stared at me.

I gave a quick bow.

“Hello, your highness,” I greeted. He swung his long coat backwards, crouching down to look me in the eyes. He folded his hands in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Hello there. How can I help you?” he asked. My heart began beating rapidly as I looked down. I took a deep, shaky breath, glancing back up at him.

“I need your help,” I said. “Mother Superior is missing. And I think she’s in Christmas Town.” He jerked his head back, blinking several times.

“Now why do you think that?” he asked. I twiddled with my thumbs, drawing my mouth into a thin line.

“It’s just—a hunch. Please, you and I are her only hope.” He stood up straight, brushing his pants. He looked back up his tower before stepping out and shutting the door.

“Okay. If you’re sure that’s where she is, then that’s our best lead,” he told me. He offered his arm and helped me down his stairs. “I’m Seo Taiji, by the way. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N.”

The Pumpkin King, then Prince, and I made our way through Halloween Town. Everyone was locked away in their homes. Their curtains drawn and their lights out. Seo Taiji swooped down to pick up one of the flyers lying trampled in the snow. He frowned as we continued towards the woods.

The snow was thicker in the woods than in town. The trees stretched and tangled with each other. Owls hooted and shook the branches. Seo Taiji kept a tight grip on my hand as he led me through the winding forest. Brix and his pack were prowling the forest, letting out howls to the moon.

At the edge of a particular clearing, I could make out the bright lights of Christmas Town and Santa’s reindeer flying overhead. Seo Taiji tugged me on, bringing us to the edge of the forest where a small shop sat.

“What’s a wine shop doing at the edge of the woods?” Taiji inquired, peeking from behind a tree. Two men stood behind a table, handing out goblets filled with a red liquid. Fancy-dressed men and women surrounded the table, laughing and drinking the liquid.

I darted out from behind the tree, making my way to the table. He tried to grab me, but I slipped from his grasp, scowling as everyone stared at me. The men behind the counter tried to shoo me away, but I ignored them, looking at the wine in front of me. They turned to each other before pouring me a glass. I took the goblet and brought it to my lips.

The liquid was thick--uncomfortably so. It was also warm and bitter. I pretended to need to throw up and ran to the door that was away from them. As I slipped in, I made sure to shut the door behind me.

Inside the building was illuminated by a red light and was covered in big, metal tubes. I let out a gasp as I saw familiar faces chained to one of the metal contraptions. They were witches who had gone missing before Mother Superior. The one in the very front was Maeve.

Her bronze skin was now an ashy grey and her thick curls had lost their volume. I took hesitant steps towards her, reaching my hand up. Her head rolled to the side, her eyes staring at me. The other witches remained motionless as I tugged at their skirts.

A door opening scared me away from her. I blinked away my tears as I quickly ran away from them. Someone was following me, so I hid until one of the men from earlier passed me. I quickly left the way I came, running past a car.

A hand snatched me and pulled me back. The hand came to rest upon my mouth as I looked up to see Taiji. He held a finger to his mouth, looking about as footsteps ran past us. He quickly ushered me to hide in the car with him.

“Why did you run in there?” he asked, his face slightly pink and his brows furrowed. I bent my head, biting my lip to stop it from quivering. His expression softened. “I’m sorry. I was just worried. What was in there?” I wrapped my arms around myself, pulling my knees to my chin. “Y/N?”

“I—I found Maeve. And to some of the other missing witches,” I mumbled.

“Well that’s good, right?” I shook my head, tightening my grip on myself.

“They—they were—they were in chains and—and—they weren’t—weren’t moving—” He wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my head.

Someone opened one of the car doors, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car. It roared to life before it took off towards the heart of Christmas Town.

Ever so slowly we sat up, looking out the window. Bright lights blinded us as we took in the passing trees fading in favor of what was Christmas Town. It had expanded more than we thought, and his jaw remained clenched for almost the entire ride.

I thought back to my lessons with Mother Superior. She’d always been more than just a teacher to me. She was the mother I had lost. I needed to be brave for her. If what was happening to the other witches was happening to her, I needed to be the bravest I’d ever been.

When the car finally stopped, we were in front of an almost all white building. Even the people were dressed in white, yet the ground was barren of any snow. Slowly we slipped out of the car, and he took my hand. We were the only two dressed in all black.

Two guards approached us, grabbing us by the arms. They dragged us past the long line of people. Above the table where children were signing a piece of paper read a sign that said, “From Cradle to Grave”. A man started shouting about the paper and two people put a cloth over his mouth and dragged him away.

Taiji and I were separated, and I was brought to a room where a few other children were standing, matching lids to boxes. A scary man yelled at me and quickly set to work. The other children were covered in soot and weren’t wearing the happy color clothes of Christmas Town. I wondered where they had taken Taiji, but I was too afraid to ask.

Some time passed before another little came in. She wore a fancy looking dress and had her hair in a tight bun on the top of her head. The scary guard bent down, and she whispered into his ear, pointing at me and a couple other children. More guards came in and dragged us away as she stood smirking.

I was given a white dress and told to change. I did so, but the lacey fabric scratched at my skin, and I fought myself not to tear the dress off. I was led to a room and told to sit on a chair. It was cold and hard, and I still didn’t know where Taiji was. The other children had been cleaned up and were also dressed in white. Each of our outfits was unique, yet they seemed to blend together in a sea of white lace.

The man from earlier, who had been sitting at the table handing out papers, came in. He had grey hair and a black handlebar mustache that didn’t match. He bent down and inspected us, yelling at one of the adults. He pursed his lips before jerking his head. He stormed away, shouting at people as he did so.

The adult he yelled out brought out a can and went to one of the nearby children, forcing her to smile and spraying the can. An unnatural smile stuck onto her face. They repeated the process with the other children, but when they got to me, the little girl from earlier stopped her. She had an almost evil presence to her, yet she had stopped the woman. It was something I never understood.

The little girl held my hand as Santa Clause came into the room. He led us all out to the front room, taking a seat on his big, red chair. Most of the children crowded around his feet, their fake smiles plastered onto their faces. The little girl left me to the side of the chair, taking a seat on Santa’s lap. She whispered something into his ear, pointing back at me. He laughed and motioned for the handlebar man to step aside.

Guards from earlier came in, grasping onto chains like the ones from the wine shop. A gasp left my mouth as both Mother Superior and Taiji were brought out, shackles wrapped around them. Mother Superior had aged significantly since I saw her two days ago. Her hair had lost its shine and luster, and her skin was an ashy grey as Maeve’s had been. Taiji seemed okay, just mad.

Mother Superior fought against her chains to reach me, and I fought my to get to her, but we remained out of each other’s grasps. Taiji was forced to his knees in front of Santa Clause. I had never seen so much hatred in someone’s eyes as he had staring at Santa Clause.

The adults of Christmas Town began chanting, louder and louder their voices grew, drowning out my own cries. Mother Superior had tears in her eyes as she summoned what little magic she had. A white ball of energy sat in her hand, and as best she could while being chained, she forced the ball down.

The children, Taiji, and I disappeared from Christmas Town. Taiji and I landed back in Mother Superior’s hut. I quickly rid him of his shackles, but we were both slightly disoriented from the magic. He took a seat, bringing his hand to his temple.

I felt something hard in my hand, and looked down to see a key. Glancing up, I found a chest. I unlocked it to find Mother Superior’s witch items from when she had been my age. Her spell book, her broom, her hat, everything was there. I turned back to him and I knew what I had to do.

“This is no time for tears!” Taiji stood in the town square, monsters gathered around him. “Mother Superior, along with everyone here, is in danger. Now it’s time to show them Halloween Town will not be treated this way. You attack one of us, you attack all of us! We are monsters! We are proud!” The townsfolk cheered and prepped themselves to march into Christmas Town. The fight had only begun.

[papirouge]

okay a little tinfoil hat thoughts here on my end. You know how every place on Earth has a folklore/mythology of some sort like fairies or water spirits or what have you. What if those creatures are real, whether they're demons or another species of creature like how cryptids are. It'd explain some things for sure especially why more and more people under this secular society are becoming more depraved and unstable, they weren't human to begin with. I mean like we need to turn to Jesus and against all the worldly junk Satan lures us in with. And otherwise I think that it's a sign our world as we know it is coming to a close soon, that Jesus is coming and the rapture isn't too far away. Keep praying and I pray for you too sister!

Thank you anon💛

They're definitely real, and their both demons & cryptids. I think the nuance between demons and cryptids is that cryptids may be a form of demons specifically living in secluded spaces (desert, forests, cave, etc. - where demons who've been cast away go wander) and take the appearance of wannabe-animals (dog, wolf, deer, etc.)

I remember a story in a niche new age french radio I heard years ago (when I was a nolife teen fascinated by UFO) of an old military french man said he and his troops met a very odd looking man while they were deployed somewhere in the Sahara in the 70s. He literally came out of nowhere. That man had an abnormally dark & thick skin, craved-like deep wrinkles, extremely tiny, and the military said the skin of the sole of his feet was so thick it looked like callus - but like, a few inches thick😲 Since they quickly realized the man didn't speak french nor arabic they proposed to him a cigarette as way to create a cordial contact. The odd looking man accepted the cigarette, but to the utter surprise of the militaries, he didn't smoke it from the butt, but rather on the burning side(??!). The military man who told the story said that while smoking the odd man had an expression on his face of extreme pleasure.... After finishing the cigarette, the odd man left, and they never saw him again.... Idk if such encounter counts as cryptids, because as weird look that man was, he was still kinda humanoid, but since he was made of flesh (he physically could touch and smoke the cigarette) he most likely would not be a demon either (demons are on a whole dimension and cannot materialize their whole body in our realm. They can only do a few stunt such as slaps, moving/crushing objects, etc.). So maybe a fallen angel ; residuals of the time of the Noah where humans started copulating with demons and stayed in the desert ? I think that's what Muslim culture call djin. I know a channel of a Muslim girl retelling stories of djin and what's really striking is how they seem able to come in & out of our realm, and physically interact with humans, give objects, have houses, etc. So I think they're no average demon but a form of fallen angels who can't travel across the human and spiritual realms. That's a very uneverving thing when thinking about it...

And yeah, I already made a lengthy post about fallen angels that story of a girl who was half mermaid (her mom made a pact with mami wata to get pregnant) and how the pastor of the church she went to seek help to couldn't help her because she wasn't humans (you can find the post if you dig in my #papiconspiracy tag). After that I got anon telling me how unloving it was to refuse to save that girl, but at this point, it wasn't about "not wanting" to save her, but rather that we cannot save her. Fallen angels are not humans therefore they can't be Saved. God can't save demons.

I don't think you need to be half demon to be extremely wicked (demon possession can totally do the job) though, but extremely wicked humans can still be Saved.

[staynoonaz9290]

Temptation - S2 (Ch. 1)

Where Maddie and Lila are back six months later, still managers of Stray Kids, navigating the world of incubi, and worse… Dealing with unexpected feelings

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Each SKZ Member/Fem! Reader (Third Person-Lila and Maddie)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Sexual Content (a LOT of sexual content-please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable), Sex with multiple members (at separate times), Sex-to-survive (Incubi/Succubi), Desperation, Oral Sex (M-Given/F-Given), Fingering, Language, Supernatural Love, Excessive Drinking, Crack Fic, Age Difference, Slight OOC, Slight Angst, Love Triangle

Word Count: 4,661

Main Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist

COMPLETE

Intro Part 2 | 1 | 2

Lila and Maddie were standing in the living room together, attempting to have an important meeting with Stray Kids.

“Okay guys, we wanna have this discussion with everyone since we just had our meeting with Bam a few days ago-”

“Look, Lila-”

Han had a one-sided grin on his face leaning back on the couch beside Changbin.

“We’re good, right? I mean, we haven’t had an incident in almost seven months. There’s no point in even having this meeting.”

“Actually there is,” Lila said sweetly, smiling sarcastically right back at him. “Because this is supposed to be one of your biggest promotional periods you’ve had yet, and we want to make sure you’re prepared.”

“Yeah - top of the Billboard charts already!” Maddie exclaimed, shaking the white board she was holding. “Whoot Whoot!”

“Whoot Whoot!” Changbin and Han cried out together, Hyunjin, Jeongin and Felix giggling in their seats.

How they ever had any mature meetings with these guys, Lila never knew.

 “Anyway!” Maddie yelled, still smiling a little as she pointed to Lila with a flourish. “Keep going bestie.”

Lila smiled at her best friend with a shake of her head- she was as goofy as the rest of them sometimes- before turning back to the group.

“Right, so we’re gonna follow the same procedures we’ve been following. Sunday is feeding check day, so make sure to come in and let us know what your plan is for the week; who you’re seeing, where you’re going, and what day of the week-”

“Yeah, and don’t be disgusting, okay guys?” Maddie added, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t need to know what you plan to do with the girl. In fact, I’d rather never know-”

Han snorted into the palm of his hand- clearly the perpetrator in this instance- and Changbin turned to him in disgust, whacking him over the head.

“What?” Han cried out with a laugh. “I thought she might wanna know.”

“Why would she wanna know that?” Jeongin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would anyone wanna know that?” Hyunjin added, making everyone laugh.

He and Maddie shared a small bit of eye contact before she was turning away, giggling under her breath.

“Exactly,” she muttered.

“Alright guys,” Chan was sitting in an armchair off to the side, looking like he was trying not to laugh with the rest of them. “Let’s just- Lila. Go on.”

He smiled so charmingly at her, that Lila thought he might be trying to make her flustered on purpose, her face getting a little hot as her eyes hurriedly darted from his.

“Okay, so Maddie’s got the calendar right here, to give you guys a breakdown of everything you’ll be doing these next few weeks.”

Maddie shook the white board in her hands like a dancing dude with a sign before holding still, Lila pointing with a dry erase marker.

“We’ve got interviews, stages, promotional stuff like relay dances, extra vocal, rap, and dance lessons, physical therapy in between…”

“Are you still wanting me to let you know when I’ve booked the room for singing practice up at JYP?” Seungmin asked, raising his hand as if they were in school, looking at Maddie.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Guys, this schedule is tight, so if you’re gonna be anywhere out of the ordinary, we really need to know-”

“You mean out of the Oddinary,” Felix said with a teasing grin, winking at her.

It was such a corny joke that they all cracked up- even Seungmin and Chan, who had been doing their best to keep it together. After a moment, Felix was waving his hands, trying to calm them down.

“I know, I know, stupid joke,” he was smiling apologetically at Lila. “I’m so sorry, Lila, please keep talking.”

Lila was still giggling herself, and she rolled her eyes playfully before shuffling the papers in her hands.

“So we want you to drop your contracts in the folders outside our bedrooms like normal- No Han, you don’t need to knock, we’ll see it eventually-”

Han had opened his mouth, laughing again before snapping it closed.

“-and yeah I mean, that’s it as far as schedules go,” Lila finished with a shrug.

“Let’s just not be stupid,” Maddie said frankly. “We all know you guys need plenty of feeding to keep going, and with back to back performances and what not, it’s important to pay attention to yourselves.”

“Right, if you need it, go get it-” Chan added, all the guys turning to look at him. “We don’t need anyone being too drained to work, and it’s honestly, not good for you anyway-”

“Right, exactly,” Lila agreed with a nod.

The man turned to look at her, a flicker of purple in his eyes that had Lila’s nerves jumping beneath her skin. They shared a secret smile while no one was looking, and her stomach flipped a little, knowing why he was looking at her like that.

They already knew he was completely taken care of.

And there it was again- the knowledge that Lila was the only girl Chan had been with all this time. She wasn’t sure what it meant- did he really get the most energy from her?- or was there something more to it than that-

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me,” Changbin said, smirking a little at the two girls. “You know I always get it taken care of.”

“Do you?” Maddie asked, Hyunjin laughing in the background. “Aren’t you the one who almost broke our seven month streak?”

Lila giggled; she totally remembered that day.

They’d been at a small awards show, rehearsing for most of the day before the performance in the evening, and somehow Changbin had forgotten to schedule a feeding. Thankfully, one of the girls he knew in the area had been more than willing to come- Lila thought Changbin must be pretty damn good for the girl to rush over like that- and everything had all been fine in the end.

But still.

“Well, you definitely don’t have to worry about me,” Han said, so reminiscent of a peacock that Lila half expected feathers to start sprouting out of his back. “You know I’ve got Eunae now…”

And as much as Lila wanted to make a joke at his expense, she actually couldn’t this time.

Han really did have Eunae now.

Nothing was official; Eunae was just the stylist that’d been working with Han for the past year or so, and- as far as Lila and Maddie knew- they were doing nothing but fooling around.

However, she really did seem interested in Han; always smiling when he walked in the room, hooking up with him basically any chance they got, and sometimes the two of them would even talk together when they were all waiting to perform.

It felt like there was more going on there- like actual feelings- but Lila wasn’t one hundred percent sure how that worked.

Could incubi be in a relationship?

If anything, Lila thought that at least- whatever was going on between Eunae and Han- it would be highly convenient.

The make-up artist would be with them everywhere they traveled.

“So…”

Minho spoke for the first time, sitting on the other side of Changbin as he looked at Lila.

“If I run into a snag, can I just schedule with you, or? That’s not considered an incident, if it’s not an emergency back-up situation, right?”

He smiled slightly, completely relaxed as he looked at her, Lila laughing a little at the bluntness of the statement.

She supposed yes; if he needed some assistance, that was her job…

“How about-” 

Chan leaned forward in his seat a little.

 “-we just don’t get into a snag, yeah?”

There was an edge to the man’s voice Lila hadn’t been expecting, turning to him just in time to see a flash of red in his eyes before it disappeared. It was so fast, she thought she might’ve imagined it, but the room was a little quieter, a certain stillness in the air.

What the hell was that?

He’d looked angry for a second- angrier than she’d ever seen him- but then he was shaking his head, eyes a normal brown, sitting back in his seat-

Minho turned to Chan slowly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I mean, we all know it can happen.”

Chan was fidgeting in his seat, Lila watching him swallow hard before she was turning back to Minho.

“I just want to be respectful of your time, Lila,” Minho said.

It was honestly quite polite all things considered; there weren't a lot of chivalrous ways you could hook-up with an incubus in a time of need. 

But Minho was attempting to be a gentleman- to ask her when she’s available if he actually runs out of other girls. Lila wasn’t sure how he would- he had so many- but he was at least trying to make things a little easier on her.

It was just an example of how much things had changed between the two of them.

Gone were the days of Minho not speaking to her; not letting her know what was going on or even really acknowledging her existence. He was kinder now- spoke to her often, actually- and was always communicating his schedule with her at all times.

They’d become the most unexpected of friends, and Lila had been pretty grateful. He seemed fond of her, and she liked it; it made her feel special.

“Well, thank you, Minho…”

Lila glanced at Chan again, the man now running a hand through his hair, eyebrows slightly furrowed-

“Yes, it’s a part of my job, so if you need me, you can let me know.”

Chan looked up at this, his eyes meeting hers for a second before darting away.

“What?” Han cried, looking playfully offended. “You never told me I could schedule time with you!”

“You don’t count,” Lila said, barely looking at him and shifting her papers again.

“Wha-”

“Neither do you Changbin, so you better get your life together,” Maddie joked, talking over Han before the man could say anything else stupid. “Because if you call, I’m gonna be busy.”

The room was laughing again, Changbin rolling his eyes as he grinned at her, and the tension that had momentarily enveloped the room after Chan called Minho out seemed to evaporate.

Lila glanced at the man again, but his features were smooth once more- a small smile on his lips as the rest of the guys laughed.

It was like nothing had happened.

“Okay…”

Maddie walked to the couch for a moment, placing her white board on the floor by Jeongin’s legs. They smiled at one another as she whispered a quick “Hi!” before looking away to adjust the board, making sure it didn’t fall over. 

Jeongin was still looking at her, fixing a few strands of hair that had broken free from her ponytail. Hyunjin glanced over at the movement, eyes lingering for a second before facing forward once more.

Then Maddie was running back up to the front, the girls exchanging a smile before Lila was speaking again.

“Alrighty guys, so we have one more announcement…” she began.

“We were just told by Bam a few days ago that the manager assignments aren’t as strict as we thought,” Maddie explained. “It was just meant for Lila and I to divide the work evenly. But as far as back-up goes…”

“You can come to either of us,” Lila finished, glancing at her best friend before turning back to the guys. “If Maddie’s not here and you need help or vice versa, we’re all a team, and there’s no boundaries on that any longer.”

“Whoa,” Han grinned devilishly. “Wish I would’ve known that earlier.”

He was wiggling his eyebrows at Maddie, eyes flashing purple, and Changbin was smacking him over the head again, rolling his eyes.

“Shut up, dude.”

Hyunjin snorted under his breath, and Maddie was also rolling her eyes, sighing heavily.

“Anyway,” Lila went on. “That’s everything. Any questions?”

Han raised his hand like Seungmin had and the entire group turned to him.

“Not you!” they all said together, everyone bursting into laughter.

Even Han.

Their meeting was done after that, the guys dispersing to other areas of the mansion or heading to practices. The room got quieter and quieter as Lila folded up her papers, Maddie beside her wiping down the dry erase board.

“You should make a picture on this,” she said, turning to Hyunjin, who was the only one left besides Chan. “Make like… a tiger or something.”

“A tiger?” Hyunjin asked with a laugh, raising an eyebrow at her. “Is that your favorite?”

“I mean, no, my favorite is a snow leopard, but I think the spots are probably too tricky for a white board-”

And then she was grinning teasingly at him.

“Bet you couldn’t do it.”

“Tch.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, getting up from his seat and pulling his phone from his pocket. He leaned a little closer to Maddie, smiling playfully right back at her with a flirty tilt of his head.

“Bet I just won’t make anything at all.”

He walked away, Lila giggling under her breath, Maddie huffing in annoyance, even with the small smile on her face.

“I hate him,” she announced once he was gone.

“No you don’t,” Lila quipped with another laugh.

Maddie spent far too much time with Hyunjin for her to believe for a second that the older “hated him”.

They laughed again before Maddie was glancing over at Chan, the man typing something on his phone, before her gaze was going back to Lila.

“Welp!”

She stood up with a loud clap of her hands, Lila watching and trying not to giggle again.

“I’m gonna go uh… fold the socks-”

Lila resisted the urge to smack her palm to forehead.

“-those have been um- needing to get done, so-”

Chan looked up with a grin, raising an eyebrow at her, but Maddie was already turning on her heel, heading straight for the laundry room.

She was clearly trying to give Lila and Chan some alone time, and the two giggled as soon as the door had shut behind Maddie, turning to look at one another.

“I don’t think she could’ve been any more obvious,” Chan teased.

“Yeah cross ‘secret agent’ off Maddie’s list of careers,” Lila added.

They looked at one another for a second, Chan getting up from his chair and glancing around the living room as if making sure no one was around. 

Then he was taking her cheeks into the palms of his hands, holding her face, smiling gently at her for just a moment before kissing her on the lips.

It was just as exquisite as always- a little passionate, actually- a flood of lovely warmth coursing through her insides, leaving Lila a bit weak in the knees-

Chan pulled back, and Lila giggled, her burning cheeks still resting in his hands.

“What was that for?” she asked playfully.

“You did really well,” Chan said, looking proud. “You’re getting better and better at this whole manager thing.”

She smiled, feeling a little shy as she looked at him.

“Thank you.”

While she and Maddie had always been a team when it came to management, she’d been content to let the older do most of the talking during any group meetings. But- with the encouragement of Chan and Maddie- the two of them had convinced her to start trading off, so the guys knew that she was just as much in charge as Maddie.

Not that that had ever necessarily been an issue…

Chan was still smiling warmly at her, and where his hands sat, there was a weird tickle against her skin- like electricity again, but something else- before his eyes were flickering.

Brown, electric blue, brown.

As if realizing what happened, Chan was quickly taking his hands from her face with a nervous chuckle, Lila watching curiously.

“Well… I gotta go work on that song some more,” he said, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of his studio. “But I’ll… see you later?”

He was playful again, eyes normal brown, and Lila found herself nodding, wondering vaguely if she was going crazy.

“Yeah…” 

She smiled, raising an eyebrow demurely at him- she knew what see you later meant- and Chan laughed lowly, taking a few steps backward.

“I’ll see you then.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lila, Maddie, and the guys were all piled into a large, backstage room, getting ready for their first performance of all the songs off their new album.

She glanced around, spotting Felix and Changbin side by side in the makeup chairs, their stylists getting them all fixed up.

“Okay, Felix, I’m just gonna have you hold still, honey-”

“No problem, No problem; thank you.”

“Changbin, tilt your head to the left- the left-”

“Oh right, sorry-”

Changbin’s sheepish grin had Lila chuckling under her breath before she spotted Han on the other side of the room, Eunae running some gel through his hair.

He was saying something- something Lila couldn’t make out in the chaos of the room- but Eunae was giggling, pink dusting her cheeks when she smiled.

And when Han smiled back- his eyes darting up and down her face- the expression was… genuine.

It wasn’t his normal, one-sided, shit-eating, I’m-up-to-no-good grin that made Lila and Maddie roll their eyes on the regular.

No, his expression was soft- sweet even- and he reached up to fix a piece of her hair, saying something else to her Lila still couldn’t hear.

Seeing Han like that with a girl was…

Well, weirdly heartwarming.

Lila’s eyes moved to the stack of papers in her lap once more, using her pen to check off each contract as she went through them.

It had been about a week since their meeting with the guys about making sure they were well fed for the upcoming events. They’d been doing wonderfully- tons of contracts in Maddie and Lila’s folders almost every morning- and so far, things had been going rather smoothly.

“So, what movie do you wanna see?”

Jeongin and Maddie were sitting on the couch beside Lila, talking together about their upcoming plans for tomorrow.

“Hm… I don’t know,” Maddie admitted with a laugh. “Maybe… Sonic 2?”

Jeongin chuckled, sounding amused, and Lila glanced up in time to see him smiling at her, raising a teasing eyebrow.

“Sonic 2?”

“What?” Maddie was laughing again, shoving him a little. “It’ll be cool, right? Knuckles is in it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeongin shook his head, still grinning. “Sounds pretty cool.”

He was clearly messing with her- Lila didn’t think Jeongin would care what movie Maddie picked, as long as they went together- and she saw her best friend pick at something on her shirt before looking at the man once more.

“We’ll have to get a big thing of popcorn,” she confessed. “A movie is never complete without it-”

“Duh,” Jeongin said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

They both laughed again, bumping their shoulders playfully together.

Jeongin and Maddie’s friendship had been developing since the girls had first started as managers, and only grown as the months went by. He seemed to really enjoy Maddie’s company; like her loud, goofy energy gave him happiness.

Lila could relate to that- she felt the same way about her best friend.

However, it was clear to Lila that there was so much more…

The way Jeongin looked at her- so smitten- or the way he laughed when he was with her; a little different than how he laughed when she wasn’t around. He was constantly fixing her hair, and speaking calmly to her when she was in a frenzy…

And Maddie too; she was giggly and shoved him a lot when he teased her. She was always looking away- like she was nervous- before smiling back at him a little softer than her usual, beaming grin. Jeongin calmed her probably more than she realized, and the girl seemed to sink into that a bit…

 There was just something a little too romantic about it to just be friendship.

They’d been hanging out for a while, already going on a couple excursions just the two of them, and Lila wasn’t sure what that meant.

And she had a feeling, neither did Maddie.

“Hey, have you-”

“Fed?”

Jeongin looked amused again, standing from the sofa with a grin.

“Yes,” he answered, fixing the earpiece in his ear. “Don’t be so worried all the time, Maddie.”

The man was half messing with her, half serious, because this had always been a constant trend with the two of them; Maddie was always making sure Jeongin was fed, and he was always telling her he knew how to take care of himself.

“I’m not worried, I just…”

She trailed off, smiling at him.

“Okay. Great- just checking.”

Jeongin smiled back before walking away, Maddie watching him go for a second before turning to Lila.

“How’s checking contracts going?”

“Great,” Lila replied, looking up again to meet her gaze. “I’m about halfway through.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go around and check on everyone else, see if the stylists need anything or the guys forgot something-”

“So, Changbin?”

“Yeah,” Maddie answered with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Changbin.”

They both giggled before Lila watched her best friend walk away, the girl passing by Hyunjin as she went.

He looked up instantly, eyes darting up and down her figure before catching her wrist, Maddie turning to him with an automatic, teasing smile.

“What?”

“Look, you gotta see this,” Hyunjin was using his free hand to pull up something on his phone.

“I’m busy.”

Maddie was kidding of course- she’d never been too busy for Hyunjin- but Lila watched as he ran his fingers up her forearm, caressing it gently as he looked up at her through his lashes.

“Please?”

And Lila knew her best friend didn’t have much of a choice with the man looking at her like that, watching Maddie’s whole body slacken a little, the girl sighing loudly.

“Fine.”

Hyunjin laughed, clearly amused by how quickly he could change her mind, and Maddie reached over, hitting him softly on the arm.

“Don’t get used to it.”

But of course, if anyone was watching besides Lila, they all knew that was a complete lie.

She sighed under her breath, because as great and romantic as Jeongin with Maddie seemed to be, there was something about Hyunjin…

Something caught her eye, and she turned, noticing Chan in the back of the room, laptop in his lap and headphones in his ears.

He looked so incredibly hot that Lila felt her breath catch a little in her throat.

Blue hair styled and a little messy, lifted off his forehead. A silver necklace hanging close around his neck. That damn cropped yellow turtleneck that looked sinful on him- Lila had nearly died the first time she saw it- the fabric just tight enough to show the definition of his arms and the broadness of his shoulders, the peek of his stomach near his pantline almost more than she could handle…

Chan’s eyes met hers, and his smile was immediate, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as he looked at her.

She smiled right back, and she watched as his expression went slightly flirty, quirking an eyebrow, eyes flashing purple for the briefest of moments.

Like he’d known exactly what she was thinking in her head.

Even across the room, she could feel the air between them changing; the slight buzz of it tingling her veins as they held eye contact.

Lila’s cheeks burned, and she swallowed hard as she fought the urge to jump him right there in his armchair…

It had only been two days since she’d been with him, and already she wanted more.

Lila found herself remembering that night. 

Chan texting her, telling her he “needed a towel” and he was in the shower already, could he bring her one?

Lila knowing exactly what that meant, grabbing a towel from the hall closet before practically running to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind her.

Chan smiling brightly when he saw her, Lila quickly taking off her pajamas, and the man pulling her under the hot running water.

Lila’s back against the tile surface, Chan’s hands sliding up her skin, whispering in her ear how bad he’d wanted her, how he couldn’t wait until he was done-

She’d been melting, she was sure of it, his incubus powers sending such fire through her veins it was almost too much, but then it wasn’t, her hands running through his hair as Chan started kissing down her body, lower and lower, his lips perfect, fingers gripping hard to her hips-

“Oh my god- seriously, Changbin?”

Lila jumped, hurriedly pulling her eyes from Chan as both of them watched Maddie lifting pillows from the other couches, Changbin right on her tail.

“They’re too small!” he exclaimed, lifting the rug and checking under it before following Maddie once more. “It’s not my fault-”

Maddie groaned in exasperation, moving to the accessories boxes, sifting through them quickly.

“It’s an earpiece, it can’t be big, and it’s your responsibility to keep track of it,” she said.

Minho was sitting in one of the chairs, looking up from his phone with just a ghost of a smile on his lips as he watched the exchange.

“I need a case,” Changbin defended, scowl deepening as he started pulling open drawers at a makeup station. “If I had a case, this wouldn’t have happened-”

“No, then you would just lose the case,” Maddie snapped, sighing before taking his hand. “Come on, let’s just- Maybe it’s in the other room where we were putting outfits together.”

Changbin let her pull him out of the room, looking a little guilty, and Lila giggled with a shake of her head.

Why was the man always losing things?

She checked the time on her phone, jumping when she realized how close it was to start time.

Looking around, Lila could see all the guys were dressed, styled, and ready to go, practicing lightly under their breaths or sitting together, laughing and talking about nonsense.

For the first time, she realized Seungmin wasn’t there-

“Hey.”

Lila jumped, Chan standing right beside the couch, grinning a little at startling her.

“Hey,” she breathed, her stomach flipping almost immediately when she saw him. “What’s up?”

“I’m gonna talk to the sound guys before we go on,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Okay.”

Again, they shared lingering eye contact, his smile going a little softer as he looked at her.

“See you in a few minutes.”

Lila’s face was a little hot again, and she giggled before she could help it.

“See you.”

Then he was pulling his eyes from hers, walking away, and she was exhaling heavily, her heart racing in her chest.

Why did she have to fall so hard for an incubus?

She busied herself with the rest of the contracts- she had totally been distracted- listening to everyone as they started to warm up, clustered together, talking loudly.

The back door opened with a squeak, and Lila glanced up, watching Seungmin enter the room.

There he is

She was going to go look for him if she didn’t see him after she was done with the contracts.

He seemed to be looking for Lila, eyes roaming the room before falling upon her own, quickly walking towards her.

She set her stuff to the side, a little confused as Seungmin stopped at the sofa, looking nervous.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet. “Uh… Can I talk to you for a second?”

Her eyes darted between his own, watching him press his lips together, swallowing hard, fidgeting with the dangling necklace around his neck…

“Sure!”

Lila quickly stood from the sofa.

“What’s going on?”

To Be Continued...

Intro Part 2 | 1 | 2

[thewritersaddictions]

2023: Eddie Munson- Episode 12 Nightmares

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC!Lilly Miller

Pov: Eddie Munson

Warnings: Nightmares, fluff, angst, smut,

Summary- Lilly has a full week's worth of nightmares before Eddie is able to console her. Fear boilings to the edges as a year comes to pass.

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 4.1k

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List // 2023 Series Master List

Steve comes by the auto body shop. Even though the degree I hold from the GED class I took and graduated from I still work there for the old man's sake. Nearly into his seventies, it's hard enough for the old man to find any realizable workers. “Lunch?” He asks as the doors chimes with a new person entering the building. I look up. The old man had gone home for an early lunch and that was nearly twenty minutes ago. With a shrug of my shoulders I shut the book for write ups. I slide out from behind the desk, and turn off the open sign. “We’ll only be gone for like thirty minutes right?” I ask Steve. With a shrug of his shoulders it’s enough for me.

“Where are you thinking about going for lunch Steve?” I ask as I lock the front door and turn to him. His wrinkles of age so more when the sun hits his face, but still the handsome man that Steve was in high school. “I was thinking that we could grab some diner food.” Steve answers, jingling his keys to his old ass car. “Cool.” I answered him. I get into the passenger seat. The ride is smooth. The car shows no age while it’s driving at least. “So why did you suggest a lunch meet up?” I ask as Steve rides down the road that leads to the old diner.

He thinks for a moment pursuing his lips. “I would like to talk to you about some things that happened when you disappeared.” Steve says trying to form his words, and thoughts all at the same time. “Oh.” I feel like I’m about to get reprimanded, but I let Steve continue. “I thought now was the best time I could get to explain maybe a few things that you weren’t a part of. I’ll explain more when we eat.” Steve says, pulling into one of the many open parking spots of the diner. It’s nearly one in the afternoon. I nod my head, and when the car comes to a full stop the parking set I unbuckle from my seat and hope for the best when it comes to both the food, and the conversation between Steve and I.

We take a seat near the front of the diner, nobody’s here to bother us in our conversation besides an older woman who comes to take our drink orders, and our food orders. Steve orders a sweet tea, I order a pop. “It will be right out boys.” The older woman says as she shuffles away. I laugh at the motions of the women, but then realize I’m being glared at by Steve. “So anyways, are you gonna explain to me what happened after I poof disappeared from the world.” I laugh at my own words, but Steve is stoic in his position across from me in the booth. The drinks arrive a moment later and she takes our orders of the best food they’ve got which just so happens to be burgers.

“I guess I should start in the middle.” Steve says he undresses his burger adding a few things that burger was already missing. He starts back up. “God Dustin was a mess. I really didn’t realize how much he needed you. He was fussing all the way until the words came out of his mouth that Vecna had gotten you. You had gone through the gate sure, but you hadn’t ended up on the other sides. Even as we have this conversation I’m still not sure how that all worked out.” Steve says dressing his burger backup. I follow along taking the first few bites of my fries not yet ready for the burger. “Like I had said dude. He praised you on and on about you.” I say. “So what happened? Dustin freaked out and you killed Vecna? Did you kill him?” I ask. I hadn’t realized just how much I was still worried even now about whether or not Vecna was out killing people with my name being smeared about the Hawkins town paper.

“Well Dustin had a plan at least. You know that kid he’s smart as a whip with a little bit of an ego.” I laugh but nod. “A plan was born. Dustin and I would travel back through the gate after we all got our needed weapons.” “Weapons!” I say in a hushed but worried tone. “Yeah we had to steal an RV though so without your help to get it going it was a little bit harder.” I smile at the thought and then the sadness and anger hits me. My childhood had not been normal at all. He beat up on my mom and I. Used the little time he had between prison and being out to teach me not so normal son things. No throwing balls with my dad, instead he taught me how to Hotwire cars, and get away without a single person knowing.

“Dustin and the gang of us traveled to that shitty army store. You know the one with all the army shit and guns that had any of the people in Hawkins there when we rolled up.” Steve went on. “Without us it was a little waiter to go inside at least. I’m pretty sure that Nancy got into it with Carver.” I roll my eyes at the name. “Yeah he’s a massive pecker head.” I say the older women come by the table asking if we wanted to get anything else and if we were doing okay. We both nodded, she went on her own way. “Though I do have to give it to the girls. Nancy and Robin beat the shit out of Vecna. Flamethrowers, and a sawed off shotgun.” I smile weakly at the thought. “So how does it all go down?” I ask, finishing off the fires. He takes a few much needed bites of his burger.

“Yeah so I might have touched your guitar, Dustin thought it would be good if the girls didn’t have to deal with those damned bats.” I nod, “The girls fought Vecna while Dustin and I kept the bats off of them. Apparently Lucas and Max and even his little sister had to fight off Carver and his goons.” I roll my eyes, picking up the burger and noticing the time. Long over thirty minutes, but the shop would be okay on a Tuesday afternoon to be closed a little longer. “We killed Vecna, Max made it with some damages. A bad, very bad coma that took over her life for a few years. El, the magic girl tried to get her some help. Things didn’t end well.” I nod along the conversation. “Hopper came back.” My brows shoo up. “Yeah I know the same reaction I had. He was in Russia for like a whole year and came back skinny as a stick.” Steve says finishing off his food.

“So how’d you end up with robin? Married I mean?” I ask, not yet ready for the conversation to be done. “Oh that was a whole fuckin’ story. My parents were concerned when they came back from one trip. Claimed that I was either going to go with them and never come back to Hawkins. They would have sent me off to marry some chick with no brains or brawn. I told them about Robin, and in a nice deal with my father. I got married to Robin, keeping the house and the money I was going to inherit if I could stay in Hawkins with her.” I nod my head. “But she’s?” Steve nods. “Yeah she’s a part of the whole LGBQ+ community.” Steve says finishing off my thoughts. The bill comes to the table and I reach for it. Steve takes it from my grasp. “My treat. Thank you for listening. Wanting to know.” Steve says he pays the bill, and the ride back to the auto body shop is quieter than before. My head is twirling with the thoughts of the whole fight with Vecna. “No thank you for a lunch out of the shop, and for wanting to tell me. I won't lie, I've been curious about what happened. It’s all blank like a black space. A void that nothing was there scary man.” Steve nods at my words.

A week later is Valentine’s Day.

“Do you want something special?” I ask Lilly. She smiles, her bright warm smile that makes my insides knot up. “Sure Eds.” Lilly says curling into my side. “Why don’t we go to Indy for the day or a few nights at least.” I say. “And do what Eds?” She asks if her head rests on my chest and I bet she can hear the steady heartbeat. “Go to a music festival, and have a good, fancy, proper dinner.” She draws shapes into my chest. “Okay Eddie.” She says tiredness sweeping through her words. We fall asleep like that. The next morning we pack and get into her car for the drive there. “I’m hoping that I don’t have to make reservations ya know.” I say over the music. She hums along to the music and to me.

There’s plenty of stops that we make along the way. Shopping, stopping for bathroom breaks and food once in a blue moon. Lilly spends a while going through a few boutiques in Indy before we get to the major city. The same night we manage to get a suite in a not too shabby bed and breakfast not far out from the city. Lilly sets up our nights that we will be staying at the place while I get out bags. Lilly packs heavy for whatever reason. I climb the stairs and make my way to find her. “Your wife is just upstairs to the left. First door.’ The older woman says. I want to correct the woman, but the thought of making her my wife stops my heart for a moment. That damn ring is still sitting in my socks drawer. “Thank you ma’am.” I say sweetly to the older women. I climb another set of stairs before I open the door. “Honey?” I say, “In here.” She says. “They have an en-suite bathroom.” She says with excitement, but there’s something lurking in the back of her eyes, and a wide smile.

“Tired?” I ask her “I could use some hours of sleep. Give me my bag would ya.” She says, propping her hand out. I shift, and close the door. “How many days are we here?” I ask her. “I have us here for at least two days for the festival and the dinner.” She looks over at me. “That's good?” I nod. I strip down to just my boxers and put my hair into a messy bun. I wait for her, but end up sleeping through the dip in the bed. I pull her closer when she settles. I wake to murmuring in her sleep. I’m not sure what to do. I remember Wayne coming in and making sure that I was okay whenever I could have nightmares. “Lilly?” I say softly, swiping some hair away from her forehead. Sticking with sweat. I fear that going back to bed is the wrong choice but there’s no other choice. Waking someone up from their nightmares is no good.

The musical festival happens the following morning. I want to ask her about the dreams she was having the night prior but almost feel like I would be peeling back parts that she isn’t prepared for me to take interest in yet. The dark circles under Lily's eyes grow as she wakes up with knotted hair. “I’ll take a shower.” She murmurs to herself as she kisses my cheek. I watch and wait for her in the bed. I worry about her. She pushes herself so hard that I think she barely ever takes care of herself. When she comes out of the bathroom, she is dressed in a rocker outfit. Black jeans that have holes in them. An old t-shirt of mine that has iron-maiden, or AC&DC. She does a twirl. Her makeup is dark and sexy, red lipstick. “I haven’t been to a musical festival in a long time.” She comments. “Are you getting dressed, or do you plan to go naked?” She winks at me, grabbing her black boots. “Oh you… I’ll get dressed, you don’t have to worry about me.

That morning I dressed pretty close to her. A pair of black jeans that are tights around my upper thighs, a band t-shirt and my boots. We both grab our coats and I lock the door to our private bedroom at the bed and breakfast. The ride to the festival is filled with heavy traffic and having to find parking is hell, but Lilly and I make it out with parking spots and on our way to get into the festival.

Musica is already blaring, and Lilly shops some more for t-shirts that she thinks that we will both like. The real part of the festival happens nearly two hours later. Lunch is a part of the tickets so we get a good healthy serving of a barbecue sandwich with curly fries. Lilly’s face is flush and then tired she dances and sings along to lyrics she’s probably never heard of before. That night I drove us back to the bed and breakfast. Lilly is asleep in a matter of seconds when he hits the headrest. She doesn’t even wake up when he makes it to the parking lot behind the bed and breakfast.

That night she doesn’t mumble in her sleep, or shift wildly either. The night in bed together. Kissing and touching up on each other for what seems like hours before Lilly gets up abruptly and turns to me. “Dinner baby?” She asks, “I’d rather skip dinner and get straight to deserts.” I flirt with her, she flips me off with a warm smile on her face. “Dinner Eds. I’m hungry.” She fusses and goes into the bathroom. The dark circles under her eyes are even worse today, and no matter how much make-up she uses to cover up her circles under her eyes it won’t change the fact that she’s tired and I know that already. She changes in the bathroom into a red dress black heels. She’s beautiful, a contrast to yesterday's fashion show that came out of the ne-suite bathroom. “You’re beautiful.” I say. The words fall from my thoughts to my mouth. She blushes and kisses me on my cheek.

Dinner is fancy to say the least. I worry about the ring, but know that it will be better to say something about it later on. We get steak, a place called Ruth’s Chris. ��That’s the stupidest name for a restaurant.” I say to her as we walk in hands linked tighter together. She rolls her eyes at my inner thoughts becoming outer thoughts. “Whatever you say baby.” The host takes us to a private table, the server is quick to get our orders, and brings us a bottle of wine of Lilly’s choosing. “Red?” The server asks, Lilly nods her head. Steak is wafting through the building and when it hits my nose I know for sure what I want for dinner this valentines night. Lilly clinks her wine glass with mine, “Happy Valentine’s Day Eddie.” She says, taking a sip of her wine. “Of course love.” I say sweetly.

I worry too much about her. I shot a text to a group chat that Robin had made for just the three of us. Steve, Robin and I. “Guys, what do you know about nightmares?” I ask, I wait for a few minutes. Lilly is getting undressed in the bathroom wiping her makeup that’s covering growing dark circles. “Why?” I got a message from Steve, “Cause I think Lilly’s got some nightmares.” I say simply. “Oh, well are you sure it’s nightmares?” Robin threw the question into the chat. “Yeah I’m pretty fuckin sure. She tosses and turns in her sleep. Mumbles about something that I can’t really make out.” I text into the chat. Bubbles sit at the bottom of the chat. “I think you’ve just got to wake her up, or wait until she comes to you about them.“ Robin says “I say I gotta agree with Robin here. Nightmares are pretty private things that only one person can experience. Trust me she’ll come to you about them when she’s comfortable.” Steve says into the chat.

“Thanks guys.” I type out as the bathroom door opens. She dressed for sleep with a large t-shirt on her small frame. “Who are you texting?” She asks as she settles next to me in the bed and breakfast bed. “Just rob, and Steve.” She nods, and slides down the bed. She turns off the lights and gets comfortable. “You’re watching me.” She says, opening one of her closed eyes. “You caught me love dove.” I say pulling in the phone and turning off my light before sliding down to hold Lilly close in my arms. “I love you.” I whisper into her ear. She shifts closer than possible to me. “I love you too.” She murmurs.

—

“No Eddie please don’t!” I scream to him, he’s walking away not daring to look at me. He’s different. Darker, meaner than he’s ever been to anyone. It scares me to my core, everything has been fine. It was going great and then all of the sudden my dreams came crumbling down. The dreams or nightmares had been constant for almost the last couple of months. Constant nightmares that Eddie would pack up and leave one day. Leave me to cry and burn all because he was no longer happy. Hell he and I had gone through a little of hell ourselves.

It wasn’t that I didn’t think I was not to blame for the months we spent apart, yet that’s exactly what I thought. I could fall asleep in his arms, know with all of my heart that he wasn’t going to leave me and yet I still dreamt of it every night.

The screaming and shouting. The yelling that happened between the two of us was horrible. The fights every night that happened within my head were melting into my everyday life with Eddie. Nothing felt the same, maybe it had to do with something I had done. The snooping that I had done before Eddie had come home one day.

I was doing laundry and as I was putting away his clothes. His boxers, and socks I had seen. The little black box that sat within his drawer was hidden by layers of boxers, and socks. Maybe I should have just said something to him. Instead I let it fester in my head, in my heart. That's where the nightmares began.

Why hadn’t he asked me yet. I opened it, I opened the little black box and I saw the ring that lay there. Did it matter why Eddie hadn’t asked me. Was he backing out of his thoughts? Did he even want to get married? Marriage was so far off my bucket list that I hadn’t even thought about it as we were together. To me being together was enough for me, but as the words and the thoughts filled my head. I thought more and more about it.

It always started off the same way. Eddie on one knee, asking me. A happy dopey smile on his face. A fancy dinner, nice clothes, and that damned box filled with every hope someone could have for the person that they loved. I would look down, surprise on my face. My heart is beating faster than ever before. I take a step forward and remember all the hate, the tears that have fallen from my eyes. All the curses and the fights that happened between us.

The lies.

The hope.

All of it was fake, so why would I do this? Because it’s what I want deep down. I want the forever sort of love. The love that causes you so much heartache, but at the same time the love that makes you able to relive every great moment that happened in your life. The sort of life that every girl at the age of five through twenty wants. The princess story that every girl has heard of before. The knight that’s going to rescue her, so why would I say

“No Eddie I can’t.” God you never saw love being ripped from someone’s heart until you’ve said no. “Why?” His question is sharp, harsh in my ears. He’s more than angry. “I… I just…” The words get stuck in my throat. It hurts me more than Eddie can realize. Say No wasn’t what I had meant, was it? I’m not sure anymore, hell I’m not even sure of anything anymore. “Why, Lilly?” He asks again. Sharper, harder, meaner.

“I just… I don’t… I thought that we were okay going how we were. I thought that you were okay with just doing everything slow.” I say in a whisper. My heart is racing in my chest. Nobody is around. Nobody watches the rejection, but that’s not what it is. “I don’t wanna lose what we have now just because of a stupid piece of paper, and a fuckin’ ring Eddie.” I managed to get out. The box slams shut and lands on the table with a fumble. “What the hell does that even mean? You don’t wanna lose what we already have. Lilly that’s the whole point. Or is this something else? You don’t wanna get married to the town freak? You listen to that Carver mother fucker for far to long.” We stare at each other. “He doesn’t have a thing to do with this Eddie.” I try to reach out to him. Touch him, ground the both of us but he backs away. Hitting something with his body in an effort to get away from my touch.

He doesn’t look at me. He reaches for the door. “Wait… don’t do that… don’t go…” I cry out. My eyes are blurry with tears and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest. “You give me no choice Lilly. You don’t want us now, so I don’t I just go… Give you no choice.” Eddie says. “No Eddie please don’t” I try but he’s already out of the door, already not daring to look back at me.

—

“Baby!” I shout out. Lilly is tossing and turning next to me. Her breath is hard, and her heartbeat is racing under my hand. “Lilly!” I don’t give a shit about the many other bed and breakfast customers. I want Lilly to wake up and be with me. “Lilly please!” I say as I start to shake her from her nightmare. “Lilly, you need to wake up, baby. I’m here… just wake up and everything will be fine.” I murmur to her. Her eyes blink fast as she wakes from her nightmares. Her breath is quick as she tires. Catch them. She sits up faster than she needs to. Hitting her head on the wall. “Eddie!” Her eyes are filled with tears. She wraps her hands around my waist pulling me towards her. Barely giving me time to stop her from pulling me on top of her. “Baby?” Her breathing is still quick but as she breathes in and out her heart slows.

“You need to breathe, long and steady breaths baby.” I say to her gently. Checking the back of her head with the palm of my hand. “Ouch!” She shrieks, but at least she’s talking more. “What happened baby?” I ask, but silence takes over the room. “I don’t wanna talk about it Eddie.” She answers. I swallow the answers, willing myself to not push it. I can’t though. “Please tell me, I want to help you love.” I say gently untangling myself from her grip so I can look at her. “I just had a nightmare Eddie.” “A nightmare about Lilly?” I ask her. Tears bubble over her eyes. “You… we… just please don’t leave me!” She says, squeezing me tightly.

My brows tighten at her words. “I would never leave you. Not even if you push me out of your life. Never again will I leave. No matter what!” I said to her, Tear wet on my skin as I hold her tightly. Weeping into my hold on her. We stay like this for hours until dawn starts to hit through the sheer curtains. Lilly has fallen asleep, restfully sleeping on my chest. Heart beat slower and calmer than hours before. I breathe her in, watching as she sleeps against me.

Completed on: 07/19/23

Posted on: 07/20/23

[iamthepulta]

Sunless-Albion tasted like gunpowder and cinnamon.

If Westlie opened her mouth and breathed deep, she could ever-so-faintly taste hours on her tongue. A muted, earthy tang, like truffles stored in ice.

The sky was a deep pitch.

She hadn't gotten used to it, even after two years; even after near-death blowing up the sun; even after landing the Queen's final blow with her own two hands. None of it felt real.

Elijah's footsteps sounded on the stairwell and she turned as he made the final step. One mug was more carefully balanced than the other, lest it slip on his glass fingers. She took that one. They both settled against the railing.

She sipped. Elijah had made an Achlys blend of tea; dark, earthy, very familiar. She savored it. "... The sky's darker than I remember."

She couldn't see his smile behind the mug, but the skin behind his eyepatch wrinkled. "The Khanate has helped. There have been contributions."

"Contributions from you I hear."

His nose wrinkled. "Family contributions."

"Your contributions."

He ignored that, and Westlie dismissed it for another day.

"... How's Andy?"

"Brilliant." She smiled. "Still rough around the edges, but he learns quickly."

"You have an inordinate amount of patience for the most inexplicable things."

"Thank you," she sipped again. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"He needs it."

"He does."

"What about Arthur? Are you going to visit him?"

Westlie hesitated. "... Probably. At some point. I should."

Elijah hesitated, and Westlie could see the question on his face. She took another sip so she could hide behind her mug.

"Why haven't you come to London for two years?"

'Busy' was true, but it was also a lie. Westlie squinted at the stars like they would hold an answer and Elijah waited.

She admired that about him, as much as she hated it. That deep-sunken silence as she tried to reconcile her actions with words. She let her breath spiral in soft blotted clouds from the chill. "I... I don't know."

Elijah waited.

"Nothing's finished," she whispered. It sounded loud despite the noise of London. "There's so much to do- so many runs to make- we didn't finish."

"There's no sun in the sky. No throne of hours."

"Achlys-" Westlie's voice cracked; for a second she hated herself for sounding half her age. "New Winchester, Port Prosper- They took the brunt of London's invasion so we could have that chance. There isn't enough to repay them-"

She stayed quiet for a moment, hoping he'd read her mind- that she didn't want to sit. She had to do. Had to keep doing. She could help, she could fly, she was free, it was purpose, and whenever she was still there was that itch to keep pushing.

She wasn't Morgan- Gods knew where Marion and Sally and Morgan were off now to kill more Judgements- but she wanted to make things safe in the mess they were leaving. Which words said that?

"I- I just... I want to finish the job; and right now, it's not in London."

"I know." Elijah hesitated. He cleared his throat. "I mean, you have a ho- place here, if you want it. Somewhere to stay that isn't Arthur's."

"O-oh."

"I hoped you weren't staying away because of that." His voice softened a little. "I know you're not done."

"... how?"

"Your letters were happy." They'd finished their tea, so he couldn't hide the way his visible eye softened with understanding and the separation that lingered between them sometimes.

They stood there on the roof of the Fry mansion as gas lights shone through the mist and locomotives steamed to the docks.

"I missed you," Westlie blurted out. "It's not the same."

Elijah's face flushed a violent pink.

Her cheeks burned.

"I- fuck-"

"Yo- you have a home here, whenever you need-" Elijah's words were a little strangled but he managed. "I- I mean that."

oh fucking hell

In the middle of the night Elijah was still wearing his goddamn tie under his waistcoat and Westlie had parked in Wolfstack station and signed 29 pages of paperwork and after two years Elijah was still going to play dignified even though it was very, very attractive- and she dragged him into a kiss.

It was fierce and crushed and hurt, kinda, but she wanted it to hurt because she couldn't stop captaining, and there was a hole at her side where he once stood and that hole hurt, and she missed him and that hurt, and they were both gasping and red when she finally let go.

"... Ow."

"I love you." The words choked in her throat. "I love you- I will come home."

"You could have said that."

"I am- did."

"Gentler next time." But he was teasing now in his dry manner with the subtle up-quirk of the lip.

"Fine." Westlie waited for him to collect the mugs and face her again before she grabbed his tie.

She

gently

with

emphasized slowness

-pulled him down into another kiss that she did make softer that time because she was almost crying with relief. She didn't pull away at the end, and he rested his forehead on hers.

"I'm sorry," Westlie whispered, "for making you worry."

"Come home to me, Wes."

"I will."

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

Dear Ophelia,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have been informed by my colleague that you can treat and potentially cure anomalous afflictions. If this really is the case then I ask for your aid.

The daughter of one of our allies, now known as SCP 414, was the victim of an attempted abduction, and now they've been slowly turning into a book. We've been able to slow the process down but it has no current signs of stopping. If you can free up some time in your schedule, do you think you could take a look and see if you could cure or even stop the rate of her condition? It would mean a lot for our reality.

If not, then we understand. I hope you have a pleasant day.

Sincerely, One, from Tempest.

(@tempest-toss)

" Ophelia! Miss Ophelia! I have a message for you- It's urgent- it's-"

Red-faced and puffing, Mason, stopped at the doorway of the observation room to SCP-8713-B's secondary containment cell, bracing himself against the doorway as his body reeled in pain and exhaustion from the run from the site head to her containment cell- why the hell had they even stored her this far away in the first place?!

This unexpected intrusion, of course, drew Ophelia from her thoughts and stirred her from the contemplative silence of reviewing past reports beneath the glow of an old table lamp, to swiveling towards the direction of the not unwanted intruder, mouth forming a small o, as shock and concern overtook her expression.

" Mason?! What in the heavens has gotten into you? Please, sit down, compose yourself- what-"

Mason, though still heaving, his chest rising falling in ragged sporadic movements as it pointlessly grasped and clawed to get even a single ounce of air to his spent lungs, steadied his grip and pushed himself and the paper in his grasp towards Ophelia.

" What is this? "

" It's-- for you, from the higher ups,"

Taking the paper from her shaking hands into her own, and smoothing the wrinkled paper against the starched fabric of her chest, Ophelia roamed her eyes over the folded paper.

Mason hadn't been exaggerating, this WAS addressed to her, and not even by that silly number the Foundation insisted she refer to her as. No, it was her name, her full name.

Ophelia blinked, once then twice in disbelief - any thoughts of continuing a lecture surrounding safe exercise habits thrown to the wayside as she unfolded the paper. It had been ages since she had last laid eyes on actual letter written by hand- it seemed it was unheard of in the foundation.

" You mean Director Moose? "

" No, no, higher- I, I don't know if I'm allowed to say, but-"

Tumbling over his words, and the fear of saying something wrong and being smote from the heavens for a slip of the tongue, Mason pushed, urgency dripping from every labored syllable.

"Just, please read it, Ophelia,"

" I am, I am- I- Oh dear, " Clutching the paper tightly within her grasp and studying the words with concerned scrutiny, Ophelia trailed off despite herself, " dear, dear, dear. "

Turning her focus away from the letter, Ophelia glanced back at the form of her constant turned assistent, her voice soft as she questioned him rhetorically, not that the answer would change her decision in the slightest, but her look stony and severe and almost determined.

" When they say 'Book,' do they mean as in a picture book? "

"Ophelia- I- I don't know, I haven't been told anything more than you have, in fact I'd say you know more than I do, "

He turned to speak more, a quip on his tongue about how it was funny that an SCP with short term memory knew more than himself, however, Ophelia raised her hand, a silent 'that's enough,' as he had learned throughout his time with her.

" It's of no matter, Mason, could you please be a dear and write them back to say that I will be honoured to assist them- I cannot make any promises about what I will be able to do, but I will do my best, as a nurse and as a fellow mother. "

With these words, she fully stood up from her chair, collecting the journal she had before been reading into her grasp and a pen alongside it as she made her way towards the containment cell's entrance in long, gliding steps and past Mason, who had barely noticed her quiet movements, until the cool breeze of the air displaced by her dress struck him, knocking him from his thoughts and drawing his attention drawn back towards her.

" Ophelia- I think it would be better if you- wait, where are you going-"

" I'm going to pop down to the clinic and make up a bag- I will need my work bag and some supplies if I am to be able to treat this poor soul, and I will need to notify my superiors that I will have to take a leave of absence from duty for today,"

" Ophelia- I'm sure they'll have supplies for you down there, they wouldn't call you without prepping, right? And I can tell them that you won't be-"

" Nonsense, I will require implements I can trust are sterile and which I am versed in using. I wholeheartedly thank you for relaying such dire news, Mason, you've done more than enough and I will relieve you of your duties from here on. Now, I must go- time is of the essence,"

Cut off once more by the distinctive clop of her work shoes as she swiftly turned on her heels. Ophelia made her way down the hallway with haste. Leaving Mason to silently cursed to himself, before taking off after her.

-

Dear Tempest Reality O5-1

We have relayed your request to SCP-8713-B and we are pleased to announce that it has been highly receptive to your request and feels passionately that it may be useful in your causes.

We trust that upon completion of your request that you will return SCP-8713 back to us and forward our reality's foundation a copy of any proceeding information and findings for further cataloging of SCP-8713's file.

Regards,

O5-4

@tempest-toss

[riukiblog]

Facial Recognition

Mom has a circle face, you will see her beauty that never fades, and when she's on his side, you can see her jawline. Mom has circle eyes, thick eyebrows, and a flat nose like a tomato, but even so, dad liked her because of her beautiful face. 

However, when mom faces the sun, her face turns red. Mom has red lips like an apple, and her hair glimmers when exposed to the sun. However, as time goes by, mom gets older. I see on her face the tiredness and hardship she did for me and my sister. Mom's face now has wrinkles, but mom's beauty still doesn't fade. You can still see her beauty like a flower.

However  true beauty goes beyond physical appearance. Despite any imperfections or signs of aging, a person's inner beauty and the love and care they give to their family are what truly shine through. Mom may have features that change over time, but her enduring beauty lies in her strength, resilience, and the love she shows for me and my sister. So, it's important to appreciate and value people for who they are on the inside, rather than just focusing on outward appearances.

Literary Journalism

Over the course of more than a year, the entire world has faced an unexpected challenge: the COVID-19 pandemic. In the Philippines, its impact has been severe and alarming, leading to widespread changes in the lives of every Filipino.

As the pandemic progressed, it resulted in new common sights: streets that seemed like a frightening place due to the absence of people and shops closing their doors due to lack of income, and hospitals overwhelmed with fear and exhaustion. Images of tricycle drivers selling vegetables, workers like wilted vegetables because of walking long distances to get to work, and students struggling with limited internet connectivity became part of everyday life. Furthermore, what my mother and I experienced during the pandemic was not receiving sufficient aid due to unequal distribution in each barangay, and often, we kept eating the same food repeatedly because my mother couldn't work due to the pandemic. We also couldn't go out because we were afraid of getting infected with COVID-19. 

Life was difficult for us during the COVID outbreak because no one could go out, but thankfully, we had something to eat, albeit limited. When COVID-19 gradually disappeared, it felt like flowers basking in the sunlight with overwhelming joy, and I am deeply grateful to the Lord because none of us in our family contracted COVID-19.

Self Obituary

I'm Riuki Canlas, and I'm here to share that in this world, many people have different stories, goals, accomplishments, and legacies. Each person has their own path, whether it is dark or bright.

I am the youngest of my siblings. When I was in grade 6, my father left us. It hurt to lose my father, but even so, my mom was there to support me and my sister. Without mom, we would be like rotten plants. However, I am currently a grade 12 student, and despite feeling pressure, stress, and anxiety, which feels like a sword stabbing me, I always think positively and know right from wrong. However, I do everything for my mom because I love her so much. Furthermore, I am an extrovert and friendly. I am good at socializing, and I just want you to know that I would make a good classmate and friend.

Moreover, to everyone with shining eyes, no matter what failure or trial you have gone through, always think that you can do it. I want to be an inspiration to other people on how to be brave like mom. I want to tell them not to give up on their journey don't be afraid no matter what problem comes to you as long as always think positive.

Memoir

When I was 11 years old, my dad gave me a bike, and one day I skipped school with my cousin. While outside the subdivision, we encountered my classmate, who also had a bike. We decided to swap bikes, and while riding downhill road, we realized the borrowed bike had no brakes. Using my slippers as a brakes, and my cousin jumping behind me to help stop the bike, and the bike stopped immediately.

However, on the second try, the bike sped up uncontrollably, causing my cousin to fall when she jumped off. And I unsuccessfully tried to stop it with my slippers, and I go straight to the trash and got covered with garbage. I saw my cousin running towards me, to help me stand up, and we saw my classmate bike was broken, and for a while my cousin and me planned how to solve this problem. and we went to my classmate house to return his bike and we said, that the bike suddenly disappeared while we buying drinks and we found the bike was broken.

This experience taught me the importance of honesty and taking responsibility for my actions. Instead of creating elaborate excuses, it's better to admit mistakes, learn from them, and work towards making amends.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Tell us about Oskar before he was Oskar!

"Tell us a little about yourself," The woman says, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. She has a kind, welcoming smile, narrow rectangular glasses with bright green frames, and hair so black it seems to soak up light without giving any back.

The little sign on her desk reads DARYA RANDALL, DONATION COUNSELOR. Like he's giving up a kidney and not his entire life.

Cole clears his throat, shifting nervously. "Uh, not much to tell. I was born in Memphis-"

"You've come a long way," The woman notes. She writes something down on the paper in front of her, and Cole struggles not to crane his neck to see what it is. "What brought you to California?"

"My dad. Or... my dad's new wife. He met her online. He just... He was just dating all the time. He met this new woman, and she wanted him to move to, um. To her city. So he did, and Zae and I were dragged right along with him."

"Zae is your younger sister?"

"Yep."

"Did she also spend time in state care?"

"Nope." He pops the 'p' to cover up the gentle swell of bitterness. "Her mom wouldn't let her leave Tennessee, and it was in the custody agreement, so." He shrugs. "She's still back there. With her grandparents now, I think."

"Ah. So you were half-siblings."

Cole bristles a little, but the look of empathy and compassion in her face soothes his nerves. "Yes."

"And you had no family to-"

"Look, I came here because I give the fuck up," Cole says, but there's no anger lacing the words, just despair. "You think I have some kind of family to run back to, if I'm sitting here?"

"I'm sorry," She says, softly. He gets the feeling she actually means it. "We've already preverified your age and ability to donate. We just like to have some details for our own records, in case..." She trails off.

"In case someone reports me missing?" He suggests, and sees by the way her eyes sharply focus, suddenly, on him that his guess was correct. "Nobody, ma'am."

"Please, call me Darya." She smiles, and has a crooked tooth on one side. It's cute.

Cole smiles back, relaxing a little. "Okay, well, Darya... There's nobody. I aged out of care and maybe someone else can do better with my life than I have, you know? I'm just really tired. And I want someone else to fix it, change something."

She takes her pen and makes a little check next to something on the paper. "Well, as you know, WRU is in the business of changing lives. You sound pretty sincerely committed. Have you given thought to what designation you would prefer?"

"Whatever the cooking and cleaning one is. I don't want to... You know." He wiggles one hand in a vague gesture.

"Of course." Her smile turns slightly impish. "That would be Domestic, but Cole, what if I suggested Platonic? It seems more up your alley."

"What's that?"

"Well, sometimes they end up working with senior care, but... A Platonic is... a friend. A family member, if you will. Some other uses, but mostly... company."

Cole wrinkles his nose. "Like a dog?"

"... Not unlike one, yes. What do you think?"

Her pen is poised over the paper, and her smile is sweet and soft and kind. When is the last time anyone was kind to him?

"Sure," He says, finally. "Whatever works. I just want to hand all this... all this mess off to be someone else's problem."

"Of course." She makes another check. "Welcome to WRU, Cole. I'm going to step out and grab someone from legal and we'll get your contract signed right here and now and check you in, okay?" Darya stands, smoothing wrinkles from her pants automatically.

She's at the door when Cole says, "Wait, can I ask-"

There's a flicker of irritation overridden by her kind expression again. "Of course. Ask away."

"All that stuff online about what WRU does, hurting people and kidnapping them... That's all a lie, right?"

Her smile shifts - an oh, this question again look. "WRU had never ever taken on someone who didn't sign the contract of their own free will," She says, bright and cheerful. "You know how people are on the internet. They'd rather tell a good story where we're a James Bond villain than admit there are just... problems WRU can help people solve. You know? I wouldn't do what I do if I didn't know I was helping people. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah." Sort of, anyway. He watches her leave, then looks down at old scars on his knuckles.

Cole feels like a problem, all right.

Maybe WRU is the solution.

When she comes back, she has a dour-looking man in a suit and two of the WRU Handlers with her. They have all the paperwork for him to sign.

And they have a leather dog collar.

"Wait, I have to wear it right away?" Cole goes to stand, but one hand gently pushes him down by his shoulder. "I thought you-... took away memories first-"

"We will. Just stay right there, Cole."

"You sure about this?" One handler asks Darya.

She smiles, putting a hand on Cole's other shoulder. He has the surreal sense of being surrounded by hungry wolves. "I think he'll do best with a lighter touch, Connor. Let's get the ball rolling, shall we?"

The dour man - the lawyer - sets some papers down in front of Cole. Cole, hands shaking, signs them without reading, and then the collar is fastened around his neck.

It's as fast as that.

Three signatures and that's it. It's done.

"Welcome home," Darya says, shaking his hand. "WRU Trainee 332009. Thank you for handing us your life. I promise we'll take amazing care of it."

Her compassion is gone - all that he sees now is a very pleased predator.

Cole realizes, suddenly, that he's made a terrible mistake.

But when the handlers lead him from the room, he goes, eyes on the floor. He doesn't look up.

After all-

This is what he just signed up for, right?

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 7

Summary: In order to win, she might have to lose.

Warnings: angst, swearing, bit of fluff, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six  

=================================

Waking up to skies lit by the wintry sun is what Y/N expected. In the back of her mind, she remembers opening her eyes. Perhaps it’s her mind playing tricks on her, but she could swear she heard Aleksander’s voice softly speaking to her. 

Telling dreams from reality felt like an impossible task, but if it were a dream, would she really dream of him?

Death never crossed her mind. She was a soldier in an expendable army for most of her life, yet she never feared death. There was never a lingering sense of what if when they asked her if she believed in life after death, but she wondered now. Looking death in the eye had forced a realization upon her – she would die and achieve nothing. She married arguably the most powerful man in all of Ravka and she failed to utilize it. In the end, her name would be forgotten in history for her plans would all die with her.

Inhaling sharply, she wanted to open her eyes. A heaviness settles on her eyelids, making her groan. Her entire body felt dismantled, every nerve bare, inflicting pain.

“It’s alright”, a hand pressed to her forehead and Y/N frowns. Breathing heavily, she felt vulnerable, exposed.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes flutter open. With blurry vision, she looked up at the dark presence looming above her. Blinking fast, her lips part and before she can ask, cool liquid runs down her parched throat.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes closed again. She needed a moment to collect herself, to stop the world from spinning.

“It hurts”, she mumbles meekly.

“Shhh”, his voice reaches her. “I’m here”, she feels a gentle squeeze of his hand, “You’re safe.”

Resisting sleep, she opened her eyes once more. The sight of his tormented gaze leaves her nearly breathless. He’s still handsome, but it looks as if he’s aged ten years in just a few days.

“What happened?” Her voice is hoarse, still raspy from thirst and sleep.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week”, his forehead wrinkles, “We’ve just made it back.”

Despite the little voice in his head, the Darkling held onto his wife throughout the night. He kept her close to his chest, running his fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, injured so badly he could hear the strain her body was under with every breath she took.

Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted and his pressed in a thin line. Absurd. It was absurd to think that someone like that – so delicate, so fragile, could have any power over him. It baffles him just how quickly he found himself attached to this woman who was unremarkable in every possible way – or so he told himself.

Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off her since he first saw her. She radiates genuine beauty few possess, a confidence he’s never found in anyone in hundreds of years, and an air of mystery he couldn’t quite understand.

By the time morning light reached their tent, the Darkling just stared at her with care, studying every inch of her face as if it could be the last time he’ll ever be given a chance. He memorized the way she fit in his embrace, the rhythm of her beating heart in the dead of night and every labored breath as it threatened his sanity.

Anger was his best friend for so long, his shield against humanity, but his anger wasn’t all-consuming as it once was – it was directed to those who caused the swelling around her eyes and cuts across her cheekbones.

“General”, Ivan’s head peaked inside the tent only to swiftly disappear once he caught sight of a moment he was sure wasn’t meant for his eyes.

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling gently laid her head down. Caressing her cheek, he let a heavy sigh pass his lips. It’s been too long since he last felt so defenseless and helpless as he did now. He promised himself he’d never feel that way again and yet he found himself in the same cursed whirlwind of emotions as he was in when the fold came to be.

Biting his lower lip, he pushed it all down. If he’s distraught, his people would know. He cannot be emotional and still lead an army. He has to be strong – for Grisha and for Y/N.

“Ivan, we’ll have to find a healer soon”, Kirigan spoke in a hushed tone. Glancing at the tent, he felt a lump growing at the back of his throat. “I believe she’s developed a fever too.”

“Fedyor can try to cool her temperature”, Ivan offers, “He’ll slow her heart and keep her breathing. I’ll trade with him if necessary.”

Nodding, the general was satisfied with Ivan’s solution. For once, Ivan didn’t question why he wanted to protect her. This time, he was offered aid rather than words of discouragement.

“I’ll have to leave some of our own here”, Kirigan looks at the direction they came from. “The Fjerdans came too close and I need to know why. Why would they take my wife?”

Ivan lowers his voice, making sure he doesn’t wake up Y/N, “Perhaps it was a coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when her safety is at stake.”

Nodding, Ivan glances at Fedyor. He’d be the same if anyone touched his beloved. Suppressing a smile, Ivan finally realized it – no matter how vehemently the general denies it, his heart is no longer his.

“What are the orders? I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Take back what they took, place their heads on a stake and wait. More should come soon and when they do, I want to know why they came so close to Little Palace and who ordered them to take my wife.”

Squinting, not in anger but to see him better, Y/N frowns, “A week?”

“Winter made it hard for us to move faster and you were in no shape to ride back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of air, she raised an eyebrow, “So you carried me?”

“Ivan and Fedyor kept you alive too.”

Wetting her chapped lips, she hesitated. Her fingers burned, itching to touch him, to intertwine with his.

“A healer should be here any minute now”, Aleksander informed, pulling his hand out of hers as if he could sense her inner battles and decided to help her by removing himself from it entirely.

“No”, she decided.

Standing abruptly, his jaw clenched. Despite his stern expression, his eyes hold all the sadness in the world, pleading eyes that both threaten and adore.

“No?” He repeats with disdain, “What do you mean by no?”

Holding her breath, she endures a sharp pain in her ribcage as she propped herself up on her elbows. Breathing heavily, she directed her determined gaze on him. “I’m human, am I not?”

Squinting at her, his lips part, “And?”

Struggling to prevent herself from laughing at the way he looked at her now, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Humans aren’t allowed aid of a healer. We go to the medics.”

“You’re my wife”, he remarks almost instantaneously, slightly wishing she remained unconscious for a while longer. If she slept, the healer would have done their job and there would be no argument. There was no doubt about it, their truce was over.

“But I’m still a human. The rest of my kind don’t have the privilege of being married to you.” Her voice is stern, low and frustratingly righteous.

“You need a healer or you might not survive”, Aleksander insisted.

“Then let me die.” She stared at him, no signs of crumbling and it made him feel like he’s drowning.

Rubbing his forehead, the Darkling shut his eyes in frustration. After all the sleepless nights, his head felt like it would implode. All he had on his mind was her safety and now when he brought her home, she refused help.

“What do you want?”

Knitting her eyebrows, she glanced at his jaw as it clenched. “What?”

Her voice is higher, almost confused but he knew better than that. “I’ve known you for almost two months.” Two months too long, he thought. “I know when you’re trying to extort me.”

Covering her mouth, Y/N suppressed a laugh. Truth be told, it’s exactly what she’s doing, she just didn’t expect him to cave so quickly.

“Healers for the First army”, her lips twitch. Pursing her lips, she bites the soft flesh on the inside of her mouth to stop herself from smiling at all costs.

“No”, he spoke through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, she laid back down. “Alright then. I only regret I won’t be here to hear you explain my death to the Tsar and my father.”

Growling under his breath, he swipes his hand down his face. “One healer.”

“Two”, she argued, sitting up with a pained expression on her face.

“We can’t spare two”, the Darkling crosses his arms, his eyes darker than ever before.

Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Two healers or no deal.”

Releasing a long, heavy breath in frustration, the Darkling felt his insides turn. “Two healers but only for those who can’t get better with a week long rest on their own.”

“Two healers for those who can’t get better in a few days of rest AND the same amount of food and water for the First army.”

Running a hand through his hair, the general’s nostrils flare. Cracking his neck to the left, to the right, he turned his death glare back on his wife. “Food and water are limited for Grisha as well.”

“I saw them eat grapes”, Y/N deadpans. “You have enough, so share. If the First army dies out, who will protect your precious Grisha?”

Folding her hands in her lap, she maintained eye contact with the general who refused to blink. He stared back at her, aghast. The woman was impossible! She made every word that passed her lips a contest of wills.

His jaw set, he moved closer to stand before her. He looked formidable with the relentless, firm pools of black ink for eyes devouring her with intensity, too hard in comparison to what she had seen in the tent. He looked like he could kill her without even putting a hand on her…something she still expected him to do.

What was stopping him? She was far behind enemy lines, no reinforcements and she saw what he can do – he could kill everyone who stood in his way.

“Fine”, he huffs. “Under one condition.”

Rolling her eyes, she nods, “What is it?”

“I want a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed to his. Ringed with golden bruises, she was still alluring – like a wildfire or a storm. No…she is wildfire, a storm. She is deadly and uncontrollable and slightly out of her wits and he’s asking her to be his ruination. It isn’t love, he tells himself, it’s obsession.

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N didn’t bother hiding her surprise. A kiss? Of all the things he could have asked, the big bad general who can summon shadows is asking for a kiss?

A part of her trusted Aleksander and that trust demanded intimacy. She wanted his hands on her – in her hair, his lips on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable and that’s what worried her. Trusting him, needing him, it’s bound to breed love and self-inflicted madness. If it were anything else, she would outright refuse him, but she has so many lives dependent on her answer.

“Tonight”, she decided. If her own sanity is the price to pay, she will do what she has to do.

Nodding, the Darkling retreated. Leaving the room, he opened the door for the healer to enter. Sparing her a quick look, he swallowed thickly as the thought of her willingly kissing him made his heart slam into the rib cage. Even his heart wanted to escape him as it too longed for her hands’ touch.

He didn’t make more than two steps outside the room when a Grisha joined him - one of his many spies.

“What do you have for me?”

The spy beckons him to the side, looking around wildly. “This could change everything.”

“What is it?” The Darkling speaks through gritted teeth, demanding an answer.

“There is talk”, the spy pauses, “Of a Sun Summoner.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Healed, bathed and properly fed, Y/N had paced their room in anticipation of his arrival. She had seen the look in his eyes earlier that day – something between them has changed.

As the door opens, her breath halts inside her throat.

“I thought you were lost”, Genya admitted. “When they found your mare, I lost hope.”

Smiling, Y/N cupped her cheek. “I did too”, she sniffled.

The Darkling felt, more than saw, her presence as he entered the room. He turned slowly, his breath held. Her hair looked darker in the candlelight, its rich color gleaming against the green velvet of fresh sheets on the bed she leaned against. He could hardly speak. The nearness of her, the quiet room, the candlelight made him question the reality of what he was looking at.

“You look better”, Aleksander managed a curt smile, looking at Y/N and her attire. The sheer nightdress she wore was back, perfectly outlining her figure.

“Why did they take you?” Genya asked, unshead tears weighing heavily on her eyes. “Did they know?”

“No”, Y/N shakes her head, “But they found out.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. Kirigan killed them all.” Y/N glanced at the door where she expected her husband to appear later on.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N felt her heart flip. “It helped me realize something.”

Frowning, Genya waited for Y/N to explain.

“Your General does have a heart”, she states. His request for a kiss lingered in every thought her mind could concoct.

She stared at him then slowly untied the belt of her robe and it glided languidly over her smooth skin, falling to her feet.

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. 

“Of course he does”, Genya chuckles, “He was most worried when you were taken. He promised he’d kill them all and bathe in their blood.”

“I think I can use that.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya’s frown deepened. “How?”

Pressing her lips, Y/N sighed. “In order for me to win”, she paused, “He needs to believe he did.”

“Husband”, she spoke clearly. She feigned confidence, but inside she quivered.

She had barely finished the syllable when she was in his arms, being carried to their bed, his lips already fastened to hers. She felt his lips hit hers like a tornado, his admission of burning the world in her name spinning in her head. It could have been a fever dream, but she would bet her life it wasn’t.

Holding her chin in place, he rested his forehead on hers, heaving from the kiss. She couldn’t open her eyes, clinging to him for dear life, but even with eyes closed, Y/N could hear the emotions thick in his voice.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not willing.” He whispered against his lips, all too prepared for his hands to roam her body now.

Y/N was afraid of herself as well as of him. He could sense it as he kissed her. He’d waited a long time for her to come to him and now it seems she was more than ready to give herself to him without his talk of her marital duty.

He expected anything but to find her with her arms wide open.  But even now, as he held her, he felt no great sense of triumph.

Pulling the sheet over her, he stood. “I can wait.”

The sheet accented her shoulders and the full swelling of her breasts. The candlelight deepened the shadow above the sheet. Her bare throat pulsed with life. Her face was set in a firm, serious expression that caused her eyes to darken. Her lips were hard, as if carved of marble and he ached to part them into a smile.

Turning away, he began undressing himself for bed, wondering how he could survive a night beside her if she remains as she is now.

She averts her gaze, whispering under her breath in confusion, “Wait?”

He laid beside her, barely dressed at all. She found herself achingly aware of his presence. The only light in the room was from the flames of candles she placed across the room. The light danced on her hair, played with the shadows of her delicate collarbones. At this moment, he remembered nothing of the arrangement their marriage was meant to be. He knew only that he was in bed with a desirable woman, one he never expected to claim. She seemed too headstrong to ever give into his charm, yet she bared herself before him and he couldn’t take advantage of her.

“Why don’t you want me?” She sat up, glaring at him. She let the sheet fall as his eyes met hers, bravely fixing him with her fiery gaze.

Rolling his eyes, he looks away. How can she torment him like this with no shame?

If anything, he felt like she’s attacking him. “I don’t want to hear about how a demon took you by force for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not force if I’m giving myself willingly, is it?” She raised an eyebrow, deciding on a tactic finally. Aleksander is a general, a conqueror at heart and she saw the desire in his eyes. If there was any hope of her plan to work, she had to harness his desire to convince him he won.

Licking his lips as he cracked a smile, Aleksander nodded in surprise, unable to keep his eyes from wandering lower to her breasts. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He wanted to possess her, to claim this difficult, headstrong woman for himself. His mouth came down brutally hard on hers, claiming them, nearly bruising them.

Y/N fumbled with the sheet that wrapped around her, making Aleksander chuckle into the kiss.

“Let me help you,” Aleksander purred and tore the sheet away, pulling it from under the mattress.

Wrapping his hand around Y/N’s neck, his grip was oddly weak, gentle even. She laid nude before him, his gaze fixed on her. He stared at her in wonder; her full breasts, curvy waist, round hips. Then he looked back at her face, her eyes blazing. Her lips were reddened from his kiss, and suddenly there was no power on earth that could stop him from taking her.

“You make me feel”, he pauses in anguish, “You make me feel”, he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

He pushed her into the mattress and Y/N saw the ruthless general in his eyes and for a moment she feared it. A general isn’t gentle at all, not like Aleksander could be. She feared the pain he’d cause and the tears that would follow. She feared what he’d do to her, but then the fear she felt dissipated as he spoke against her lips.

“I’ll go slowly.” Aleksander stopped himself, remembering she’s never had a man in her bed before and once he saw the fear in her eyes extinguish the flame he already adored, he reeled himself in.

“Your hands are bloody from murder”, she paused, “But I trust them completely.” Her voice had never been smaller, her hands never as desperate as she clung to him. She wanted to trust the sudden, overwhelming warmth in his unrelentingly tender gaze, but she still awaited the pain that was yet to come. He moved on top of her, his lips attaching to her neck gently as he pressed a kiss above her pulsating carotid, knowing she’s nervous as he felt the pace of her pulse.

With one thigh, Aleksander parted hers. He kissed her again, passionate and slow, distracting her as his hand moves lower, down to the intimate parts she never allowed another only man to see, to feel. Slipping his finger between her folds, he found if applied enough pressure a desperate moan escapes her without a fail. He feels her breathing change as he begins to rub circles, her thighs trying to push against his in a need of more friction. And that’s when control escapes her and she closes her eyes completely, letting the pleasure take over.

Unable to wait any longer, Aleksander pushed the head of his hardened length between the folds, feeling her wetness pooling over as nature’s lubricant. Feeling the membrane, he stops for a moment. Looking at her carefully for any signs of distress, he wonders if she even realizes what is about to happen.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, fearing she may change her mind.

Gripping his arm, she nods. “Yes”, she replies, breathless.

Pressing himself inside, he bows his head in the crook of her neck, growling lowly in pleasure. It’s not the first virgin he had, but it’s the first one that made him want to come on the first thrust.

“Go on.” She encourages him, surprising them both. Swallowing thickly, she sinks her nails into his back, anticipating the next thrust. It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t in pain, but she knew it would get easier as he moves again and she would feel the pleasure again – and she wanted the pleasure more than the pain.

Nodding, Aleksander starts moving in and out slowly, refusing to risk her pain for a little more pleasure he’d find in speed and his untimely release. Instead, he’s using deep, slow strokes with a relentless care for the nerve bundle between her folds. Every passing second draws louder moans from her until he feels her clench around him, his own mind blackening as he feels himself nearing the edge. She’s holding him so tightly to her body, so desperately as she unravels beneath him. Picking up pace, he finally loses control, jerking his hips to meet hers in a deep thrust only to finish deep inside her, allowing them both to breathe.

Rolling off her, Aleksander decided to stay quiet, allowing her to have control of the moment. If she wants his embrace, he’d do it for her and if she wants to talk, he’d talk to her, otherwise, he’d just sleep. It’s been so long since he truly slept – since the day they went for that ride.

He placed an arm around her for comfort alone, not pressing himself closer than necessary, closing his eyes once he realizes she’s not interested in him at all after she came down from her high.

Waiting for a few minutes, Y/N pretended to sleep. After the hurricane of emotions he’d given her, Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She wanted to relax, to sleep in bliss, but a part of her ached. She ached for who she used to be. Would her father hate her for what she just did? Would her people denounce her for sleeping with the enemy?

Her eyes opened wide, finding his are still closed. Lips quivering, she felt herself crumble as tears fled her eyes. She watched his sleeping figure and sighed deeply, telling herself to stop crying. She was supposed to be in control of him, to make him want her and crave her, yet she found it was the opposite. She didn’t love him, but she did feel a connection…perhaps it’s the kindness he showed her when he rescued her or the pleasure he had given her, but something inside her changed and the heart she hardened on purpose found a soft spot for the general.

=============================

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Part 8