#MY EXILE BOY NOTICE ME!!!!!!!!

[banqanas]

Balliboyz Ryuta was doing silly voices while posing like his official sticker and he read MY (me!!!!!!! mine!!!!!!!!) comment 🙏😇

ryuta CL cast

[peanutpinet]

Protection - Sylus x Fem Hunter Reader

Prompt: When you were taking a stroll around the N109 zone, thinking that the brooch Sylus gave you would keep everyone out, but some men just couldn’t take a hint

A/N: We don’t really have much idea regarding the infrastructure of the N109 zone but I decided to keep it simple and make it somewhat like an actual city but ruthless yet lavish at the same time. Consider it more like Isle of the Lost from Descendants but more lavish in the sense that a lot of the rich corrupted people live here.

Warning: some cursing, degrading names (not from Sylus), protective yet aggressive Sylus (not aggressive towards MC), some other LADS characters mentioned (briefly), ending on a slight suggestive scene, not proofread

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

You were bored. Sylus was out for a business meeting whereas the twins were out cleaning up some mess that some of Sylus’ other henchmen created. Even Mephisto was nowhere to be seen. You’ve read the books you wanted to read in the library Sylus made for you. You even cleaned up the master bedroom, did laundry, and even updated your logbook regarding your findings on the aether core and about the N109, of course, you left out any significant details regarding Sylus and the twins in your logbook.

Sighing, you decided to walk through the penthouse that you were in until you noticed Sylus’ black card on his desk with a note attached next to it. “Did Mephisto come here just to deliver this card and note?” you thought to yourself as you opened the note

“I’m sorry that I might have to be back later than expected, sweetie. As compensation, here’s my card. Feel free to use any of the cars and buy anything you’d like. All charges on my card, of course. Wouldn’t want you to take out even a cent of your hunters’ savings. I’ll be back soon, sweetie. Mephisto will keep an eye on you but if anything happens, you call me and I’ll be there the second you ask me to”

At first, you thought that Sylus was teasing you because he has unlimited access to anything but then you decided to play along and use his card. You first used his card to pay for your rent, bills, and maybe decided to buy some gifts for your friends in Linkon, especially Tara.

As the day goes on, you finally decide to take one of Sylus’ cars and head out to grab some groceries, maybe head to a nearby restaurant or shop for something else. You first headed to the grocery store that was ridiculously priced. Well, what do you expect at a place that was exiled from everywhere else.

You were paying when one of the shopkeepers noticed your brooch and decided to give you a significant amount of discount. “S-sorry? Discount?” you questioned, as you were about to hand Sylus’ card which didn’t go unnoticed by the shopkeeper

“Yes. That brooch. It belongs to Onychinus and the card, it has Sylus’ name” the shopkeeper mentioned, making you even more confused

“O-okay, what does Sylus have to do with this? Did he threaten you?” you asked and the shopkeeper instead shook their head

“Oh dear no. It’s quite the opposite. Sylus actually helped us a long time ago. It was during his early days in the N109 zone, when he started to make a name for himself. He was quite the sweet boy. Despite not looking like it, he would always help the elders around. That’s why we would give discounts for him or anyone who wears that brooch which from what I remember, there were only 2 others, supposedly twins?” the shopkeeper mentioned while you just nod

After buying groceries, you decided to head to a nearby restaurant/bar. As you entered the place, you were again caught off guard by Sylus's influence in the N109 zone. Right as the receptionist was about to ask you about any reservation you’ve made until their eyes landed on the brooch you were wearing. Without saying anything else, they immediately directed you to a secluded area where along the way, you could feel everyone eyeing you; unsubtle whispering about the brooch that you were wearing.

“Isn’t that the Onychinus’ brooch?”

“Why is she wearing that brooch? No one has been able to get that brooch from Sylus at all”

“She’s probably his personal assistant or his personal whore”

You didn’t care about what they were saying about you but you were now more than intrigued about how valuable and influential Sylus truly was in this zone since he only needed the twins to clean up his mess. You didn’t realise that you had already been brought to your table until the waiter mentioned it to you. “Miss? Here’s your table. Please don’t hesitate to order anything or call us for anything at all. We’ll immediately charge it under Mr. Sylus’ name”

Before you could ask what the waiter meant with his second half of the sentence, he already left and you were all alone in a room upstairs of the restaurant where you could see the entirety of the place. Sighing, you decided to order some simple meals and while you were waiting, you decided to scroll on your phone where you got messages from Tara who asked how you were doing.

As your dinner came, you received another text message, this time was from Sylus. For once, you were actually excited despite seeing him practically every day.

“It seems you’ve gotten my message, kitten. I’ve also gotten several messages regarding your spending of the day. Though am a little disappointed that it’s nowhere near the amount I was expecting but we can change that overtime. I’m done with my business for the day and I’ll be seeing you soon. Sit tight, sweetie”

You then started to eat your dinner, just replying to some of your other colleagues when suddenly the waiter brought you a glass of wine. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this” you mentioned but instead, another voice came through the room you were in which confused you because you thought that only Sylus was allowed in here.

“I ordered for you. I saw you came into the restaurant and never have I seen anyone wearing that brooch other than Sylus or two of his minions come into here. You must be very special or have done something special to have gotten that brooch” the man came into the room as the waiter closed the door

You were about to call the waiter when the man stopped you. “Don’t bother. I owned the place. Now, what’s a pretty thing like you wearing that brooch doing here? Are you planning to have a meeting with someone? Or perhaps do business?”

“Is it wrong for a woman to be out on her own at a restaurant just to have time for herself and not be bothered by anyone?” you cuss back but instead of getting angry, the man only chuckled as he scoot closer to you while you were preparing for what he was going to do

“Of course not, there’s completely nothing wrong with that but you should know” the man came even closer, basically trapping you between the cushion and his slightly bigger figure. “Woman in the N109 zone are just pawns for us to get closer to a certain treasure. So, why not leave Sylus and just…”

He didn’t even get to utter any other word before you kicked his crotch, making him whine in pain. “You bitch” the man launch himself onto you but because you were a hunter, you were able to defend yourself and knock him down until he suddenly caught you off guard by swiping your leg and immediately got up to choke you onto the table.

Even as a hunter, you still struggle to find an opening, especially with your heart problems, you were gasping for air and even almost passed out had someone not removed the man off of you.

“It seems that the brooch isn’t enough message, is it, Max?” you heard Sylus’ voice as you felt a warm large hand wrapped around your waist comforting you; in contrast to the sharp tone Sylus was speaking with

You managed to take a quick glance and saw the man who you now know as Max was being choked by Sylus’ evol as the man of the hour seemed unfazed.

Within the few seconds you were in Sylus’ arm, you passed out from lack of air due to the choking and Sylus was internally trying to calm himself from what could have happened.

“S-sylus…you should know that killing me won’t give you the satisfaction you’re looking for” Max choked out. “Plus, you won’t be able to find a place for you to do personal business as you please”

Chuckling, Sylus turned to look at Max, his right eye was glowing to a brighter red hue. “You’re right. Killing you is too easy. It’s not satisfying at all. As for personal business, you don’t know me. I suggest you not make any assumptions regarding my business. But since you touched someone with the brooch, I think I should make myself clear to the entire zone, don’t you think this has become my business? So why don’t we continue this in my terms, hmm?”

Within a blink of an eye, Sylus teleported the three of you into this home and used his evol to chain Max. “Why don’t you hang around for a bit? I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much, Max” Sylus chuckled to himself as he used his evol to tighten the chains around Max, especially around his neck

“B-boss? Miss hunter?” the twins were shocked to see you unconscious in Sylus’ arm while Sylus looks more annoyed with a hint of worry in his eyes

“She’ll be fine. Some sweat fucker touched her” Sylus mentioned, making the twins gasp in shock. “Even when she’s wearing the brooch?!” Luke questioned and Sylus nodded

“You two know what to do. Safe some fun for me though” Sylus smirked as the twins nodded. “Sure thing boss!!” with that, the twins went off to where Sylus imprisoned

Going into the master bedroom, Sylus laid you on the bed, helping you to take off your boots then going to take off his own coat before going to the bathroom to get a cold cloth for you.

Despite using his hands to harm and even take lives, you’re the only person he has ever been this gentle with. It’s as if one wrong touch and he could’ve done more harm instead of helping you. As Sylus was softly wiping your face, you slowly fluttered your eyes open and saw Sylus caressing your cheek. You slowly bring your hand to his hand that was on your cheek, calling out to him in a coarse voice.

“S-sylus?” you managed to call out to the man that’s in front of you

Sighing, Sylus was about to let go of your hand but you managed to hold his hand firmly in yours. “Sweetie, I’m just getting you water. I promise I’m not going anywhere” Sylus mentioned and only then did you slowly let go of his hand

Sylus took the glass of water he prepared for you and with his free hand gently snaked around your neck and pulled you up slowly, he brought the water to your mouth. “Drink. You need it” Sylus mentioned and you obliged

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” Sylus asked, placing the glass of water down but his other hand still holding your neck now also caressing it, making you hum. “Yeah, I’m okay. M’sorry for getting you tangled up in just a simple issue that I should’ve been able to handle” you apologised

“Why are you apologising?” Sylus questioned. “Sure, you’re a hunter but that doesn’t mean you're invincible and don’t need help. Needing help doesn’t mean you’re weak or unworthy of being a hunter, sweetie. There’s a reason why you need a partner” Sylus consoled you

“What about you then?” you asked back. “What about me, sweetheart?”

“Even if you can’t die, that doesn’t mean that you’re invincible either. Don’t you get hurt? Even if it’s not physically?” you questioned, making Sylus chuckle as he ruffled your hair

“Well, you mean like just now? Seeing you getting hurt and pinned down like that, gasping for air like your life depends on it. You might be physically hurt, but I’m also in pain. It pains me to see you in that state. In a state where you’re so vulnerable and unable to do anything, I almost burned the entire place down at that moment until I actually felt you in my arms and heard your heart slowly beating back at a normal pace” Sylus admitted, now cupping your face in his large hands

“I’m sorry for making you worried. I thought that the brooch would keep people away but it looks like some people just can’t take a hint” you sighed, trying to look away but instead, Sylus forced you to look at him. “Look at me, sweetheart” you turned to see Sylus whose eyes weren’t cold like they usually are. For once, it looked like his eyes were smiling

“It wasn’t your fault. What happened back there was out of your control. You’re right, some fuckers just can’t take a hint. So, instead of sulking about what happened in the past, why don’t we look past that and do other things?” Sylus smiled, brushing his nose against yours as he pressed his forehead on yours as well

“What other things would you do to help me get that image out of my mind, Mr Sylus?” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck, making Sylus hold the back of your head with one of his hands while the other one was supporting his weight so he doesn’t crash onto you.

“Ooh? I can think of several ways to help ease your mind, kitten. Starting by giving you a different kind of mark that will ensure no one has the balls to even so much look at you” Sylus smirked, leaning to close the gap between the two of you

A/N: OMG thank you so so much to the LADS community for liking my first LADS/Sylus fic, I'm new to the game and community and am already fangirling hard T^T well, here's to a better mental health with the LADS men despite their tragic backstories :')

[trans-axolotl]

my gendered experience growing up as an intersex person was overwhelmingly defined by my responses and resistance to everything that got me labeled as a failure: failure to quickly get a gender assigned at birth, failure to go through a normal puberty and grow up into a woman, failure at meeting the standards for "complete womanhood" because of my intersex sex traits, and yet simultaneously failing to ever be acknowledged as a "real man" and being treated as a threat when I expressed I wanted to transition.

before i realized i was a man and came out as trans, the ways that girlhood was denied to me was very often humiliating and painful. locker rooms filled with other girls were a frequent source of shame. there were many big and small ways that i was told that my intersex body made me insufficient, incomplete, broken. i was forced onto estrogen, forced into shaving my body hair, and was constantly being told to change myself to better fit this mystical idea of a "normal woman." and even though I ultimately ended up becoming a man, the denial of girlhood was painful.

but i think that these things would have been even more difficult to navigate as an intersex girl if on top of everything I already said, i was having to cope with the denial of my girlhood while i was forced into boys locker rooms. if my doctors were forcing me onto testosterone hrt and refusing to even discuss estrogen, if all my legal paperwork had "M" on it and was a logistical nightmare to change, if every support group for my intersex variation labeled it as a "men's support group," if the LGBTQ community spaces i tried to join were misogynistic towards me often to the point of exile, if my self determination as an intersex girl was denied in most spaces of my life, and on and on and on. while listing all these things out i also don't want to make it seem like it's all about suffering and pain--so much of transition for me has been about joy in my self determination and how much it feels like a reclamation of autonomy to decide what I want my body and self to be like--i know this is an experience i share with so many of my trans intersex friends.

as an person who was AFAB, although there were many ways that trying to grow up as an intersex girl were a painful, logistical nightmare, many times and places that i was excluded from woman's spaces, etc. however, there was a simultaneous affirmation that i was right to strive for that in the first place. which is logic rooted in some fucked up compulsory dyadism, but also which would have made some things slightly easier or even possible at all if i had wanted to embrace being an intersex girl within this fucked up system.

pretty much every time i've seen people on tumblr talking about "afab transfems" in an intersex context, people seem happy to collapse these experiences and act like there's no meaningful distinction or point in distinguishing between different types of intersex embodiment. it seems incredibly extractive, to be perfectly honest with you--taking terms already used by a community to make meaning of their experiences and to expand and dilute that term enough that it means something pretty different than the original.

it's making me think about the concept of epistemic injustice, which is a term coined by Miranda Fricker to describe oppression related to knowledge, communication, and making meaning of the world. There's two subtypes of epistemic injustice: testimonial injustice and hermeneutical injustice. Testimonial injustice refers to the dynamic where marginalized people are labeled as not credible, excluded from conversations, and their testimony and knowledge is labeled as unreliable, even when they're the ones who are experts and have first hand experience of what people are talking about. (this is why i probably won't make this post rebloggable--i've noticed this pattern on tumblr many times where trans men speaking about transmisogyny get lots of notes and are given a lot of grace, where trans women are silenced, attacked for not having perfect wording, and otherwise delegitimized.)

the second type is called hermeneutical injustice. it describes how marginalized people are denied the right to make sense of the experiences in their own lives. this can look like preventing people from building community, terminology, a political understanding of themselves, and the interpretive resources needed to process how you live in the world.

this is a form of injustice that I think almost all intersex people are very familiar with--we are denied community and interpretive resources to the point that we're told we don't even exist, that intersex isn't a real word, and so many more examples that leave us isolated and with very few options for understanding what we're collectively experiencing. as an intersex person i really intimately understand how frustrating, confusing, and painful it is to not have words for your experiences, your identity, your life.

so it makes me really sad and pissed off when it seems like intersex people seem to be replicating this exact same type of epistemic injustice towards transfems and specifically towards intersex transfems. pretty much every time recently i see people talking about "afab transfems" they're doing so in a way that seems to deny that trans women even have the right to make sense of their own experiences in the world. there seems to be this mindset that these political frameworks, these interpretive resources that transfems have built up are just up for grabs for anyone. and then on top of that has come with it a lot of cruel, hateful language and direct attacks towards many intersex transfems who are facing so much harassment right now.

an important value to me is this idea of reciprocity as a foundation for solidarity. to me reciprocity means that we're prioritizing the ways we care for each other, we're thinking about how we can uplift each other, and we're watching out for extractive or exploitative patterns where one group is constantly expected to be in "solidarity" with another group without getting the same respect and care back toward them. i think that there could be so many ways that intersex people of all genders could share our overlapping experiences and actually be in true, meaningful solidarity with each other, but i barely ever actually see that happen on tumblr. and that pisses me off, because i do think that there's so much we have in common that we could celebrate and support each other with. i feel so much kinship with so, so many of my trans intersex friends, and ways where i see our lives converge. but i don't think that can happen in an environment where there's no acknowledgment of the ways that our experiences will sometimes (often) differ from each other, and the ways that we have unique needs.

another frustration i've had based on this most recent couple months of transmisogynistic intersex posting on tumblr is how intersex people have been mostly ignoring intersex community resources and devaluing the existing intersex terminology that people created to try to meet our needs. so much of what i've seen people describing on tumblr seems to really line up with the term ipsogender. Ipsogender is a term coined by an intersex sociologist Cary Gabriel Costello, and is used to describe intersex people whose gender matches the gender they were medically assigned at birth, but who might not feel like cis or trans fits them, might experience dysphoria, and who might feel like they've ended up transitioning medically or socially in some ways. this is a word that exists that an intersex person put time into coining because they wanted other intersex people to feel seen, embraced, and have ways of understanding themselves and communicating to others, and that's something that's super meaningful to me! and yet, i've rarely seen anyone reference it, and also seen multiple people making fun of it in other spaces online.

there's also intergender, which is another intersex specific gender term used to describe when your gender is inseparable from your intersex traits, and that your intersex identity is intertwined with your gender identity in some way. some people just identify as intergender, others use it as an adjective and exist as an intergender man or woman. intersex terminology like this is really important to me, especially because we're so often denied the right to make sense of our own experiences.

i think ultimately what i wanted to say with this post is just that when i think about intersex community, some of the most important values of intersex community for me are solidarity, care for each other, and affirming our right to define our own existence. and i don't think that can happen in a community where people are acting in extractive ways, harassing and attacking their fellow community members, and being dismissive of the realities of other intersex people's lives.

[https-sourlimes]

home meals with you! . . .

featuring – aventurine x gn!reader

synopsis: there was a lot going on in his head... perhaps he thought, your cooking was too good for him, and he never deserved you at all...

consist of: 1k2+ word vomit... aventurine is a nervous emotional wreck, and if i say it's angst to fluff would you believe me? mentions of food, and marriage (champagne problems referred iykyk), domestic life w aven.

sincere regards to my pookie @akutasoda for helping me brainstorm an idea and proofreading; my favourite aventurine kisser @theother-victoria for proofreading <33

quality time was the love language that AVENTURINE did not know that he possessed. he never knew a thing or two of the reason why or when it started, but when he stirred awake by the warmth of sunlight streaming down his face, patting on the mattress beside him then found it empty, he'd end up dozing off again on his belly in your secured arms when he found you by the living room's couch; his weekend was dedicated to you, and he just wanted you with him, to selfishly ask for the affection that you showered on him always and think it would never be enough.

spoiling you until he's broken broke is what aventurine concepts. to him, gift giving is the effortless love language that he can express, whilst the four remains never worked out on the aventurine who lived in the orbit of lies and contract. he thought that it'll be easier that way, and he is slowly letting love once again thaw away his dense heart, and the one who did it so perfectly, much to his expectations, was you. then, to his surprise, the idea of you demanding shiny, glamorous luxuries or brands vanished when he found himself with you in the oti mall, browsing by the groceries, picking up the fresh ingredients of your liking, instead.

"i love homemade meals," you told him – and aventurine couldn't help the fond smile he was wearing when he looked at you tiptoeing to reach the higher shelves for the pasta box of your favourite and the childish excitement in your eyes as you skip back to him to show him what you got. and then suddenly, aventurine feels like he loves homemade meals, too.

does the image of you – putting your hand around his arm, aimlessly strolling through the shop while he was pushing the cart, your thoughts were elsewhere between the ingredients of the upcoming meal and never noticing that you were making his stomach churn – thrive him? i bet it does. because he can not concentrate, his eyes fixed on you, nodding mindlessly to whatever you're planning to make tonight (it doesn't matter because he will swallow it whole) then find the lamest excuses to kiss you, your hair, your face to satisfy his most intrusive demands. you are the biggest treasure that he has ever prevailed, he noted. you were trusting him entirely, giving unconditional love, staying by his side. how can he possibly live without you? you're driving him nuts!

and when aventurine's tongue touched the first bite of anything you made, sweets or savouries, he imagined filling his stomach full with your unyielding love, the one that undoubtedly never failed to remind him that he was yours truly to be cherished, to be taken care of. undeserving of you? yes, inevitably, or maybe that was just his thoughts; so aventurine found himself savouring every moment with you in the kitchen, invading your attempts to cook and stealing kisses, he knew he was going to dedicate the rest of his life to the person he intended to marry and to love you harder than you do to him.

aventurine never dares to dream about a family with you, he couldn't bring himself to crave it when the past of failing to protect his own in sigonia haunted him like some sort of ghost, everything feels illegal. the thoughts exiled the golden boy in prison of indecision and despair,... and then he stumbles upon the last words leaving his mouth when you mention wanting a betrothal life with him. he didn't feel ready yet – he'd fail you, (at first!), and it was disheartening. you said you understood and were there with him the entire time, but aventurine knew he was the problem, not you.

aventurine wanted to confide in you that he would be lying if he said his eyes weren't tearing up at the sight of you waiting patiently until he is ready, until he surpassed all of his trauma and reached his final decision. he knew he never deserved you, no matter how hard you'd been trying to make him feel like he did, he would then die for you, gambled all of his existence over again just to lose it all to your overpower love.

aventurine was a coward, he claimed. he couldn't bring his messed up life that once considered so insignificant that it was traded as some goods up for auction, and a chip he brought to bet in his high stakes with treacherous risks to dedicate to you, it was unfair for you, he couldn't be selfish. it was excruciating that he couldn't refrain himself from basking in your unconditional love, even if, to him, it was forbidden.

and when he had you pressed against the wall, aventurine lifted your chin up and kissed you fiercely with the best of gratitude and love, mostly to shut you up and to soothe his aching heart when he heard you repeat that you understood with that agonizing voice once again, aventurine said he was sorry, that he would do better and sort this out quickly to make everything up to you properly. it pained him to see you wait so voluntarily for him, he was trapped with hesitation, between letting himself love you with his entirely heart and the thought that you'd definitely deserve someone better than him?

but when on a beautiful friday, aventurine's heart burned selfishly with the swelling sight of you, wearing an apron so breathtakingly, humming to your favourite song on the phone sat beside the counter, the delicious aroma you're stirring filled his senses, his breath hitched, it felt like as if you had already been his spouse, cooking dinner, waiting for their husband to be home, and to his utmost selfish thought that spoke louder than all of his logical minds, just, what if... someday you got tired and gave up on him? would he be able to see you looking like this ever again?

"Kakavasha..."

he opened his eyes, the real name of his that you let slip so easily from your soft lips felt like a salvation; he hummed in response, gently holding your hand on his face as you looked down at the sleepy man on your lap. aventurine caressed the shiny cold material with a small exclusive gem he selected himself attatched on top of it that wrapped perfectly around your ring finger, contentment was written all across his face. ah, yes... he has been sleeping in his spouse's lap, no?

"can you please get up? it's almost past lunch and we haven't had anything properly," you sigh, the chuckle you let out helplessly.

aventurine stirred slightly before lazily sitting up, scooting closer and snaking his arms around you, holding you snuggled against him while he buried his face in your hair, sinking entirely in your presence.

"mhm... sit still. just a little longer. lunch can wait, i'll swallow them whole everything you make, anyway."

So if, once again, your husband dozed off on your lap on a calming sunday morning, make sure to do something with it. if not, please be prepared and stay strong with a clear mind or you'd end up getting charmed by his antics which he knew so well that it touched right in the soft spot for only him in you. (or you might as well pay him back with your own cooking technique, one of the reasons he married you home and loved you so good...)

© 2024 https-sourlimes. all rights reserved. (banner source: aventurine's eidolons 5 from official honkai: star rai art)

ending notes: *sigh* this man is making me feeling things. ❤️‍🩹 and tagging @synqiri because this cutie asked to be here <33

[lyraoftheevergreens]

The Realms Enchantress

Chapter 2

NSFW, minors do not engage

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader!Niece, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Female!OC,

Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.

Warnings: Targaryen Inscest, mentions of sex, oral female and male receiving, talk of nudity, mentions of death and blood, mother murdered, dead babies, depression, periods, vulgar language.

Authors Note: Welp, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I might as well tell you. I’m a complete whore for Daemon and that truly shows through this. I hope you all enjoy my slutty little works.

This is edited to a degree, I apologize for any errors in advanced. I tried my best.

Word Count: 5,542; sorry, got a little carried away

Tag List: Open

Chapter 1

2 years and some moons went by after y/n’s name day now 8 and 10 years of age a tourney is called in celebration of the babe in her mother’s womb. Celebration of the kings heir that has yet to been born. Your father swears it will be a boy. So hopeful that he is celebrating his arrival before your mother’s labors have even begun.

Your father gives his thanks and speech to commence the start of the tourney and alerts the people that your mother’s labors have begun. You sat with your family in the viewing area next to Rhaenyra and Alicent when Daemon approaches the viewing box, “Princess’ lady Hightower. Here to watch me win?” He said with his usual smug expression.

“We will see how true your words remain.” Y/n speaks first.

“You shall see then.”

He goes on to pick his opponent, Gwayne Hightower, Alicents older brother. She becomes visibly nervous when Daemon picks him. It is when Daemon un horses him that you think she is going to burst out crying in fear for her brother. Daemon then makes his way back to you,” Lady Alicent, I am all but certain I can win these games but having your favor shall ensure it.” He says to her holding out his jousting stick. You and Rhaenyra were in shock, you hurt more so. Every tourney he asked for your favor now he ask for hers. When you took your seat you noticed the maester approaching your father. You sat the tourney for as long as you could but once the murder began you decided to take your leave. You went to snack tables and grabbed an apple where you were met with your uncle. “You’re leaving my tourney?” He spoke first.

“No, taking a break from the murder. Besides it’s not your tourney, it’s for the babe in my mother’s womb.”

“Unless that babe is born with a cock, I remain heir. Besides, It’s not murder when it’s in the name of the tourney.”

“My apologies, I refuse to watch.”

“Well I hope you return to watch your favorite uncle once more.”

“Perhaps I will.” With that you went your separate ways. Your uncle to the tourney field and you to the viewing. A few moments go past, your uncle is unhorsed and on the floor, “PRINCE DAEMON TARGARYEN WISHES TO CONTINUE IN A CONTEST OF ARMS.” Shouts the announcer. It’s then that you take your leave not wishing to see what happens next.

You made your way to the red keep and once in the halls of the keep all that could be heard were your mother’s screams, you made your way to the room this was coming from. The guards stood at the door would not let you in. You pleaded with them,” please, I wish to comfort my mother through her labors as I have done so through the previous ones.” Unbeknownst to the guards this birth would not be like the previous ones.

Once you entered through the large heavy wooden door your mother’s screams flooded your ears, your father and the hand maids holding your mother down like cattle, the maesters hands inside her womb. Blood everywhere. You stood there in silent shock. It wasn’t until one of the hand maidens alerted your father of your presence that you felt hands grab at your arms and pull you from the room. Your brain unable to process your father yelling at you to leave and for the guards to remove you from the room. “Remove your hands from her!” Yelled Ser Errol, he took you from the guards that had dragged you out the room, you looked up at him with tears streaming from your eyes. He could feel how limp you were. He carried you to your chambers and sat you on your bed. It was then your uncle came in,” You left. I suppose it’s fine due the fact I turned my back on my opponent and lost.” He said with an annoyed tone in his voice. He still wore his armor, he placed his helmet on your clothing chest. It was then that all could be heard was the shouts from the tourney. Your mother’s screams had stoped. You turned your head towards your uncle, tear stained face and shaky voice,”she is dead.”

“Who is dead?” He replied.

“My mother. He killed her.”

“Who killed her!” He shouted with his hand gripping dark sister at his side.

“My father.” Daemon let go of the sword and sat at the chair. “Tell me, what did my brother do.”

“He had the maesters cut the babe from her womb. His hands were inside her. My mother held down like cattle for slaughter. Like some birthing animal. He killed his wife. My mother! MY MOTHER!” It was the that you began yelling and crying hysterically. Daemon rose from his seat and pulled you into him. Your face on the metal on his chest. You began slamming the sides of your fist on it, beating his armored chest. He stood there and took your anger. Rhaenyra entered,” what has happened, is mother alright?” You looked up at Daemon and whispered a silent no. He understood. You walked to Rhaenyra and locked the door to your chambers. You turned to her and began to speak,” I’m so sorry Nyra, mother has passed.” Rhaenyra stood there silently and let her the shock of your words absorb into her. Daemon began to remove his armor and watched the two sisters. “She is dead.”

“Yes.” With that the tears slowly fell from her eyes. And then she broke out into a hysterical sob. You held her close to you, the two of you falling to the floor. You sat and held your sister as she sobbed into you. It was then that your uncle left. Unbeknownst to you at the time that he went in search of his brother. Eventually you and Rhaenyra made your way to the bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms. You both woke in the morning, she left to her chambers and you remained in yours, the maids helped you bathe and dress. You walked with Rhaenyra to Rhaenys is hill. Syrax atop the hill. You both stood in front of the two pyres. Not realizing how long the two of you were stood there till daemon approached Rhaenyra, “they are waiting for you.” He told her in a hushed tone.

“Nyke pendagon lo, during lī dorolvie hours issa lēkia glaesagon, ñuhon kepa finally found biarves”

(I wonder if, during those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness)

“Aōha kepa jorrāelagon ao, tolī than ziry mirre emagon. Se both hen ao”

(Your father needs you, more than he ever has. The both of you)

“Nyke jāhor dōrī sagon nykeā tresy”

(We will never be sons) with that Rhaenyra stepped forward to your father she tried to speak but her voice broke. She looked next to her at her grieving father staring upon his dead wife and son. Her mother and brother. She quickly turned her head.

“Dracarys.” With that, Syrax made his way down the hill and set the pyres aflame. Daemon held you to his chest while you both watched your mother and brother burn.

“Nyke jorrāelagon ao kepus, sir tolī than mirre.”

(I need you kepus, now more than ever)

“Nyke’m kesīr.”

(I’m here) he spoke as he held you close.

Everyone retreated to the castle once the ceremony was over. Rhaenyra to her room while you and your father thanked people for coming and encouraged them to feast. You sat with your uncle while he drank his wine. Once it was all over Daemon turned to you,” Nyke līs sir jikagon byka zaldrīzes. Se oktion urnēbagon jorrāelagon issa.” (I must now go little dragon. The city watch needs me.)

“Nyke shifang. Geron issa naejot issa chambers kostilus”

(I understand. Walk me to my chambers please)

“Hen rhinka.”

(Of course)

Daemon offered you his arm. You took it and he escorted you to your chambers. You both entered. Stood there in the center of the room. He held you against his chest. His fingers ran through your hair.

“I must go now.”

“Stay with me.”

“I have a duty to the realm. Keep the streets safe, for the kingdom. For you.”

“I understand, but selfishly I want you to stay.”

“If I could you know I would.”

“I understand. Go, leave.” With this he kissed your forehead and left. Your handmaids undressed you and you changed into your night shift and made your way to Rhaenyras chambers. You entered without knocking and climbed into bed with her. She turned and placed her head on your chest. She cried into you until she fell back asleep. You woke the next morning in Rhaenyras’ bed. You turned to face what you assumed was her but were met with your uncle asleep next to you. You put your head on his chest and he spoke. ”good morning sweet girl.”

“Morning.” You mumbled to him. “Where is Nyra.”

“She is on Syrax. I saw her earlier leaving to the dragon pit. I asked where you were and she informed me you were asleep in her bed.”

“Mmm.” You grumbled. He laid there stroking your hair as you laid with your head on his chest. “Are you going to leave the bed today.” He asked, he spoke gently, with care. “No.” You answered. Your head and body ached with grief. Your eyes burned from all the tears. He left the bed first then proceeded to rip the covers off you. You shoved your face into the pillows, “Daemon.” You grumbled. He wasn’t having any of it as he picked you up into his arms and walked out the doors of Rhaenyras’ room into the halls of the red keep. Your arms around his neck. “Where are we going?” You questioned him. “Hush, don’t worry yourself about it.”

You held onto him, hiding your face in his neck. You heard him bark orders of getting a carriage ready but you didn’t see to whom these orders were being told to. He stood holding you for longer than you thought possible but he never faltered. In time he was notified of a carriage is arrival. He took you out to the carriage and you left his arms to enter the carriage he sat next to you and you held onto his arm resting your head on his shoulder. Soon you arrived at what you realize to be the dragon pit when the driver opens the door to the carriage. Daemon exists while you remain seated.

“No.” Is all you say as he stands waiting for you to follow him.

“That beast of yours misses you.”

“He is fine, take me back to the Keep Daemon.”

“If that were true why is he causing so much trouble for the dragon keepers.”

“Because it is a false belief that we control the dragons.”

“Then go. Set him free.”

“Daemon. Please.” You were practically crying at this point as tears began to form in your eyes.

“dōnus riñītsos, come with me.”

You stayed silent as you got out from the carriage. He held out his hand to help you down when you realized you wore nothing but your night shift and to make matters worse, you were barefoot.

“ I’m not dressed. And my feet are bare.”

“Then I shall continue to carry you.” He states matter of factly. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you like a child. His hands under your bottom holding you up.

He has the dragon keepers bring out Dyrax. He held on to you as they bring out your dragon.

“Gods has he always been so huge. He’s going to be to large for the pit.” You turn your head to look at your dragon “the beast” Daemon likes to call him, he had grown so large in the year since Daemon had last seen him. Dyrax saw Daemon holding you and could probably smell the sadness that over took you. He let out an ear bleeding screech. He was ready to set the whole pit on fire at the sight of his rider in someone’s arms. You asked Daemon to put you down and he refused, walking you to Dyrax.

You put your hand to the dragons face.

“It’s okay my love, Nyke’m okay issa jorrāelagon, nyke’m ȳgha. Ziry’s lentor.”

(I’m okay my love, I’m safe. He’s family)

“Put your hand on him.” You tell Daemon and he does, with one arm holding you to him and the other on the dragon.

“Aōha olvie nykeā magnificent dyni, nyke kostagon ūndegon skoro syt issa niece iksos sīr attached naejot ao.” (You’re quite a magnificent beast, I can see why my niece is so attached to you) Daemon says to the dragon. “Go on, climb in to the saddle.” He tells you and you wrap your arms and legs around him tighter. “No, I refuse. Take me back to bed.” You tell him. “Fine. Hold on tight.” He says and then begins to start his climb up Dyrax. “Daemon! I’ll climb.” You shout, letting go of him and begin to get into the saddle.

“Where are we even going?” You ask. As he begins to take his seat infront of you

“Dragonstone.”

“No. I won’t be able to stay awake for that long of a flight, I’m not well. I just want to sleep please take me back to the castle.”

“I’m taking you to a castle. You’ll be fine.” He says and then shouts to the dragon keepers, “Tepagon issa se fabric ties.” (Give me the fabric ties) they toss it up to him and he catches it.

“I am not an infant.” You speak sternly.

“Then why must you act like one.” He remarks beginning to tie you to him. “If you fall asleep while you are tied to me then I won’t have to worry about you falling to your death, if you die your father will have my head if this beast we are on doesn’t kill me first.”

“Fine.” You say helping him tie you to him.

“Sōvegon Dyrax. Obey issa.” (Fly Dyrax. Obey me.) Daemon spoke to him, but yet your stubborn beast refused to move.

“Rȳbagon naejot zirȳla. Gūrogon īlva naejot zaldrīzes dōron Dyrax.” You told the dragon. And with that he let out a screech and started his accent to the sky.

(Listen to him. Take us to Dragonstone Dyrax)

“Stubborn bastard.” Daemon mumbled making you laugh. You kept your arms wrapped around Daemon and rested your head on his back under his shoulder.

“Why Dragonstone?” You asked him.

“Why no? You are Princess of Dragonstone after all.”

“Nyra needs me.”

“She has the Hightower girl and Syrax, she will be fine.”

“What if it is I who needs her.”

“You have me.”

“For how long?”

“We will see zaldrītsos, I can promise you four days. Possibly more.”

(Little dragon)

“And your precious gold cloakes?”

“I’ve put Ser Harwin in charge while I attend to you.”

“Does anyone know I’ve left with you? Nyra, Ser Errol, my father?”

“I informed Rhaenyra of my plans when I saw her leave her room. Ser Errol is aware and as for your father do you believe he would let me have you to myself?”

“No. Besides he doesn’t leave his chambers so I suppose he wouldn’t notice my absence.” The two of you talked for sometime then eventually you drifted to sleep. After a long nap you woke to the sound of Daemon yelling commands to Dyrax.

“Tegon Dyrax. Naejot se ripo. Listen you stubborn bastard. Jikagon naejot se ripo.” (Land Dyrax. To the pit. Listen you stubborn bastard. Go to the pit.)

“Rybās Dyrax.” You spoke up. (Obey Dyrax.) with that he started to descend to the pit.

“He was almost listening to me.” Daemon mumbled. You kissed his cheek,” oh yes, very close.” You laughed. Once landed the dragon keepers of the island took Dyrax.

“Ziry jorrāelagon naejot ipradagon.” Daemon told the keepers to feed Dyrax, that he had a long flight, as he climbed down the dragon with you still tied on his back.

“Daemon, are you going to untie me.”

“No, I quite enjoy you back here.” He said holding your legs that are wrapped around his waist. The hour was late you noticed as the sun had set.

“What is the hour?” You asked as he walked to the doors of the castle.

“Hour of the eel I believe.”

“Oh quite late. Daemon, if I’m going to tire again I should walk.

“Okay but hold on.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he begins to untie you. Once untied from him you begin to fall to the floor. With an uumph from your lips.

“Thank you. Do you suppose the water is warm?”

“It’s too late to go in, I’ll take you on the morrow.”

“Fine. Your age is getting to you uncle Daemon.” You jest with him.

“Tis not.”

“Tis is.” You say walking away from him.

“Could an old man do this!” He shouts and begins to run towards you. You laugh as he chases you on the sand. He’s much faster than you are and eventually catches you. You scream and laugh, the two of you falling to the sandy floor. “Are you alright?” You ask him in between fits of laughter. “I’m just fine.” He lays there laughing and catching his breath. You sit up and smile down at him.

“I always forget how much I love it here. No politics, no ‘duty to the realm,’ it’s quite lovely. The dark sea.”

“Would you leave Kings Landing? Leave Rhaenyra?”

“Rhaenyra would come with me. But yes, I would.” You said and laid down next to him. Your head on his shoulder. You both laid there looking up at the stars.

“Qēlos.” You whispered. (Star)

“What’s the matter?” Daemon questioned.

“I wish there was a nicer word for star, the Valyrian word for star wouldn’t make a very nice name.”

“A name for whom? A dragon? It’s would fit a dragon quite nicely.”

“No. A girl. A babe. Mine, eventually. Hopefully.”

“I’m sure you will think of something beautiful.”

“I suppose so.”

“You still wish to have children after what you witnessed with your mother?”

“I watched my mother have still born babes and yet I still want many children, a husband who loves me. Our many children will be evidence of the love we have for another. My father let her die. If I wed the proper man, he won’t allow me to die.”

“I wouldn’t let you die.” Daemon whispers to you.

“You’re married.”

“My bronze bitch. Our marriage is unconsummated, it can be annulled.” He said.

You stayed quite laid in the sand when someone came walking down with a torch. Maester Gerold.

“Your graces, I was notified of your arrival. All is well?”

“All is well as can be.” Answered Daemon as he got up, helping you to your feet next.

“You’re in your night clothes princess?” The maester questioned.

“Oh yes. I apologize for my appearance.”

“Not necessary princess. If you will follow me, we have prepared your rooms. Do you wish to bathe?”

“The princess does, prepare it in her chambers.” Daemon ordered the maester as the three of you walked to the castles doors. Once inside the Maester ordered a bath to be prepared for you in your chambers. Dameon then ordered the maids to move his belongings to your chambers.

“I brought you here so it seems only right I keep you company.”

“Very well then.”

You sat on the bed and watched as the bath was prepared and Daemons belongings were brought to the room. The handmaidens stood to the side waiting for you to undress and enter the bath so they could bathe you. When Daemon spoke up and ordered them to leave.

“She can bathe herself.” He barked at them. They all hurried out of the room. “Good. Even better I don’t have that bleeding Ser Errol around either.”

“You don’t like him?”

“No. He treats me as though I’m to steal your virtue.”

“Are you not?” You questioned him.

“Only if you wish me too.”

“That’s alright. I will inform you when the moment arrives.” You say and drop your night shift off your shoulders and it puddles to the ground at your feet. No small clothes underneath. You stand there naked infront of him.

“No small clothes? Very naughty princess.”

You turn and walk away from him and get into the bath. Enjoying the hot water relax your tired body. As you rest in the basin eyes closed Daemon comes and sits next to you on the floor, with the back of a single finger he caresses your cheek. “Gevīe.” He whispers.

You knew you were beautiful, you were named the realms enchantress for a reason. Your beauty paralyses men and women. You could start wars with the look of an eye. Yet when Daemon called you beautiful with a look of want in his eyes you were ready to leap from the bath onto him.

He then glides his finger down from your cheek, to your neck to a single breast stoping right above the bud of your breast. You look into his eyes with yours. He removes his hand and retrieves the sponge and begins to bathe you. He wets your hair and cleans your body. His arm going under the water to wash between your legs. You close your eyes and hold back a moan. It took every ounce of strength for him not to take you out of the bath and have his way with you. But he kept his restraint. Finished bathing you and helped you out. Gave you your robe and had you sit on the chair infront of the mirror and brushed your hair. It was then you began to cry.

“Did I hurt you rinitsos?” He said looking at your face from the mirror. You looked up at his face and managed to get out a no in between your soft cries. You stood and looked up at him, “take me to bed.” You whispered as tears flowed down your cheeks. He lifted you and took you to bed, the blankets already pulled back. He lays you down and tries to get in next to you but you stop him.

“No. Undress. I’m bare, it’s only fair you are too.”

“You wear a robe.” With that you stood and untied it and let it fall to the floor.

“I’m not now.” You said getting back into bed. With that he began to undo the buckles of his doublet, removing his boots and breaches. Last his small clothes and tunic. He stood there naked before you. His member hanging there yet still quite large. It didn’t matter to you as you kept eye contact with his face. You patted the empty side of the bed as a gesture for him to join you. He entered the bed and pulled you into him.

“My mother will never brush my hair again.”

“I’m sorry my sweet girl.”

“What age were you when your mother passed?”

“4. I don’t remember her much unfortunately.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-.”

“It’s alright, don’t fret.” He interrupted the start of a ramble. He stroked your wet hair and eventually tracing his fingers up and down your spine. You looked up at him and he felt your movement and looked down at you. Your hand moved up his chest to his cheek. Leaving your hand gently there you spoke, “Daemon, kiss me.” He laid there silently staring at you. Your hand moved into his hair. “Please.” That one little please was all it took and he was on his side pressing his lips to yours. You followed his movements and when his tongue entered your mouth you weren’t sure what to do so you allowed him to lead the kiss, you laid there having never been kissed but the need for Daemon was to strong to ignore. After a while you pulled away to breathe and just stared into his eyes. Nothing but the candles illuminating the room.

His hand moved to the back of your head and pulled you into him, his lips connecting with yours. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him. You could feel his hard length under you as you hovered your hips over him. You pulled away to speak. “Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt my sweet girl.” “Your.” You spoke, a blush coming to your cheeks as you pointed down. “Your uhm.” “My cock, no.” Your blushing ferociously now. He glides a finger over your wet center and over your pearl, a soft moan escapes your lips. “Does that hurt you?” He ask.

“No, it feels good.”

“As do I.” With that he flips you both over so he is on top. His cock between your folds rubbing over your pearl. Your head falls back as you moan. He puts a head over your mouth.

“Shh, you don’t want the servants reporting back to your father.” You pull his hand from your mouth.

“Perhaps I do.”

“As you pointed out earlier I am married zaldritsos.”

“Uhg, don’t speak of her.”

“My bronzed bitch.” He leans down bring his lips to your ear. “I spoke the truth to you earlier. I’ve never laid with her, not how I am with you right now.”

“She’s truly never had you?”

“No.” He continues to thrust his cock between your folds never entering you. His lips connect with yours. Your tongues dance. You lay there in absolute bliss. After a long time he gets off of you and begins to fist his cock, you lay there and watch for a moment. The act so arousing. You get up behind him and placed your hand over his. He turns his head to look at you.

“Can I?” You speak up.

“No darling, lay down. I’ll be done soon.”

“I want to. I want to make you feel good.” You whisper hesitantly.

“These are whores tricks, you are my sweet girl. Not some whore.” He says. You begin to kiss down his neck.

“Please. Teach me.” That was all it took and he gave into you.

“Okay.” He released his hand and placed yours on his hard length. So much bigger than when you had seen it earlier. His hand covered yours as he had you pump him.

“Get on your knees infront of me.” You did as he said climb off the bed and getting on your knees for him.

“Use both your hands.” You did as he said, “oh yes. Good girl. Now lick the head.” You lick it once.

“No sweet girl. Keep licking, keep moving your tongue over it.” You did as he said pumping his length in your hands and giving the head the attention it craved. Daemon sat with his head back breathing heavy.

“You wanna swallow my seed? Hmm?” He asked you.

You let out a, “mhmm” with your lips.

“Okay, give me your hand.” You did as he said, he put two of your fingers in his mouth and began to suck up and down on them. You began to grow wetter.

“You’re going to do that on my cock. It’s okay not all fits your mouth, you can still use your hands.” You did as he said and released one of your hands and began to suck up and down on his length. “Breathe through your nose darling. Thats it. Good girl. My good girl.” You kept going and quickened your pace.

“It’s here sweet girl, get ready to swallow all of it okay.” He spoke in between his heavy breathing. You kept up your movements and eventually your mouth filled with a warm liquid. Some of it began to come out the sides of your mouth “try and swallow it, try.” And you did, you tried but it was all so overwhelming you removed your mouth from him and his seed went on to your face. The sight of his seed on your face made him release a bit more. He used his thumb to wipe off some of it and bringing it to your mouth. You swallowed what was on his fingers. He got up and grabbed a towel the maids had left behind. Cleaning your face first and then his cock. You both climbed into bed you laid there head on his chest. Your eyes widened and you sat up. “Am I with child?”

“Why do you think that sweet girl?”

“Your seed is my stomach. Babes grow in the stomach.”

“No, they grow in the womb.”

“The womb is in the belly.”

“Did your mother not tell you how she came to be with child all those times?”

“No.” You blushed and were about to cry, you had so much to learn and no mother to teach it. Daemon brushed away a small tear.

“It’s okay, I’ll teach you.”

“How babes are made?”

“You have your monthly bleeds correct? You’ve seen your mother push out babes?”

“Yes I bleed, but when my mother begins her labors I’m always by her head.”

“You bleed from your cunt. When a man inserts his cock inside you, and releases his seed in there you will grow a babe in your womb.”

“Oh. I understand. So, the marital act?”

“Yes?”

“Is it that?”

“Yes it is.”

“Does it hurt?”

“At first, but fucking can be a pleasure. Like how you brought me pleasure with your hands and mouth.”

“I understand.”

“Let’s sleep, we can discuss this further after sunrise.” You laid with your head on his chest tucked into his side. You couldn’t fight the needy feeling you felt between your legs. How wet you were. You tried to sleep but it was impossible. You looked up at Daemon who was sound asleep. Lips parted as he gently breathed. The sight of him so relaxed didn’t help what was between your legs.

“Daemon wake up.” You shook him awake.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled.

“I can’t sleep.” You remarked.

“Such a shame. It’s quite nice.” He responds his eyes still closed.

“I feel funny.” You tell him.

“Funny how? We’ve slept in the same bed plenty of times. Oh no, I knew I shouldn’t have let you-“

“Im still wet from earlier.” You cut him off.

“Oh?” He opens one eye and looks at you.

“You need kepus to help you?” He remarks.

“Yes.”

“Let me think. I can’t take your maiden head.”

“Why not?”

“Because rinitsos, If you marry a cruel lord and you do not bleed for him on your wedding night, he may hurt you. I can’t have anyone hurting you. I think I know what might work.” He says filling the blankets of your bodies. “Open your legs.” He demands. He lowers himself. Eye level with your cunt. “7 hells you are wet. My poor girl, I was gonna make you go to sleep with all this between your legs. Not a very good Kepus of me.”

“Nope, bad Kepus.” He gives swift smack to your core at your remark. You gasp.

“Don’t start being bad, bad girls don’t get what I’m about to do for you.”

“I’ll be good.” You beg. With that he flattens his tongue lapping you up. His tongue goes between your folds and over your pearl. You’re a moaning mess already and he doesn’t bother to cover your mouth or give you something to cover your own mouth with. He loves hearing how free you are with him. The pleasure he’s bringing you. His tongue goes in and out of your cunt and his thumb rubs circles on your pearl.

“Please, please.” Your beg him. “Don’t stop.” You choke out. With that he shoves his tongue as deep as he can. Your cunt so tight he can feel it squeezing his tongue. He’s hard again imagining how it would feel around his cock. He’s now flicking and sucking your pearl with his mouth and using his smallest finger inside you. You’re a moaning mess for him. He can tell your about to peak by your cunt fluttering around his finger.

“I. I. Daemon-“ You’re cut off by your own release as you peak on his finger and tongue. Your shouting moaning mess as he devours every last drop and wipes his face on a fresh towel. He licks his fingers clean and uses a towel to wipe his hands.

“We are absolutely not returning to Kings landing now that I know you taste like that.”

“I taste good?” You asked.

“Absolutely. I’m addicted to it I’m afraid.” With that he pulls you in for a kiss and you can taste your self on his tongue. You pull away, “mmmm, I do taste good.” He gives a swift swat to your bottom. “Naughty girl. Only good girls get my tongue.” He smirks at you.

“I’ll be good. Your sweet girl.” The two of you go back to kissing and eventually fall asleep in each others arms.

Chapter 3

[mypoisonedvine]

Drabble Idea: Judge Crane decides to give his obsession a third option. Death, exile, or…….

You know he would use his position in order to get his crush all to himself while Gotham burns.

YES OMG SOME LOVE FOR JUDGE CRANE he's so underrated and I actually lost it when I saw the movies in theaters and he popped up <3 like omg look it's my husband

warnings: coercion, ownership, threats of noncon, yandere vibes

"You can't be serious," you mumbled, but you knew he was-- Dr. Crane wasn't an especially humorous guy, that whole death by exile bit from earlier notwithstanding.

He still smiled at you, though; "It's your choice."

"Well, it's not much of a choice, is it?" you scoffed.

"It's a better choice than anybody else got," Jonathan shrugged, "if you do choose exile, I'm sure these guys would love to give you a nice send-off-- right, boys?"

You didn't even have the heart to look back at the thugs who had dragged you in here, but you heard them chuckling and mumbling amongst themselves. Crane had made his message clear, and you let out a sigh of defeat. "Fine," you said.

"Fine?" he repeated. "What's that mean, you'll just die?"

"No, I--"

"You know, you said once you'd rather die than marry me, do you remember that?" He laughed. But that was years ago, when your father tried to set you up with him because he was a respected doctor and you were a nice young socialite-- it was more about rebellion than anything else then, but learning about his insanity and criminal activities wasn't exactly changing your mind.

"I was wrong," you admitted, "alright? I'm sorry."

He smiled again, a little more sinister than the last time. "Then you can wait for me with the others... sweetheart."

~

The huddled mass of the 'arrested' dwindled through the day, executives and politicians dragged up the stairs to meet their fate as determined by Crane; soon it was only half or less left behind, with you simply counting the minutes until you'd be taken-- you couldn't imagine what life would be like with Jonathan, and for now, you tried not to.

He came for you at the end of the day, standing above you and smiling down as you stayed sitting on the ground, leaning against a pillar and waiting for whatever he asked you to do. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say," he admitted as he stared at you. "Hi honey, I'm home or something?"

"You don't actually sleep here, do you?" you frowned.

"No, no-- I believe in work-life balance," he shook his head; then reached his hand out to help you up. "Come on, let's go home."

Though you hesitated, you took his hand and let him help you to your feet with a wince.

"Are you alright?" he asked, seeing the pain on your face.

"They kinda roughed me up," you admitted quietly, though your breath caught when Jonathan pulled you closer.

"Poor thing," he mumbled, petting your cheek briefly, holding your waist a little tighter. "And having to sit on this hard floor all day-- you must be sore, hm?"

You nodded slightly, though you felt strange talking to him like this-- like it was a normal conversation, and not something you had to do to keep yourself safe. If being with him could really be considered 'safe'...

"I can write you a script if you're in too much pain," he offered, "but I think you just need some rest: somewhere warm, a nice big bed..."

He leaned in closer as he trailed off, taking a deep breath beside your head as he rubbed your back. Though he must have noticed the way you tensed up and nearly pulled away, it didn't deter him.

"I'll be good to you," he promised, "if you just behave. You don't need to be so afraid of me."

But you could hear the excitement in his voice; he liked that you were afraid of him. Finally, he had the power over you that you'd denied him all those years ago. No matter how sweet he promised to be, one way or another, he was going to make you pay for that.

[dandelions-143]

Exile

Changbin Masterlist

All member Masterlist

AN: Sorry I’ve been MIA! I’ve had horrible writers block. Also sorry if this isn’t up to my usual standards. I’m slowly clawing my way out of this damned block. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing:Non-idol,bad boy Changbinxidol/Celebrity Y/n

Word Count: 3,250k

Warnings: this one’s pretty tame (for now) MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Emotional manipulation, Heartbreak and relationship struggles, Implied violence, Alcohol consumption (setting in a bar), Unwanted advances/harassment, Mild physical violence, Intense emotions and confrontations, References to criminal activities

Summary: Y/n decided to end things with Changbin years ago to pursue her dreams. But what happens when she comes face to face with the man she left behind but could never forget?

You sat on the worn wooden steps of your childhood home's front porch, the familiar creaks beneath you a comforting reminder of countless summers past. The warm evening air caressed your skin, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from your mother's garden. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it painted the sky in a breathtaking array of colors - deep oranges melting into soft pinks and vibrant purples. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, savoring this moment of tranquility.

The peaceful scene was suddenly shattered by the distant roar of a motorcycle engine, growing louder with each passing second. Your eyes flew open, heart already beginning to race as you recognized the familiar sound. The old black Harley-Davidson - the very one you'd clung to Changbin on during countless midnight rides - came into view, its chrome accents glinting in the fading light.

Changbin smoothly brought the bike to a stop just a few feet away, the engine's rumble fading to a low purr before he cut it off completely. With practiced ease, he swung his leg over the seat and removed his helmet. Your breath caught in your throat as he shook out his dark hair, mussed from the ride. His eyes, deep and intense, found yours immediately. A smirk played on his lips as he approached, and you couldn't help but notice how his leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders, how his faded jeans clung to his muscular thighs.

"Hey, you," Changbin said, his voice warm and rich like honey. He reached for your hands, pulling you up from the steps and into his strong arms. The familiar scent of his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him - enveloped you. Your heart raced, squeezing tightly in your chest as he leaned in for a kiss. Despite every fiber of your being screaming to give in, to melt into his warm embrace, you turned your head at the last second, his lips grazing your cheek instead.

Confusion flickered across Changbin's handsome features as he pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your arms. "What's wrong, Y/n?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, knowing that if you did, your resolve might crumble entirely. Instead, you focused on a point just past his shoulder, swallowing hard against the lump forming in your throat.

"I'm leaving," you said quietly, the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "The company I auditioned for... they called. They want me as a trainee." You risked a glance at Changbin's face, watching as understanding dawned in his dark eyes. He knew how much this meant to you, how long you'd dreamed of becoming a singer. You'd spent countless nights talking about your aspirations, Changbin always your most ardent supporter.

For a moment, Changbin was silent, his eyes searching your face. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, processing this new information. Then, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, his expression softened into that easy smile you loved so much. "You got it?!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement. "Y/n, that's incredible!"

Unable to contain your own smile despite the heaviness in your heart, you nodded. Changbin pulled you into a tight hug, his strong arms enveloping you completely. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent as he whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Y/n. I always knew you could do it."

"Thank you," you murmured softly, your lips brushing against the warm skin of his neck. The moment was bittersweet, joy and sorrow intertwining in your chest. When Changbin moved to kiss you again, swept up in the excitement, you reluctantly stepped back. The hurt and confusion that flashed across his face made your heart ache.

"What's going on, Y/n?" Changbin asked, his voice soft but laced with growing concern. "Talk to me." You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you knew you had to say, even though they threatened to tear you apart.

"I think... I think it's best if we take a break, Changbin," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers unconsciously went to the promise ring on your left hand - the one he'd given you on your 16th birthday. The metal felt cold against your skin as you twisted it nervously. "Just for a while..."

Changbin's face fell, the joy from moments ago replaced by a look of utter devastation. "A break?" he repeated, as if saying the words aloud might change their meaning. "Y/n, we've been best friends since we were kids. We've been together for years. I don't understand..."

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you struggled to explain. "I can't ask you to wait for me, Changbin. To put your life on hold while I'm off chasing my dreams. It's not fair to either of us." Your voice cracked on the last word, betraying the emotions you were desperately trying to keep in check.

The silence that followed was deafening. You watched as Changbin's jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with a storm of emotions - hurt, anger, confusion, and something that looked dangerously close to heartbreak. The tension between you grew thick, suffocating, as you waited for him to say something, anything.

Finally, Changbin spoke, his voice low and strained. "Is this really what you want?" His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of pain and resignation evident in their depths. You felt your resolve wavering under the intensity of his gaze, but you knew you had to stay strong - for both your sakes.

"No," you admitted, shaking your head. "It's not what I want at all. But sometimes... sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. For the greater good." The words sounded hollow even to your own ears, but you pressed on. "We both need to focus on our dreams right now, Changbin. Without distractions."

Changbin's head dropped, his gaze fixed on the ground between you. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "What if my dream is you?" The raw vulnerability in his words made your heart clench painfully. You reached out, gently lifting his chin so his eyes met yours once more.

"Changbin, I..." you started, but the words caught in your throat as you saw the depth of emotion in his gaze. How could you explain that your dreams had always included him, that the thought of a future without him by your side felt incomplete? But you also knew that this opportunity was one you couldn't pass up, even if it meant sacrificing what you held most dear.

He took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. The tenderness of the gesture nearly broke you. "Please," Changbin said, his voice rough with emotion. "You know I don't beg, Y/n, but I love you so much. We can make this work. Long-distance, whatever it takes. I'll wait for you, I'll-“

The intensity of his words, the depth of his love, stirred something within you - a mixture of longing and frustration. You pulled your hand away, taking a step back to create some distance between you. "Changbin, please," you said, your voice cracking. "Please don't make this harder than it already is. We both know long-distance relationships rarely work, especially with the demands of being a trainee. I can't ask you to put your life on hold for me."

Changbin ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up in that way that always made him look irresistibly handsome. His face was a canvas of conflicting emotions - hurt, anger, and love all warring for dominance. He took a step towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. The air between you crackled with tension, a potent mixture of longing and the painful reality of your impending separation.

"But this isn't what you want," Changbin argued, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "You just said-"

"Changbin!" You cut him off, your own emotions finally bubbling to the surface. "I want you, but I want my dream more!" The words left your mouth before you could fully consider their impact, hanging in the air like a physical blow.

You watched as Changbin's expression hardened, his loving gaze turning cold as your words hit him. He stood there for a long moment, just watching you, his face becoming an unreadable mask. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and controlled, but you could hear the hurt and anger simmering beneath the surface.

"I hope your dream ends up being exactly what you wanted, Y/n," he said, each word carefully measured. His jaw clenched, and you could see the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. Without another word, Changbin turned on his heel, striding back to his motorcycle with purposeful steps.

The roar of the engine starting up felt like a physical blow. You wanted to call out to him, to take back your words and beg him to stay. But you remained rooted to the spot, watching as Changbin sped away, leaving you alone on the porch with nothing but the fading sound of his motorcycle and the weight of your words.

As his silhouette disappeared into the distance, the finality of the moment crashed over you. Tears that you had been holding back finally spilled over, running hot down your cheeks. You sank back onto the porch steps, your body shaking with silent sobs as the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. The promise ring on your finger felt impossibly heavy, a constant reminder of the love you were leaving behind in pursuit of your dreams.

🥀

SEVEN YEARS LATER

The neon lights of Seoul's bustling streets reflected off the gleaming chrome of Changbin's motorcycle as he weaved through the late-night traffic. The cool night air whipped against his face, a stark contrast to the heat of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had a job to do, a task given to him by Chan's father - to teach a lesson to someone who had dared to cross their organization.

Changbin's mind raced as he navigated the city, his thoughts a mix of anticipation for the job ahead and memories of how he'd ended up in this life. The years since you'd left had hardened him, transforming the once carefree teenager into a man accustomed to violence and danger. Being the muscle for Chan's father's organization had become second nature to him, each job a reminder of the path he'd chosen after his heart was broken.

As he approached the upscale hotel, its towering structure a beacon of luxury in the night, Changbin's expression settled into one of grim determination. He parked his motorcycle in a secluded corner of the lot, his eyes scanning the area with the practiced vigilance of someone who lived on the edge of the law. The weight of his leather jacket, a second skin after all these years, felt comforting as he adjusted it and ran a hand through his hair, mentally preparing for what lay ahead.

The hotel's opulent lobby was a stark contrast to the gritty world Changbin now inhabited. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over marble floors, and the air was heavy with the scent of expensive perfumes and polished wood. He moved with purpose, his presence drawing curious glances from the well-heeled patrons, unaware of the storm that was about to break in their midst.

The bar, tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the lower level, was Changbin's destination. The muted sounds of clinking glasses and hushed conversations grew louder as he descended the stairs. His eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the room, quickly identifying his target - a man whose hands were wandering too freely over an clearly uncomfortable young woman at the bar.

Changbin's jaw clenched, a mix of disgust at the man's behavior and a flicker of something else - a memory of a time when he would have defended you with the same fierce protectiveness. He strode forward, his presence commanding attention even before he reached the pair. Without hesitation, he gripped the back of the man's neck, his voice low and dangerous as he growled, "I believe she's not interested."

The man's eyes widened in recognition and fear, realizing too late the gravity of his situation. "Hey man," he stammered, hands raised in a futile gesture of innocence, "I just wanted to talk to her, I'm a huge fan of Y/n's."

At the mention of your name, Changbin's world tilted on its axis. His head snapped to the right, eyes locking with yours, and for a moment, time stood still. The years melted away, and he was once again the boy who had loved you with every fiber of his being. Recognition dawned on both your faces, a maelstrom of emotions - surprise, nostalgia, and unresolved feelings - crackling in the air between you.

The moment was shattered as quickly as it had formed. Changbin's anger, fueled by the shock of seeing you and the audacity of the man who had dared to touch you, surged back with renewed intensity. His grip on the man's neck tightened, eyes blazing with a fury that made even hardened criminals cower. "Wait, wait!" the man begged, his voice rising in panic, "Tell the boss I'm sorry, yeah?! I'll have his mo-"

Changbin's fist connected with the man's face before he could finish his plea, the sickening crack of bone echoing through the bar. The man crumpled to the floor, unconscious, as Changbin stood over him, chest heaving with exertion and barely contained rage. Every instinct screamed at him to continue, to unleash years of pent-up frustration and pain on this unfortunate soul, but he reined himself in, acutely aware of your presence and the line he couldn't afford to cross.

Slowly, he turned back to you, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. The years had changed him, sculpting the boy you once knew into a man of dangerous allure. His face, once soft with youth, was now chiseled and sharp, a hint of stubble adding to his rugged appeal. The lean teenager had been replaced by a man of solid muscle, his presence commanding and undeniably magnetic.

For a moment, you both stood frozen, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Changbin's intense gaze softened almost imperceptibly as he took in your appearance, noting how you'd changed yet remained achingly familiar. The silence stretched between you, filled with a potent mixture of tension and an undeniable spark of the connection you once shared.

“Changbin..” is all you could get past your lips. It’s like all the things you had ever wanted to say to him over the years just disappeared the moment you locked eyes with him. He looked as if he was going to say something but the moment was broken by the sound of security guards rushing into the bar. Changbin's eyes darted towards the entrance, his body tensing as he assessed the situation.

You instinctively stepped between Changbin and the guy lying passed out on the floor. “It took you guys long enough.” Your tone as spoiled and condescending as you could make it. “That guys assaulted me. If it wasn’t for this man here, god knows what would have happened!” you placed a soft hand on Chanbgins shoulder. The security guards looked taken aback by your sudden outburst, their eyes darting between you, Changbin, and the unconscious man on the floor. Changbin's expression remained impassive, but you could sense the tension radiating from him as he stood silently by your side. The head of security stepped forward, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation.

“Well?” You said with a bit of annoyance, “take him away!” The security guards exchanged glances before nodding and moving towards the unconscious man. As they hoisted him up and began to drag him away, you felt Changbin's muscles tense beneath your hand. You turned to face him, your heart racing as you realized the gravity of the situation you both found yourselves in.

“Uh, thanks.” Changbin mumbled before heading towards the exit. His stride were wide and rushed. You watched him leave with a mixture of longing and frustration. Your mind raced, trying to decide whether to follow him or let him go. Before you could make a decision, you felt a hand on your arm. Turning, you saw your manager, her face a mask of concern and confusion. “You okay? Let’s get you back up to your room. You have a shoot tomorrow.”

You sighed softly and turned back towards the exit, your heart racing as you caught a glimpse of Changbin's retreating figure. Without thinking, you brushed off your manager's hand and took a step forward. "I'm sorry, I need to do something," you said hurriedly, your voice barely above a whisper. Before your manager could protest, you were already moving, your feet carrying you swiftly towards the bar's entrance.

“Changbin!” You called as you tried to catch up, pushing through the double doors out into the parking lot where you saw Changbin getting onto his motorcycle. “Binnie!! Hey!” Changbin paused, his hand on the motorcycle's handlebar, and turned to face you. His expression was a mix of surprise and something unreadable as you approached, slightly out of breath. The parking lot lights cast long shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles that time had carved into his features.

"Y/n, don't call me that. You lost that privilege years ago." His words cut through the air, sharp and cold. You flinched, feeling the weight of time and unresolved emotions between you. Changbin's eyes, once so warm and full of love, now held a guarded look that made your heart ache.

It took you a moment to get the words out but you pushed through, “I know.. I just wanted to give you this.” You took a few short steps towards him. Grabbing his hand that rested on the handlebar and dug in your small bag for a pen. You wrote your number on his palm. Your fingers lingered for a moment, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you both. "I... I'd like to talk, if you're willing," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the rumble of his motorcycle. Changbin's expression remained unreadable, but you noticed a flicker of something - curiosity, perhaps, or longing - in his eyes.

“And I'll be in town for a week, doing some press and things. Text me or call sometime.. I know we have a lot to catch up on, and... I'd like to clear the air between us if possible." You paused, searching Changbin's face for any sign of receptiveness. His jaw clenched, but he didn't immediately reject the idea. Taking a deep breath, you added softly, "I've missed you. More than you know."

Changbin looked down at the number messily scrawled onto his hand and without another word he revved his bike to life. The engine roared, drowning out any response he might have given. With one last lingering glance in your direction, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions, he kicked the stand and peeled out of the parking lot. You watched his retreating form disappear into the night, the red glow of his taillights fading into the distance, leaving you alone with the weight of unspoken words and the faint hope of reconciliation.

🥀

The next day you had suffered through three boring and mundane interviews and now you were getting your make up and hair done for a Versace photo shoot. It was an honor of course but, you still felt so caged. Not to mention your mind kept drifting back to Changbin. Your thoughts swirled with memories of his intense gaze, the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, and the electricity that had sparked between you when your fingers touched. As you sat in the makeup chair, you found yourself wondering if he would call or text. The anticipation was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, making it difficult to focus on the glamorous world around you.

🥀

A few hours later the shoot had come to an end. Just as you were changing out of the gorgeous clothes you got to wear your phone buzzed. You fumbled with your bag trying to get it out as fast as you could. An unknown number popped up. You clicked on the message: You want to talk? I’ll be at the hotel around 10 to pick you up.” You automatically knew it was Changbin. Your finger hovered over the keys unsure of what to say so you just settled on: Okay, see you then.

Your manager burst into the dressing room, startling you and nearly causing you to drop your cell phone. "You did an amazing job, Y/n," she praised. "There's a party you need to attend tonight, so we've got to get going." SHe motioned for you to follow her out. As you settled into the black SUV that would take you back to your hotel, your mind raced with anticipation. You weren't just getting ready for a party—you were preparing to meet your long-lost love.

🥀

A couple of hours later, you stood in ripped jeans, a dark red lacy bralette, and your favorite baggy jean jacket. Your eyes lingered on the deep blue sequined dress you were supposed to wear to the party tonight. Your manager would be pissed... your company would be furious... but who cares? You deserved a little fun—a little adventure. Glancing at your phone, you saw it was ten minutes until Changbin's arrival. Your heart raced with anticipation.

You snatched your bag and cast a final glance in the mirror, your stomach aflutter with a cocktail of excitement and nerves. As you strode towards the door, a smile played on your lips at the thought of reuniting with Changbin. The familiar rush of defiance surged through you as you stepped into the hallway, ready to embrace whatever adventures the night held.

You took the stairwell to avoid any potential run ins with the staff or your manger. You let out a heavy sigh of relief once you were outside. The night air was warm and heavy with the sent of rain. You scanned the parking lot, your eyes searching for any sign of Changbin's motorcycle. Your heart skipped a beat when you finally spotted it, parked near the edge of the lot. As you approached, you saw him leaning against the bike, his dark silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of a streetlight.

Changbin's eyes met yours as you drew closer, his gaze intense and unreadable. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. As you reached him, he wordlessly handed you a helmet, the gesture both familiar and strange after all these years apart. “You’re not going to put it on me? Like old times?” You were only half joking but, a part of you hoped he would do it again. It’s something you had always missed.

Changbins eyebrows drew together in an annoyed scowl, "Pretty sure you can do that on your own. You're a smart girl." He said gruffly as he put his own helmet on and straddled his bike. You felt a pang of disappointment at his cold response, but quickly pushed it aside. Swallowing your pride, you slipped the helmet on and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, your arms hesitantly wrapping around Changbin's waist. The familiar warmth of his body against yours brought back a flood of memories, both sweet and painful.

As the engine roared to life, you tightened your grip instinctively, feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. Changbin kicked off, and the world around you blurred into a tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind whipped against your body, carrying with it the scent of leather and gasoline, a nostalgic reminder of countless nights spent racing through the city streets together.

His body had changed, more muscular and taut than you remembered, yet the way he leaned into the curves of the road was achingly familiar. You found yourself unconsciously matching his movements, your bodies in sync as you navigated the city streets. The contradiction of new and old, strange and familiar, sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

All too quickly his bike slowed down, coming to a stop outside what looked like a dilapidated hotel. As Changbin killed the engine, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The building loomed before you, its weathered facade a stark contrast to the sleek modernity of your hotel. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what secrets this place held and why Changbin had brought you here.

Once his bike was turned off you you both were on your feet again you could hear the faint thump of loud music coming from somewhere inside the building. "Why are we here?" You asked more curious than you should be. Changbin's lips curled into a hint of a smile, the first you'd seen all night. "You wanted to talk, didn't you? Well, this is where I do my talking." He jerked his head towards the entrance, his eyes challenging you to follow. The pulsing beat grew louder as you approached, and you felt a familiar thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension.

The place was packed with people dancing, talking as they leaned up against the walls. There were people sitting in the stairwells making out, some were snorting some kind of white substance. You smelled alcohol and weed in the air as well. The scene was a sensory overload, a pulsating mass of bodies and vices that both thrilled and unnerved you. As you followed Changbin deeper into the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. This was clearly his world now, raw and uninhibited, so different from the polished veneer of your current life.

You grabbed onto Changbins thick arm, worried you may get lost in the sea of people. “What is this place?!” You yelled over the music. “I love it!” Changbin glanced back at you, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "It's called The Underground," he shouted back, his voice barely audible over the pounding bass. "It's where people come to forget about the world outside." He led you through the writhing crowd, his hand finding yours in the chaos, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

There was a room towards the back, there was no door but a dark crimson curtain separating this room from the crowd. He held the curtain open for you and you stepped inside, your eyes adjusting to the dimmer lighting. The room was smaller, more intimate, with plush velvet couches lining the walls and a few low tables scattered about. A handful of people lounged on the sofas, engaged in hushed conversations or lost in their own worlds. Changbin guided you to an empty couch in the corner, his hand on the small of your back sending shivers up your spine.

Just as you settled down on the couch a few people came up greeting Changbin with handshakes and slaps on the back. “Who’s your friend?” A very pretty blond guy with a scattering of freckles across his face asked. His eyes dancing with curiosity as he looked down at you. “Uh, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Felix.” Changbin half heartedly introduced you to him. As Felix shook your hand his eyes grew wide with recognition. “Wait! Y/n?! The Y/n?!” Felix deep voice grew louder causing other curious eyes to look over at the commotion he was causing.

You blushed and nodded with a soft smile. "Hey Chan, Minho! Come here!" You glanced over at Changbin who was rolling his eyes and turning away. Two more guys approached, their eyes widening as they recognized you. Chan, a handsome man with curly hair, extended his hand with a warm smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Y/n. We've heard so much about you." Minho, standing beside him, nodded in agreement, his cat-like eyes sparkling with interest.

You cocked your head to the side and glanced over at Changbin again.. he talked about me? Or do they just know me from being a public figure? The question burned in your mind as you caught Changbin's eye, noticing a flicker of discomfort cross his face. Before you could dwell on it further, Felix's enthusiastic voice cut through your thoughts.

"Oh man, Changbin used to talk about you all the time! He'd go on and on about—" Felix's words were abruptly cut off as Changbin elbowed him sharply in the ribs, shooting him a warning glare. Chan seemed to notice Changbins discomfort and tugged on Felix’s shirt. “Come on, we have work to do. See you later Bin. Nice to meet you, again.” He nodded in your direction. Changbin's eyes narrowed as he watched his friends leave, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment evident on his face. As silence fell between you two, the air grew thick with unspoken words and lingering questions. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly Changbin had said about you to his friends, and why he seemed so uncomfortable about it now.

"So… you wanted to talk?" Changbins harsh eyes turned their full attention to you, his gaze intense and unwavering. You felt your heart rate quicken under his scrutiny, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through your veins. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the conversation you'd been both longing for and dreading since you first saw him again.

“I..” you began but then closed your mouth trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I know the way I ended things was unfair to you. I was young and scared, and I didn't handle it well. I've regretted it ever since." You paused, searching Changbin's face for any reaction. His expression remained unreadable, but you could see a flicker of something - pain, perhaps? - in his eyes. "I've missed you," you admitted softly, your voice barely audible over the muffled music from outside.

You didn't expect Changbin to except your apology right away but, you didn't expect the words the came out of his mouth. "You're not fucking sorry." His voice was low and harsh, laced with a bitterness that made you flinch. "You left me without a second thought, and now you think you can just waltz back into my life with a half-assed apology?" Changbin's eyes burned with an intensity that both frightened and captivated you, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass.

You tore your eyes from his, “No.. I don’t think I’ll ever see you again after tonight. I just know I needed to say that to you. And to say.. I never stopped loving you.” You kept your eyes on the ground in front of you for a while longer. Unable to look him in the eyes as you said those words. “It looks like you’re doing… well for yourself.” You finally looked up at his handsome face. “Although.. you’re very different than the boy I once knew.”

Changbin's jaw clenched at your words, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else? He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense. "You don't know anything about me anymore, Y/n. The boy you knew? He's long gone." His words hung heavy in the air between you, charged with unspoken emotions and years of unresolved feelings.

You couldn't help it.. one thing that hadn't changed between you two. Is when he pushed, you pushed back harder. "Then show me who you are now." Your eyes locked with his, a challenge burning in your gaze. Changbin's expression shifted, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. Without warning, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him. His grip was firm but not painful, his lips only a whisper from yours. “I don’t think you could handle who I am now.. I don’t fit into your perfect world, Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the tension between you palpable. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself leaning into him, drawn by the magnetic pull of his intensity. "Maybe I don't want to fit into that perfect world anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the muffled bass from the other room. Changbin's eyes darkened, a mix of surprise and desire flickering across his face.

Changbins hand let go of your wrist, his dark brown eyes still locked on yours as his hands gripped onto your waist nearly pulling you into his lap. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean, little girl. My world is no joke.” His grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you even closer. The heat of his body radiated through your clothes, igniting a fire within you that you thought had long since been extinguished. "You have no idea what you're asking for," Changbin growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Your eyes drifted from his intense stare to his plump lips, “I think I can handle it.” Your voice came out hushed and breathy. Your heart raced as you felt the tension between you reach a fever pitch. Without warning, Changbin closed the remaining distance, his lips crashing against yours in a searing kiss. The world around you faded away as you melted into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his hair as years of pent-up longing and desire poured out between you.

The kiss depended as he moved to push you back on the couch, his large body covering yours. His narrow hips settling easily between yours and you could feel is very hard cock beneath his clothes. His hands roamed your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touched. You arched into him, desperate for more contact, more friction. The rational part of your mind screamed that this was dangerous, that you were in a public place, but the overwhelming desire coursing through your veins drowned out all reason.

Changbin's lips traced a fiery path down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers cascading down your spine. You gasped as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The world around you melted away, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of his touch and the thunderous pounding of your heart. As he lavished attention on your neck, your eyes fluttered open, suddenly remembering your surroundings. Some people were watching, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and desire. A rush of excitement mingled with embarrassment flooded through you. The thrill of being observed only intensified your desire, making your body respond even more fervently to Changbin's touch. You couldn't help but wonder if this was part of his world now—this raw, uninhibited display of passion that both exhilarated and terrified you.

Just as Changbin's hands found their way under your shirt, slowly lifting it up and over your bare chest, you suddenly came to your senses. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your breast, sending shivers down your spine. But as the reality of the situation hit you, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. You gently placed your hand on Changbin's chest, pushing him back slightly as you caught your breath. "Changbin, let's stop."

Changbin pulled back, his eyes searching yours with a mix of confusion and frustration. The sudden shift in atmosphere was palpable, the heat between you cooling rapidly. You sat up, adjusting your clothes and trying to catch your breath. The reality of where you were and what you were doing came crashing down, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Changbin ran his tongue over his lips, savoring your lingering taste. He was breathless, his eyes still dark with desire. "I knew you couldn't handle it," he said, his voice husky and challenging.

Changbin's words stung, but you couldn't deny their truth. You weren't ready for his world—not yet. The realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, smothering the last embers of desire that had burned so brightly moments ago. You stood up, smoothing down your clothes and trying to regain your composure. His eyes followed your every movement. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

His voice was low, almost challenging. You turned to face him, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just transpired. "I'm going to find someone I can handle," you said, your tone sharp with defiance. As you moved towards the curtain, you felt the weight of Changbin's gaze on your back—a mix of disappointment and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

As you slipped through the curtain, the club's pulsing music crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning out the echoes of your encounter with Changbin. The vibrant lights and writhing bodies stood in stark contrast to the intimate darkness you'd just left behind. Your eyes swept across the crowd, searching for a distraction—someone, anyone, who could help you forget the lingering taste of Changbin's lips and the inferno he'd ignited within you.

There, you spotted a striking man with dark hair streaked with white-blonde. He swayed to the music, his infectious smile lighting up his face. A taller, baby-faced guy stood beside him. Your eyes lingered on the handsome dancer, drawn to his carefree energy. Without hesitation, you made your way through the crowd towards them, determined to lose yourself in the pulsing rhythm and the company of someone new.

As you approached, you noticed his deep dimples as he smiled widely. "Hey! Wanna dance?" you asked without hesitation, hoping Changbin was watching. You weren't trying to make him jealous, but you were determined to show him you weren't some pathetic little girl. The handsome man turned to you, his dimples deepening as his smile widened. "Sure thing!" he shouted over the music, already moving to the rhythm. A rush of excitement coursed through you as he took your hand, leading you further onto the dance floor.

"What's your name?" you shouted, leaning closer to him. The scent of cologne and cigarettes wafted from him—an intoxicating combination that drew you in. "I'm Jeongin!" he yelled back, his warm breath tickling your ear. His eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of mischief as he asked, "And you are?" "Y/n!" you responded. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, but he didn't comment further.

You and Jeongin danced for a while, gradually moving closer without quite touching until he placed his hands low on your hips. His touch was warm, but you felt little in response. As you swayed to the music, your mind drifted back to Changbin—the intensity of his touch still lingering on your skin. You tried to focus on Jeongin's friendly smile, but the comparison was inevitable.

Just as Jeongin began pulling you closer, his lean body pressing firmly against yours, someone suddenly yanked you out of his hold. In an instant, Changbin materialized between you and Jeongin, his muscular frame taut with anger. His dark eyes blazed with possessive fury as he glared at Jeongin, one hand gripping your arm tightly. "She's with me," Changbin snarled, his voice low and dangerous, brooking no argument.

"No—" you began, but were cut off as Changbin hoisted you over his shoulder. "I thought friends shared!" Jeongin called out, his tone playful and clearly not serious. "Not this one," Changbin growled before turning and carrying you off. You squirmed in his grasp, trying to break free. "What the hell? Where are we going?" you shouted over the pulsing music.

Changbin's grip only tightened on your body. "To teach your bratty ass a lesson," he growled.

Tagging all the tags I have because I lost my separate lists. So idk who wanted to be tagged in what… I’m sorry!! But please comment if you were someone who only wanted to be tagged in only one members posts! Thank you!

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[1nephthys]

Okay, First, I love your writing. Second, could you please make and imagine base on grey's anatomy? Like, I'm rewatching grey's anatomy, you know when Derek loses that pregnant patient, and then he goes into exile in the forest, and when Meredith goes to the forest saying that she knows about the wedding ring and she wants it, and then he throws the ring in the woods, and afterwards he laments that he lost her. I love that scene, I need an angst similar to this for Charles, I don't know, it might be inspired by last year when he flies to Monaco and binotto had to pick him up. With fluff in the end pleaaaaaase

The ring.

Thank you so so much, also thank you for the request! It took a second and I changed it a little bit but I hope you still enjoy it!!

Part 2!!:)

Word count:~4.9k

Warning: my English and as requested - angst; little, tiny suggestion of smut.

Four years ago.

Charles' mom stood up with a smile on her face announcing that it was time for her to do the dishes. She prepared the biggest dinner she ever had done before when her son finally decided that he want to introduce his girlfriend he was talking about for so long. She had always seen those sparks in his eyes when he was bragging about her.

"Let me help you." Y/n stopped herself from adding "Mrs. Leclerc" as the older woman told her not to do it because she felt old.

She also stood up but Pascale touched her arm and said "You stay there sweetheart, you are our guest tonight" She said to the girl with warm tone "Charles will help me." She looked at her son right beside y/n and he stood up and pick up both of their plates without any protest.

Y/n got herself in conversation with his brother, Lorenzo about something while her boyfriend was washing the plates in his mom's kitchen. "And? What do you think about her, mama?" He asked quietly, afraid that his girlfriend might hear from the other room.

"I don't know. I just met her but she seems really lovely. And with the way you look at each other, I feel like I will have to like her" She answered his son and it made him so happy. He might had a few girlfriends before and he always asked his mom for her opinion about them but never once her answer was this satisfying.

"I think I'm going to give her the ring dad gave me." He told her. They were dating only for a few months so his mom was actually terrified, even though her son looked like he was really in love. The ring he was talking about was really important to Charles because his father brought it for when his boys find the right girl. He noticed every thought on his mother's face, so he added quickly "Relax. I'm not planning to propose now... But when it's the right time, I really love her mama. I just feel it's her"

His mother could just smile at his statement because she - as well - felt like this is the one for her son.

---

Back to the present.

"...and Charles Leclerc finish his home grand-prix right behind the podium, at 4th place!" Everybody could hear through the speakers. Everybody in the Ferrari garage cheered, not for Charles but for Carlos who manage to finish second in this race. Y/n on the other hand knew, that her boyfriend wanted more. She was there before race, when all he could talk about finally starting from the pole position and having the win within his reach but his team failed him.

He got out of the car, mad to the point that he didn't even want to scream and yell at anyone, just stay quiet. He didn't even go for a hug with y/n like he ALWAYS does after race. He just wanted to finish his interviews and go home.

And that was exactly what he did. He told the interviewer about his disappointment, trying to control himself with the rest of the faith he had in his team.

He took a quick shower as y/n waited in his driver' room. The drive home was quiet. Y/n didn't forget to congratulate her boyfriend but when all she got in response was quiet "thanks" and glossy eyes she knew that he didn't really want to speak now. She decided to wait 'till he was ready to talk to her.

"I'm going to take a shower again" Charles said. Both of them knew that this shower was just an excuse to spend time alone and cool down. Before he had gone to the bathroom, he checked his phone, which was on the dnd since his warm-up back before the race.

Hey mate, congrats on P4!

We have to celebrate!

There's an afterparty in *name of the club* you have to come with y/n!

He read all three messages from his best friend, Pierre and he really, really wanted to throw his phone out of the window at the first one.

"Pierre asks if we want to go to the afterparty" Charles asked y/n looking at her with his phone in his hands.

"We can, only if you want" She answered, still worried about her boyfriend mood.

"I will tell him we will be there." He said while putting his phone down and heading straight to the bathroom, before y/n had any chance to say something.

She decided it was best if she also took a quick shower in the guest bathroom of their house and started getting ready. She put on some makeup and a comfortable, yet pretty outfit and she was ready to leave. She was ready but the shower was taking Charles longer time than usual so she decided to knock gently on the door.

"Charles, sweetheart? It's already 8 p.m. Just letting you know" She said through the dark wood. What she did not expect was her lover opening the door with an angry face.

"Jesus, will you at least let me shower in peace? Or I can't do that too?" He asked her angrily, passing her on his way to the bedroom to put on some clothes and leave. She didn't even answer him because he didn't give her time for that and she wouldn't had know what to say anyways. "We can go" He told her, grabbing his keys and walking to the car, without turning around.

She let out a long breath and stopped herself from saying anything, as she knew it was already a rough day for him. Even though his cold tone hurt her a bit. She already knew that she wasn't drinking tonight because he was going to get wasted. She closed their apartment and sit in the passenger seat.

Charles got to the club pretty fast but all the drivers were already there most of them on their third drink. As always, he passed his car keys to y/n and she put them in her purse. They entered the club and Charles went straight to buy drinks.

"I'm not going to drink tonight. You feel free though. I will be with the girls." She told him. She for sure will keep an eye on him but she had mixed feelings and was afraid of him attacking her again. So, she kissed his cheek and was off towards Lily and Kika that were dancing together on the dancefloor.

She greeted both of them and she was glad that it was just like every time they were at a party because she really didn't feel like explaining that her boyfriend was mad at her for a bad race result.

It was already some time at the party and Y/n's mood was actually better now, she had a great time with the girls. Charles also seemed like he was having fun, he definitely did not want to save any money on drinks.

It was around 1 a.m. that y/n noticed that he was leaving the club so she quickly grabbed her purse and said her goodbyes to go after him.

"Charles! Charles!" She yelled after him as he was walking in the opposite direction of their house and totally ignored her. "Charles, wait! I can't catch up!" She yelled which made him stop in his track.

"Maybe I want you to not catch up, huh? I just want you all to leave me fucking alone! Today was shit and I don't really need more of your shit on top of it!" He yelled back.

"Charles, you are drunk, let me take you home, and then you can be alone all you want. Please, c'mon." She said quietly. She was actually glad that he tried to run away from her because at least they were far enough from the club that people outside can't hear them over loud music. Now he might not care about it but he would when he sober up and read headlines and messages from his PR management.

"No. I'm not going with you anywhere. You can go back to having fun with the girls" He said with a mocking tone. He never seemed to mind her dancing with others when they were at the party together so she was surprised at this. "At least you will leave fucking alone. You know what all of this go fucking nowhere. I thought you would be there for me but I feel like I can't count on you, too" He said.

Oh.

"Charles, you can always count on me, I'm here whenever you want to talk to me. I thought that wasn't what you want. And I'm so, so sorry for misunderstanding you. Please, let's go home and talk." She tried again. She actually felt like shit but there wasn't much she could do now, when he was this drunk.

"No. I'm not going anywhere with you." He said and reached into his pocket taking out a beautiful ring, the one his dad gave him. "You know what, I was so fucking sure you were the one to get it..." She knew it, she knew it for years, she just waited. "But fuck this stupid ring, because I can't imagine someone else wearing it and for sure not you now." He finished his sentence by throwing the ring in whatever direction.

Both of their eyes were on it for a second but they both lost it before it hit the ground. She stood there. Stunned by his words and stunned by him throwing the ring that was so important to him.

"Go away." He added, as if what he just did and said wasn't enough. She didn't know what to say or do. So she did actually turn around and started walking in the opposite direction, to their shared apartment, holding her tears for dear life.

The walk home took her longer than usual, on her way she was repeating everything in her head. When she looked through her small purse she noticed his car keys which suddenly made her feel guilty, she just hoped that someone would help Charles get home safe, even after he hurt her.

What she didn't know, was that Pierre was already there. He also was bloody worried about Charles, so he get out of the club not far behind her. When he noticed she started walking in her direction and Charles in totally opposite, right after he threw away the ring he told him so much about, he knew he needed to run after his best friend. He had a few drinks too, but he definitely felt better now.

"Charles!" He yelled. And this time, Charles actually stopped and break out in tears.

"I lost her mate, I'm so fucking stupid" He put his palms on his eyes, to stop the tears from running down his face but there was no use in it. "And I lost it too!"

"Charles, you know she won't give up that easily. And you still have a chance in the championship. You did not lose it yet." Pierre tried to cheer up his friend, he put his hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not talking about championship, mate. The ring. Why did I even do it? I will never fucking find it, I was just so angry and-" His cries were getting worst and worst so Pierre decided to call for a taxi before somebody take a picture that would be all over internet by tomorrow morning.

'Charles Leclerc crying outside the club! There's no more alcohol for him!'

'Charles Leclerc lost the chance for the championship and his long-term girlfriend in one day! That man must had f**k up in his previous life'

Yeah, that was not something he should be dealing with in one week.

He texted Kika too, explained the whole situation, and told her she could stay and he would ask Alex and Lily to get her home later but she said she want to go home too.

All three of them get into a taxi, Charles still sobbing, now also telling the couple about all his happy moments with his love. "I told her I can't count on her. While all I fucking did this whole day was throw mean comments at her. Or comment. I didn't talk to her the whole day. And she still tried to get me home. Because she was worried about me. I'm the worst boyfriend ever. Now probably ex-boyfriend actually. I lost the girl of my dreams mate, I waited so long to ask her to marry me and now I fuck all of this up. Four years mate, four years. And I never once regretted any second of it. But now she probably thinks I am." The car stopped. "I will never forgive myself, so how can she forgive me?"

"We are here." The taxi driver said.

Pierre and Kika thanked the heavens for that, because the drive never felt this long. Pierre paid the driver, with an apologizing, small smile hoping that the old man will not told the media about what just happened in his car.

Both he and Kika get him to the lift and then to their apartment and laid him on the bed in their guest bedroom.

"No, mate. I have to go to y/n. I have to apologize. And I have to find her ring before someone else does it." Charles argue but he gave up quickly when Pierre hold his shoulders down with Kika and that was enough for Charles to not be able to stand up.

"You will do that tomorrow, mate. It will be better if you catch some sleep now." Pierre said but Charles already had his eyes closed. He looked at Kika with understanding eyes and she returned the look. They both quietly exited the room to get to sleep themselves.

---

First thing Charles felt the next morning was his head. The pain was terrible, but as he looked around and noticed he isn't in his bedroom with his sweet girlfriend, he remembered the events of last night, and suddenly the headache wasn't so bad.

He want to the kitchen, where Pierre was already standing looking for something in the fridge. He turned around when he heard footsteps.

"Charles." He looked at his best friend. He didn't look any better than last night. His eyes were red and puffy his shirt was stained, probably with alcohol. "You should take a shower."

"Did you hear from y/n?" He asked straight away. He might be hella drunk, but he wasn't the type to forget the whole night because of it.

"Go take a shower first. We will eat breakfast and I will drive you home." Pierre told his best friend. He actually did hear from y/n last night, way later than both of them left the club she texted him, asking if he knew if Charles was okay. The next thing she asked after she was told that Charles was with her was not to tell him that she asked. And Pierre was actually on her side in this.

Charles had enough of arguments, so he did as his best friend said and closed himself behind the door. He noticed a clean set of clothes on the counter and he knew it was meant for him to borrow.

After his quick shower, he put on Pierre's shirt and pants and left the bathroom to join his best friend and Kika at the table. He sat at the chair that had a plate ready in front and he noticed the small piece of metal right next to it.

His eyes instantly became teary as he grabbed it with his right hand. "But- how?" that was all he managed to get out of his mouth as he lifted his gaze from the ring to his best friend's face.

"Yesterday after we left I told some guys about the ring. We left and they were looking for it. Carlos bring it earlier this morning. He said it took them over an hour to find it but at least it is here." Pierre explained.

He couldn't even explain in words how grateful he was for his friends, he made a mental note to thank his teammate and friend for it.

"I- I don't know what to say. Thank you, Pierre. Thank you, guys." He looked at Kika, too. "It would be even worst without you"

"I accept thanks in the form of wedding invitations." Pierre commented which got him a kick under the table from Kika. Was it too soon for that kind of joke? "Sorry, but you really have to apologize to her, mate. What you did yesterday was shitty."

"Okay, less talking, more eating. The faster you eat, the faster you will get to explain yourself." Kika reminded both of them. That left them without any comment as they both looked at each other, Pierre with a little smirk while Charles - still not in the mood for jokes.

"I think I will take a taxi" Charles said after they ate. Pierre just nodded his head, as much as he wanted to hear his best friend and his other half makeup, he knew that it should be done just between them.

Charles grabbed the ring, put it in his pocket, and left the apartment when he read the text that the taxi was already there. He felt like the drive took hours, when in fact it was only ten minutes. But it was enough time to overthink what was waiting for him at home. He even considered that all of his things were already packed and waiting for him at the door.

He, finally, got out of the car and made his way towards the lift to get to their apartment. He didn't even have his keys so he really hoped she would open the door for him.

It took him one knock at the piece of wood and only a few seconds for her to open it. As if she was already waiting for him.

"Charles." She said quietly, trying to control her voice so bad so it won't break, like she had any chance fighting the tears in her eyes.

"Y/n," He said, not doing any better. He considered so many options what would happen when he get there, yet he had no idea what to say now, that she actually opened the door. "Can I come in?" He asked her, realizing they still standing in the hall.

"It's your house as well" She answered and moved a little aside.

They both walked to the living room and Charles looked around. Their pictures together were still all around. Not a single one was moved. As if nothing had happened, as if he didn't throw away her propose ring right in front of her before she even get it.

"Y/n I- I don't know what I was thinking. I want to say sorry to you, but that's not enough for what I did. Never ever did I want you to leave me alone, I was frustrated by the race and the team but I had no rights to take it out on you. I'm sorry for blaming you for not being there when actually I'm the one that can't communicate. I know I can count on you and you can count on me, I will spend my whole lifetime proofing that to you if it is what it takes for you to forgive me." They both had tears streaming down their faces but that didn't matter now as Charles grabbed both Y/n's hands and squeezed them to tell her that what he was saying was meant from deep of his heart. "I'm not sure if you can do that but if you are, please take all the time that you need. I just really need you to know that I would go with you anywhere, just tell me where and I promise you I will be right by your side."

"Charles, I can't tell you that I'm alright- that we're alright because I am hurt" She said which had him in another wave of tears "But I will not throw away all those years together. But I really need time."

"Cherie, please take as much time as you need, just never leave me, please." Charles begged her but she didn't trust her voice enough this time, so all she did was pull him close for a hug.

So Charles was willing to give her time. As much as she needed. Even when the ring in his pocket were more and more heavy.

---

One year later, Monaco Grand-Prix.

"And finally, after many years Charles Leclerc finish his home grand-prix first! Ladies and gentlemen, Charles Leclerc is the winner of this year's Monaco grand-prix!" The commentator's voice could be heard anywhere.

Y/n hugged Arthur, her boyfriend's brother who was standing right beside her in euphoria. Everyone around them was screaming, throwing their hands in the air and clapping for her boyfriend. He got out of the car and run to her first like he always did. She hugged him so tight and he returned it.

"I'm so, so proud of you! You are the winner!" She screamed and his smile grew even bigger now if it was even possible. She kissed his helmet, in the place where his lips should be right before the couple was torn apart when Charles was pulled for other hugs and then interviews.

He returned to y/n as soon as he could and before he hoped to take a shower he told her "I'm glad you're here with me, I wouldn't have done it without you."

"You are an amazing driver, you are driving this car, not me." She answered. It's safe to say that their relationship had never been this good before.

"Take a shower with me?" He asked with a little smirk as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hers went around his torso in a matter of seconds.

And how she could say no when he was standing in front of her with his little smirk, fireproofs and his race suit hanging low on his hips?

She kissed his lips and they made their way to the shower and what happened there, was a whole different story.

---

Everything will be ready at 8 p.m.

You better not chicken out this time.

Charles read two messages from his best friend answering quickly.

I didn't chicken out, I just wanted it to be more special and keep it a surprise.

"Pierre asks if we want to go to the afterparty" Charles asked as he was sitting at the kitchen table, watching y/n making some food for both of them.

"We can, only if you want" She answered him, quickly returning to cutting vegetables.

"He said that this will be smaller, on a yacht so we can celebrate P1 with closest ones, not whole club" Charles explained, hoping he didn't sound susceptions.

"Yeah okay, dinner will be ready in 10, then we can start getting ready, okay?" She asked.

"Yeah. I love you." Charles said casually, with his heart-shaped eyes which sent off millions of butterflies in y/n stomach. She answered him with the same.

---

All dressed up Y/n and Charles finally get on the yacht, that seemed to be totally empty, no party in sign.

"Are we first? That unusual." Y/n commented as it usually them both to make an appearance when everybody is already drunk.

"Yeah, c'mon" Charles answered all uptight as he took a few steps and hopped on the yacht. He held his hand out for y/n to grab it and step there too.

It was already past 8 p.m. so it was quite surprising that no one was there, but what was even more surprising what that the lights were turned on. Turned her back to Charles to look if somebody was coming from port but when she didn't see anyone, she turned back around.

Only to be met with Charles on one knee.

No fucking way.

"Y/n, you've been there for me for the past five years. And for all those five years, I knew I wanted to marry you one day. I knew it damn well when I almost ruined our relationship a year ago. You took me back and I promised you to give you time. And I'm still willing to give it to you. I want to give you all the time I have. I want to give and share with you every second of my life for the rest of it. I want to be anywhere you are. I want to be able to count on you and make sure you can count on me. Y/n, my cherie, my best friend, my partner in crime, will you marry me?" He may or may not have tears in his eyes, his hands may or may not be shaking as he anxiously waited for an answer.

"Charles- I- of course, I will marry you!" She answered, fighting with the tears in her eyes. She went for a hug as well, noticing how beautiful the ring he was now putting on her finger. "It's perfect" She said, kissing his lips.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how glad I'm you like it." Charles answered her after their kiss. It wasn't really needed because all he had to say was already in this kiss.

"Time to drink for our soon-to-be bride and groom!!!" Pierre yelled getting out of his hidden spot in the cabin. After he went Arthur, their mum, and actually too many people looking at how small this cabin was. Charles and y/n were too busy to think how all of them squeezed in here but surely five more minutes and they all would pass out due to lack of oxygen.

"Congratulations sweethearts! I knew since Charles introduced you to us that one day you were going to be Leclerc." Pascale said, as she was the first one to come to them when the music started playing.

"Congrats, mate!" Pierre hugged Charles while Kika by is side hugged y/n.

"I hope I will be your bridesmaid! I promise I will organize you the best bachelorette party ever!" Kika said to y/n which had her giggling. She just got proposed to and now she already had to think about bridesmaids!

"Hey, if she's bridesmaid I have to be best man!" Pierre answered.

"Ey, ey, not that fast amigo!" Carlos appeared out of nowhere behind Pierre, putting his hand on French driver shoulder "He said I will be best man after I found the ring last year! You didn't forget right?" Carlos asked.

"What?! You told him he can be best man? C'mon..." Two drivers started arguing over who was going to be best man at the weeding while Charles attention catch y/n voice.

"Wait, so this is actually the ring, like the one from your dad? I thought it was lost" His now fiancée asked.

"Yeah, it is. But wait, how do you know that my dad got it with me? I wanted to tell you that later tonight" Charles asked shocked, maybe he wasn't good at keeping secrets, especially not from her, but he would remember if he slipped this.

"Uhh.. that actually might be my fault." If it wasn't enough people appearing out of nowhere that night, Arthur was now standing right next to Charles with guilt in his eyes.

"What?" He asked his brother what did he mean it's his fault.

"Five years ago. You were helping mom in the kitchen after you introduced y/n to us. She was talking with Lorenzo so I decided to help too but I overheard you talking about the ring so I came back" He explained.

"Okay, but that still..." Charles tried to say that did not told him anything, but Arthur started talking again.

"Your secret was safe with me, I swear. For a whole ass year, I kept my mouth shut but then there was that party. I drunk a bit and she just-"

"Hey, don't put it on me!" Y/n laughed, as much as she liked Arthur alive, she wanted to hear really story.

"Okay, I came up to her and told her that I can't wait for her to be Leclerc and for you to give her the ring you choose with dad. I told her it was meaningful and everything. I'm sorry" Arthur got to the end of the story and looked up at his brother.

"So you telling me, I kept my mouth shut, bite my tongue like hundred times but all this time you knew about it? Unbelievable!" Charles said with a look of betrayal on his face. "And you, you little shit? You couldn't tell me sooner? Like every time I was panicking that I almost spilled the surprise?!" He asked his brother this time.

"I said I'm sorry!" Arthur argue back.

"Kids, please calm down. It's time to celebrate. My son is a double winner tonight!" Pascale said. And Charles couldn't agree more. Even though for a second he had forgotten that he actually won the race today, because now he had much more important win.

"You are right, Mrs. Leclerc! It's time to drink for them!" Max yelled, with a beer in his hand.

It definitely wasn't his first tonight.

a/n. It took me a second to write and it was also longer than I expected but I still hope you enjoy it! Especially the person who requested it because it was fun to write! I changed a few things but defo strong inspo from this grey's anatomy ep. Love you:))

[avatar4life]

Reader was dealing with some paperwork as she was walking around the castle, instructing the maids and waving off the knights, feeling stressed about the days as there were some problems with the small folks she has to deal with. After she signed the last paper and gave them to her messanger she went to her chambers to relax and closed and locked her door "do not let anyone in here" she instructed her knights as she closed it. She finally relaxed after took off the heavy weight, both mentally and physically, of her crown and sets it down along with her cloak. She sat on her bed, a thoughtful expression on her face as she looked at her arms and hands before taking off the gloves and showing her black veins, a bit more rised up than yesterday due to the stress. She sighed at the look of her arms and hands, feeling defeated and tired from not finding anything for this 'curse' she had for years. She clasped her hands and thinks of the first time they started appearing

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She was six years old and was running around when she suddenly felt some sting in her fingers, but only thought of it as a bee sting of something and continues to play with her sister Kirsi. They were playing all day and the stings started to really hurt, and that's when she noticed a small shade of black and was confused as she doesn't remember eating anything that could have stained her fingers. She immediately went to her uncle Dedalus and let him look at it "mmm, I have never seen anything like this, I must search it up in our books" he said as he looks at her parents, who were worried for her, her mother holding her close while her father went to pick up Kirsi "please find some brother, we don't know what cit could do to our girl" her father said before he and his wife went to put the girls to bed.

As Reader was sleeping she found herself in a weird dream, a woman, who looks at her in disdain and anger walked towards her and watched her with her black scleras "who are you?" Reader asked as she was scared of the dark place and the woman in front of her "I am the one who will find you and kill you and your family for what your ancestors did to me, for exiling me. I will get my revenge on you and everyone else little girl" she said before giving a screeching scream scaring Reader who also screamed. She immediately woke up, drenched in sweat as she looked around, scared to see the woman again in her chamber and screamed as the door opened before relaxing again as it was just her mother "oh my sweet girl, what's wrong" she asked as she gently carassed reader's hair as she breaths heavily before crying in her mother's embrace "mama, there was a a woman and she was so scary...s-she said she'll k-kill me and our family!" She said as she grips her mother's clothes "oh, my sweet girl, she won't bother us anymore, it was just a nightmare, nothing less" her mother comforts her as she rocks reader and signs a lullaby to lure her to sleep again

Reader slowly fell back asleep as she leaned on her mother and got tucked in bed, thinking all of this was just a nightmare and she'll be fine.

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She's now older and the nightmares continued, getting more gruesome and feeling more close each day. As she looked at her arms and hands she knew that woman put this 'curse' on her and sighs. She thought of her children and her need to keep them safe, even if it meant keeping them away from her. It pained her to keep all.of these secrets from them, to not let them worry too much and keeping them away from the danger no matter how much training she and her family gave them.

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

"mama, what are those?" Her boy asked as his sisters were playing outside and he was with her. Reader looked at her arms and hands and debated herself in revealing her secret to her child before looking at him and seeing his child innocent, unaware of the danger that lurked towards them and the danger it posed on their whole family. In that moment she promised herself to never tell them about the 'curse' and made up a lie, as much as she hates liars and lying "they're just some ink that I spilled while working on some paper sweet boy" she said with a soft smile, masking the guilt she felt for lying to her son. He nodded at her, believing it, and went outside to play with his sisters and cousins. She sighed as she watched them from a window "you need to tell me" Kirsi said, standing by the door and looking at her sister "I can't. I won't put this burden on them" she said turning towards her, looking determined to keep her vow "and when they start to get older and demand more answers, what would you? You can't keep lying to them sister" Kirsi said walking inside the chamber and towards her sister "I don't know, I'll think of something" she said sighing as she looked at her "what would you do when that woman will finally find us?" Kirsi asked feeling more tense and worried, and a bit frustrated in her sister "... I'll send them away, keep them out of danger" reader said looking at her sister, surprising her "...and what would you say? They will question why they are being sent away from their home" she said to her "I'll find something to say, I need to keep them safe. They're my whole world and I'd rather die than let her hurt my children" she said determined and turned towards the window "...you should be there now" she said to Kirsi, confusing her "why?" "Cause your child is about to jump from a tree to try and get in the lake" she said smirking as she watched her sister running out mumbling 'gods be damned, not again'.

She chuckled to herself and looked at the drawings of her children 'i'm going to do whatever it takes to protect them, cause that's what a mother does' she thought as she put the drawings in the stack she has specially for them.

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

Now she was wearing her night robe and looking determined, she settled her spear and bow and arrow by her bed for any attempts or whatnot and was about to lay on her bed, having snuff out the candles and put everything in order, but got interrupted by a raven on her window. She looked confused as she didn't expect anything today as she takes the letter and looked even more surprised by the letter coming from Jacaerys and Baela. As she read the letter she sighed in disappointment and resignement "of course those three couldn't go a day without causing problems and to their half-siblings of all" she mumbles as she continues to read the letter. As she finished the letter she sighed as she knew she had to go to King's Lynn and deal with them and their behaviour but suddenly she heard a noise outside and went towards the window to go and check it out. At first she didn't see anything until she saw a woman, that woman, in the woods looking at her and then leaving. She had wide eyes as shock and dread covered her up like a dark cloud hanging on her, before taking a deep breath and looking at the moon. She now had a determined look on her face

'Gods be dammed '

Fifth chapter whoo! Hope you all like it and keep taking care of yourselfs! (Edit it out cuz I got a better ending)

@aemondwhoresworld

[aziraphales-library]

Hi all! I've been craving some fantasy au slow burn but have been wanting something longer than 50k words (I want to be in for the long haul). I've been reading Beauty and the Beast AUs but I could work with something similar/fusion. (I've already read "The Serpent and the Angel" and "Choose Your Princes Wisely" and loved them both) If you can't manage fantasy au then post-s1 would work as well :)

Give me longing! Give me shy touches and stolen looks! Fluff, angst, and/or hurt/comfort, E rating is welcome. Thanks!

Hey. We have a #fantasy au tag, so check that out. There aren't loads of fantasy fics over 50k with slow burn/pining, so searching ao3 was really simple. Here ya go...

I’m Your Landsailor by IneffableDoll (T)

In a small seaside town called Tadfield, one of the last places on Earth where humans and magic coexist, an exiled selkie and a human who ran away from her life accidentally get themselves married in the oldest, most binding sense. The two are forced to stay together until they can find a way to undo it and free the other from their accidental marriage. It sure would be complicated if they started to fall for each other in the process…

through the silent wood by summerofspock (M)

When Aziraphale Eastgate first moves to Tadfield, he struggles to understand the strange culture of the village. They're not friendly or kind or anything he expected from a village in the north. So when he rescues a snake from a snow storm, he's glad for a little company even if it comes in the form of an animal. Unfortunately, in Tadfield, animals are often not what they seem.

Dragon's Heart by Slow_Burn_Sally (E)

“No dear Aziraphale. It must live” She answered him, and turned her gaze to the massive, sleeping beast. Just then Aziraphale noticed the great pool of dark blood that surrounded the thing where it lay. Blood from its wounds. He looked down at his feet and saw the dark blood pooling around his simple cloth shoes, soaking into the woolen fabric. He felt no revulsion or surprise over this. Only sadness and pity for the poor creature.  “It must live” the goddess repeated. “And you must go to it” Not one to refuse the request of a deity, Aziraphale nodded. “Very well then my Goddess” he replied. “When shall I go?” “At once” she replied. “And you must tell no one”

Faeted, Part One by megzseattle (G)

Ezra fell is an English professor at a prestigious academy for boys. Crowley is the lord of the Unseelie court in the lands without sunrise or moonfall. Somehow fate will bring them together.

Cast the Stone and Create the Ripple by The_Bentley (E)

Crowley stared at him, yellow eyes narrowing. “You’ll have to excuse me for not trusting you. Never encountered your kind before. I suggest you get out of here because this much blood in the water is going to attract sharks.” He twisted around, attempting once again to try to dive into the depths, but without his tail free that was proving impossible. He struggled even harder upon seeing his so-called rescuer pull a knife out of his belt. “Not without you,” the land-dweller replied. “Hold still, please. These nets are meant to dig into skin the more one moves.” “If you're going to kill me, please make it quick. Long, painful discorporations seem like a bad way to go.” Prince Crowley is investigating the damage fishing vessels are doing to crops and homes in his father's underwater kingdom. Prince Aziraphale is supposed to be learning to become a scribe. Their worlds are about to collide, putting Crowley's life in danger and revealing that the land-dwelling angels and ocean-dwelling merdemons just might not be that different after all. (Rated T until Chapter 11 when it becomes more NSFW.)

Omens Of Another Kind by WorseOmens (NR)

Crowley is the Dullahan, a notorious omen of death. Happily ever after isn’t in the job description; he’ll soon meet someone who begs to disagree. (Good Omens Folklore AU)

- Mod D

[starfishstark]

MOONLIGHT

SYNOPSIS The moment tribals heard of a rumor of an outsider inhabiting their planet, Kaibre volunteered to find this man, see if he was a threat to their people or if coexistence was viable. With their blooming friendship, will they become more or will Kaibre find out about his dark origins...

PAIRING qimir x tribal! reader, reader uses the name Kaibre (i cannot write using y/n sorry chat!), reader uses she/her pronouns, the reader has a kid (rhysin my beloved)

WARNINGS 4.7K words, fluff so far, very mild descriptions of violence

pt 1

There’s someone else on the beach…

Word spreads ridiculously fast on Bal'demnic. Even between the coastal tribe to the river tribe, and even back to the mountain tribe driven in solitude with their forever warm underground pools filled with steam and the sound of laughter and prayers all night long. Even more from a single rumor, everything is exposed.

Kaibre assumes, sure, it’s easier, when a single rumor about a crush becomes a marriage proposal in the course of a week. Why bother hiding attraction? Just propose, and if they say no, go sing melancholy songs to the moons above, and sit in your corner of the lagoon for while till you no longer feel so worrisome over something so trivial. If they say yes, grin like a madman and get married that night in front of the black sands, a cortosis thread tied around their neck, and the high moons. On Bal'demnic, when word spreads, it spreads fast. 

When the morning scouts went on their early rounds, they noticed the disturbance in the waves. It was a little irk in the back of their heads, making them tread lightly until one of the boys caught sight of another person on the beach. An outsider!! On their little planet?!

Within the nightfall of the second day, everyone in the tribe harbored anxious thoughts about what to do next. As the closest tribe to the outsider, the stranger, on their lands, they were expected to take care of it. Word had started to reach the other tribes, and the coastal tribe would soon need to find out whether this stranger was here to harm them or not. The little kids of course thought nothing but another face to play along with, and maybe a stranger with no responsibilities would have more time to toss them up into the air while they giggled their little hearts out. 

“Tell me again, what did you see…”

Everytime, the story was the same. There was the stranger in one of the lagoons further north, he limped into the pool, and he had a bag of belongings with him. In the distance, one of those space ships rested peacefully on a small island off the coast. 

And everyone wanted to hear the story. Of course, when words spread, it’s not always true. 

“He had scars littering his body. He’s taller than the anyone in the entire tribe! He was bleeding out his side, limping for relief to the warm lagoon, like someone had maimed him! Bested him, even! Perhaps he’s in exile, all for killing little naughty children who don’t listen to their mothers…!”

Once the sun had set, and the moons started to align again in the lunar solstice of every night, the warriors and workers of the tribe alike gathered around the central fire. Whispers of the stranger slaughtered the silence, he was a myth and legend all the same. There has been no outsider in Bal’demnic for generations.

“Silence!” Icar swished his long robe in a singular motion, letting the quiet settle throughout the crowd around the fire. Their northern coastal tribe was small, many opting to move to the south for the plentiful resources, but the ones still here remained for the sand rich in cortosis, the metal their ancestors settled here for. Powerful to the breathing heart of this planet. That said, there weren’t all that many workers and warriors around the fire, but enough that the instant silence spoke measures to how much respect Icar wielded in the tribe. “I assume we all know of the situation at hand. I am not to waste time, but we must send someone to actually see this stranger on our planet…on our beaches…”

Icar looked up expectantly from his stare at the fire. There was a wash of agreements from the people around, some people automatically raising their hands and volunteering. 

“No, no warriors, we cannot seem as a threat before we know how powerful this stranger is. He could have more with him. No, no we cannot send a stranger immediately, our safest option is someone more…flexible. Unassuming. We need to show the tolerance for co-existence if they come in peace. Able to collect information, and for the worst path…someone our tribe is mendable to be without. I’m sorry, but we cannot afford to lose a head warrior if this is a legitimate threat.”

Instant groans and protests sounded from the head warriors seated next to Kaibre, one of them even getting up and ready to argue with Icar before Icar shot him a hot look. 

“I can do it.” 

The head warriors turned to look at Kaibre with a curious look, like they didn’t even notice her at the meetings.

Icar looked at her with a pained expression, shaking his head, “Kaibre, you have a son.”

“The- the people will watch over him.” Not gonna lie, Kaibre forgot about that for a moment she volunteered. But she didn’t feel like this stranger was going to kill her, and people like Kaibre have knack for getting things like this right. “No child goes without here.”

It takes a village to raise a child, that much was true. If Kaibre was to drop dead the next second, her son would not go without being taken care of. Without being fed, without a roof over his head, even if he might be alone in the hut Kaibre built by herself, 3 months pregnant with him. But even then, the children will come and go in their hut, he will stay with the people, and he will find his place among them. 

“But you have just had a son, it’s been barely 4 cycles.” Icar reminded her, watching her carefully. 

“I…don’t believe this stranger will kill me.”

The tribals went silent again, holding their breaths. 

Kaibre was sensitive to the air, the kids used to say. She could always tell if one of them was lying about where they all really were. Even when she was a kid, she could tell when one of her friends would become sick the next day. She would always give her food away for the hunter and warriors who went hungry too soon too fast, like she could tell that night they would be bountiful in their hunt and bring back the food she had given away tenfold. 

And even now, everyone held their breath to the girl who could feel what was wrong in the air. Their attention made her squirm in her seat, trying to focus on Icar, who was looking at her with furrowed eyebrows, but resolved in his decision. 

“Are you sure? Rhysin only has one mother. One guardian.”

Her eyes focused in on the movement of the fire, swallowing her fear and trying to commit herself to this. When her eyes met Icars’ again, he knew her answer. 

“You will leave one rotation from now, when the sun sets, take a cortosis blade with you for protection, and a bag of warm supper for amity.”

Kaibre nods, barely able to keep in her excitement of going out of the village again. She hadn’t been out like this in 4 cycles. 

The next day goes by in a hurry, with Kaibre prepping her eyes with the dark ashes in a clay pot for seeing in the night, strapping a cortosis blade flat to her thigh, hidden by the ruffles of a white skirt. Her black drape lays artfully on her, even earning her a “Pretty Ammi!” from Rhysin when she sees her getting ready. She laughs, picking up her little boy and kissing both his cheeks, before telling him to run off to Lysa’s house for the night, her close friend. 

She sees Icar one last time where he hands her a bag full of food, enough to feed two and a clear sign of appeasement. Giving her one last nod, he sends her off before the moons align that night. 

The trek to the northern lagoons is not difficult usually, but with her watching every step in the darkness, and carrying all that food, it takes the breath from her just a little. However, the energy returns to her the second she sees the trail of smoke coming from an opening in the nearby cave system adjacent to the lagoons. Her breath catches, and she carefully treads on the rocks leading her to the cave opening. 

She hears the whirs and revs of machinery, oh she hasn’t seen any her entire life, and peers from behind a rock wall to see the stranger…

They were right, he bleeding out his side. How did Lysa even come up with a lie that clever and accurate? Even from where she was standing, she could see the slight way he preferred to his left side, with the hint of bandages under his loose shirt. 

Wow, he’s wearing a shirt…

She hasn’t seen a shirt except one time she dreamt of one, and once when she saw it in a what they call a magazine in the mountain tribe from years ago. 

He had skin paler than those in the tribe, almost like someone washed him in milk compared to her own wood toned skin. His hair covered the back of his neck, hanging low in front of his face, covering it from his view, but she picked up on hooded eyes narrowed in on what he was melding. 

She looked around the room, staying behind that wall keeping her from his view. It didn’t look like that of someone aggressive. 

“You know, you don’t have to hide behind that wall.”

Kriff…

She leaned from the edge of the wall again, peering at the stranger all over again. He was relaxed, and open with his posture. Hunched just a little in his seat, with his lips tugging at an easy going smile. 

“Do you speak Aurebesh?” He asked patiently while Kaibre stepped completely out of the shadows, standing with arm against the rock wall.

She nodded, unsure what to say after being caught so blatantly, and not more than a minute she had been there. Was she losing her touch?

“I apologize for disturbing your planet…It was recorded as uninhabited and uninhabitable. It wasn’t until I landed that I realized how ridiculously outdated that was.”

Kaibre nods unsurely, slowly - towards him and stands closer to him. “Why are you here?”

“I- uhm,” He looks taken back by the question, unsure what to answer. “Refuge. I’m, uh, searching for somewhere safe. To live, away from…all that out there.” He gestured vaguely to the stars, visible in the openings of the cave. Awful cave to be in really, absolutely useless in the rain season. “I don’t plan on hurting anyone.” To emphasize his point, he raises his open palms as a pseudo-surrender. 

She relaxes, getting closer to him curiously, dropping her bag carefully before taking another step and lurching forward to cup his face with both hands.

“You look like the mountain people…” She trailed off, rubbing her thumb on his cheekbone inquisitively, as if she thought it would wipe off. Her fingers touched his hair, wondering how it was so straight on him. 

It was a common greetings between tribes meeting once in a decade of rotations, just to see how different the people looked between tribes, but Kaibre was unaware how sudden it seemed to him. 

“Uh….what are you doing?” He asked quietly, watching her attentively but taken off guard with how curious she was. He didn’t move her off though, a small piece of him enjoying the innocent curious touch as opposed to the violent, brash, and fleeting touch he’d escaped. Her hands were warm against his cool face, and he looked right at her, trying to meet her eyes. He breathed out softly, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Kaibre from the northern coast tribe.” She tilted her head in the same way his was tilted, her lips turning into a smile when she saw the way he started to chuckle at the same time. Kaibre noticed his hands slowly covered her own on his face. “What are you called?”

“Qimir,” he answered immediately. “I promise I’m no threat to your people…So long as they don’t hurt me…”

“Where are you from…?”

“Coruscant,” He answered in the same quiet voice, like being too loud would scare her away. Quimir squinted at her, taking in the embellishments on her ears, like little bells. Really, how did she manage to be that quiet with those on her? Her hair was pulled back into a complex braid, leaving stray hairs on the nape of neck and at the edges of her hairline. 

Kaibre nodded, feeling satisfied with the way she scrutinized him as a person, and stepped back, slipping her hands from under his. She picked up the bag from the ground, holding it out to him like an offering. “A gift. We did not know if you were able to catch any food.”

He smile turned lazy, looking at her in sincere gratitude. “Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed good food…”

They sat on the ground next to each other, with Qimir asking what each food was called and nothing less than melting at each bite he took in his right hand. After the first two times Kaibre slapped away his left hand when he went to go grab something new, he quickly learned he had to eat with the right hand or nothing else. 

Kaibre still noticed how he preferred his left side. “What happened?” If he was attacked, he could be tracked, and if he was tracked, he could lead trouble right to her little planet.

“I got in a mixup with some spice traders. Not to worry, they won’t follow me here if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That’s…exactly what she was worried about. How did he know that?

She nodded slowly, pulling out the grain drink from inside the bag, handing it over to him. Qimir squinted at first, looking at her with apprehension with the first time, eyes flickering between the weird substance and her expecting face. 

“Uh…what is that?”

“It’s sathu, drink up, you’ll heal fast.”

“I can heal with some bacta, really, it’s fine—”

“Sathu is refined and prepared for hours, you know how much work goes into this?”

He looked at it again, his face betraying his thoughts. “Do I have to?”

She looked at him expectantly, nudging it forward again. Kaibre, single mother of a toddler, nailed down the ‘don’t make me ask twice’ look ages ago. Qimir stood no chance. 

He sighed, taking it from her hands, smelling it questionably, and took a sip. However, catching the window she had, she held her hand under the cup, pushing and pushing till he finished the whole drink. 

Once he finished, he shot her a grumpy look, maybe aiming for angry, but all she could see was the little brown sathu stache that clung to his actual stache. She nodded, happy that he finished the whole drink without spilling any. “Good, good boy, you finished the whole thing.” 

Qimir looked like he might have choked on something, nodding again, and looked at the wrapped up food. He hesitantly looked out the cave. “Is it really ok for you to walk back alone?”

“You came to the forest, I was raised in it,” Kaibre smiled proudly, gathering the leaves and putting them in the bag again. 

“Will you come by again?” He asked casually, eyes averted as he stands up. 

She thought about it. “It depends on what the people decide on. We might negotiate terms for coexistence, maybe even cooperation between us.”

Qimir just smiled. 

__

Qimir thought about the strange woman he met. She came just up to his collarbone, with long hair swept up into a intricate braid, and dark lining around her round eyes, making them stand out when she studied him those few long minutes. The way her hands felt cupping his face and rubbing against his skin like the color might scrub off if she did it too hard. 

And then the food she shared with him. No one told the tribals to do that, but they took it upon themselves. Now Qimir is no fool, they’re trying to prevent animosity in the future for sure, and he felt no aggression coming from the womans’ ridiculously untrained force signature. 

He felt her energy from a hundred feet away, his face perking up at it. At first, he thought it was a group of many people traveling together, maybe for a battle. It was only when she got closer that Qimir realized it was one person. One force sensitive person. Incredible. Really, how did the Jedi not detect her?

He could almost feel tendrils of the force nudge against his mental walls, trying to poke and prod a guess of what he was like. Of course, she wasn’t even aware that’s what she was doing. He had to have her, had to teach her, he could feel the urge tugging at him the second she left. 

She’ll be back… Qimir reassured himself. He could still remember the second she stepped from behind the wall, white ruffled skirt, and a black shawl draping as a top, leaving her shoulders exposed and a sliver of her hip. 

Kaibre, hm? Bal’demnic, oh what a perfect place for refuge…

__

As the rotations flew by, Qimir became a friend to the Bal’demnic people. Kaibre communicated rules to him, and he accepted, more than happy that they were willing to share the space with them. Kaibre made the walk up to his caves more than once a week, to either bring food, or at his request to help with carving out the space in his caves. In return for the food, he would trade the village for some of the things he brought from outside the planet. He would leave maybe once a month to go run for supplies, and in that time he would return with dozens of pelts and waterskins, and sometimes gifts he saved to trade with later for. 

But she would lying if she said she only went up there as often to trade. She found solstice in the quiet companionship beyond the village, given the little artificial light he had set up around the cave, technology she had never seen before. They could take forever in front of the false sun, until the moons had long aligned and she realized she had to head back to Rhysin before morning. She realized that Qimir preferred her company as well, asking if she would return everytime she left. 

“Qimir?” Kaibre called out, carrying millets and grain in her bag. She looked around the cave, setting down the bag in it’s usual spot. “Where did you go?”

He could be in the lagoon maybe, but it was unusual at this time. After the sun set? Likely not. 

Today was another day she came with no plan in mind, expecting no trade at the time. She came to talk with him, like they often did. He had this sharp tea that he poured to the both of them, sipping at the edge of the cave where the grass met the sand met the hard rock. They talked about the stars, what they would call each on Bal’demnic, and the rest of the galaxy. 

They talked about themselves. Sitting across the archway from each other, plenty of space between them, but when they started talking about their pasts, it seemed like that space shrunk to feel much more bearable. 

Qimir came from a tribe called Jedi. He tried correcting her that it was simply an organization of sorts, of people unable to love and live like the rest do, but with a name like that, they would be a sick tribe. He described how he couldn’t handle staying with the Jedi, and she was curious why they weren’t allowed to love, but he brushed it off and she didn’t pick it up again.

He felt like he didn’t belong. So Kaibre confessed how the people would say Kaibre was sensitive to the air. His demeanor changed, getting up to sit next to her against the wall instead, nodding and heeding her confession like it was a prayer.

Kaibre told him how it felt sometimes like she didn’t belong in that tribe, where everyone was just a little wary of the truth about her, and he held her hand like she was an altar. 

She looked around the corner again, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t see him. She could clearly smell the sharp tea he was brewing in the corner, so he couldn’t have stepped out for long. 

“I’m over here!” He called out, walking in with a new pelt in his hand. He was wearing these hamaka pants, as he told to her once, dark along with a crossed wrap top. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait Kaibre- woah! Whoa, whoa, whoa, pause. Who is that?”

His eyes were narrowed in on someone behind her, and she, confused, turned to see no one. “Who?”

“Behind- Behind the wall??”

Kaibre reached her hand up the slit in her skirt, pulling out her cortosis blade with ease, as Qimir hurried to grab her shoulder and steady her. “Wait, it was just a little kid.”

“Come out,” She said steadily, watching the edge of the wall carefully. And out padded little ol’ Rhysin in all his glory. “Rhysin?!”

Kaibre sounded undignified, sheathing her blade back into it’s place, walking over to Rhysin with the intention to dragging him by the ear back to the village. Rhysin, sensing her intentions from a mile away, ran at his window and right to Qimir, grabbing onto the hamaka pants and tugging at them. By reflex, Qimir picked him up and turned him away from Kaibre. 

“Rhysin, hm? What brings you all the way here? With Kaibre?”

“He was supposed to be sleeping!” Kaibre emphasized. “Do you know how dangerous that was? What if you tripped on something? What if you got stuck in a hunter trap? Hm? I almost threw my blade at you!”

“Ok, ok, it’s not his fault he’s just a little curious. I know someone else that was just as curious as him too,” Qimir spoke easy to her, breaking down the tension and anxiety she had from seeing Rhysin here. The way he adjusted his grip to bounce Rhysin up and down to comfort him at the same time didn’t go unnoticed to Kaibre. He was a natural. “Besides, you’ve been hiding me from the rest of your tribe, isn’t it around time I saw some new faces?”

“Rhysin when we get back to the tribe, you are in big trouble,” Kaibre wanted, narrowing her eyes onto him. 

“Hey! Be nice to him.” Qimir all but pouted along side the three year old. “Who is this little adorable little monster anyways-”

Kaibre sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Rhysin, meet Qimir, the outsider and my friend. Qimir, meet my son, Rhysin.”

Qimir’s entire body stiffened up, looking appalled, shocked, and nervous at the same time. “Son?” He choked out, still bouncing Rhysin up and down. “I-I didn’t know you had a son.”

“It…didn’t come up…” Kaibre answered. Actually, she preferred that he didn’t know she had a son with no father, just appearing one day in her womb. Where was she going to start explaining that one?

Qimir hummed, and then just smiled at Rhysin. “Well, I don’t suppose you guys can make the trek back this late. Especially with this little one, and the pelt at the same time…”

Kaibre sighed, looking regretful. “Rhy, baby, why?”

“I wanted to see him too.” Then he had the audacity to pout. 

Qimir practically melted, pouting back and then at Kaibre, “Oh please, Kaibre, one night won’t harm anyone.”

“Qimir, you have a tiny bed. And I’m not sleeping on the floor because someone decided to play explorer tonight!”

“Actually, I have a new pelt,” Qimir pointed out, “And this little guy wouldn’t mind sharing now, would he?”

Kaibre pinches the edge of her nose. It’s alright, yes, but the fact her son would be this reckless…ah, what was she thinking? He was her son after all. Hers, and unpredictabilitys’. She couldn’t get too mad at him, but at the same time she had half the mind to chase him down the coastline all the way to the village the next morning. 

“C’monnnn.” Woah. When did he move that close to her? Qimir tugged at her shawl lightly, mindful of the way it would fall off her if he wasn’t careful. He and Rhys gave her matching pouting faces, but she was a little preoccupied with the fact she could count the strands of hair falling in front of Qimirs’ face right now, and the little laugh he did when he realized her staring. “The pelt is really really soft, promise.”

She sighed, nodding while Qimir and Rhysin both giggled in glee and celebrated in their own separate world. Rhysin was not going to getting off Qimir any time soon.   

When Qimir finally set him down, Kaibre practically flew at her chance to get her hands on Rhysin, by holding him upside down by the ankles. She emphasized her point while Rhysin giggled at her antics, and agreed he would never do it again (lies). They ate dinner in less tension after that, Qimir exuding off a strange energy. He seemed at unease, but acting completely fine otherwise. She gave him weird looks, ones that he couldn’t have not noticed, but he ignored them outright. It’s fine, she’ll confront him about it next him she sees him, without Rhysin here. 

“See? The pelt is pretty great, right?” Qimir laid it down in a carved out corner, perfectly fit for it. She supposes he’s been planning for a while after the initial discomfort of his ratty mattress dissolved. She told him good pelts were found further north, where the thick fur was essential in cold seasons. He even knitted a large blanket to match it. After securing down the pelt onto the bed and moving the pillows back, and placing the blanket on top, he stepped back to show it off in a “ta-da!” motion. 

Kaibre shrugged, picking up Rhysin and laying on one side with him, while Qimir laid on the other side. 

It was fine, it was incredibly warm and comforting on the pelt, and even the blanket insulated heat inside. Just the one night…

__

“Ammi, ammi, ammi, get up, get up, get up-”

Kaibre whines quietly, feeling warmer than she has any morning in a long time. She batted away his hand tugging at her arm, moving closer into the warm corner she was against, “Rhy, go catch rabbits, let me sleep…”

Rhy ran off, she rolled her eyes, leaning further into the wall— that wrapped back around her?

Kriffkriffkriffkriff, that was not a wall, that was mister ‘wall-of-muscle’ Qimir. 

But dank farrik, he was so warm. 

Her eyes fluttered just a little open, noticing that she was currently laying on his bicep (perfect pillow, wow) with his other arm pulling on her waist, fingers splayed around and over the rolls of her stomach where she was curled up. She sighed, content with the soft fur under her, the droning sound of Qimir’s breathing on her neck, and the warm vibrating off his chest. Rhys would be fine, no forest animal came near these caves…Kaibre could indulge in a while, just until Qimir woke up and realized what he had done accidentally in his sleep. 

She could hear a soft groan coming from him, probably the rising sun getting into his eyes before he was ready to leave sleep. She quickly closed her eyes. No need to let him think she was letting him hold her like that… 

But she didn't say anything when his breathing changed every so slightly from his sleep, and his arms furrowing deeper into his hold on her.

[lukecastellanshandholder]

Well guys, the PJO fandom on TikTok has now reached a new level of stupid. Only thing is that this time it isn’t about Luke… it’s about Calypso…

I just watched a video where someone asked if others find it weird to ship immortal characters with demigods from PJO (no, because it’s all fictional but whatever), then said that it’s weird that people ship Caleo. Now, do I personally like Caleo? No, because I don’t like the way she treats Leo. Do I understand that other people don’t like the ship because of the whole age thing, sure. That’s how they feel about it and that’s ok.

However… the person in this video then goes on to say that it’s weird that Calypso would be "going after" younger boys, and asks why Calypso doesn’t just try to get with other immortal beings or older heroes…. Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there are a few things that are keeping Calypso from just going online and making an Immortals Only profile to find her a suitable match with someone more "her age".

Hmm, what was one of those reasons… oh yeah, BECAUSE SHE IS LITERALLY STUCK ON AN ISLAND AND CURSED BY THE GODS TO BASICALLY NEVER FIND LOVE!!!! Like, are you kidding me??? Did we forget that she literally does NOT get to choose who the gods lead to the island of Ogygia??!! Are we forgetting that mostly the only ones who are able to find her island are heroes on the brink of death?? Do we forget the reason why she is trapped on that island and exiled from the rest of the world??? Did we forget the basics of her story??

I mean, my gods! Yes, I understand not liking Calypso as a character and I understand you not liking Caleo as a ship. But for the love of the gods, at least understand her story and that the whole point is that she isn’t given a choice who gets sent to her island. All Calypso knows is that the only way she can get off that island is if she can get someone to love her back, and that she has to take whatever chances she’s given or be stuck alone forever.

She’s not a predator out there trying to actively go after younger heroes. She’s someone else that got caught up in a war between the Gods and the Titans and was cursed by the gods to essentially suffer forever. She’s someone who’s just trying to escape the wrath of the gods while only being sent a select variety of choices and chances.

Just…. For the love of everything good please reread TBotL and actually use the little bit of common sense that your brain produces while reading it.

[wackapedia]

The Lady Of Devon

Sihtric x Reader, Finan x Reader Summary: You are a daughter of the ealdorman of Devon, you bothered Uhtred to let you join his band of merry fighters, and you live the best months of your life. Warnings: none, sad times Wordcount: 1,382

“Think about it, Sihtric, you don’t have to pay a girl if she truly loves you, eh?” You gave the Dane a raised eyebrow when he asked to borrow a few coins from you. He looks down at his ale and sighs, not wanting to hear your reprimands. “If you’re refusing me, then just say it! I don’t need to hear your sermon.” He slams his tankard against the table, startling you and Finan, sitting side by side. It is clear to the both of you that Sihtric has had enough drinks for tonight, evident in his slurred tone and rude approach.

“Maybe we should sober up a bit…” Finan reaches over to retrieve the Dane’s ale, swapping it with a mug of water, “.. before we say something we regret, aye?” “No!” Sihtric keeps his ale close to his chest. “What is she even doing here?” He glares at you, tucked in a corner of the booth. “Daughter of an ealdorman who’s done nothing significant, so now you’re pretending to be a warrior so you could be lady of Devon, when all you do is flirt with me and give me unsolicited advice?!” Sihtric raises his voice, loud enough to silence half the alehouse and turn their eyes on your booth. Finan clamps the dane’s mouth under his palm, but the damage has been done. He has said what he wanted to say. “Excuse me…” You mutter under your breath as you make your way out of the crowded room while Uhtred walks in with a couple more drinks in his hand. “Check your manners, boy.” Finan points an accusing finger at the younger Dane before leaving him with his lord as the Irishman follows you out. “I’m sorry about Sihtric, he’s just drunk and frustrated…” Finan knocks at your door, hoping to comfort you. “It’s not your doing.” You try to keep your voice stable, hiding the fact that you are crying. “What he said was true anyway…” The door creaks open, and you see the Irishman’s kind eyes searching your watery ones. “Oh, y/n..” His heart breaks as he steps in, taking in your appearance. No man should ever let you cry. “What he said was mean..” “But it’s true.” You sob into his broad chest, allowing yourself to drown in his warmth. “I’ve proven myself useless to my people; I ran away from my responsibilities; and I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him!” Everything Sihtric has accused you of is true. When your younger brother was named heir, Uhtred and his men happened to be passing by your hometown. The morning after the witan, you ran away and followed (more like bothered) Uthred until he accepted. Over the course of eight months, the exiled lord of Bebbanburg and his men treated you like family. In those months, between battles, shield walls, and Coccham, you found yourself gravitating toward Sihtric, that kind and mysterious Dane who was so fierce in battle, yet so nice, gentle, and funny when he was hanging out. You were certain he has noticed how often you prefer to sit next to him, set your bed roll next to his when you’re camping, and check on him during battles. Finan thinks Sihtric should be grateful to have your attention. It’s not everyday you have a beautiful, young, and gentle lady care for you. Unfortunately, the young Dane sets his sights on that one woman from the brothel who was very obviously ripping him off all his coin, even getting into bar fights because of her. You cry yourself to sleep that night, and Finan ever so kindly stays with you, sitting on the floor and resting his head at the edge of the bed. In the morning, Finan groans at the pain shooting up his neck from sleeping in an awkward position. Sunlight beams through the open windows of the lodge, brightly illuminating the room and the empty bed. His eyes immediately darted through where your belongings were supposed to be, only to find them void of your riding boots and your bag. The Irishman rushes out of the lodge, clocking Sihtric, who was on the way up to your room. “Is she awake?” He asks, bringing a bunch of flowers, probably for you. Finan was still too angry to give him an answer, and he was in a hurry to check the stables. This time he comes across his lord Uhtred, hastily marching back to the inn. “Where is y/n?” He bellows as Finan approaches. “Her horse is gone!” Finan snaps into action and mounts his horse, beckoning it to ride fast to catch you on your way back home. The sound of distant hoofbeats startles you on your way home. You prayed that whoever was on the way would not bring danger. “Y/n!” Finan yells as soon as he sees you miles ahead in an open field. You pull your horse to a stop as the Irishman catches up. “Y/n, If I have offended you, I apologize…” Finan sighs, still catching his breath. “You have not offended me, dear Finan.” You gave him a sad smile. “I have wasted enough of my time rebelling against my family. "It’s time for me to go home.” Finan is at a loss for words. “Please extend my gratitude to Lord Uhtred,” You begin to tear up. “And to every man and woman in Coccham. I’ve never felt so at home during my brief stay there,” You try to hold down a sob. Finan wishes to unmount his horse and take you in his arms, to tell you how loved you are, and to express all the love he’s ready to give you. “I thank you, Finan. For everything.” There was pain in your eyes as you said your thanks. You forced a smile for him, and somehow it felt like a goodbye. The Irishman watches you fade east, toward your home. Maybe your father would reconsider and appoint you as heir to Devon, or maybe he’ll arrange an advantageous marriage for you, and you’ll live the rest of your days learning to love someone. He hopes you find the happiness you deserve. The happiness he was ready to give, if only you felt the same way for him. A year has passed since your departure from Coccham. Things have become awkward between two of Uhtred’s best fighters. Finan and Sihtric would often have a random lull in their conversation, as if stopping themselves from mentioning a certain ealdorman’s daughter whenever something reminded them of her. Nonetheless, both still treat each other with respect, having each other’s backs on the battlefield and looking after each other as if they were blood brothers. Uhtred watches them and figures he should just avoid asking about her in fear of sparking something distasteful in their mending relationship. The lord of Bebbanburg now feels anxious to deliver the news to his men of King Alfred’s instruction for them to visit Devon and see how the new ealdorman is managing the land. “Where ‘east’, lord?” Sihtric asks as they journey on the road. Uhtred figures he’ll wait until one of them figures out on the way, “East.” He answers. Finan already suspects where they are headed as they move closer to Devon. The gates of the stronghold creak open as their band of ten men arrive. “Welcome to Devon, Lord!” A young man descends the stairs and greets Uhtred. The young man’s eyes shift, looking into every single man’s eyes as if looking for something or someone. Uhtred dismounts from his horse and gives the young ealdorman a firm handshake. And for the first time in almost a year, someone directly refers to you. “Did my sister choose not to come with you?” Your younger brother, now the ealdorman, inquires. Uhtred, in his surprise, twists around his band of men, carefully making eye contact with Finan and then Sihtric, who were both equally giving him an unreadable look. “Isn’t she here, lord?” Sihtric questions, remembering to show respect. “Why would she be? She left to join you a year ago…” The young ealdorman raises a curious eyebrow at the king’s men. “She left us a year ago; we thought she came home!” Finan exclaims, forgetting to show respect. There was an uneasy silence in Devon’s courtyard.

[babygirl-riley]

Could we have an alternative version of part 2 to lies? I crave pure angst, maybe reader doesn’t forgive him?

Lies Pt 2 Alternative Ending

You started to pack your things as Simon came home.

A/N: Oh yeah, I love the angst as well. Hehehe evil idea 😈 We love the angstttt! But here it is anon, hope it fulfills its expectation.

“I think I seen this film before and I didn’t like the ending.”

Warnings: angst, literally PURE fucking depression, not a happy ending, trauma, childhood trauma

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

happy ending

You were packing. You couldn’t be in this god forsaken area anymore. You couldn’t look without seeing him. Seeing his face everywhere. Seeing your team. You were done. Done with everything. Your eyes burning with tears and your heart burning with anger. That was the first thing you did once opening this apartment door.

Simon knew what was coming next, he knew once you left the room. Price let him go in hopes everything would be fixed. Instead he came home with shit all over and you pacing. “Let’s talk please.” He begged watching you grab belongings.

You didn’t say anything as you pulled bags and cases, stuffing them. You couldn’t believe he even came here, yes you both lived here. But you didn’t want to see or even hear him. A week before he faked his iconic death, this was both of your home. A home that you could come back to. Feeling safe. Now darkened. You grabbed clothes piling them quickly next to a case. Simon’s heart raced quickly as more things started to pile up. “Please just hear me out.” He said stepping in front of you.

You froze, your lips trembling, anger bubbling up through your veins. “Move.” You ordered, he stood his ground.

“Where will ya go? Let’s just talk please.” Simon said trying to keep himself from holding you.

He fucked up bad, the realization setting in. Noticing the apartment disarrayed even before you grabbed your things. He realized how fucked up you were when he was gone. Bottles of liquor scattered, food and dishes piled in the kitchen. Simon was trying to calm himself, trying to get you to settle. To talk. To save the both of you.

“My parents live in the US,” You said moving passed him. Simon shook his head. “I already have a fucking plane. I already paid for all the bags I will use. I am going.”

Simon shook his head again. “No ya don’t have to go back to the states.”

You laughed, like it was a joke. Maybe it was. “You should have thought about that before you selfishly left.”

Simon laughed this time. “Selfishly, it was to protect the team. You!”

You snapped your head over to him. “ME! You are fucking joking Simon, this is all some sick fucking joke between you and boys huh,” Simon kept shaking his head as you fully turned around. “You lied you fucking lied! And it’s not some fucking lie that you can just brush underneath a neat fucking rug Simon! Do you realize how fucking serious this is?”

“Ya I do, I realize that! I had no choice it was a fuckin’ order! It was to get Samson out of hiding! It was the best choice!” Fuck. That’s not what he meant.

“Best fucking choice! There was other choices?!” You yelled, lifting your hands to your face.

“No there wasn’t there was no…”

“Bull shit! All this is bull shit! We were suppose to be a team Simon! A team! Instead you decided to play fucking hero! You decided that it was okay to play around with your foot soldiers and with the fucking captain! Everyone knew! Not including me of course! You wanted a fucking show! All of you!” You yelled flipping your body around stuffing a bag.

He walked up to turn you around. “I didn’t want it!”

You pushed him off getting in his face. Tears running down your face, anger written all over your face. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me. You lost that the moment you fucking died.”

Simon stared into your eyes for moment. His heart tearing itself apart. “I can’t loose you,” He whispered, his own tears brimming his eyes. “We can fix this.”

He saw the internal battle. Your eyes soften then you blinked it away. Your Ghost shielding your innocents. Just how his Ghost shielded Simon. “No Simon this can’t be fixed. You can’t fix this. What if I killed myself? You know how guilty you would have felt?”

“That’s not fair.” He mumbled, thinking about if that route turned. If that route happened. Seeing you pale, cold. Gone. Simon would have felt guilty, would have gone off the rails. He caused that pain.

You got up closer to his face. “It’s only fucking fair, that’s how much pain I was in. I would have hated to see you in that pain,” You gasped trying to hold back a sob. You pressed your finger against his chest. “The funny thing is Simon you didn’t care. But I would have.”

Simon glared pushing your finger off. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” He stepped back rolling his eyes.

“I don’t need words to know how you fucking feel Simon.” You snapped back.

“You would have done the same thing! If it meant to protect me!” Simon argued. He tried to collect himself, feeling the guilt taking over his veins.

You raked your fingers through your hair, laughing. “You are just getting more and more funnier Simon! I would have chose US, I would have found a different way! I would have argued! I would never ever put you in a situation like you went through with your fucking family!”

Simon consciously stepped back. He waited for a apology or a change in your demeanor that you didn’t meant to bring up his family. “This is where you apologize.” He said.

“Apologize? I know how much pain that brought you and I’m sorry for that but it seems like to me in order to get into your fucking mind. Is to relate it to that. You were my family. You were my person. But you died. You are dead to me.” You mumbled, you wanted to apologize, you knew the darkness behind his past but…how else could you tell him how you felt.

Simon could feel Ghost’s hands grabbing at him. Pulling him into a secure place. “That was fucking different. They were taken away from me without comin’ back.”

You shook your head. “Yeah but that would have been the same for me. You were gone, I couldn’t do fucking anything about it.”

Simon just stood there, the silent of the apartment now building. Everything was falling apart. Simon felt himself closing up, just like you closing up. The trust broken. The happy memories being plagued into this one. The happy home, that was called a home turning into a empty home. “Choices have consequences,” You said zipping up a bag. “Ironic that it was something you said.”

Simon didn’t know what to say. What could he say? He wanted to fix it, do something but it seemed like you were done. With no fighting for it. “Please.” He begged one more time, hoping that this was a nightmare or that you would stop and agree.

However more things started to disappear and bags being brought out next to the door of the apartment. “Simon I can’t. You broke a promise that I don’t know if you can ever keep. Work will always come first with you. Which is you. But me I can’t go through a lie like that again and I can not trust you to not do it again.”

Ghost stood there, jaw clenching, everything turned off. Simon now gone letting Ghost take over. “If there isn’t trust then fine,” He said walking towards the door. “Then leave don’t expect me pickin’ up when you call.”

You scoffed. “Don’t worry Ghost,” Ghost’s heart pinged with pain from you changing his name. You noticed the change in demeanor immediately, you seen him do it over and over during missions. Protecting Simon from the awful things he had to in the line of work. “You won’t get a call.”

Ghost looked over his shoulder to see you watching him leave. Seeing the tears. Seeing the pain. The tears and pain that he caused. Nothing can be fixed. This can’t be fixed. Ghost wanted to go back in time and tell Price to fuck off, that there could have been a different way. The only thing Simon was happy with, the only thing that made him not feeling like a ghost. A monster.

The look in your eyes when he walked through the door made him feeling a monster again. Made him know that he fucked everything up. Made you look at him with no love or adoration but hate and denunciation. He never seen that look towards him.

Watching him stay at the door made you want to reach out. Made you want to forgive. Made you want to try. However you were tired, you felt betrayed. The memories of both you laughing in this apartment being erased into this. Tears and anger. Broken hearts. “Good I don’t wanna hear from ya again. Ya better be gone by the time I get back.” With that he slammed the door behind him.

You stood there for a moment, waiting for him to come back in. You fell to your knees placing your hands over your eyes. You sobbed you shook from all the emotion that prowled through you. You wanted this but why did it hurt so fucking much? Why did you want to chase after him? Hold him? When was the last kiss? When was the last love you?

Ghost stood outside of the door for a couple of minutes listening to your sobs. He fought the urge to go back in to hold you but you made your mind up. You were done. So he was done. Simon couldn’t fight it anymore, he can’t convince a mind that has already been made up. He stood there for a moment looking at the door before walking away.

You were never the same after that. You worked with your parents but you weren’t the same woman you were. They noticed that your demeanor was darker. Less happy.

Simon was never the same either. The team noticed his demeanor changed, he wasn’t Simon, it was Ghost. Only Ghost, he was cruel, and closed up. His heart turning right back into an icy cold one. Always would be away from everyone after missions. Burying himself into work.

Both you never saw each other again. Nor were you the same.

[thesithdiaries]

A Beast (Harwin Strong imagine)

A Beast (Harwin Strong imagine)

Pairing: Harwin Strong x female Targaryen!reader 

Requested: nope

Warnings: brief mention of offing oneself, slight misogyny if you squint, spoilers for episode 1 and 3, typical westeros bs

A/N: this is much needed happiness for what happened in the show + this was basically inspired by the preview of queen charlotte’s netflix series (bridgerton prequel) PLEASE WATCH IF YOU HAVENT. literally sent a message to @astraljedi the second i finished watching that video (she sent it to me cause i had to idea this show was even happening)

-

Despite being King Viserys first born daughter, Y/N had no intention of being a queen. Although she loved the attention, the balls, the feasts, the beautiful dresses and jewelry, and all the privileges that came with being the daughter of a king, she was not interested in ruling seven kingdoms. She found it dreadful, borderline psychotic. And sitting with the small council for hours, deciding what to do in certain situations made her feel bored. 

After Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon passed, Viserys set his eyes on Y/N. He had to find a way to keep his brother Daemon from the throne, therefore he decided his daughter would be the heir and would sit on the Iron Throne after he passed. Y/N knew he was planning this. Nobody had told her, but she did notice her father giving her looks while someone brought up there were no male heirs, citing that the Realm has been in twenty-one years of uncertainty and doubt.

“Your Grace,” a Kingsguard called, looking rather pale like he was about to faint. “Princess Y/N has requested your presence.”

Viserys looked perplexed for a second before making his way out of the room. Otto Hightower, however, was deeply annoyed. He still did not understand how the princess could order her father around.

Inside her bedchamber, Y/N sat on her desk. It was filled with history books, papers, and pens scattered all around. The door opened, revealing her father. He quickly smiled when he saw what she was doing. Y/N always showed a fascination for history.

“You called?” He cheekily asked, taking a seat next to her. His eyes scanned the table, she was reading about past kings.

“Yes. I thought about going to you but I am too tired to walk,” Y/N confessed.

“So you make me walk here?” Viserys faked a surprised face, Y/N always had the same excuse.

“I just wanted to speak to you privately,” she explained.

“Well then, speak,” Viserys softly urged her.

“I do not want to be queen.”

The air felt tense immediately at her confession. The king did not know what to answer, his mouth opening to refute her terrible idea but no words came out.

“I am not fit to rule. It is simply not me. Father, I know you have had this on your mind since you exiled uncle Daemon but I cannot accept the responsibility of being your heir.”

“My sweet girl, have you always felt this way?” He asked with concern, grabbing her hand, while she nodded. “Why did you keep this to yourself?”

“I did not want to anger you… and I also did not want you to be disappointed. Even if you keep it to yourself, I know you feel disappointed that Rhaenyra and I are not boys.”

“No no, you misjudged me. I love you and your sister. Yes, me having a son would relieve you from this burden but that does not mean I feel disappointed about my daughters. You and Rhaenyra are my biggest blessings and I will always thank your mother for giving me two amazing daughters.”

Y/N sniffled, this was the first real conversation that they had since the funeral. Her father’s words felt genuine. Viserys always made sure to be present in their lives, to show them love and affection.

“However; what am I supposed to do now t-”

“Rhaenyra can be your heir,” Y/N declared.

Viserys eyebrows rose with curiosity. “Rhaenyra? Has she spoken to you about this?”

“Honestly, no, she has not. But father, she can rule the kingdoms. Even if she does not participate, she learns from being in the small council meetings. Talk to her. She deserves being on the Iron Throne.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Viserys stood up to hug her. Y/N buried her face in his chest, feeling grateful that her father understood and did not argue about her decision.

-

They had decided to do a hunt to celebrate Aegon’s second nameday.

Y/N sat with the other ladies while she ate some sweet treats. It was mindless chatter, Alicent tried to include her in the conversation but Y/N only gave short answers to whatever they were asking about. Rhaenyra was nowhere in sight, which aggravated Y/N. Where could she possibly be? 

With nothing else to do, Y/N excused herself and left the tent. The thought of going to sleep for the rest of the day sounded blissful.

“Pardon me, Princess?” A man interrupted her thoughts. “My name is Theodore Tyrell.”

Y/N smiled politely as he handed her a fruit bowl. “I gathered that from the rose on your chest. Thank you.”

“I do not think we've been properly introduced. I never found the correct opportunity to speak with you privately.”

“Oh,” Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Here I am. A pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

“Have you ever been to Highgarden?” Theodore asked.

“Twice, yet I am too young to remember,” Y/N replied, a feeling of dread filling her heart.

“You would love it. Highgarden is filled with flowers all around. Beautiful roses climbing up walls. The sights of the roseroad and the ocean road are simply breathtaking. However, we do not have a dragonpit…”

“Why, if I may ask, do you need a dragonpit?” Y/N hissed, pushing the bowl of fruits into his hands before the anger got the best of her.

“To house dragons, of course,” he replied with a condescending tone.

Y/N turned around and stormed into the tent, marching toward her father. “Oh, sweetheart, I was just about to call for you.” Viserys' smile dropped when he realized his daughter was seething with anger. “Are you alright?”

“Lord Tyrell? That is your best choice?” Y/N barked at him. “That man could be my grandfather.”

“You are of age, Y/N. Three-and-twenty, it is time for you to marry. It has been for a while.”

“That man? I would rather throw myself from the highest tower at the Red Keep before marrying him.” Viserys' eyes widened at her threat.

“Enough! I have been trying to speak about this with you since you became of age and all you have given me have been excuses. You must marry! It is your duty, especially now that your sister is the heir.” Viserys exclaimed, capturing the attention of everyone in the tent. People were staring, some of them murmuring about the conversation between the King and his daughter. “You and your sister will marry, whether you both like it or not. That is not up for discussion.”

Princess Y/N was quietly crying out of anger and frustration. Deep down in her heart, she knew her father was right, she needed to marry. Viserys went silent, mentally scolding himself for upsetting his precious daughter.

After their heated conversation, Y/N retired to her tent for the day, stating she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. 

-

Hours later, after the king had sunk into his cups, Lord Strong decided to try his luck.

“Excuse me, Your Grace.” Lyonel stood in front of the King, at the bottom of the steps. “Can we speak for a moment?”

Viserys sighed. “Should I guess? You believe that your son, Ser Harwin “Breakbones”, the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms, is the best match for Y/N.”

Lyonel cleared his throat. “Yes sir, I believe so. My son, from what I have noticed, could be the only one that can deal with the princess. He is heir to Harrenhall, his strength and knowledge of battle will keep the princess protected. And the area is big enough to build a dragonpit.”

“Are you sure about this? Do you think my daughter will agree to this arrangement?” Viserys was unsure. Surely his daughter would not like this at all. 

“Perhaps she will try and fight it, Your Grace. They should at least meet and have a conversation, maybe that will help. We should not just send them off to wed immediately. My son would not like that either.”

Viserys hummed. “After we return to king’s Landing, I will talk to her. I suggest you do the same with your son.”

-

Days later, in the Red Keep, Y/N was actively ignoring her father. She was still hurt about how their conversation played out. She ate all her meals in her bedchamber, only leaving when she knew her father was in a small council meeting. Alicent also made attempts to get them to talk but Y/N was not interested.

During the night, she felt relaxed to go out and sneak some food from the kitchens and new books, when she was intercepted by the King.

“Y/N!” He yelled, startling her. “You cannot keep doing this. We must talk.”

She shook her head and walked faster to her chamber, but he was close behind. Y/N could not close the door before he got inside. “Father, please, leave me alone.”

“No! I am sick of this, Y/N. You will not keep avoiding me,” Viserys raged. She sighed, sitting on her bed in defeat. “You will marry, I have found you a suitor.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, only for Viserys to raise his hand to make her stop.

“This is not up for discussion. You will meet him tomorrow night.”

“Who is he?” She asked and Viserys turned around to leave. “Father! Who is he? What is his name!” 

The king had left. Y/N yelled in frustration, she hated not knowing.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, Lyonel was about to speak with Harwin. “Son, do you have a moment?”

“Of course, father. What is it?” Harwin put down the paper he was reading to focus on Lyonel.

“You are to be wed.” He blurted out. Harwin felt the air being sucked out of him. “I spoke with the king during the hunt. You are to marry princess Y/N.”

“What? The king agreed to your proposal?” He was stunned. “What did princess Y/N say?”

“She, uh… she does not know you are the suitor,” Lyonel confessed. “We think it is better like this.”

“Father, that is absurd. She must be losing her mind at the uncertainty, you know that.”

Lyonel sighed. “I know, son. As I said, you will meet her tomorrow night. The king is already planning a feast in honor of this union.” 

Harwin did not know what to think. He had not met Y/N, only saw her from a distance during the hunt. He was captivated by her beauty. He could only hope Y/N was not too upset when she found out it was him.

-

The following morning, Y/N was speaking with Rhaenyra while they ate breakfast together.

“Sister, you have to forgive father eventually,” Rhaenyra reminded her while taking a bite out of an apple.

“I know,” Y/N exhaled. “I just… I just feel that he does not care about my opinion on the matter.”

“If that were the case, you would be in Highgarden right now.”

Y/N gave her a look. “I suppose you are right. Have you heard anything about this mysterious suitor?”

“No, I am afraid I have not,” Rhaenyra confessed. “Father has been very secretive since we came back from the hunt.” Y/N covered her face with her hands, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Perhaps you will like him, he could be very handsome.”

“Or he could be a beast,” Y/N contradicted.

-

Nobody in the castle talked about the suitor. The princess has not heard not even a whisper about him. It frightened her immensely. 

The hours moved quickly and it was time for them to meet. Viserys had arranged the small hall for this. Almost everything was going according to plan, but they did not know what the princess was up to in the gardens.

Y/N was currently trying to climb up a wall using flower branches. She planned to climb up, run from the castle, and come back the following morning. It sounded easy in her head, but now that it had to be executed, Y/N found it was not so simple. On the other hand, Harwin was on his way to the hall when he saw someone with silver locks trying to escape. He chuckled, walking up to stand under an arch.

“Hello, my lady. Are you in need of any assistance?” Harwin asked, holding his hands behind his back.

“I am quite fine, thank you. You can go back inside and do whatever,” she dismissed him.

“I will. But I am curious… What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she answered.

“You are doing something,” Harwin observed.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

Y/N got down from the branch, staring at the wall. “If you must know, I am trying to ascertain the best to climb over this garden wall.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Climb? Whatever for?” Harwin wondered with an amused expression.

“I think he may be a beast.”

“A beast?” He answered in surprise. “Who are we discussing?

“That is none of your business.” The princess slightly turned to say this to him before focusing her attention on the wall, causing Harwin to take a sharp breath to calm himself. “My suitor,” he smirked. “No one will speak of him with me. He is clearly a beast.”

“Understood,” Harwin nodded.

“If I grab here, perhaps you can assist me by lifting me up,” Y/N moved her hand to get his attention, then proceeded to climb up the branches again. 

“You do not like beasts? What he looks like matters?” Harwin wondered.

“I do not care what he looks like. What I do not like is not knowing.” Harwin was right then, he told his father this. “Now, here. Just hold here, with a lift I believe I can climb up the garden wall.”

“You want me to lift you over so you may escape?” Harwin repeated what she requested, still feeling amused. “People will notice you are missing.”

“I will worry about that later. Now, please make haste.”

“I have absolutely no intention of helping you.”

Y/N got down and walked towards him. “I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help a lady in distress?”

“I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so she does not have to marry me.”

Y/N was stunned. “You? You are the man I am supposed to marry?” Her cheeks were red in embarrassment.

“I am deeply sorry if I look like a beast, princess,” Harwin teased. “I would have thought the same if I had not known it was you.”

“You,” she cleared her throat, “who are you?”

“Ser Harwin Strong,” he introduced himself while grabbing her hand to kiss it.

“Lord Strong’s son?” Y/N questioned with confusion.

“So you have heard about me,” Harwin smirked.

“If I am honest, only your name.” Y/N’s cheeks were even more flushed if that was possible. “I, umm… I will see you inside. Excuse me, Ser.”

Y/N almost ran, wanting to be away from him as soon as possible. Harwin, however, was faster. He grabbed her arm to make her stop and turn to him, bringing her close to his body. “Wait, princess.”

“This is not proper,” she stuttered.

“Neither is you trying to escape,” Harwin noted. Y/N failed to get out of his grip once again, his hold was tight but not enough to hurt.

“What must I do for you to let me go?” Y/N pouted.

“Just have a conversation with me before we go to the hall, so you can see I am not the beast you thought of,” he proposed. Y/N huffed in defeat, but deep down she was intrigued by him.

“Lead the way, Ser Harwin.”

//

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[sellensand]

The truth about the Golden Lineage

Ok sooo I've just had a MASSIVE realization about Godfrey's children with Marika and I need to share it with the Elden Ring lore community. I have no idea if anyone has already put this theory forward, but as soon as it crossed my mind I knew I had to write it down before I forgot about it.

ELDEN RING SPOILERS BELOW.

I had always kind of assumed that Godwyn the Golden was Godfrey and Marika's firstborn child. This is not stated anywhere though, it was no more than an assumption on my behalf. So I began to wonder... what if the omen twins were actually older than Godwyn? What if they were Marika's first children with Godfrey? The Crucible predates the Golden Age of the Erdtree after all...

Once again, I had always assumed that Morgott and Mohg were thrown into the sewers of Leyndell as soon as they were born, which doesn't really make any sense considering:

- They are both quite well-spoken. They don't act like they were brought up by giant slugs and rats with no contact with the outside world. They are not like the feral omens we fight in the sewers.

- They had to use special shackles in order to keep them down there. As if... they would try to escape. To go back home. Someone had to make sure they never got out.

- They brought at least one doll with them. Newborn babies don't play with dolls, children do.

- Godfrey's words towards Morgott ("It's been a long while...") and the way he holds his son's dead body imply they once knew each other. They once had some kind of relationship. And I'm inclined to believe that Morgott remembers and loves his father too: as SmoughTown points out in his latest video, the magic seal from which Godfrey's golden ghost appears is the exact same Crucible seal that Morgott uses when he "teleports". Morgott created a spectral protector of the Erdtree in the image of his father (I'm about to cry).

So, if Mo & Mo once lived in the surface, why were they shunned? Well, here comes the crazy part. Once upon a time, in the Age of the Crucible, horns, scales, wings and other beastly parts were considered sacred, divine. They were the manifestation of the power of the Tree, from which all life begins, where all life is blended together. With Godfrey being a man from the Age of the Crucible (his knights are the Crucible Knights), it is possible that his first children with Marika, Mo & Mo, were actually revered when they were born.

However, at some point, something motivated Marika to change the dogma. The conquest of the Mountaintops of the Giants gave way to the Golden Age of the Erdtree. All things Crucible were suddenly frown upon. Lord Godfrey and his warriors were exiled from the Lands Between. And the omen twins had to be forsaken.

LUCKILY the royal couple had produced another child, one more in line with the religious ideals of the new age: Godwyn, a perfectly built golden boy, without any Crucible in him. A strikingly handsome prince, with a gorgeous set of long, androginous, golden hair, who we've only seen wearing a beautifully embroidered skirt. His looks and his fashion sense always reminded me of a certain red-headed champion of the Golden Age of the Erdtree...

Has anyone else noticed that the items related to the Prince of Death require both Faith and Intelligence? I'm talking about the Prince of Death's Staff (allegedly made out of a fragment of Godwyn's corpse) and all of the Death sorceries (which said staff boosts). You know which other items also require both of those stats, right? Well, as far as I know, only Rykard's Magma sorceries and the Golden Order incantations need both Fai and Int to be used. And the Sword of Night and Flame, yes, a Carian heirloom hidden in their Manor.

HUH. I wonder what the Carian royal family and Golden Order Fundamentalism have in common... OH, I KNOW. They are both connected to Radagon, the champion who aspired to be complete by dominating both sorceries and incantations.

My point is... What if Godwyn is not Godfrey's? What if he's Radagon's? What if he was Marika's first attempt at having descendants by herself? She was devastated by Godwyn's death because he was her favorite, her perfect golden boy, a personification of the Golden Order and a living proof that she was the One True God.

Now let's have some fun with this theory. We all know about Miquella's obsession with Godwyn ("O brother, lord brother..."). Some have speculated that the statue of the older figure embracing young Miquella and Malenia in Loretta's arena in the Haligtree might be Godwyn, because it doesn't sport Marika/Radagon's signature braid and the asset is apparently flat-chested (according to Vaati's Miquella Lore video).

Did either Miquella or Godwyn know the truth? Was Godwyn particularly protective of the Empyrean twins because they were more than just his half-siblings? I honestly don't know, buy it's not hard to imagine what they felt after their older brother's murder...

I obviously don't have all the answers, but if all of the above was true, it would mean that the whole Golden Lineage is built on a lie, because the firstborn male heir of Godfrey was not only not the firstborn at all, but he was also not Godfrey's! This would be so GRRM it's insane! Even Godrick's pride and his fondness of Lion iconography becomes all the more ridiculous!

Am I going too far with this? Please let me know if I'm losing my mind over this game.

(Oh and link me to any similar theories if you know of any, because I can't be the only one crazy enough to have thought about this).