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#except I could not do art to save my life
sysig · 5 months
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Reading moodboard #84430940 (Patreon)
#Doodles#I wonder what this is in reference to lol - could be anything really!#Bit funny actually - I was reading something else in overlap at the time - a fic from another fandom though it ended up not being for me#Different authors just speak to different people! It was fun to come back to something familiar and realize Just how much I appreciate it ah#Novel and familiar! My very favourite <3 And of course it was a wonderful experience on top of that hehe ♪♫#Numbers lol - I really have done way too much age headcanon math pfft#I just love timelines! And even if the hints aren't exact they /are/ hints and I'm going to use them!!#The numbers that are established are such fun markers - and using characterization as hints towards how many years have passed! Ah! ♪#Like how it's definitely possible that Max took a two year but considering his family he was probably pushed to do a four year#There's no confirmation either way but it's just so fun to consider what they'd do based on how they're written!#These are the kind of written math problems I enjoy hehe#I was being a bit self-deprecating for that doodle actually tho lol - art mimics life and all that pfft#Also confirmation of him being a Lit Major ❤️💕💖💞💗 Small details give me big love you must understand this lol#As evidenced lol ♪ Adding to my playlist definitely didn't help it very strongly upgraded to Big Love for like a week straight lol#Terrible ♪ Couldn't stand it <3 Genuinely painful ♫#Lol - ''finding'' more - it's what had my blood on fire! I'm so grateful for mirrors#Anyone who's been following me for a while knows I have this whole thing about Legacy and what you leave behind and the internet in general#That the internet is forever except when it's not - that plenty of things get deleted or lost etc. etc. and it makes me very sad :(#So seeing that there was an in-built preservation - it only saved Some things but anything saved is precious!! It made me very happy <3#And then finishing off 💔💕 Beautifully heartbreaking ah#Even skim-reading later made me cry again! It's deeply affecting hhh#Another experience I'm so happy to be able to have ♥ Another tally on the wall haha <3
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teaandinanity · 2 years
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... someone needs to tell me not to do tarot fanart for A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler because I want to but also I am aware that that is the devil talking
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kandlewick · 22 days
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everyone awoke to malleus defeated. except for you meant to be read as platonic malleyuu but can be read as romantic.
Malleus could hardly breathe. every inhale felt like it was too small, like the air surrounding him was too thin. His lungs were empty, barren, and dry. And then he would exhale. a shaky breath. It rattled his bones and burned in his chest. As if nothing but flames raged in his insides. Before him laid a friend, a betrayed comrade, someone who put too much trust in the wrong people. You. You were asleep there, in a bed of thorns and roses, nestled deep and safe. Each petal cradled your cheek like a picture frame and you were a work of art. It all felt so clinical, so far away that Malleus could hardly tear his eyes away from your sleeping form. while constricted by vines to your familiar bed in ramshackle, no thorns pierced your skin. you knew no pain lying there. only dreams. It hardly felt real.
Malleus had made a mistake. He knew he had as soon as the blot began pouring from behind his tongue. but he couldn't stop it. the delirium. it poured out of him like a cracked glass of sand. In those fleeting moments, nothing had mattered more to him. The blot retched every single negative emotion out of his soul, bearing it for the world to bear witness to. And he was ashamed.
but you and the others had succeeded against him, saving all of your classmates and himself from the curse of eternal slumber. One by one, they all began awakening. Eyelids fluttering in the new morning sun. He awoke to the sound of laughter and cheers while he laid there on the broken floor, alone and empty and so so cold. Quietly, Malleus raised his head to thank? Curse? The Ramshackle prefect that laid beside him.
only, you remained there. asleep. too far gone and too far deep for anyone to reach out to. it was like your soul and body were separated, torn asunder. the only sign of life was your chest moving up and down from the breath that filled your lungs. At the moment, Malleus thought perhaps you were simply exhausted, with the heavy bags under your eyes and the pale complexion dusting your cheeks. Like the others, he thought that you only needed more rest. But days passed and there were still no signs of life behind those closed eyes. The teachers talked amongst themselves, unwilling or perhaps unable to offer any sort of explanation. There were talks about asking for assistance from other bodies but they were quick to be shot down. It seemed like nobody knew what to do with you. Or… your body. 
Nobody took it well.
Malleus in particular had ceased his studies, locking himself away in your room in Ramshackle. Ace and Deuce would appear on occasion, Grim in tow, but the three were quick to make themselves scarce once Malleus made it clear he was not leaving your bedside. He sat there for hours, uncaring of the passing of time as night became morning and dawn became dusk. What were mere days to a nigh immortal fae. If this was his curse, to watch the one human who befriended him and suffered for it waste away from his own folly, then so be it. Every morning, like clockwork, he sat there. Unflinching. Unmoving. Like a gargoyle. His eyes were empty and red, long dried from tears but he couldn’t drag himself away from you - he refused to even think of calling you a corpse. 
This day was like any other. He sat there beside you, his hands in his lap, the book he had foolishly planned to humor to read had been cast aside long forgotten, but for some reason the sight of you there pricked at his heart more than before. His voice came out quiet, weak from disuse, but he made an effort all the same. 
“My child of man.” he croaked, his tone heavy with shame and sadness, “I will not ask you for forgiveness.”
He took a shaky breath. Hesitantly, he reached out with a weak hand and clasped your own. The thorns around you pricked him and drew blood, but he paid no mind to it. He felt nothing. Numb. Malleus choked back tears as he pulled your hands close to his chest and against his still beating heart. He lowered his head in agony as he confessed like a convict at death’s door. “What I have done to you is unforgivable.”
He held you to him. Like if he held onto you tight enough, you wouldn’t fall even more to pieces. “You were my first true friend, my closest companion. The only one who treated me as if I was an equal…” He bit back a sob as he tried to cradle his face between his hands, desperate for your touch to once again warm his bones. But there was nothing. Only the cold. “And now I’ve lost you.”
“And not a day shall pass in the centuries that I am cursed to live will I ever forget your smile.” Then with an almost reverent touch, the prince brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. His lips stayed there, the taste of salt and skin filling his tongue, but he made no effort to move while he cried.
So far gone was he that he never noticed the batting of eyelashes, the furrowed brows, or the intake of breath. So far gone that it wasn’t until he felt your hand, tiny and weak, press against his dark hair, did he lift his head.
“Good morning, Hornton.”
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safetypinxtales · 7 months
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400 years | Azriel
summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.
words: 3.2k
warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description
notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍
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Thud.
The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either. 
But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel. 
The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks. 
“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”
Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles. 
That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries. 
“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.
Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.
It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites. 
Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.
You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy. 
The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.
It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.
“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes. 
“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about? 
“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”
The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.
“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”
Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room. 
The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic. 
Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.
“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands. 
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.
“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”
“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 
“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.
Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…
You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–
“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up. 
“Is that Rhysand?!”
At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you. 
The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord. 
You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics. 
“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!” 
The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.
And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….
“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.
The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look. 
“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.
His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.
“Oh, please.” 
The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.
“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”
Nothing?
From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.
“What? Like you can do better?” 
Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.
One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours. 
He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.
“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.” 
The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa. 
No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating. 
You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement. 
He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…
You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. 
His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours. 
“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.
You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”
With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks. 
“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away. 
With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled. 
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…
You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you. 
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him. 
Let me be your muse.
His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…
Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking. 
The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing. 
A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother. 
The reality?
Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him. 
Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.
Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment. 
You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers. 
You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.
It made it annoyingly hard to focus. 
The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped. 
“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his. 
Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”
400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes. 
“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist. 
That is a very long time.
Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl. 
“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before. 
It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong? 
You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.” 
Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat. 
Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye. 
The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes. 
It took your breath away.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head. 
His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet. 
“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.” 
That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face. 
“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.
His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.
That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.
There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you. 
So dangerously close.
He was your friend. 
Right? 
“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.” 
You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.
“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.
“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”
You froze. 
The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.
Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth. 
Azriel loved you?
Azriel loved you. 
The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his. 
The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage. 
He was everywhere.
The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible. 
You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air. 
You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest. 
“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness. 
He swallowed, “It is.”
“So is mine,” you revealed. 
“Yes, I can hear it.”
Oh. 
“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out. 
Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his. 
This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.
Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.
This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.
It was claiming.
And so you let him claim you. 
Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.
A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.
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tags: @missus-shadowsinger
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mydarlingclaudia · 1 month
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fish boy
note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. I also wrote this because I was inspired by this drawing by @sillydicejelly please go look at their art it’s very pretty! this is another summer fic because I’m not ready for summer to be over ugh. I liked writing this a lot but I did feel kinda silly towards the end
wc : 2.8k
tags : @lottiies
desc : he saves you from drowning and you come back each year, falling in love was easy. strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, I think angst (towards the end), not proofread, re2 and re4 Leon, gn!reader, au
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It started back in 1997 when you were nineteen. Your family went to the beach for a week in the summer, like you do every year. Your family had a beach house there that they’d had since before you were born, you’d been going there your whole life, you’ve never noticed anything strange. Most days were the same; go into town, window shop and buy as much ice cream you could stomach, go home and swim until you couldn’t feel your arms, roast your skin, play with your cousins, eat, sleep, repeat.
But nothing stays the same forever, sometimes that was a good thing, sometimes that was a bad thing. But this change was just… odd.
One night you were just having a hard time, you and your mom had gotten into a fight earlier in the afternoon and it had just thrown off the rest of your day. You went out that night, maybe around ten after everyone had gone to bed, the wind was harsh, the water was harsher. That didn’t stop you from jumping into the water to try and let the cold water ease your mind.
It didn’t work, though. One big, unexpected wave had toppled you over in the deep water, and before you knew it, you were gulping down salt water, unable to tell up from down.
Miraculously, you didn’t die, even though you should have. You had lost consciousness, though. You didn’t know where you were when you woke up, all you could make out was a small shore, surrounded by cliffs and overgrown weeds, no one else in sight.
Except for a boy.
He was blonde, pretty, pale, too. There was something a bit odd about his face, but you brushed it off as your bleary eyes adjusting. You don’t remember what you said to him, mostly because you didn’t even know what you were saying when you said it, but he had helped you sit up and you rested against his shoulder, one of his hands awkwardly patting your back. It felt comfy, you could ignore the ache in your body and how heavy your lungs felt and just focus on his wet skin pressed against yours.
This must have been what Eric felt like when he was saved by Ariel in The Little Mermaid.
When your eyes finally did adjust, and you got a good look at him, you realized that the oddity of his face was scales that lined his cheekbones back towards his ears, and that his ears weren’t even ears, but webbed ones, like some sort of deep sea creature. You had backed away from him, a confused expression painted on your face while a slightly pained one was etched onto his.
Your eyes hadn’t been able to focus on a single part of him, flicking between his tail, his webbed hands, the gills that lined his throat, his sea-matted hair, the blue tint that surrounded his fingers and gills, everything. You had to be dead, there was no other explanation, but his voice had been so soft when he spoke to you, that you almost wanted to scoot closer again.
“Listen I-I just- you’re- I think I hit my head.” You had sputtered out, one of your hands flying up to feel against your head for any bumps.
“I checked already, you didn’t.” The fish boy had reassured you, pushing himself closer to you.
“I-I didn’t?” Your eyes were glued to him the whole time he had moved himself closer to him, you didn’t back away this time.
“You didn’t, I promise.” You flinched when he reached up to peel your hand away from your head, making him stop for a second, those pretty blue eyes of his robed over your face for another second before he pulled your hand away.
“So-so what? What happened?” He let go of your wrist, placing both his hands down on the sand, his eyes were yet to leave yours.
“You were gonna drown.”
“A-And you saved me?” He nodded, you let out a shaky breath. “So I’m not imagining this?” He shook his head this time. “Jesus, where are we?”
“By the lighthouse,”
“The lighthouse?! That’s like, what, four miles away? Goddamn.” You groaned, that explained why no one was around.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I-I guess.” You watched as his eyes trailed down to your bare legs.
“… I’ve never met a human before.” He mumbled.
“I’ve never met a mermaid- merman- uhm, fish boy, I dunno.” He looked you dead in the eye again for a few seconds, then let out a giggle and shook his head, you had smiled at him.
You had to admit that this strange creature was kinda cute, you didn’t doubt that he could probably overpower you, but he had been gentle with you so far. He stopped laughing as you stood up, watching the way the muscles in your legs flexed.
“Shit, my families gonna be wondering where I am.” You had told him, putting your hands behind your head and pacing around in a small circle.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to take you back.” You stopped your pacing, looking back down at him and the dumb smile he had on his face.
“You are?”
“I mean… yeah? Why would I save you just to leave you stranded?” He chuckled, you huffed.
“Well, thank you.”
He was a strong swimmer, that shouldn’t have surprised you, he had helped you swim along when you got too tired to do it. You had told him to just leave you at a spot along the beach that was secluded because it’s right where ships would dock and that you’d just walk the rest of the way back home. Before you had left, he had eagerly told you his name, you told him yours. The two of you had lingered for a few seconds longer than necessary, him in the water, you on land.
You felt like thanking Leon again wouldn’t be a good enough way to show your gratitude for saving you, you didn’t really know how to properly thank him yet, but you had suggested meeting in the same place the next day shortly after sunrise. Leon bit, eagerly.
You were surprised when Leon showed up the next day. And the day after that, the next day, too, and every day after. He’d bring you shells and sand dollars, you’d bring him human treasures (coins, candy, ice cream, anything).
Leon would let you look at him, because the more you looked, the more intrigued you became with him, and he liked that feeling. You found more blue scales littered across his arms, he let you touch them. You liked his tail a lot, all the pretty blue and tan scales that shimmered in the sunlight paired with strong fins that were rough to the touch.
You could spend hours talking to Leon, and you did, your family would ask you where you were running off to, you’d just say it was a boy in town, it wasn’t really a lie. He’d ask you about all the places you’ve been to on land, you’d ask him about the ocean.
Leaving was hard. You had promised him you’d come visit again, maybe even on your own a few times a year. But you had promised Leon that you would be back the same time next year. You’d never forget how he frowned and nodded his head, asking you for another keepsake. You gave him a bracelet you bought in town.
You had the whole year to look forward to seeing Leon again. When you arrived on the beach in 1998, you were almost certain he wouldn’t show. As far as you knew, mermaids didn’t have calendars, how would he know when a year passed? On the drive up you contemplated how long a year was to them, you almost gave yourself a nosebleed thinking about it. You would just have to ask Leon.
But Leon had shown, and he showed up with a grin on his face and the best shells he had gathered over the past year.
“What do you call those?” Leon had asked you, pointing a blue finger at the overgrown wildflowers sprouting out of the hill above you and him. You looked over your shoulder, sparing a glance to the purples and yellows of the flowers that gently swayed in the wind.
“Those? Those are flowers.” You said to him, taking another cookie from the ones you had baked and brought to him, still looking at the wildflowers. You quickly learned that if given the chance, Leon would eat just about anything, especially sweets.
“They’re pretty.”
“There are prettier ones.”
“There are?” You finally look back to him, he’s only a handful of feet away from you, the cookies and other treats you brought rested on top of a stool between the two of you. Leon was laying on his stomach, forearms keeping him propped up as his eyes locked onto you, gentle waves rolling over his tail and reaching your feet, the two of you hidden away at the part of the docks no one ventured to.
“Sure, sunflowers, snapdragons, lilacs, chrysanthemums, tulips… I could go on forever.”
“… Would you bring me some?”
“Of course.”
And you did, you brought Leon as many flowers as you could carry, he was worth a pretty penny for all of these flowers. You were no expert on plants, but the night before you brought him the flowers, you took out a book at the library on them, just to know each one’s meaning so that if he asked, you’d be prepared.
Leon asked about anything he could think of, he always did. You were the same, in a way. You’d never been all that curious about the ocean until Leon came into your life.
You watched Leon with a softness in your eyes you don’t think you’ve ever even looked at a boy with when he’d twirl the flower stem between his fingers and study each individual petal, you wanted him to look at you like that.
“I wish I could take these back with me.” Leon had mumbled to you, eyes still glued to a tulip.
“Maybe you can, I don’t know how well they’ll hold up in the water, though.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” His eyes shifted from the flower in his hand up to your face, his smile dropping a tiny bit. “These are beautiful, I don’t want to just remember them.”
You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t keep everything you wanted, but you knew that you were keeping Leon as close as you could and that telling him that would be hypocritical.
“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want.” You told him before you could even finish the thought, but you meant each word. Seeing his face light back up made your heart skip a few beats in your chest.
“You will?”
“If it’ll make you happy.”
“Yeah, it would.” Leon had smiled at you, you got out of your beach chair and scooted next to him in the sand, reaching a hand out to run over his wet back before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Leon had gone stiff for a few seconds, your grip loosened on him, he took that opportunity to move and wrap his arms around your waist. He didn’t let you go for a long time.
Years came and went, your visits with Leon stayed the same. You spent most of your summer at the beach now, talking with Leon, swimming with him, eating with him, any excuse you could find to be with him, you were there.
August of 2004 is nearing its end, it’s late right now, you don’t know whether it’s before or after midnight. You’re soaked through to the bone, salt water clings to your cold skin as you lay on a beach towel. Leon is next to you, he’s never not near you when you’re at the beach.
Leon gets more and more handsome each time you see him. You’re not sure what’s going on under the surface of the water, but something has hardened him. His eyes are a bit colder, he’s gotten a bit stronger, he’s more serious about things.
You don’t think you ever really knew Leon, you liked to think you did, but he’d never be able to come into your world and you’d never be able to go into his without an oxygen tank strapped to your back. You had to settle for this.
Leon’s never mean to you, though. He still asks questions, he still brings you shells, he still loves flowers. He’s gotten more touchy, he likes your legs, you continue to like his tail.
Leon shifts beside you, rolling onto his side to face you, you do the same.
“When are you leaving?” He asks.
“I’m not sure yet.” You couldn’t stay at the beach forever, you tried to work jobs that were more lenient, but you still need to eat and have a roof to sleep under. Your family notices how you keep returning to the beach for longer periods each year, they think you’ve fallen in love. You have.
“Just be sure to say goodbye.” Leon says this each time you have to leave, you always say goodbye, you’d never just leave him without telling him you wouldn’t be back for a while. You don’t say anything as Leon sits up, reaching for a tulip from the bouquet of flowers you brought, you grab one as well.
It’s silent between the two of you, you’re picking off the petals of your flower, reciting “he loves me, he loves me not” in your head repeatedly, you haven’t done this since middle school.
“If I had legs…” Leon starts, you stop what you’re doing, pausing on a he loves me petal. “Would you take me with you?”
“Take you where?”
“Just with you. I just… I just wanna be around you for more than a few weeks.” Leon’s words both warm your heart and make it clench at the same time, you turn your attention back to your flower, picking off more petals.
“Of course I would. I’d take you anywhere you wanted.” Your eyes flick to his face, catching his smile.
“I miss you, y’know.” You stop again, he loves me not.
“I’m right here.”
“I mean when you’re gone.” Leon huffs beside you, letting his hands fall down to his lap, still holding the tulip. “I don’t like when you leave. Every single day for the past six years I’ve swam up to shore waiting for you, even when I knew you weren’t going to be there. You’re the first human I’ve ever met, I’m pretty sure you’re the kindest one out there, too. You can go anywhere you want in the world and I’d never know it. I just want to see you.”
“And I want you to come with me,” You admit with a shaky breath. “Believe me, I think about you everyday, I try and find things that I can bring to you, I try to be here more than I probably should be. If- If we were able to be around each other every waking moment, I’d spend my life with you.”
“… I don’t want to be in the sea anymore.”
“Leon, you have no idea how easy I wish it was for us.” You can feel tears pricking at your eyes, you look away from Leon, the only petal left on your tulip is he loves me.
“Would you ever move here? To the beach?”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“Then do it.” Leon meant it as a demand, but he said it so softly it sounded like he was begging. You toss your tulip to the side and look back at him, scooting closer, letting sand stick to your skin as you leave your towel.
Leon is still blonde, he’s still pretty, he’s still pale. His skin is still wet to the touch and you’ve come to love the scales plastered onto his skin, he’s not awkward when he holds you anymore, and there’s a different ache in your lungs when you’re around him that certainly isn’t you being waterlogged.
You bring a hand up to cup his face, his webbed hand closes around your wrist, leaning into your touch.
“I love you,” He murmurs against your palm, pressing a kiss to it.
“I love you, too.” You whisper to him. Leon doesn’t pull away from you, he never does until he absolutely has to. His hand slides up to latch onto yours, he holds it against his chest and leans in until his forehead is resting against yours.
“Please, say it again.”
“I love you.” You’re the one who leans in for the kiss. The summer you first met, you had found yourself laughing at the thought of kissing him because you thought he’d taste like fish. Instead, he tastes like salt water you’ve swallowed more than enough times, you’d drown in it knowing it tastes like him.
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gerec · 1 month
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Do you have fic recs for cherik exes to lovers?
Saved the best for last, Anon - exes to lovers is my absolute FAVOURITE trope!
These are some of my personal favourites; I hope you enjoy :D :D :D
symphysis by ikeracity
After Charles and Erik broke up four months ago, Charles convinced himself he'd never see Erik again. But life has a funny way of bringing people back together.
it was a yellow umbrella spring by ikeracity (series - read part 1 first!)
Three years after Charles left for Oxford, Erik discovers that Charles is coming back to New York.
Second chances are wonderful things.
Lean On Me by SpiritsFlame
Ten years ago, Charles and Erik split up, dividing their six kids between them. None of them expect them to meet at summer camp. And no one could have predicted the results.
preheat to 350 (just for you remix) by ikeracity
Charles realizes he's in love with Erik. But there's one tiny little problem: he just broke up with Erik.
Repeat Offenses by populuxe
“Prickly bits aside—hell, for the two of them, prickly bits included—it almost felt like a date. Which is stupid on multiple fronts. Grudgingly buying your ex a meal after he grudgingly bails you out of jail is obviously not a date.”
Five times Charles bailed Erik out of jail—and one time he didn’t.
melt your headaches, call it home by joshriku
Two decades later after the last time he saw Charles Xavier, Erik's children lead him right back to him.
Of course, it's never easy to look at the ex love of your life and realize you're not over them, not even in the slightest.
my heart knows your name by borninsideatornado
Once they’ve finally got him in bed, Charles works up the courage to ask if he might stay for a few days, because being rejected can’t be worse than seeing Erik in pain. But Erik only says, “I think that would be good.”
The Way I See You by kianspo
Charles is an FBI agent working white collar crimes, specializing in art theft. Erik is a master forger. It's all well and good, except no one knows that Charles and Erik used to be in love once upon a time. Years later, they meet again.
my heart knows your name by borninsideatornado
Once they’ve finally got him in bed, Charles works up the courage to ask if he might stay for a few days, because being rejected can’t be worse than seeing Erik in pain. But Erik only says, “I think that would be good.”
to put the world between us by populuxe
Erik Lehnsherr is one of the hottest actors in Hollywood: fresh off an Academy Award nomination, he’s about to star in HBO’s most anticipated show of the year. And even though online chatter about his recent string of queer roles keeps getting louder, his personal life remains personal—just as it always has, and just as his manager and publicist continue to advise.
But when he winds up at the same wedding as his college best friend, Charles Xavier—and when they quickly fall into bed together—he’s forced to revisit the past he’s been trying to get away from for years. The pull between them has always been magnetic, but so has the weight of secrecy. Can they keep from repeating the same mistakes, or will the price of the truth be too high?
Walking in a Winter Wonderland by TurtleTotem
Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.
Old Flame Burning by TurtleTotem
It's ridiculous for Charles to dread meeting the best man at his sister's wedding, just because he shares a name with Charles's ex. It's not as though it could possibly be the same Erik.
The Edge of What Doesn’t End by populuxe
When a mysterious object appears on the moon, Moira MacTaggert calls in two experts with very specific mutations to investigate.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, after years of breaking up and getting back together again, those two experts have finally broken up for good—and they’re the last people in the world who should be stuck together on a spaceship.
I need sleep like I need oxygen (I'm not admitting to missing you like crazy) by ximeria
Erik needs sleep, but since he and Charles broke up, he's not been able to get a good night's sleep.
December, Take Two by Anonymous
Charles has no problem being in the same room as his ex at Emma's holiday party. They're adults, after all.
We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven (the things you love don't last remix) by hllfire
Charles hands Erik the signed divorce papers, but Erik has changed his mind. Too late, it seems. All he can do is go forward with the divorce. A year later, Charles comes back, and Erik can't help but wanting to see him. The only problem is things don't go like Erik had planned.
Spy Games by manic_intent
Prompt: Burn Notice AU, with Erik Lehnsherr as the spy and Charles as the trigger-happy ex boyfriend. Erik is burned for unknown reasons in Mexico and wakes up in New York City. Somehow, he needs to raise $500,000, in order to find out -why-.
Best Ex Ever by 1sttimefeeling
Charles wakes up drunk on the pavement of a gas station, phone dead. He finds a payphone but can only remember one number. Erik Lehnsherr's.
The problem? They broke up two years ago.
Twice in One Lifetime by Gerec
Written for this prompt: Charles and his fiance Steve, are happily waiting for their first baby. What they are not expecting is the baby to arrive almost a month earlier and looking like a miniature copy of Charles' ex-boyfriend Erik.
It takes them a lifetime to get it right.
Years Falling Like Grains Of Sand by clarasteam
Seven years after they met and parted, Charles and Erik meet again in the most unlikely place.
Every Song I Know by clarasteam
“Erik,” Janos says wearily, “you had amazing sex with this guy. He obviously really likes you. You have, what, a month, six weeks left? You can spend it moping and hiding and worrying you're going to run into him. Or you can call him, have a good time, and figure out where you go from there.”
Erik groans. It's what he wants to do, so much it scares him.
Talk, Baby, Talk by lyonet
“Enough,” Erik said furiously. “It’s over. Let it die.”
“Be fair, sugar,” Emma said. “We made good music. It was your choice to wear magenta armour and a cape.”
Carry Me Anew (Frost & Darkholme Remix) by kianspo
While working as a model for Raven and Emma's clothing line, Erik experiences a strong attraction to his shoot partner. These things happen, except Erik has a boyfriend, who does not take this at all well.
+
linger like a tattoo kiss by ikeracity
Six months apart gives Erik a lot of time to think about what he really wants.
An absence which could not be more there by aesc
He prepared to shift another half-step over to the Current Events section (which would, of course, enrage him) when the teaser positioned by the model's left elbow caught his eye: DATING WHILE TELEPATHIC: WHY I DON'T DO IT.
Salem Center Mass by listerinezero
Erik Lehnsherr is a professional hitman and has no intention of attending his ten year high school reunion. But since he happens to have a kill lined up in the same town at the same time, he decides he may as well stop by. After all, his high school sweetheart, Charles Xavier, might be there. And it's not like he's spent the past ten years pining over Charles. Not at all.
Three wheels of cheese and a Great White by ximeria
Charles and Erik were friends with benefits in college.
They went their separate ways and 18 years later, they run into each other in New York.
The sex was never a problem back in college - and sex was all it had been. But now Erik is a divorced father and Charles has admitted to himself he needs more than just sex in a relationship. So in their usual round-about way they try to navigate becoming friends after so many years. The whole quest is aided by Raven, Edie, Wanda and Pietro (and a large number of shark jokes).
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toon-tales · 2 months
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Hiya! Ok, so, I'm here to analyze, again. But! Not a scene. I'm here to analyze the evolution of the one and only #Broppy, from the first movie. I've been planning to include the three movies and the holiday specials, but I figured I can't add that many pics in one post. I can only add ten, soooo-
Let's take it from the beginning: the first appearance for Branch.
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If you ask me, he was being rude, maybe even embarrassed Poppy in front of everyone. Yeah, I love Branch, and he's my baby and all, but dude, you shouldn't have done that, especially not in front of everyone. Like, yeah, we later know his backstory and his grandma and his brothers, but still, it's not Poppy's fault, he shouldn't have treated her like this. Sure, her believing life was all cupcakes and rainbows might have been provoking to Branch, but he's still at fault, and I think more people need to make peace with that.
Also, something I noticed, is that Branch and Poppy were close even before the events of the first movie, cause, literally everyone calls her 'Princess Poppy', except the snack pack. They just call her Poppy, and the fact that Branch also calls her Poppy just proves they were close.
Now, later, we see Branch holding Poppy's scrapbook, then staring at even more scrapbooks on the shelves. Like, cute, sure, but it's not what you feel, it's what you show, Branch.
Okay, now, this scene:
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The fact that Poppy was knocking on the rock just means she never got into Branch's bunker before. But she knows the address, so that counts. Maybe he had given it to her when they first met in case she needed something after he'd found her hurt with a broken arm or something then they became friends- I'm totally drifting from the post. Sorry about that.
Now, there are two theories:
Annnywayyyy, let's focus on the scene after:
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"Which is why I have to ask you..." she hesitated, before continuing, "will you go to Bergen town with me and save everyone?"
She hesitated! She freaking hesitated! Meaning? She probably never asked Branch to help her before. She surely had problems in her life, but she also had her friends, so I belive she always went to them whenever she was in trouble. But now those friends aren't here, which forces her to ask the person who she trusts the most after them. Branch. And, disappointedly, he refuses, because of the fear he's living in.
Moments later, Poppy surprisingly invites the entire village to Branch's bunker to keep them safe. Which was wrong of her. True, she was trying to protect everyone, but using Branch's house without his consent was wrong. Sorry. Sure, it was the safest place for now, but that still doesn't justify it. You can see he was clearly annoyed (which she loved). But I don't really blame her, just like I don't really blame Branch. They both did wrong.
Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip- hold... rightttt here:
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Ah, yes. That scene. Now, look. He showed up, because he knew there was no way Poppy could do this by herself, and he wasn't wrong. Poppy, in return, also knew he would come, because it was the third hug time by then.
"I guess we were both right." That line. It speaks volumes for their relationship, yet no one talks about it! They both look at things from different perspectives, BUT, it doesn't mean either of them is wrong.
Like when they arrived at the troll tree: "The troll tree." "Bergen town."
Or when they found out the others were still alive: "They're alive?" "And on a silver platter too. We were both right."
Please writers and artists, we need more content with this line. Add it to your fanfics/art!
Skip, skip, another skip (yes, I skipped the part where Branch tries to avoid talking about his feelings cause it's kinda... i don't know, i just don't know what to say about it. It's sorta obvious), skiiiiiip, annnndddd, right here:
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THEIR. FIRST. HUG.
My babies, oh my sweet precious babies. They've been through so much together, and finally, Branch has found it in himself to actually open up about his past (mostly).
I've spoken about this scene in more details in this post.
Now, we're going to talk about one of the most important scenes in the history of Broppy. This:
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Branch is talking. He's always used to being in the shadows, never helping anyone, and here he was, helping a Bergen. If that's not a big change, I don't know what is.
And let me tell you, not only Branch was changing in this scene. See Poppy?
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She's learning to look deeper into things, even persons. She's finally realizing that Branch, the grumpy, sarcastic troll, might not be as bad as she thought. They're both developing.
Until the rules are swapped.
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Branch is the one to find the bright side, and Poppy is the one to cover it. And you can see how disappointed he is.
"I can't wait to see the look on your face when you realize the world isn't all cupcakes and rainbows." But when it happened, Branch realized that this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want her to be like him, because this was him - a person who doesn't see the cupcakes and rainbows in life, not even in the slightest.
The way he was trying to cheer her up
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And the way she actually smiled. Poppy was still there, her happiness was inside, not gone but hidden, and Branch was trying to find it again.
Yet she didn't even notice her own colors returning. Maybe because she was focused on the change in Branch? She wasn't startled when he sang at first, she wasn't happy, just like he used to be. He didn't use to care, until later, when his feelings began to resurface again, because Poppy helped him. Just like he was doing now. Neither did he notice his colors coming back
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Aaaaaand, I think the rest doesn't really need analyzing.
Feel free to add or comment on anything.
Part two
Part three
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kingofbodyrolls · 9 months
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Taehyung fic recs 2023
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In honor of Taehyung’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Taehyung fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I haven’t read that much of Taehyung, just recently gotten into it, so the list might be short, so I’ll leave some of the fics I’m really excited to read from my ‘to read’ list 💎 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹
❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 
If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂
BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(💜) |
Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻. 
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⭐One of the Boys by @littlemisskookie // kth x f.reader // childhoodfriends!au, slice of life, bestfriends!au, neighbors!au, high school!au // 🌩️🥵🥰
📝 All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?
🗨️ Woaw! This was so incredibly good, it’s almost hard to describe, but I’ll try: it does a brilliant job at setting the story up, following oc and Taehyung since childhood, and how their friendship develops over time (and their feelings). It’s really cute and funny and with great smut at the end. Overall a brilliantly good read 💯
⭐Baby, Oh Baby by @jungkookiebus // kth x f.reader // established relationship, noneidol!au // 🥵🥰
📝 Taehyung and you have been trying for months to get pregnant; you’ve tried crazy diets, stuck to your calendar, got him to diet, but it’s all been for nothing. No matter how healthy your doctor says you are, you can’t conceive. Taehyung tries everything within his power to show you that everything is going to be okay and for one night he makes you forget all about the calendars, schedules, and all the crazy things that came with you trying to have a baby. 
🗨️ This was just really cute and loving 🥹The smut was also just ❤️‍🔥💯
⭐Baby Maker by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // marriage!au // 🥵🥰
📝 You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions.
🗨️ Aish, the smut in this 🔥Also all the dirty talk really had me going 🥵
⭐Under wraps by @jungkxook // kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // 🥵🥰
📝 There’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.
🗨️ I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU 🥵 the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built 👏🏾 I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating 🥹 the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and tae’s parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels 😂 ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) 😍 a really great fic that I’ll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come ✨ I loved it! Please go read it if you haven’t already 🥹
⭐Farmer boy, I Love You by @strawberrynamjoon // kth x f.reader // farming!au, lowkey e2l // 🥵😂
📝 Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.
🗨️ This was just utterly sweet, so fluffy 🥺 I really liked this: the way that reader and Taehyung’s friendship deepens, their friends and their banter 🥺 everything was so good, soft, sad sometimes, and just really great and funny too 🤭
⭐The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // 🥵
📝 You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.
🗨️ At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore I’ve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT 🥵 There’s a lot of banter and their mutual ‘hatred’ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing ✨
⭐Loverboy by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️
📝 After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.
🗨️ These coworkers gotta go, okay?! 😠🤣 Planting seeds of doubt in OC’s head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real ‘loverboy’ 😍 Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC 🥹 That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it ✨
⭐Hush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung // kth x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, music festival!au // 🥵
📝 Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..
🗨️ Pure gold ✨ — I don’t really have much to say, except GO READ IT.
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For all of the other lovely fics that I haven’t gotten around to read, but I’m very excited about, I’ve compiled my ‘to read’ list 🙂
‘To read’ list ⬇️
Maybe I do [series; completed] by @chateautae
Gold Rush by @ditttiii
Fanservice by @bangtanintotheroom
Trip by @daechwitatamic
The Art of Obsession by @kooktrash
Dick on the Go by @jeonggukingdom
Love me or we both go down by @gukyi
Gank Mid Lane by @kth1
Good for Me by @icedmatchatae
Something about him by @kooktrash
Love, secret Santa by @jamaisjoons
All I Want for Christmas is You by @ladyartemesia
Buzzed [series; completed] by @junqkook
I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAEHYUNG!!! 💜 🥳 🎂
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n0tamused · 3 months
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Came across House of Dragons and kinda got invested then I saw you accept Jiyan requests so now I’m kinda thinking what a mixture of the two would be like….Jiyan with his own dragon riding in Westeros…Jiyan courting you despite protests from his court…Jiyan protecting his queen from anyone that tries to hurt her or his heirs…idk I am just a causal watcher I have no clue what’s actually going on in GoT and HoD tbh
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A/n: I'm uploading this from my phone because I just can't wait to post this, so if there's formatting or grammar errors - rest assured, I'll do my best to get to it once I get on my laptop. Where do I begin though? 😭 My goodness, you couldn't have sent me a better idea than this one oml. I'm smooching you on the head istg, thank you so much for this request! And I hope you enjoy this jumbled ramble <3 I'd love to do more of this little au and I most definitely will, and for some other characters as well.
Contents: Jiyan x Reader, headcanons, you/yours, written with a F! Reader in mind, dragonrider reader and Jiyan, Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon universe, pregnancy, angst, happy ending, somewhat arranged marriage lol, tell me if there's anything else to tag.
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-War had taken many noble houses to an early grave, leaving behind nothing but ghosts and ruin over the vast lands. The ones that remained standing were either the rich or the cruel. All except one.
-Jiyan, originally hailing from Jinzhou, and belonging to no noble or rich lineage. His mother was a notorious healer, and his father had long been lost to travels and war himself.
-He had joined the battles as a young green boy alongside his mother, moving beside the long columns of soldiers in their tattered armor and ringmail. All he could do was stare at them in wonder and question - Why do they spill so much blood? For what?
-There was no looming threat of the Others coming to claim their lives, it was just them - the people and the common folk, yet they fought each other like animals for a few extra inches of land or a few extra coppers in their liege lord's pocket.
-As much as Jiyan didn't wish to engage in the art of war and bloodshed and only wanted to heal and save, it became apparent, all too soon, that the way to survival and peace was through battle. Healing will get him nowhere, and if a good commander was not put at the front, it wouldn't matter how well he healed if two in three soldiers died, even after receiving his aid.
-The war changed him, hardened his heart and fortified his mind, until the healer he once was became only a distant memory. Spear replaced herbs, and instead of the tattered medic tunic he now donned armor and ringmail. A companion also joined his side after he ran into a deep cavern for safety during one particular battle. A large unclaimed dragon, which nearly took his head off now stood at his side like a mountain, guardian him day and night and heralding the doom of his enemies with a thunderous roar and loud snap of it's wings. The dragon was a beautiful pale green, with bronze horns and amber eyes with darker lines of green running over its back. It was a beauty as much as it was a beast. Men quickly took to respect him, and it became evident Jiyan’s person hid many talents besides that for medical aid and spear holding.
-The previous commander perished, another life taken by the savage ways of war, and Jiyan was appointed as the new commander by the soldiers after he rose to the occasion - having led them to success in war, as well as safety when the odds did not favor them.
-It was during his reign as the lead commander that the lands saw the end of the war. Blood was shed, yes, but not for naught.
-Upon his return to the central city, the throne was found vacant, the king slain along with his entire council. The word of it was that they were taken unawares from the seaside, and had no ways of defense, as all the manpower was at the front lines
-Jiyan came into his rule as king at a young age, far too soon, and yet despite all the doubt he had flourished quickly. Proving himself as an able and just ruler, unlike the ones that came before, his foundation as a commander giving him good wind in the back
-The city wasn't in good condition after the war, but in the years following Jiyan had sent many commands that would aid in its rebuilding
-Slowly, but surely, the common folk started to feel the dawn of a new age - summer has finally come.
-The one thing Jiyan has gladly forgotten about was marriage. As a king, it was expected of him to take a bride to be his queen, to have heirs and to start a new lineage that would, hopefully, carry better blood instead of the hot blood that sought destruction. It wasn't something he often thought about as other duties preoccupied him day in and day out. But it was neither something he was against.. Deep in his heart he would admit a thought of his own family did make him feel…alive. But how would that family fare in these conditions? With his status? This was nothing like his small village he grew up in, so the image he once had in his mind was no longer so clear.
-His mother was a person he'd eventually seek advice from regarding such tender subjects, earning himself a laugh occasionally, as his cluelessness was rather amusing. Where other Kings misused their power and gave commands as they saw fit, Jiyan exercised caution, and even sympathy for the bride he didn't even have yet.
-Eventually, a match was arranged, between him and a lady of a higher birth. His mother had met you before he did and vouched for your good character - but Jiyan remained nervous, vowing to keep his judgment and thoughts to himself until he met you himself.
-Your journey to the city was a long one, yet you entered the long and towering palace halls like a breath of fresh air. Keeping your lady wits about yourself and keeping your courtesies with you, you had quickly rubbed off on Jiyan. The wedding was still a matter of question, as Jiyan had insisted on giving you and your family the due time to explore the city and to see whether this was truly something they wanted to go through with. His compassion was answered in kind by many gifts sent from the city they hailed from, consisting of foreign fruits and vegetables to cattle and coins and silks.
-It was endearing. And the courtship between Jiyan and (Y/n) soon began, as the former began to make moves. He preferred to do so in some amounts of privacy, as the many eyes that followed him as King were uncomfortable and he swore he could never get used to them.
-This seemed to please and comfort his bride-to-be as well, and both of them would show their true colors. It was a rare thing for a royal match to be founded in love rather than simple responsibilities to make heirs, but it wasn't unheard of either.
-What they both had in common was that they were dragon riders. (Y/n)’s dragon was a stark comparison to his own with red scales and two pairs of black horns and dark amber eyes, the underside of the dragon’s wings being a shade of yellow that looked like gold under the sunlight. It was a terrifying dragon, arguably even more scary than his own mount.
-When no one was looking, the two would go down to the Dragon Pit and take their dragons to the skies, racing over the cities with one another or going over the seas to breathe the salty air. It was an escape from duty as well. The moment their dragons took to air, all status and responsibilities remained on the ground, and only the sky was the limit to their freedom.
-Jiyan relished in this freedom like a luxurious drink he could never tire of, and your laughter was a sound like no other.
-The dragons took to liking one another as well, and would dance in the air while the pair were seated on their backs, spinning and falling, and right before the ground came too close they'd pull away and take to the skies once more.
-The commonfolk took this as a good omen. The dragons ruled the skies again, and a good King was on the throne, with a good queen soon to join him.
-Jiyan would find himself inviting (Y/n) to his chambers in early mornings to break their fast together or late dinners to share their day with one another. It was as if the two were already married. And even that wasn't too far from coming true.
-The wedding was a big event. Tables and tents were set all the way out and around the keep as well as in the big ballroom inside. Although Jiyan would've preferred to keep the celebrations a modest one, the council insisted that this occasion warranted the eyes of everyone, the joy had to be shared. This once he gave in to their requests.
-Flower petals were thrown on them as they passed by the rows of commonfolk standing at the sides of the rode, him and his Queen riding at the back of an open carriage dragged by four horses, white and elegant with plumes in their manes. Everything was near perfect and out of a fairy tale.
-King and Queen would share their dance in the ballroom once they returned from the High Sept where they got married before the priest, sharing their first kiss - something Jiyan made sure to cover and hide to the best of his abilities by pulling your veil over both of your faces.
-The celebration lasted all the way into the eerie hours of the night. And both Jiyan and you were exhausted, and upon retiring to your shared bed chamber you simply collapsed onto the plush mattress.
-That night, Jiyan fell asleep with his lover in his arms, watching your soft breaths make your chest rise and fall in slow successions, his fingertips tracing the lines of your face and the skin of your back, until he couldn't resist the urge to sleep.
-This wasn't a life Jiyan asked for…but it was one he was glad for.
-Children came later. A lovely little daughter being the first to be born of the love from the King and Queen, bearing the signature feature of you. Jiyan was beyond happy.
-During the birth of his daughter he was in the city, conducting business over a new architecture project when news arrived that his Queen had gone into labor. It is believed he had never dropped a matter as quickly as he did that day, racing back to the keep and searching for his wife.
-Despite the protests of the midwives, he responded only to you, racing to your side and giving you comfort and encouragement if nothing else, welcoming the fruit of your shared love together. It was the first time Jiyan ever cried in front of anyone else. He had delegated some more of his duties to the others in favor of having the time to spend with his newborn and you, helping you recover from the birth.
-It wasn't rare to see Jiyan roaming the dark halls in the middle of the night to visit the kitchens for food for you, bringing back foods and snacks, whatever you wished, even the weird food cravings. Hell, sometimes he'd indulge in them alongside you. Once, during your first pregnancy you requested a big honeycomb, and it just happened Jiyan felt like a sweettooth that evening as well. That ended with you sharing quite a candid moment, lips sticky with honey with a waxy feel between your teeth as you tried not to laugh at one another.
-The second pregnancy was a boy, following two years after the daughter was born, and he came with a little more trouble. The new prince was quite a big baby, and the birth left you even more exhausted. A fever soon settled within you, greatly worrying Jiyan and the entire council. You could barely hold the boy to feed him without shaking, and the fever lasted for days.
-It was the scariest time of Jiyan’s life. Any moment spent away from you plunged a dagger into his heart that twisted itself further in. It pained him. And he nearly got sick himself from worry.
-There were maids around you constantly, when he couldn't assist you it was them that took care of you. His mother was close by as well, bringing you great herbal teas and green tea cakes and broths. The time for you was a blur, filled with uncomfortable heat of your body and sticky feelings of sweat.. does it ever end?
-It was as if the whe world was plunged into depression once you fell ill. Dark clouds corresponded with Jiyan’s bitter and grieving mood, and the dragons themselves were restless. In this time, the others, outside of his kingdom, saw it fit to attack and plunder the neighboring villages and cities.
-You had recovered enough to talk, but your days were still mostly spent by sleeping and eating.
-You could vaguely remember seeing Jiyan entering your chamber, holding your son for a short while before putting him back in his crib. A concerned look pinched his brows together, you could remember, as his gaze went to you.
- “My love?... Are you alright?” He'd ask as he kneeled by the side of your bed, taking your hand in both of his and kissing the knuckles that felt like they were ablaze underneath his lips. He was dressed in all armor, a sword at his hip. Why was he leaving?.. Where?
-It all seemed like a dream, an illusion borne from your illness, but it was real. He had a duty over the kingdom, and over you. Yet it pained him no less to leave the place he was closest to you. He had entrusted your care to his mother and the maids, and he had already bid farewell to your daughter. She had clung to him like a moss clings to a tree, asking him when he'd return.
-You couldn't give a reply, staring somewhere through him.
-Has the reign of peace perished so quickly?
-His dragon waited at the Dragonpits, and the troops were already marching out of the city gates when he took to fly over them, leading them to the front lines once more.
-You recovered in the following days, finding yourself alone - not literally, as there were maids and servants all flocking to you, but Jiyan wasn't there. His Hand sat the throne instead of him. And your children had grown significantly, as if years had passed instead of several days.
-Responsibilities choked you until you began to move, throwing yourself back into work and and duty. Your son was always at your hip or breast, making up for the time lost. And your daughter was always pulling at your skirts unless she was at her lessons.
-It was a restless period, and a terrifying one. The first letter you sent to Jiyan was met with an ecstatic response, him being overjoyed you were healthy again, yet he encouraged you to rest more.
-His other letters brought bitter news of losses and bloodshed and treason, but he reassured they were holding strong. You could only believe him.
-Months passed. Months. And a letter from Jiyan was yet to come in. It worried you. This everlasting silence, it was of more concern than the sorrowful letters.
-During one evening as you sat on one of the tall balconies of the palace, overlooking the city as your son cooed in your arms, you heard a shriek. One coming from your dragon in the Dragonpits. The dragon was as restless as you, her calls weren't foreign to hear, but this time her shriek was returned by a call of another.
-Your husband's dragon flew down from the murky clouds. The green dragon roared, splitting the sound mid air, earning another roar from your own dragon.
-Jiyan has returned.
-You’re unsure how you raced so quickly down to meet him, with a babe in your arms and not properly dressed either. Appearances didn't matter. Your husband's return did. He mattered.
-And once you saw one another, nothing else could hold you back from running into eachother’s arms, the baby carefully tucked between the two of you in a protective embrace as Jiyan kissed both of your heads, pressing his forehead against yours soon after, laughter shaking his shoulders and chest.
-He was sure he could cry right now, and seeing you shed tears of joy almost encouraged him.
-Jiyan knew he'd split the world in half if it meant keeping you whole and with him.
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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httpjupiterbby · 8 months
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Swanqueen fanfics recommendations:
note: ngl i’ve been wanting for someone to ask me this. also all the recs are multi chapters… don’t get me started on how many one shots i saved or how many are in this post 😅
Every secret it keeps - Two years into emma and regina's loving marriage, emma discovers that she's somehow, impossibly, pregnant. Unfortunately, no one in this family is naive enough to believe that true love can make babies, and the swan-mills family is thrown headlong into a situation that will strain at the seams of their family– or tear them apart completely.
Dusk til dawn - what happens when the evil queen returns to a post-swan queen storybrooke? How will regina and emma's former relationship affect her pursuit of a happy ending with the savior? (warning: elements of mommy kink, ageplay/regression, and a bit of everything in between; even if you’re not into that, i would still give this one a read! it’s so good and super cute! .)
Storybrooke scandal - Regina Mills and Emma Swan have a long lasting sexual relationship with each other, but they got married along the way, however not to each other. Behind closed doors their relationship still continues, but what will happen when their respective husbands find out about their secret relationship and what will such a scandal do in the small town of storybrooke?
Making exceptions - No magic. Multi-chap. College AU: Emma Swan is a culinary arts student. Regina Mills is her English teacher.
Whispers in the night - AU: Emma's plagued by grief over the loss of her best friend. She joins a support group and meets Regina Mills. They share their heartbreaking stories and come out as friends. Can they find a way to become more than that?
Nine months to love - Regina overhears that Emma is pregnant. As the months pass, she is frequently at Emma’s place, and Emma at hers. Emma and Regina grow emotionally closer as the pregnancy goes through ups and downs. 10 chapters.
Project wingman - Regina has a secret admirer. Unknown to her, this mystery person has been standing right before her eyes all along.
We'll always have hope - “Are you saying I seduced you? “Regina frowned. “If I remember correctly, it was you that pinned me against the bed. It was you who kissed me. It was also you that pulled my panties down using your-“ Emma had messed up. She had messed up badly. There was no way she could choose between her best friend that she had been in love with for years and her husband who she just kind of tolerated. After their impromptu trip for their son's graduation, A few positive pregnancy tests changes Emma’s life forever and makes the decision for her.
Could you escort the maid? - Emma Swan is a 28 yr old aspiring writer who happens to be a professional escort. On a night out with a client Emma obtains a chance to save for her dreams when she is hired by a respected rich couple Robin and his wife Regina as their new maid.What happens when Emma soon realizes their marriage isn't as it seems and what will Robin do when he sees that she is falling for his wife
Darkness Falls - The story of how Emma and Regina discover they share true love is a rocky one. Snow White interferes stripping Emma and Henry of their will and Regina is on the run from a town that has turned on her. With few allies, how will the Queen restore her family and what will be the fall out of Snow's magical manipulations?
Bridges of storybrooke county - Based on the plot of the movie/novel 'The Bridges of Madison County'. Regina is a married and unsatisfied housewife living on an Iowa farm, Emma is a globetrotting photojournalist. Their fateful meeting begins a love affair neither of them is ready for. (And if you want to know whether Francesca gets out of the damn truck this time? You'll have to read the whole story.)
The choices we make - Would you give up the love of your life in name of a dream? Emma Swan and Ruby Lucas have a hard decision ahead and this will change their lives completely, and everyone around them.
What we could of had - Emma breaks up with her high school sweetheart, Regina out of the blue.Ten years later, Regina gets a visit by two adorable kids claiming to be hers.
Someone will remember us - On day one of her junior year at Boston College, Emma makes a fool out of herself in front of the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. She tries not to dwell on it, though – after all, it’s not like the woman is going to end up teaching one of her classes.
A date with destiny - Regina Mills is a 35 year old, rich business woman who is also a virgin. Emma Swan is a 28 year old friend and roommate of fellow business man Robin Locksley and works for Killian Jones. Regina's assistant is tired off suffering from the backlash of her boss's stress and decides to set her up on a blind date with Robin but he can't show and so sends Emma instead.
Circumstance - Emma is an owner of a renowned Fitness Club called Swan Fitness and is also a grad student seeking a Master's in Counseling. Regina is one of Emma's professors and soon to be a member of her club. Will they allow their circumstance to prevent their feelings from evolving? Or will they fight to have their chance at their happy-ending? (TW!!!!)
Indecent Proposal - Emma Swan, a single mother, struggling to pay for her son's medical visits along as his medication, gets more than she bargains for when she meets Regina Mills. New York's bachelorette billionaire who offers her the solution to all her money problems: 2 million dollars and a signed contract stating her companionship for an entire year. One year, where anything could come into play.
Miss Swan goes to storybrooke - Regina Mills is running an underdog mayoral campaign when her hapless partner in crime, Neal Cassidy Gold, hires his new girlfriend to be a part of it. It's hate at first sight. Emma Swan is infuriatingly attractive, infuriatingly competent, and– most infuriatingly– will absolutely bring down their entire campaign if Regina doesn't get rid of her first.
Hi, i'm calling to answer your craigslist ad - Emma, Just like every 18-year-old foster kid, just aged out of the system. With nowhere to go, Emma searches Craigslist's Ads in hopes that she may find a job. While Browsing the "live-in housekeeper" section Emma comes across a post titled: "Seeking Live-in Pet/housekeeper". Starts off as OutlawQueen, ends with SwanQueen.
Chronicles of eris - After bringing back Marian from the past, Emma is left to deal with the consequences and repercussions of that decision. Two months of silent treatment from Regina is enough to push Emma completely over the edge. Together she and Ruby jump into a portal to the Enchanted Forest in order to figure out where they belong in the world.
To woo the queen - Emma Swan finally confesses her love for Regina Mills but as soon as she does, Regina pulls away. If it was just a casual fling Emma wanted, Regina thought she could have done with just that, but an admission of love and feelings scares Regina. Will Emma be able to woo her lady love and change her mind?
Bridges - Emma Swan has always run from everything and everyone; make no connections and no one can hurt you. But one night, something stops her from running. She meets Regina standing at the edge of a bridge, and everything changes. Major TW for suicide, depression, rape/non-con, abortion, child abuse, baby conceived by rape
The Girlfriend Experience - Emma Swan is a successful soccer star who was born with a dick. Regina Mills is the escort she hires to give her the 'Girlfriend Experience' but it turns into more. Little does Emma know, Regina is actually a victim of Mr Gold's sex slavery trade. What will they have to risk to be together? Smutty G!P! (last time i read this, it was still getting updated..)
What have you done - Regina is not speaking to Emma over Marian's sudden appearance. Emma decides she's had enough. Set at the end of Season 3, before things got "frozen." The beginnings of Swan Queen. So what started out as a simple one-shot, expanded and will continue for four chapters.
Lawyer vs. love - Regina Mills is a hard-ass lawyer from New York. Her life is nothing more than work until one day she meets Emma Swan, a barista with a troubled past. But, when a jealous ex comes to town, everything seems compromised and when Emma is sent away she asks Regina to do something that seems impossible.
A moment of truth - After Emma and Regina finally confess their feelings for each other, the dam breaks. This is the story of discovering their love for each and realizing that it had been there all along. This story is low on the angst but high on the feels and does contain plenty of magical sex.
Safe in the arms of love - Storybrooke AU. After an attack, Regina is forced to confront a past she spent her life burying. Can Emma help her find her way back before the darkness threatens to consume her? SQ ending. Trigger Warnings: Rape, assault, child abuse, violence, sexual content, stalkin
Group therapy - Emma Swan meets Regina Mills in group therapy. Contains potentially triggering content such as self-harm, drug use, and discussion of eating disorders. SwanQueen.
One touch - Emma is in therapy, and Regina Mills is her therapist. Eventually SwanQueen. Warning: this story contains mature themes that may be triggering to some individuals. Please read with caution !!!!!!!
In sickness and in health - As if being in an accident wasn't enough, now she's being told she's forgotten the last 3 years of her life? And in those 3 years, she got married...to her? Just great.
Bait and switch - Henry Mills is sick and tired of his mother’s skating around the truth and not realizing that they are perfect for each other and that they belong together. So he has a plan to bring them together and convinces his grandmother to help.
Broken together - After experiencing a great loss, Emma leans on Regina for support. Can she get through this with the help of Regina and Henry? (TW!!!!) (will squeeze the fuck out of your heart)
One more try - Emma and Regina are having relationship issues. (this will eat your heart out!)
Reservation for ms. mills - Senior Henry Mills tries to set up his daughter Regina and Emma because he thinks they'll be perfect for each other. One way or another. (major romcom vibes !!)
Out - Regina breaks up with Robin after returning from the NY road trip. She begins to question her sexuality and decides to test the waters with a familiar face in town. Emma’s jealously rages and Killian is confused. Some Red Queen. Mostly Swan Queen.
Lost time - Emma gets accidentally sucked into a portal to a realm where time works a little differently and when she comes back she's got a little surprise with her. (crazy shit. read it.)
Love undefined - It’s been eight years since the last time Regina and Emma saw each other, eight years since Emma lost part of her happiness, her family, and everything fell apart. But she hasn’t forgotten those three years in New York, or any of what Regina had brought into her life. And if she can be honest with herself, she might even admit that she wants it back.
What’s wrong with emma swan? - Since Emma's return from the Underworld she is a shadow of her former self. Snow seeks Regina's help to get to the bottom of what's wrong with Emma. When Regina discovers the truth their lives are destined to change forever. An unexplained pregnancy and their evolving relationship leads to a future that neither of them saw coming.
A million tiny little things - emma swan doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d leave in charge of your kids, but somehow she’s landed the job of nannying the mayor’s son. no matter her rebellious streak, she’s more than a little concerned that she’s breaking the cardinal rule of nannydom: do not, do not, start sleeping with your employer. swan queen romcom au.
The staircase - Regina could still smell her cologne and feel the cheap pleather pressing into her back. The brunette sucked in a breath. She was still lying on the floor at the staircase's base and she stared back up at it. Everything was different now. Changed. She felt broken by what had just happened, appalled and enraged, dirty. (TW!!!! very very fucking dark. probably the first dark fic i’ve ever read)
Villains don’t get happy endings - It had been her sacrifice—the price she had to pay. Save everyone she had cursed for 28 years while simultaneously losing the one person she loved the most. Villains, after all, didn't get a Happy Ending. That was reserved for Princesses and Saviors. A 'what if' story where it's Regina, not Hook, who visits Emma in NYC at the beginning of 3B.
Miles to go - Everyone has their own story, this one is theirs and it paints the picture of a love story that spans over two decades, with all the ups and downs and everything else in between. (so fucking amazing!!)
Little match girl - Emergency circumstances lead Emma to move in with Regina and Henry, and the unexpected attraction between the two women stresses their current relationships. At the same time, someone is targeting Storybrooke's children with deadly consequences. (TW!)
The story - Takes place after 3x22. After everything they've been through... After everything that was said between them Robin leaves Regina for Marian and Emma is there to pick up the pieces. Swan Queen Angst and Romance
Oops - Emma and Regina get together at the mansion after they break up with Hook and Robin. Obviously, they get drunk and well...things happen. After one night of pure passion what will happen between the mayor and the sheriff when that night changes their lives, and their relationship, forever.
Skinny love - What are you going on about?" Regina swallowed harshly, really looking at the only person she has been able to bare her soul to. "You don't want me anymore because you found somebody else. Somebody better." Emma looked blankly at Regina. (a-fucking-mazing)
Memento Mori - Regina rejects Emma to stay with Robin after they've slept together. Emma winds up pregnant and tries to win the Mayor back. When the pregnancy is revealed, Snowing forces Emma to Underworld to save who they believe is the baby's father. The Underworld could prove fatal for Emma and her baby. Will they survive or will Regina lose her chance at having true love forever? (the fucking best- i’ve been looking for this..)
Crazy changes - A chance encounter in a bar changes Emma Swan's life forever. One of those changes is the arrival of Regina Mills in her small town. But there's more to the newcomer than meets the eye and when Emma finds out the truth behind a family feud, she must re-evaluate everything she thought she knew.
For endings are where we begin - Regina Mills is your average working mom - she spends long hours at her bakery, loves her son Henry with all that she is, and can touch dead things and bring them back to life. Emma Swan is an orphan, an ex-convict, and a bailbondsperson residing in Massachusetts. She is also currently dead. This is the story of how they meet. [a Pushing Daisies AU]
Forget me not - Tired of feeling heartbroken after Robin's death, Regina takes a Forgetting Potion to eradicate all memories of her True Love. However, things don't go to plan as she can still remember Robin, but has no idea who the blonde sheriff, who goes by the name of 'Emma Swan', is.
Direct and linear relationships - Emma Swan is a barely 17 year old senior. She just has to worry about getting through the year, but a new Physics teacher might make her last year in high school much more interesting.
A single kiss - Emma is only a teenager when she falls madly and irrevocably in love with Regina Mills. She is convinced that Regina is "The One" for her, but it's a love that cannot be. At least not at the time. When Emma returns home years later will they finally find love and a happy ending?
Flu love’s kiss - Magic returns to Storybrooke bringing back magical illnesses as well. 'Love Flu' is going around and it's catching. Swan Queen.
Temporary Distractions - It's been a month and Regina won't speak to her, until she does and Emma is left pretending to be in a relationship with her so that Regina can get through a dinner invitation with her pride intact.
Not going anywhere - Emma’s life was finally starting to come together. She has her parents. Her bond with her son growing. Regina’s walls have slowly started to fall, their friendship blossoming. This doesn't settle well with a select few townspeople that believe there is no hope for The Evil Queen, so they kidnap Emma. They will make her see things their way at any cost. Emma is found beaten and left for dead with no memory of who she is. The ones that took her still at large, Emma is left in the care of the only one who can truly protect her and the only person she allows near her. (tw!)
Reckless abandon - After Regina and Emma spend a night together, Emma is left to deal with the fall out, and a life-altering event, all alone as Regina changes her mind and decides Emma is not what she wants, after all. Will Regina realize what she's done before it's too late? Angst and Swan Queen. (the fucking best!!!!!!)
Casual sex - Emma and Regina begin to have nothing but casual sex diving head on into a friends with benefits, well more so enemies with benefits what will happen when one or both begin to start actually feeling something for each other.
Lattes & lace - Regina's a successful, focused businesswoman running a burgeoning lingerie line that is just starting to gain international attention. Until one winter, an irritating woman opens up a coffee shop next to her studio... and generates constant distractions. But not all of the distractions are a complete disaster. Only few.
Take a chance on me - As Emma recovers at the mansion from an encounter with Storybooke's latest threat, nightmares start to plague her from the trauma she suffered as a child. As Regina comforts her, the women grow ever closer. When Regina is attacked, Emma vows to do everything she can to protect the now terrified and vulnerable mayor.
Teacher’s pet - Emma Swan is starting her senior year this year and she's got a pretty easy schedule. But as her friends tell her about the Creative Writing teacher and how no one has passed her class with an A, what will she do? And who exactly is this 'bitch' as they claim her to be? Swan Queen-Student/Teacher AU
The reason why - Emma Swan never stopped wondering why she left without a word, not even a goodbye. She was used to being left behind and abandoned but when Miss Mills her favorite teacher/mentor of three years disappeared without explanation it still stung. Now over ten years later and a chance run in she might finally find out the reason why.
The crush teacher - Emma Swan's life was easy. She was constantly hanging out with her friends and was dating the most beautiful boys at school. But everything changes when a new teacher starts teaching her at school. Feelings and sensations that Emma had never felt before begin to appear.
A fortunate mistake - After Emma and Regina share a night of passion and a morning of misunderstandings sprinkled with some amnesia, Emma ends up getting married to Hook. But when Emma realizes she’s pregnant, their worlds get turned upside down. With Regina’s unwavering support and Emma slowly piecing her memories together, will their love prevail?
I’ll be home for christmas (with my fake girlfriend) - When her girlfriend dumps her the week before Christmas, Regina Mills needs a date to placate her mother’s insistent badgering. Emma Swan, who’s never really spent Christmas with an actual family, steps up to the plate. Throw in a very pregnant woman, her two children, and a Christmas Eve party? Emma and Regina experience a Christmas weekend they won’t soon forget.
You again - Emma and Regina have known each other since they were kids, and it's amazing how they just can't stand each other.
Has anybody ever told you - After a night on the tequila Emma Swan drunkenly causes mayhem in Granny’s leading to a few home truths for our Madame Mayor.
The rain came pouring down - Emma and Regina have spent the past year working on Operation Mongoose. Emma has fallen in love with Regina and is sure Regina loves her back... until a surprise shows up from the recent past.
A date to remember - AU. Regina is a very successful architect who runs her own company in NYC. She has no time nor need for love. Although, to spice things a little, she allows herself to indulge in a date per person, in order to get some action – no strings attached. Would she change her own rules after meeting a beautiful blonde? Swan Queen (No!Magic)
A month and a half of wednesdays - 40 weeks is ten months not nine... They have it all wrong.Emma spends every Wednesday night at the mills Manor, and has made a little discovery after one wild Wonderful Day with The Mayor.
Waking up - Emma wakes up in the hospital with no memory of her life in Storybrooke with her family. When she sees Regina, though, she suddenly feels a connection between the two of them and feels like she knows her. But how?
Always & forever - Regina Mills is a 34 year old widow who lost her husband Daniel just 4 years after they married. Not only has she lost Daniel but she's lost her 4 year old son as well; Henry. Before their sudden deaths she saw herself as the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. Now that the two people that she's loved most are gone she's afraid that whoever she ends up meeting next will vanish from her life forever. Now to avoid that pain again she's completely shut everything and everyone around her out. Family included.
Pixie dust never lies - A revealed secret, a broken heart, and a stormy night lead Regina and Emma on a path of self-discovery. In the end, they will have to make a choice that will shape their lives forever.
A new perspective - Regina disowns her mother and moves to London. Cora takes Emma under her wing and cultivates a business and a personal relationship. Regina and Emma meet after Cora's death and the fireworks start!! Slow burn SwanQueen and SwanQueen Family. Don't worry, dears, our ladies are alive and kicking through the entire story!!
There goes the neighborhood - SQ AU: Emma Swan has recently relocated to a neighborhood just outside of Quantico, VA after the death of her husband (Neal). She and her twin adopted daughters are just trying to find happiness again. Meanwhile, her new neighbors Robin & Regina Mills have a less than happy household. The women clash from the start, but through a marital betrayal the two women begin to see each other in a whole new light.
Stolen darkness - What started with a dream had revealed to Emma who she really was, upon the confessions of the Charmings' past sins, Emma embarks on a journey of self discovery. Dark Swan, Maleficent, and Swanqueen.
Mirror, mirror. - Emma is working her side-job as a mover when she finds the mirror, shattered in the back of a wardrobe. She takes it home, drawn to it for some reason. Regina finds the mirror in the back of her mother's old wardrobe. It was once broken and put away in a time of duress. Yet the mirror she is holding looks as good as new. When Regina speaks into the mirror one night, Emma answers.
Shadow Haven - Emma Swan is a PR agent who is sent on a holiday by her boss. Regina Mills is the owner of a private island named Shadow Haven. There is more to Regina than initially meets the eye. Swan Queen romance / BDSM story.
Feather of a swan - Emma Swan also ended up cursed in Hyperion Heights. With absolutely no memories of Storybrooke, she gets by working as a bounty hounter. After a particular long day, she just longs for a drink, and goes into Roni's Bar to get just that. But after she meets the bartender, nothing wil be the same again.
In it together - After both Hook and Robin are killed (and Hook doesn't come back in my story!), Emma and Regina grow closer. At first it's about getting each other through the grieving process, but eventually it turns into a much deeper connection.
—-
authors:
@ hunnyfresh | ao3
@ devje | ao3
@LZClotho (LZielinsky) | ao3
@LunaCeMore | ao3
@ClashofShips | ao3
@Z_OTAKU19 | ao3
@ starsthatburn | ao3
@ emmasyellowbug | ao3
@JuiceCup | ao3
@AshKnight | ao3
@Ash M. Knight | fanfic.net
@IShipLOVE | fanfic.net
@ angstbot | ao3
@rhysMerilot | ao3
@XSerendipity92X | fanfic.net
@AnotherEvilRegal | fanfic.net
@Nasty Nikolo | fanfic.net
@Gravity In the Air | fanfic.net
@PlayfulMay | ao3
@LittleSwanLover | ao3
@AOBZ | ao3
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doctorofmagic · 6 months
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Doctor Strange's disability: a (much needed) chronological review
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In view of recent ableism and drama on the other social hellsite involving Doctor Strange's disability, here's my response, based on *CANON* material. (link to the thread on said hellsite here)
Stephen disability is established since 1963, back in Strange Tales #115. The story is focused on a flashback which portrays his journey from the decay of his medical career because of a car accident to his path towards the mystic arts.
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Note that, in this very same issue, the Ancient One never says he would heal Stephen's *hands*, but perhaps Stephen would find the cure within. In other words, Stephen was supposed to heal his heart and soul from arrogance and egoism through magic, not a physical cure.
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Also note that there are limitations within every aspect of comic books' universes. In this case, we're talking about magic. Magic is not a miracle thing. It demands training and, most recently as established by v4, a cost (Doctor Strange v4 #4).
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Another clue that "magic can heal anything because it's fantasy" is not a valid argument within Marvel's magic world, as seen in The Oath. Stephen had access to the Otkid's Elixir, which could heal any disease, but the formula was lost in order to save Wong's life.
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One last example comes from Spider-Man Family #5 (2007), featuring Morbius and Spidey. It establishes that healing demands the exact same price when it comes to magic.
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Long story short, it's clear that the magic side of Marvel does not offer a solution to diseases through magical miracles. So this argument is totally invalid ~within~ this established universe.
Now back to Doctor Strange... No, he isn't using magic to heal his hands unlike some misleading accounts are claiming. In fact, there are several panels which show that he's actually in constant pain. Here's some examples:
- Doctor Strange - Sorcerer Supreme #48 (1992).
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- Captain Marvel v10 #6 (2019)
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- Doctor Strange v4 #1 (2015)
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He also struggles to hold a pen and write, relying on magic to do so, as seen in the Book of the Vishanti.
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Then comes the stupid argument I saw.
"Oh, but Google says his hands are healed!" is not a gotcha moment you think it is. We had FOUR MAIN BOOKS after that (Surgeon Supreme, DODS, Strange v3 and current v6). Allow me to clarify the details in chronological order.
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Stephen indeed made a "magic" gamble and healed his hands. That much is correct. But it's not all (panels from Doctor Strange v5 #19 - 2019).
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Waid continued this storyline in a new book called Dr. Strange (Surgeon Supreme), which would portray Stephen's duality as the Sorcerer Supreme and a brilliant surgeon. Except the book was cancelled at issue #6 (2020), leaving the character in a kind of limbo. Now enter MacKay.
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MacKay kept a little bit of the former storyline as seen in Death of the Doctor Strange #1 (2021). On top of that, his hands appeared healed. However, that lasted only until Kaecilius murdered Stephen and stole his hands.
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Stephen's temporal duplicate used a regenerative spell to bring original Stephen back through Kaecilius' body and the stolen hands. In here, we can see that his hands are scarred just like after the car accident (DODS #5 - 2022). OG Stephen died a second time with scars as well.
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Stephen is indeed seen writing in v6 but it's not clear if he's using magic or not. Besides, he's not working as a surgeon anymore. Moreover, MacKay considers Stephen disabled as seen in this recent issue of v6 (#7 - 2023): "My own connection to the aether, the magic of the world, the power of the Vishanti, the power of the Sorcerer Supreme... Gone. Without all of that? I am just an old man with useless hands and a blade in his stomach."
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In conclusion,
As of CURRENT DOCTOR STRANGE RUN by Jed MacKay and Pasqual Ferry, in the year of our lord Vishanti, 2024, Stephen Strange is a disabled character and no magic or ableism will erase that. Thank you very much.
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gghostwriter · 2 months
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Poison Me, I’m Fine
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Spencer Reid x Songwriter!Fem!Reader
Summary: Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process
Warning: angst with no happy ending
A/n: I feel insane for writing this in one sitting and not editing it. There's no part 2 for this, I just wanted to purge myself of this angst plot that took over me. This is probably the closest I could write to a singer-songwriter reader x spencer, granted she just writes for other pop stars (maybe I'll write some popstar!reader next time idk yet.) Also, 'Free Now by Gracie Abrams' and 'The Black Dog by Taylor Swift' was on repeat when I wrote this so you can spot some inspiration from both here. Hope you like it!
Main masterlist
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You don’t know why you settled for less. Why you opted to walk on a blurry tight rope, why you chose a crumbling place to land on, and why you chose to enter a situationship that will end in heartbreak. Actually, scratch that, you do know why. Spencer Reid, that was enough reason for you to put yourself on the line. Or it was until your treacherous, greedy heart wanted more. 
Does she follow like an echo? Like your shadow, you can try, but you can't run
It started with hushed whispers. Your mind slowly poisoning itself with what ifs and scenarios where he was fully yours, just like how he unknowingly owned you—mind, body, and soul. Whispers of—wouldn’t it be nice to visit this museum again with Spencer or he’d love this newly opened vintage bookstore around the block or it’d be nice to see the stars with him right now. You tried to cleanse those thoughts away but that’s the thing, poison that has entered your bloodstream is hard to remove. 
It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time It's a shame that I memorized your outline
It morphed to vivid imagery next—hallucinations so life-like that you found yourself believing it half of the time. Portraits of him and you holding hands as you both walked down the streets, phantom outlines of you together swaying close to muted music, and shadows of you and him twisting in bedsheets. All untrue, except for the latter. You attempt to blink them all away with no success. Your heart reluctant to part with the delusion than face the truth—that he had only offered you his body and nothing else.
Every page that I wrote, you were on it Feel you deep in my bones, you're the current
It seeped out of you next—to your writings, to your works as if your body was doing its best to reject the poison away. To save itself from the nearing death that seemed inevitable in the end. Your poetry, your lyrics, and your art all contain entangled webs of metaphors and colors that lead back to him. Purple streaks on your canvas to represent his favorite, his beloved authors mentioned in your verses, and symbolisms of his career scattered all over—cuffs, guns, shot and everything in between. You tried to pour it all out of you, the dark and sticky emotion of despair and longing covering you and all extensions of you. Everyone noticed the change. The dimming of lights in your eyes and the shadows that threaten to swallow you whole. Everyone noticed—your family, friends, colleagues, and even the pop stars that buy your singles. Everyone except for the one that could save you, Spencer. 
It turned into screams next. It was as if your body gathered all its remaining strength to shout for help or to howl in pain, you’re not sure really. All you’re sure of was that the end was near. The end was coming to free you from everything—from him. The trigger was overhearing him discuss you with his friend and male co-worker during a run-in in his apartment where he had no choice but to introduce you. Six months of pseudo dating him and no one knew you existed.
You excused yourself to the bathroom, wanting to escape the tension emitting from the situation and when you came back, that’s when you heard it. The lethal blow to your already dying heart.
“She seems nice,” his friend, Morgan, commented.
Spencer shrugged. “She’s no Maeve—not as deep but she’s—she’s safe.”
You bit your lip, trying to stop it from quivering lest you whimper out loud the pain his words has caused you.
Donning on a fake smile on your face, you watched as Morgan left with a wave goodbye to you and a casual ‘see you again.’ Not like that would ever come true.
Within seconds, you felt your mask cracking as tears slowly trickled down your face.
“I love you.”
They say the truth sets us free but not this truth. All it did was crash, burn, and pulverize your already precarious stacks of sticks that represent you and him. 
Silence.
“You know, when we first started this—whatever this is—I promised to myself that I wouldn’t fall for you. That this was purely physical, sex,” you sardonically laughed. “But you know what I realized, that you were easy to fall in love with. So easy that I found myself ruined even before I could comprehend where and when it happened.”
“We agreed, didn’t we? That we would tell the truth and stop when feelings are starting to get involved. Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You roughly swiped away the tears. “I didn’t know when it happened, Spencer! I thought if I stuck it out long enough, you’d feel something for me too! But that was foolish of me to believe. I see it now.” 
“See what?” 
You walked towards him, invading his personal space. The same way he did with yours. “That you’re not ready. Honestly I’d prefer if my opponent was standing in front of me. At least I could gauge if I had the chance to win. But with her, she’s gone, Spencer—” you jabbed your pointy finger on his chest, where his heart was. “I’m fighting with a ghost who I can’t even land a hit on. A ghost who haunts your every waking and dreaming moment. Tell me, Spencer, how do I compete with that—when I feel there’s little to no space for me. I exist only in between and in your limbo when you’re craving for a physical companion. How do I win, Spencer? Tell me or should I just throw in the towel?” 
“Y/N—”
His eyes contained the answer and although it wasn’t what you were wishing for, it was what you subconsciously knew you needed to free you. 
You nodded your head. “I guess—I guess this is it, huh. End of the line for us.” 
“I guess so.” 
You gathered your coat, haphazardly strewn on the floor—just like the pieces of your shattered heart and as you stepped out of his threshold, you gave yourself one last chance to memorize his outlines.
“Goodbye, Spencer.” 
And finally, the poison had killed you and had set you free. 
If you feel like fallin', catch me on the way down Never been less empty, all I feel is free now
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santaasi · 6 months
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DANCE WITH ME
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pairing: jj maybank x dancer!fem!reader
summary: jj maybank loves the sea, the sandy beach of north carolina and the warm sun. new york is the exact opposite of all this. and he hates it. but she... she changes everything.
warnings: new york au, fluff, slight angst (as usual), but happy ending, miscommunication trope, a little use of y/n, some language, english is not my first language
word count: 5.9k
a/n: first of all, thank u all for supporting my first two works here. I rly couldn’t have expected so much love and support from all of u, but i appreciate it. secondly, I can't write summaries, so i think it sounds kinda shitty. thirdly, it was supposed to be a small blurb, but I was carried away and I couldn't stop. and fourthly, I listened to Slaves - Body on Fire and Katy Perry - Wide Awake while writing this oneshot, so I advise everyone to do the same.
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The huge theater hall of the New York School of the Fine Arts was getting more crowded and noisier by the second. People dressed in ridiculously posh suits, as if they had come to a reception at Buckingham Palace, took their seats and from time to time looked askance at the two guys sitting in one of the front rows.
In particular, all those present, as it seemed to JJ himself, looked at him with special disapproval interest. Compared to this bunch of rich bastards who had nothing to do on Thursday night except watch their ‘creatively gifted’ children jumping around the stage in tutus, he looked like a black sheep in his dark jeans, a white T-shirt with unwashed ketchup stains and a cap on. He looked like a total looser, who had missed his shift at a godforsaken restaurant in the Bronx only to watch his best friend’s new girlfriend performance, while everyone around him was showing off their wealth and position. Showing JJ his place.
JJ Maybank had no place in this money-rotten world. And he knew it perfectly well.
And why was he sitting here then?
Just as simple as it is. Because of John Booker Routledge. JJ Maybank adored his best friend. No, not best friend. JJ Maybank adored his brother, John B., who saved him from an abusive and alcoholic father, allowing him to move into his small flat in the Bronx and gave him a chance to make a fresh start.
John B. Routledge was always there for JJ. They spent all the happy and sad moments together, supporting and helping each other. And Maybank, in gratitude for everything, was ready to do anything for John B. Absolutely anything.
That's why he was now sitting in a maroon-upholstered theater chair, waiting for the start of a ballet performance in which John B's new girlfriend, Sarah, had the main role, and felt all these rich jerks staring at him. And it annoyed him.
He was annoyed by all these vain idiots and how they always looked down on guys like John and J, who had to literally fight for their lives in this huge city, while those rich bastards were drinking prosecco on the veranda of their Soho estate.
He was annoyed by the kids of these jerks who studied at these luxurious art schools, a semester in which cost so much that JJ could live happily on this money for five years or even more.
He was annoyed by whole this situation, which literally screamed: “Look at us! We have a lot of money that we spend on stupid school performances, so that our kids would think they're talented.”
JJ Maybank was not envious. It was just that he, a man who had worked his whole life in order not to starve, did not perceive all this creative entertainments as something serious at all. He didn't go to theaters, operas, ballets and the like. For him, it was stupid shows to launder money from these rich peeps. And JJ wouldn't be sitting in this chair waiting for the play to start if it wasn't for John B. John B., who needed his support in this fashionable enemy lair.
Exhaling irritably, catching another look of disgust from some elderly lady in furs, J took off his cap and ran fingers through his blond hair, turning to John B., who was looking at the curtains and tapping his feet on the floor.
“I'm going to take a leak and smoke, okay, John?" JJ patted him on the shoulder before getting up from his seat and heading out of the hall. John just nodded without taking his eyes off the stage.
This guy was obsessed with Sarah. And it's not that JJ didn't understand what his best mate found in a pretty blonde girl, it's just... it's just that Maybank never thought that John B would be all lovey-dovey with some chick that was completely out of his league. Although Routledge always had freer views in this rich/poor hierarchy, while JJ was sure that all the kids born with a golden spoon in their mouths were stuck up bitches not worth his attention.
Of course, Sarah Cameron proved the opposite. As they would say in North Carolina, she was kook on the outside, but a true pogue in her heart. But, as Maybank believed, this was a one-in-a-million exception.
JJ was walking along a bright corridor, trying to find the exit, when he caught a barely audible melodie. The guy followed the sound, looking through the glass in the slightly ajar door leading to a bright, spacious ballroom with large panoramic windows and ballet bars. In the middle of the sunset-drenched hall stood a young girl, who sometimes came with Sarah to hang out with John and JJ, but he never paid enough attention to her.
More precisely, she was too out of reach for a guy like JJ, to pay her attention that he wanted to. She was kind, sincere, her smile could light up, it seemed, the whole world. She always laughed at his jokes, even the dumbest ones. The mere touch of her fingers on his skin made JJ burn as if he were being immersed in a flaming cauldron of hell.
She was incredibly smart, funny and breathtakingly beautiful. Just the sight of her in a small summer dress made everything in front of his eyes fade, leaving only her. She was too perfect in his eyes, like an angel descending from heaven to torment him, JJ Maybank, showing him what he could never have. Making him hate his position and his life. Making him envious of these dumb rich assholes. Because she was too good for a bad guy like JJ Maybank.
And now, looking at her fragile frame, watching the elegant swings of her hands, perfectly honed movements and the flight of her hair from each new spin, JJ's heart in the chest was treacherously squeezed with delight. His breathing, as well as time, stopped, and it seemed to the guy as if the world had stopped too, leaving only her in his field of vision. Neat facial features, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, gaze concentrated on the mirror, but as if looking into another dimension. She looked beautiful, flawless... No, she looked divine.
JJ didn't know how long he had been standing in the hallway looking at Sarah Cameron's friend. But as soon as the music ended, and she ran her hand over her hot face, pushing back the hair stuck to her skin. As soon as she raised a bottle of water to her lips taking a couple of sips. And as soon as her gaze fell on the guy on the other side of the door. Maybank immediately came out of his entranced state, feeling caught and ashamed.
Turning around on his heels, JJ walked swiftly to the exit, still feeling his heart beating in his chest at breakneck speed, and her gentle image rises before his eyes. A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin. And again the hand is in the air. Jump… Spin… The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand…
The cold February wind hit him in the face and without even thinking, the guy lit a cigarette, looking into the void.
He hated New York and the cold of the city. He missed North Carolina. Kildare with its warm sun and sandy beaches. The smell of the sea, the sound of waves and surfing…
Why is he even thinking about the Outer Banks now, three years after he left without even once looking back…?
JJ Maybank did not return to that room full of these loaded bastards, steeped in luxury and affectation. Instead, he lowered his head and got to their shared apartment on the outskirts of the Bronx, where the rats and the crazy granny neighbor who was always bothering him for nothing were waiting for him.
But for the first time in three years, JJ Maybank didn't care about any of this. He was still standing in that hallway. He looked through the glass at the sunlit room.
A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin.
And again. Her hand is in the air... Jump… Spin…
The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand… And her light smile, like the warm sun of Kildare…
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JJ Maybank fell in love.
If someone had told him six months ago that his heart would beat a thousand beats per minute just by looking at her, or that when talking to her, he would not be able to find more than one suitable word and would only stand and watch her giggle softly at his reaction... He would have laughed in the man's face. Because JJ Maybank doesn't fall in love. He spends one night with a girl and forgets about her in the morning. He takes napkins with numbers he will never call and throws them in the nearest trash can.
JJ Maybank is not made for relationships. He does not get attached and cannot love. But for some reason, he feels differently with her.
JJ Maybank fell in love.
And if six months ago he would have been told that he would work two shifts to buy himself a white dress shirt and a pair of decent trousers just to sit in a maroon velvet armchair among rich pompous bastards and watch her dance on stage... Watch how she transforms in her dance, becoming even more beautiful... Watch her every move, every curve of her body and the soft rise of her hands just to catch the smallest changes on her flawless face…
And then, meet her in the hall with a bouquet of her favorite tulips in his hands, for which he borrowed money from John B., just to see her smile like Kildare's sun and hear her laugh that reminds him of waves crashing on the shore.
JJ Maybank fell head over heels in love with her.
And it was obvious to everyone as a clear day.
John B. saw his friend's pupils turn into two big throbbing hearts when he saw her. John B. saw how JJ, who had always been confident around the girls, turned into a small helpless puppy who could not utter a single word as soon as she appeared next to him. John B. noticed how his best friend's life changed dramatically with the arrival of her in JJ's life.
JJ Maybank's life, which previously consisted only of home, work and a couple of weekend parties, now consisted only of work and meetings with her after which he went back to work.
Sarah wasn't blind to the changes in JJ's behavior either. The first time she saw him on the steps of the NYAFA, she thought that something had happened to John B., but when she realized that Maybank was not waiting for her, but for her friend, everything immediately fell into place. JJ's frequent appearance at performances at the academy, even when John B. did not go to them, the flowers that changed every three days in their shared with Y/N house, his questions about her best friend's preferences and many other things finally made sense.
Therefore, at her birthday party, Sarah decided to be a wingman and do everything possible to connect loving hearts. After all, Cameron did not escape the reactions from Y/N, who too often began to ask questions about JJ, who began to devote more time to her appearance and blushed every time Sarah mentioned only the name of the blonde.
Now JJ was sitting at a table in the Cameron's house backyard in Soho, which was decorated with sparkling lights in honor of the birthday girl, and stirring a glass of brandy in his hand. His gaze was once again focused only on her, dancing with Sarah on an improvised dance floor to some Latin music. The skirt of her white dress was like sea foam rising and falling with her every movement, and her ringing laughter made his heart skip a beat. During the four months of his addiction to her, it became a habitual body reaction for him.
JJ chuckled as he drained the rest of the brandy before lifting his head and meeting her glittering, emerald-like eyes. Her cheeks were red and her lips stretched into a wide smile. The guy saw how her chest quickly fell and rose after active dancing. The girl tilted her head slightly, bringing a red cup with drink to her lips before sitting down next to Maybank.
“Are you enjoying the party, Jay?" the girl teased. Her velvety voice carried like an electric current through his body before Maybank turned his head in her direction.
“Rather enjoying the view,” JJ grinned, winking at her, making the poor girl blush. She giggled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.
“I'm serious, by the way. You look tired,” the girl murmured and a line appeared between her brows. “And lately, I- I rarely see you.”
JJ's heart skipped a beat at the thought that she was worried about him and a corners of his mouth lifted. He sat closure to her, putting his hand on the back of her chair, looking straight into her doe-eyes. The girl felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs by the very sight of that self-confident grin and the look into those deep blue eyes. J's hand softly touched her cheek as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The girl sucked in a loud breath and involuntarily leaned into his touch.
“You shouldn't bother that pretty little head of yours with worries about me, princess,” the guy whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself.”
“And what if I want to take care of you...” the girl said in a barely audible voice, swallowing a lump in her throat.
She could feel her heart about to burst out when JJ slightly closed the distance between them. His lips were unbearably close to hers and she felt his hot breath burning her skin, and his hand continued to gently stroke her cheek. She had never wanted to kiss someone so much in her life.
For the past four months, all she could think about was the guy who came to her every performance when even her parents weren't there. The guy who meets her every night from rehearsals and asks her about her day. The guy who gives her his hoodie when she gets cold. The guy who brings her a bouquet of her favorite tulips every three days and leaves cute notes inside that she keeps in a shoe box under the bed.
Before JJ Maybank, all her thoughts were occupied only with dancing, which she lived and breathed, rehearsals, preparations for concerts and dreams of Broadway.
Now everything that surrounded her: a fresh bouquet of tulips in the kitchen, a blue hoodie with the smell of the sea in her closet, notes in a box under her bed and even the music she danced to - reminds her of him. She thinks about JJ when she wakes up and when she fall asleep. When she's dancing, when she's choosing music for a new performance, when she's walking, when she's reading, when she's resting. She thinks about JJ Maybank, about his light soft disheveled hair, about his blue eyes in which she could drown, about the smell of the salty sea that seemed to soak into his skin, constantly.
And now that he was so close to her, when he touched her face and looked at her with such tenderness, all she wanted to do was pull him closer and kiss him. But instead she swallowed, barely breaking away from him as Sarah's voice shattered their little vacuum world. Maybank cursed softly, running his hand through his hair before looking back at the girl who had already got up from her seat, preparing to head towards Sarah.
“Will you dance with me when I'm done with her?" A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she turned around halfway, looking hopefully at the guy.
JJ was taken aback. He wanted to agree. He wanted to say that he would be happy to dance with her, but... but he couldn't dance. And he was ashamed to admit it to someone for whom dancing was hers whole life. And he didn't want their first dance to be a complete failure just because he was a fool who couldn't move his bear paws and didn't know where to put his hands and how to behave properly and…
“Mhm. I'm already leaving. I have a night shift, so… Maybe another time?” the guy said distantly and shrugged, getting up from his chair.
Meeting her gaze, which literally screamed disappointment and that his answer hurt her, J immediately regretted his words and wanted to return them, but it was too late. The girl faked a smile and nodded.
“Then... maybe... another time? See ya, Jay,” she said finally and disappeared into the crowd, trying to suppress the tears that are starting to fill her eyes.
"Yeah… next time," the guy echoed, watching her move further away from him.
JJ Maybank was head over heels in love.
And even though he wasn't a genius before, he was a complete fool now.
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Three weeks later, her dreams and her heart were broken. Three weeks after Sarah's birthday, she realized that all of JJ's feelings for her were just her own delusions.
At first, they just started seeing each other less often. He no longer met her after rehearsals, as he took extra shifts at work, but still sent her flowers every three days. He messaged her every day asking how her day was and how she was feeling, told her funny stories from work on their evenings phone calls and everything seemed fine. But after two weeks, all their communication came to naught. She offered to meet a couple of times, but JJ refused, saying that he had a job and as soon as his co-worker will recover from his unexpected illness, they would definitely meet.
And she believed him. And waited.
Until one day she saw JJ Maybank with a cup of coffee in his hand, strolling down Lexington Avenue smiling at a dark-haired girl, so beautiful as if she had stepped off the cover of vogue magazine when, according to him, he was supposed to be at work.
And at that moment, her whole world seemed to collapse.
She knew that she had no rights to the guy, that he had promised her nothing. And she understood perfectly well that they were not in a relationship, and that in fact he could spend his time with anyone. But her heart beat painfully in her chest from the realization that all those sweet and meaningful moments with him were now just nothing.
All those notes, flowers, late-night calls and conversations, that almost kiss - were now nothing and it broke her heart.
But the worst thing about this situation was the realization that instead of talking, JJ just decided to ignore her and ghost her, coming up with stupid excuses not to see her.
Maybe she did something wrong? Or maybe some of her words hurt him? Or was she too clingy? A lot of questions were spinning in the girl's head, but all she could do was lock herself in her room and cry, glad that Sarah had gone to her family for a couple of days. She didn't want to discuss this topic with anyone, not even with her best friend.
From that day on, she stopped texting JJ in the morning and calling in the evenings when she returned from rehearsals. She stopped opening the door to the courier, who continued to bring her flowers from him. And she hid his hoodie, smelling of the sea, away in the closet. She cut JJ Maybank out of her life, devoting herself to dancing, shutting herself off from the world around her.
At first, JJ did not notice that the girl had pulled away from him, immersed in her business and work.
More precisely, he noticed that she no longer wrote or called him after training, but for the first three days he attributed it to her busy schedule. Maybank remembered that she had mentioned preparing for an audition for a Broadway troupe, and thought that was what she was doing. But when he hadn't heard from her for a week, he got worried.
To tell the truth, JJ has been restless all week. He was so used to her presence in his life, to her morning messages that gave him energy for the whole day, to her evening calls and laughter on the phone that made his soul feel better, that the absence of these small moments felt like emptiness. Like a black corridor with no exit.
And JJ started writing to her himself, but he didn't get a reply. Then he started calling her, but all the calls were forwarded to the voicemail. He went to the academy, but he never saw her. And eventually he met Sarah, who was also completely unaware.
“Since I came from my parents, she hasn't been herself,” Sarah admitted, biting her lip, frowning slightly. “She hardly talks to me, she's always rehearsing, and it's like she's dropped out of life. I do not know what's wrong with her, JJ.”
Because of the whole situation, JJ Maybank couldn't live fully.
He continued to write to her, call her, even wrote letters by hand, as in those romantic films that she loved so much, throwing them under her door, but he never received an answer. Not a single response in a month.
He had been living without her in his life for a whole fucking month, and if before he was sure that he was in love with her, now JJ Maybank was a thousand percent sure that he loved her to the point of insanity and physical pain.
He wanted to hear her laugh every day. He wanted to wake up and see her smile and sparkling eyes first. He wanted to listen to her endless chatter about her favorite actors, singers and dancers. He wanted to watch her dance, watch how her soul seemed to rise somewhere higher, to where he had no access. He wanted to watch her laugh, blush, cry, be sad or angry for the rest of his life.
JJ Maybank wanted to spend his whole life with her. Because she is life itself. She is the ocean, the sound of waves, wet sand and warm sun. She's Kildare. She's his home.
And JJ Maybank wasn't going to give up on that. Not today. Not now. Never.
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The sun had long sunk below the horizon. It was raining like hell, and even if JJ had an umbrella, it definitely wouldn't have saved him. No one could hide from the spring rains of New York.
JJ was standing under a tree near the entrance to the Academy of Fine Arts, waiting for her.
Today, JJ will solve all their problems and confess his feelings to her. No matter the weather, no matter her mood, or even the meteor shower, he will do everything to make her listen to him. And if after that she decides that she doesn't want to see him, then he will leave her life forever. But if, for once in his life, luck would be on his side, and she reciprocates, then... then he will never let her go.
The big front door opened and Y/N walked out of the building, lifting her head up, looking at the sky. JJ froze for a second, watching as she lifted her backpack over her head and walked down the marble steps so beautiful and elegant. He hadn't seen her for almost a month and a half, and now that she was so close to him, all thoughts and intentions left his head. And just like the first time they met, he could only look at her and enjoy the view. But as soon as her foot hit the sidewalk and she headed for the bus stop, JJ came out of his hiding place calling her name.
The girl stopped halfway, slowly looking over her shoulder at the blond man approaching her. The world stopped around her in a second. She felt her knees ready to buckle, and her heart began to beat a painfully familiar accelerated rhythm. But before her feelings could fully grasp her again, the girl pulled herself together and turned away, swiftly walking away from him.
“No, wait! We need to talk!" JJ shouted through the noise of the rain, starting to run, catching her by the forearm and turning her towards him. The girl's eyes widened when his hand touched the bare skin of her forearm and her whole body felt like it was on fire.
“Let me go,” she said coldly, and JJ was a little taken aback, but did not let go of her hands, shaking his head negatively. He won't leave until he's sorted it out. He needed answers. And he needed her even more.
“I won't let you go until you tell me what's the matter with you"
The girl stared at the guy in shock, and then laughed out loud, throwing her head back, lowering the bag, as her hand was tired of holding it over her head. Raindrops immediately began to roll down her face and hair, drenching her to the skin in a second.
“Are you serious? What's the matter? You tell me what's the matter, JJ! Tired of your new doll and you decided to come back to me again, huh?”
Her eyes sparkled with the fire of anger, burning a hole in the uncomprehending JJ. She was furious and it was the first time he had seen her like this and did not understand what he had done to arouse such reaction in her. Her bag fell to the sidewalk and she came closer, lifting her head a little higher, looking straight into his eyes.
“What? Did you also play with her, made her feel needed, desired, and then dumped her? Yeah, Maybank? Did you do the same to her?”
She pulled her hand out of his grasp and pushed her palms into his chest. The guy staggered, but remained standing in place, frowning, watching her eyes fill with tears. Or was it just the rain?
“Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me! Did you do the same to her as you did to me?" The girl roared in his face, pushing him in the chest once more before taking a step back, shaking her head.
She turned away for a couple of seconds, gathering her thoughts. JJ heard her sniffle and felt his heart clench with pain. He didn't understand what she was angry about, who she was talking about and what she wanted him to say. Maybank wanted to pull her closer to him and calm her down, to tell her that everything would be fine and that they could work it out, but he was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening and couldn't even move.
“You know, I believed that you really liked me. I believed that for the first time in my life, someone liked me, and not Sarah or one of my friends, but you...” she sniffled again, wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I-I really believed you… Why didn't you tell me you weren't interested in me? Why didn't you say you didn't want to talk to me? Why did you make up excuses that you were working or-”
“Excuses? I was really working. I took extra shifts and I-” finally realizing the reality of the situation, JJ began to speak, but she immediately interrupted him, throwing a look full of pain and resentment.
“I saw you and that girl coming out of the coffee shop together when you said you were going to work!" She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, running her fingers through her dump hair.
JJ rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what she meant, which girl she was talking about, until he remembered Brittany, his dance coach. He signed up for dance classes a month ago. Was it really all because of that? Was she ignoring him because she thought he was just having fun with her? No, no, she couldn't have thought that.…
“Hey, hey, no, it's all not what it seems,” the guy shook his head, taking a step forward, reaching for her hands, removing them from her face, squeezing them in his own.
His eyes scanned her face. The mascara flowed from moisture and tears, the eyes were slightly reddened, and the nose was swollen. And JJ looked at her again. Not understanding why she would even think that he would like someone like Brittany when she was all he could dream of. His hands cupped her face and with his thumbs he gently wiped away the black marks under her eyes. A soft sob escaped her lips and a fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks. He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, swallowing, breathing heavily.
“The truth is... that Brittany girl... she's my dance teacher,” JJ whispered and looked into her eyes, which were looking at him questioningly. She looked like a little lost child and he chuckled softly.
“That night, at Sarah's birthday party, when you asked me to dance…" J closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He hoped that he would never have to admit it, and that his dancing lessons would remain a secret, but she had to know the truth so as not to consider him the jerk who played with her feelings. JJ didn't want her to think that of him. “I refused because I can't dance. And I was... I was ashamed. Dancing is your whole life and I would just embarrass myself in front of you… And you'd think I was some kind of fool...”
“But I-I would never have th-thought that,” the girl whispered softly. J opened his eyes, caught her sincere gaze and smiled. God, what a fool he was.
“That's right, but I... I was an insecure jerk, princess,” the guy admitted, grinning, tucking a wet curl behind her ear. “I'm… It all happened so fast and I... I never saw myself catching these feelings. I never asked for help or needed the healing. And I decided to take these damn dance classes for you... and I didn't want you to find out because I... because I'm a complete idiot, apparently,” the guy laughed softly, shaking his head.
JJ let go of her face and took a couple of steps back, giving her time to process everything he said. He could feel his heart beating wildly against the walls of his chest while she stood and was silent, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Listen, Princess. I know I should have told you and all that earlier, but I... God, you're driving me crazy, you know? I can't think, speak, or breathe when you're around. I'm head over heels in love with you, angel” Maybank ran his fingers through the hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I can't stop the way that this felt. It keeps coming round and round and round and back again”
She looked at him in silence, feeling as if the heart that she had broken herself was beginning to heal from his words. And she wanted to cry how stupid she had been to believe that JJ was playing with her. While he was taking dance lessons so as not to look like a fool in front of her… She knew he didn't like dancing, but for her sake he went to classes to learn. For her sake, he stepped over himself a bunch of times, worked overtime and did everything to make her happy, and she just...
A loud sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears blurring her eyes. Her legs buckled and she almost fell to the ground, but JJ quickly picked her up, hugging her to him.
“I'm sorry, Jay! I'm so so so sorry, I was such a fool! I-I-I didn't mean to! I-I-didn't know,” the girl whimpered into his chest, clinging to his soaked T-shirt. His free hand slowly stroked her wet hair while his other hand held her on her feet.
“Shhh… Everything's fine now, right? We'll figure it out and everything will be fine,” the guy whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her head. “You believe me, don't you?”
The girl raised her head looking at his calm face, on which raindrops were running, at his wet hair and soft smile, and her soul felt so warm, as if in a second she was at home in the warmth next to the fireplace with a warm mug of tea in her hands, and not standing under the cold pouring rain in the middle of the street. Her hand slowly soared into the air and removed the bangs that stuck to his forehead before nodding in agreement.
JJ's gaze swept over her soft features. First the eyes, then the pink cheeks and plump lips that he wanted to kiss so much. The guy exhaled, raising his eyes again, looking into hers.
“Will you dance with me?” He whispered hoarsely, without taking his eyes off her, holding out his hand.
She smiled, and it seemed to him that this smile could light up the whole world if the sun ever went out. She gently placed her hand in his palm, and put the other on his shoulder. JJ squeezed her hand, pulling her closer by the waist, so that he felt every cell of her body and took the first hesitant step, which she followed without even thinking.
Her gaze was focused on his eyes, blue as two oceans, in which she was drowning more and more with each new step of the dance. For the first time, she didn't think about what move she should make next, or what position to stand in to look good on stage, or about getting to the beat of the music. For the first time in a long time, she danced just for herself, as she felt and as she wanted, completely trusting in the hands of JJ Maybank. He with trepidation and tenderness whirled her around in a dance on the ever-hurrying streets of New York, which at that moment stopped their run. Leaving only her, JJ and their dance in this vast world.
“I think love you, JJ,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes, feeling a lump rise in her throat from excitement. Maybank stopped holding her in his arms, studying her face carefully before saying hoarsely, “Say it again".
“I love you,” she said on an exhale, and as soon as these words were uttered for the second time, Maybank pulled her face closer and kissed her. Gently. No rush. Like he haven't kissed anyone else before her. Trying to feel every emotion to the fullest.
The New York's rain comes pouring down, not even thinking to stop. And JJ Maybank didn't like the New York's rain. He didn't like New York and the people who live here. He disliked theater, ballet and dancing.
But JJ Maybank loved the sea, the sun and sandy beaches. He also loved surfing and Kildare, which he had to leave three years ago. He loved his home, which was thousands of miles from New York.
Y/N Y/L loved New York with its weather and people. She lived by dancing and dreamed of performing on Broadway and had never been to North Carolina. But despite this, JJ Maybank saw her as his home: the waves of the sea in her laughter, the sandy beaches in her eyes and the warmth of the sun in her smile.
And next to her, it turned out that New York and North Carolina were not so different, and that his home would never be a thousand miles away. And from now on, It will always stay next to him, in his arms, on his lips, in his heart.
Because now JJ Maybank knew that his home had never been a place. It's always been a person. And it's her.
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that’s my first such loooong oneshot here so, i’m a little nervous to post it. but i rly hope it came out good n not too boring.
I will be glad to receive any feedback. a comment, like or reblog always pleases that little writer’s heart of mine.
but, nevertheless, thankx for reading <3
– your santi ✨
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libraford · 1 year
Note
Have you shared the story of you joining the track team with us? I feel like you have but I can't remember any details.
I SHALL TELL YOU A TALE OF PURE FOLLY!
The year us 1999, I am in seventh grade. Like most seventh-graders, I hate everything that I am forced to do but I especially hate Pep Rallies. They are hell for my tiny little social outcast ADHD brain: loud noises, forced enjoyment of an activity, sports, pointless interaction with people I can't stand, and the potential for relentless bullying afterwards.
So we had a pep rally.
And I, for the first time in my rules-following life, decided to skip.
My class filed into the gym, I ducked into the bathroom, and waited for the sound of the doors closing.
Problem was that I didn't think I'd get this far and I've never been in the habit of delinquency, so I had no idea what to do next. I started wandering the halls just a little bit, testing out the freedom of having broken the rules, going down hallways that weren't part of my routine...
...when I heard dogs barking.
You see...
...the pep rallies weren't exactly about basketball. The pep rallies were an excuse to make lots of noise so no one heard the police dogs when they came looking for drugs in people's lockers.
And I am not where I'm supposed to be. I am where NO ONE is supposed to be. And I panic, because if I show up to the pep rally late they are going to notice.
I did not think this through.
So I start looking for somewhere to be while the police are searching for worse criminals than myself and I see a bunch of students in the cafeteria. One of them is a friend of mine, so I wouldn't be completely out of place in this location, so I came in and sat down next to her. A roster is being passed around and I sign it so that I can say that I was accounted for during the pep rally in some way.
The teacher who is heading whatever this is stands up in front of this group and says:
"Thank you for coming to the track and field tryouts. You've all made it in."
Uh...
...woops.
I think I'll just sit through this one meet and then quit. People do it all the time, I don't think anyone would notice.
Except that this is a small town and everyone knows everyone- so the teacher/coach helpfully informed my father that I'd joined the track team voluntarily and in no way was it a mistake of any kind.
My whole family is sports nuts. My dad was in charge of the sports page at the news paper, my mom will talk excitedly about college football, and my brother has excelled in every sport he's ever been in.
I'm a textbook case of Not That. Art student, lead violist, and the most exercise I get is dodging projectile rocks on my way home from school.
But my dad is SO proud of me when he hears about it. Lee is doing a Sport? A Sport that's physical? A Sport with a team? A SPORT!
Like... he bought me new shoes and stuff to clean the shoes with and all kinds of first aid stuff for my muscle pains and oh my god for the first time in his life I was in a SPORT!
(Just to emphasize- he has always been PROUD of me. He thought I was a genius because I showed him how to make chocolate dipped strawberries at home without a fondue pot like... he's pretty sure I'm going to save the world somehow. But this was the first time that I had ever shown even the smallest bit of interest in doing a Sport, which is HIS special interest and now we can BOND!)
So I try.
You know... I hate running.
I actually have a condition caused by a childhood illness that impacts cartilage development as well as asthma from a bronchial infection when I was in 5th grade.
But my dad came to all of the track meets that he could and I was so deep into the lie that quitting now would break him.
So I try my hand at non-running events: shot put and discus. I'd still have to run during practice, but I was allowed to go off and do Not Running for a little bit.
I can't remember the actual numbers or anything, but I remember that when I first did shot put with proper form, the coach kind of turned her head sideways and said 'damn.'
So turned out that being at the roly-poly stage of my larval development meant that I was still learning how my personal body chemistry affects the build of muscle. The answer is 'very quickly.'
It starts getting hard to find shirts that will fit my biceps and now I'm in trouble for wearing non-standard issue tank tops to school from practicing shot and discus.
If this were a movie, it would mean that suddenly being a jock meant that I had been accepted by my peers and something something Mean Girls something something. But no, because having incredible muscle as a thirteen year old did not do anything to disspell the rumors that I was a lesbian and unfortunately I was still bullied relentlessly. Nor did I ever throw a punch because I don't like hurting people and no one ever taught me how to fight. But it did mean that I had a handful of girls ready to use teeth and nails to defend the shot put champion.
Which is important because I was the ONLY shot put and discus thrower in the school.
And as I found out- the district.
I went almost an entire season without competing against a single person, winning the event by default.
Until the semi-finals.
And I did have to compete against an assortment of other thirteen year olds that were just now learning that they had upper body strength. But because they ALSO were the only ones competing in those events they had never competed against another person either.
So we all sucked.
I got gold in shot put. Bronze in discus. But to their credit there were only three competitors.
Huge fucking deal for my dad.
Not a huge deal for the rest of the track team, who all did really poorly in most events BUT throwing events, which meant that this was our last game of the season.
And so ended my short, accidental career as the middle school shot put champion.
"Did you try out again in 8th grade?"
Fuck no. I hate running.
833 notes · View notes
alicerosejensen · 7 months
Text
Another you
Warning: reader mutation (c-virus), angst, blood, slight aggression, acquired albinism, fem/reader (not an agent, an ordinary civilian who worked at the museum), Leon has plot armor, more narration than dialogue, the text contains an antagonist like Simmons (male character), Ada is helping Leon again, relatively happy ending.
Synopsis: You didn’t want to change, you loved him, just as he loved you, but against your will, your love turned into hatred and animal anger towards him. However, Leon still hopes that you will remember him...
A/N: This is probably my biggest work. Tumblr told me to fuck off a few times while editing, but I came out victorious in the fight, although I had to re-write the text into the draft a few times because Tumblr for some damn reason published it without my knowledge. I hope feedback if anyone liked it, because I have been burning with this idea for a long time!
The text also contains an excerpt from Byron's poems (I adore him)
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He promised himself first of all that nothing would happen to you. That his work won't affect you in any way and you won't get hit by the corporate bastards, and you really didn't. However, something else happened...
But people whom Leon loves or simply cares about tend to leave or even die.
Everything was fine with you. Ideal in his imperfect life and you were this perfection that he valued and protected. A prudent person would not keep an expensive diamond in front of everyone, so Leon did not scatter information about you and who you are to him. You were loved and dear to him more than all the treasures of the world, he appreciated your tenderness towards him and kindness, because it was you who helped him get out of the hole of despondency in which he buried himself. His personal little guardian angel. Still, he has something to continue his fight against bioterrorism.
A normal working day, except that the museum where you work was supposed to host an exhibition of some very expensive collection for which you were so carefully preparing, forgetting about yourself. It seemed to Leon that you were burning with enthusiasm and love for the work you were doing, which made you walk around too excited, forgetting about food, so he had to remind you to eat. This exhibition had no meaning for Kennedy, but he did not belittle your efforts thrown into this preparation, especially since you were so happy that you were incessantly talking about all these paintings, historical activities depicted on them and objects: a pendant with a strand of hair of some queen - you explained to him that this is a symbol of affection that was previously used It's like you're giving a piece of yourself to your giver, a kind of connection with a loved one, but this is just one of the meanings of such a peculiar gift. Silk fans, a clock, a desk, some items of clothing that, in Leon's opinion, were very strange and he was just glad that fashion had moved far ahead.
Although he could interpret all this in one word: beautifully.
And you were beautiful too. He would have liked to spend more time with you, but you were completely absorbed in your work, and he was overwhelmed with paperwork that he couldn't stand, but anyway, at least he could come back to you and listen to excited speeches and new facts that he didn't know anything about and would hardly remember if he told him about it someone else.
And everything went to hell when there was another outbreak, less global, but most importantly - human lives. And yours.
He was trying to save you, even if someone else had survived this exhibition, he would still have saved you first and not someone else. Mini Raccoon City, that's what he called it, making his way with you to the emergency exit while you kept up with him on your heels, because today you were supposed to shine and glow and not cry with fear looking at the pale corpses of history and art lovers. The light from Leon's flashlight illuminated a small part of the space while you walked quietly thinking about Leon's words, "I wonder how much time we have before they get up?"
"Were they poisoned?" you assumed, because how could you kill such a huge number of people without weapons. Leon, watching the ventilation grilles in the rooms, suggested in his head only one quick way.
"It must be gas,"
But then you would both have died too, you decided, but you did not voice your thought, because shortly before the tragedy you were invited to discuss something by the sponsor of this exhibition. A man who managed to collect so many magnificent things with a rich history. The man who gave you flowers and flirted with you from the day you first met, despite the fact that you made it clear to him that you were not interested in any relationship with him, except for work.
However, Leon also remained silent when he saw the luxurious bouquet of scarlet roses on your work table, which filled your entire small office with their aroma. But right now that simply wasn’t the main thing. He needed to get you out of the mess that happened, and then ask about flowers from rich strangers.
You walked slowly, trying not to make any noise or cry behind him while you clung to his jacket, partially managing to wonder why Leon's gun was with him when he had no reason to carry a gun. All this, of course, was secondary, given how stress, coupled with imagination, turned the exhibits into various frightening figures that frightened, made you scream, thinking that the fallen armor, which was probably simply poorly secured to the stand was another dead man. I didn’t even want to think about what happened in the exhibition hall, much less imagine. Leon had to take you by the hand and at times drag you along with him because the panic really aggravated everything, he was afraid that you would start to go hysterical, but it seems that despite the periodic stupor, you kept yourself well under control, exactly until the moment when Leon’s flashlight went out, leaving you in pitch darkness.
“Leon?” you called out anxiously, feeling noisy ragged breathing behind your back. Was this what Leon was talking about? Until recently, you hoped that his words were just another stupid joke and the dead do not rise, but here behind you is the living embodiment of a nightmare who is ready to grab your neck and feast on warm flesh. Have time to scream? You didn’t even have time to fully scream when a strong grip grabbed you by the shoulder and roughly threw you to the side from the line of danger because you fell, hitting your thigh on the marble tiles, after which a series of deafening shots and the muffled groan of a dead man was heard, three bullets or maybe be more? You didn't count.
As if in slow motion on a large screen, it was impossible to take your eyes off what you saw. All sounds died down, leaving the silence of your own mind and the smell of blood.
All you could do was watch how the beam of light from the flashlight shines directly on the corpse and how Leon’s hands are trying to bring you to your senses, because you knew the one whom he had just completely killed. Richard, your colleague with whom you had coffee this morning and discussed the latest news, sometimes often joked at lunch... was now dead and you were crying without knowing it. Tears just flow uncontrollably from your eyes even as Leon wipes your face with his thumbs, trying to lift you off the floor and make you go outside.
“Come on, sweetheart, I know it’s hard but we have to go"
"I... I can't... why here?" You ask more into the void than from him
“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here.” Leon grabs you under the armpits, helping you get to your feet, dragging you towards the exit.
Better yet, this would all just be a nightmare. The noise from the shots makes you cover your ears with your hands while Leon once shoots people, at the same time trying to protect the slow-moving you. They scream, moan, attack and you feel like you are in a horror film with high-quality special effects and good acting, but you realize, albeit reluctantly, that all this is not a joke but an evil reality where Leon almost at the very exit asks you to pull yourself together and you don’t even you can stand on your feet. Before your eyes, everything collapsed and the world went crazy, trying to grab you with it.
"I can't... can't... I'm so scared..." your hands grab Leon and he hugs you to him, which only makes you want to cry harder and ask him to do the impossible - to return everything to the way it was. He hugs you tightly, kissing you on the top of your head, giving at least some reassurance given the fact that he has always tried to protect the little that he loves from his work, but you accidentally found yourself in the epicenter and your reaction is quite expected.
"Everything will be fine, please look at me," he asks in a soft tone, lifting your head and forcing you to look into his eyes, "It will be difficult, I do not know what is happening outside and what kind of virus it is, but you must not leave me alone. I shoot, and you stand behind me or hide if I tell you to. If you see a dead person, don't you dare approach him!"
"Is it like this everywhere?"
Leon didn't quite understand if you were talking about the whole city or just the upcoming race, in any case, he only nodded briefly, giving you a little more time to catch your breath while you listened to the rapid pounding of the heart in his chest. He was afraid too.
It could have tried better. You really pulled yourself together, but after contacting Hunnigan, Leon exhaled for a second, saying that the virus had not spread so far and in fact the appropriate measures had already been taken, she sent the two of you to the evacuation point where doctors could examine you and give you a vaccine injection in case it really was gas, as Leon said, which logically you were both breathing anyway. So the virus could have entered your body, the scariest thing you reasoned while you were following him, is that you are both alive by a lucky chance, because if Leon had not been attacked by an attack of tenderness, it would probably have been the last day of his life. You no longer even thought about the fact that that sponsor called you somewhere... Emerick. You smiled when you remembered that Leon called him a high-dimensional asshole, but he probably became a victim like everyone else, so there's no need to speak ill of him.
You thought that because you didn't think he was a bad person. You and Emerick had common topics of conversation, he knew a lot and he had a rich collection of rare things bought from auctions for a lot of money, besides, as he himself said, much of what he actually has was inherited in his family, which made you think that he probably was some kind of hereditary noble. His manners were really perfect.
It took about an hour before Leon left you in a quiet place. There were only zombies outside and a few survivors who, no matter how hard Leon tried, still couldn't help. They always died in front of his eyes, even now leaving a sense of guilt in his soul, because he should protect and not kill, but now this is the best thing he can offer them to the infected. Wide windows on the third floor of a God-forsaken warehouse protected from enemies and if you believe Ingrit, then this is the C-Virus that Neo-umbrella created, not so old, but in the terrorist market, in fact, it is already junk.
"At least there are no cocoons and lepoticas, otherwise I would have big problems"
You were sitting on the crates risking tearing your nylon tights while Leon was talking via video link on his work smartphone, waiting for his colleague Ingrit from F.O.S to plot the safest route to the plane that should pick you two up. Leon thought you were safe with him. You just sit quietly next to him trying to catch your breath while he does the main work and he was really calm until you screamed sharply falling off the box, forcing him to turn to you when he saw you holding your neck.
The phone immediately fell to the floor.
"What happened? Are you in pain?!"his eyes widened as he pulled out the dart that was the cause of everything. "Baby, can you hear me?! Everything will be fine, hold on!"
There was no one in the window. By the way, there was no time to search for the culprit. Thoughts were flying crazily in his head, Leon picked you up in his arms, hiding you behind drawers so that you would not get into anyone else's lens, noticing how quickly your breathing becomes shallow.
Was it a new virus or an improved one from before? You curled up crying from what seemed like your organs were turning into a burning cauldron causing hellish pain that made you moan loudly.
"Hunnigan! I need a vaccine, urgently! Where's the damn helicopter?!" Ingrit shot up for a moment. The women's painful moans in the background were ready to make Leon burst into tears and she was almost sure that tears were stuck in the corners of his eyes.
"It will take time to figure out what it is..."
"There's no time!" he shouted into the phone. Ingrit's fingers immediately clicked on the keyboard.
You sobbed. The bones seemed to melt, which made you literally lie on the concrete floor until Leon shifted you onto his lap, feeling your body temperature rise from normal to high.
That's probably why you threw up and blood gushed out of your nose. Your heart was pounding wildly, you didn't hear Leon screaming in panic, hugging your body to him, realizing that if you don't inject the serum soon, then everything will be over. You're dying, but Leon's brain refuses to accept it when he picks you up in his arms trying to save you because with your death, life won't make sense to him.
"You're not going to die!" the words expressed through clenched teeth echo in the spacious building as Leon picks you up in his arms and carries you outside in time. "Everything will be different"
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He couldn't let this happen again. It was as if everything was being repeated again from hell to hell, only now in Helena’s place he is himself and he definitely won’t have enough strength to put a bullet in your forehead, and if he does... then he’ll shoot himself too.
Every minute was precious and if it weren’t for the infected, Leon would have instantly reached the right place and injected you with the serum, but luck was not on his side again, just like on the first day of work in Raccoon City. You were heating up so much that he could feel the heat emanating from your body, even through your clothes. Once the virus enters the human body, the incubation period varies for everyone: Deborah Harper lasted two hours before she mutated, for some it takes about a couple of minutes, even God himself does not know how much time is measured for you.
Having reached the helipad, Leon cursed everything in the world since the helicopter was not even visible anywhere. The situation was clearly not going in your favor. You again let out a painful groan, feeling like your body was literally burning and your head hurt so much that you wanted to be hit with a huge hammer. Leon stroked your back, holding you close to him. God, your temperature was already colossally high!
"Just a little more, be patient, honey" Leon doesn't believe it, he wants to, but he can. You scream and cry, trying to tear off your skin with your nails just to make this heat go away. He would like to change places with you, it would be better if he were dying now and not you, and not so monstrously.
The virus flows through the veins, attacks all defense mechanisms, mercilessly rebuilding the entire body in a new way, creating an aggressive weapon out of a person capable of mass murder without any remorse. Leon's affection does not destroy you, right now it is the only way to save yourself, but even if by some miracle an active medicine fell on your head, what is the chance that it saved you? The probability of healing, even with side effects, tends to be no more than 5-7%.
"D-don't want to d-die"
A pitiful groan, through the agony of pain you see Leon’s crying eyes, the skin peels off unnaturally under the influence of high temperature, but this is not visible under the clothes, but face...
"No no no no!"
Leon fell to the ground from your sharp push, but immediately jumped to his feet, running up to you after a wild, painful cry. Just one second and the body was suddenly engulfed in a flash of fire, turning the flesh into a hardened cocoon. You are gone.
It was all over.
Leon sees double. It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this! The gun is lying somewhere a couple of meters away, having fallen out of the holster when you pushed it away from you, and if this was a standard work situation, Leon would have tried to quickly run up to it or pick up the Sentinel Nine, but his hand did not rise. His knees hit the concrete floor painfully, along with the realization that he had lost again. The hard cocoon transforms the caterpillar inside itself into a beautiful butterfly, which is destined to fly, but Leon knows that everything human in you has burned out and only a monster will hatch from this cocoon, at best only vaguely reminiscent of you, so maybe it’s better to just tear it apart and then let him go on his own a bullet for himself?
The rain continues to pour, gradually calming down. The guys from B.S.A.A are already somewhere down there clearing the city of the infected and saving the survivors because there is a vaccine, there are ways to destroy the trash that Neo-Umbrella created. The sounds of gunshots mix with a frenzied rumble in his heart, which is why Leon doesn't want to hear anything anymore, preferring instead to stretch out his hands to your still warm cocoon, where some movement is already visible. Watching this, Leon was ready to miss even the deafening sound of the helicopter, but the light made him close his eyes and lift his head up.
Even without looking closely, he immediately realized that it was not the helicopter that Hunnigan had sent.
For the sake of love, people really do the most cruel things.
Leon immediately realized who was behind all this when the helicopter landed and several armed men jumped out of it, their faces hidden by masks. He slowly got to his feet, looking at the culprit of his suffering, dressed in a snow-white suit, with an impudent grin that Kennedy remembered from the beginning of the evening, when everything was still fine. Leon could have sworn that he had never felt such rage before, although a painful scream stuck in his throat.
No one pointed a gun at him. Everyone just froze, waiting for something.
"It's a small world, Mr. Kennedy," he said, waving to one of his assistants, and he and two mercenaries pulled a cryogenic capsule out of the plane. "But it was stupid to think that a man like you would die from a bunch of mindless zombies. I must admit, I didn't want to go to extreme measures until the last moment, I liked today's event, but because of you, I had to cancel everything. I've lost most of my collection"
"So it was you after all…" Leon muttered through his teeth, not yet grabbing the gun, realizing the risks. He is alone in the open space - a wonderful target. "I didn't see your corpse in the museum."
"A distraction," he explained, watching the capsule's preparation from the corner of his eye.
Emerick… Leon suddenly remembered how you recently confessed to him that he began to take care of you by giving you flowers, then inviting you for a cup of coffee, listening to music or general topics of which there were too many. But in the end, when the attentions began to exceed the standard amount, hinting at something more, you refused him, saying that you already have someone. You didn't notice, but Leon has been catching his obsessive glances at you all evening… How sometimes you looked at the exhibits behind the glass case, which you can not touch, despite the ban.
But you didn't even choose between the two of them. Leon always came first.
"For what?"
Emerick smiled as he looked at the cocoon and Leon's question disappeared by itself. Because of jealousy? Because a rich bastard couldn't get what he wanted, even with a giant bank account?
"You won't believe it, Mr. Kennedy, but for love. Death took away a dear person from me and I want to return what belonged to me, however, you will not understand this"
Leon grinned, clenching his fists.
"Why? Why her? If you wanted to take revenge on me, then you would have taken revenge on me and not on her!"
"Who said it was you?" asked Emerick, looking at his interlocutor as if he were an idiot. "For the most part, you just annoyed me like an annoying fly, but no more, although you encroached on something that does not belong to you."
Leon was about to answer and pounce despite the machine guns pointed at him, but the movement below and the sound of the cocoon tearing attracted all attention. He has seen it many times and your hand was reaching out to break free from the tight shackles of the past flesh, forcing its way out. Everyone is closely watching the birth of a new life, but only in the eyes of one of those present there was delight, not fear and regret. Leon couldn't bear it… He didn't understand what was wrong. The transformation was different.
"Happy birthday, Ada,"
A memory flashed through his mind.
History repeats itself. Only it turns out that besides Simmons, there is another bastard who looks like him in everything.
Leon reached out to you, as if trying to grab you, to help you get out and take you away from here. A brief moment of hope still lit up in my soul like a small smoldering flame, my mind seemed to be clouded, and yet deep inside there was a glimmer of awareness. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong while you were trying to get out, muffling all his annoying voices of caution. Wrong smell, wrong body color… Leon squints his eyes, the cocoon breaks and before he can grab your hand, he freezes.
The slimy, sticky naked body lying in front of him looked more like a white marble statue with a thin network of blue veins protruding under the skin. The mercenaries looked at each other, clutching their guns tighter but still not pointing them at you. The sight is really amazing. Leon comes up to you lying down, at first glance it seems lifeless, but looking closely, your chest quietly heaves and he kneels down again, pulling you to his shoulders, peering into familiar but still changed facial features.
There are no appendages behind the back, from which ugly claws protrude, no razor-sharp claws, no fangs. But instead, unnaturally pale skin and hair… the structure is thicker, and the color merges with the color of the body. The same discolored ones, but stuck together due to the transformation in the cocoon. You open your eyes a little, and instead of the usual iris, two red lights rush at him without a shadow of anger and aggression, just fatigue, something that Leon used to see when you stayed up late at work.
"And, when the grave restores her dead,
When life again to dust is given,
On thy dear breast I'll lay my head—
Without thee! where would be my Heaven?"
Ignoring the familiar lines of poetry, Leon remains silent when he gives him an order in a harsh voice.
"You won't understand," Leon has no doubt. He doesn't want to understand these motives. "You're not even worthy of the dirt under her nails, let alone touching her!"
Leon picks you up in his arms, turning to face Emerick, meeting with loaded guns.
"Did you infect her with the C-virus so that she would become your toy?"
"A toy?!" he snapped back.
Now it already looks like a confrontation between two men for the heart of one woman, almost a joust in modern realities in all its dirty manifestations and meannesses, but Leon does not feel the advantage. A fairy tale with a bad ending. One madman decided to use a virus to change the girl's memory and her appearance, making you the one who died a long time ago, and he…a brave man with a valiant heart who somehow thinks that even after death, Simmons is also connected with this. Even indirectly. Sold the idea of resurrecting someone else's personality in another person?
The rain is hitting your body in drops, and Leon wants to cover you, hide you, hoping that this is his second attempt. It seems that consciousness is returning to you, but you are still disoriented, not understanding who you are and what is happening. You became a part of the darkness that Leon carried on his shoulders.
"All for love," one wave of his hand, and the one standing behind him makes Leon bend painfully, crying out in pain, almost dropping you, his fingers dig into your skin, causing a barely audible moan from your mouth, but you are still snatched from his hands, carried into that capsule, after that, Emerick turns away from his opponent, putting something like an oxygen mask on you, stroking your cheek gently with his fingers.
"What the hell kind of love?!" Leon knows for sure that the other person is smiling even if he does not see it himself.
"You may not believe it, but I'm one-woman man, Mr. Kennedy. It took me a fortune to improve the C-virus so that it would affect her body without turning her into a vile insect-like creature. There was only one side effect after the final result - loss of pigmentation, but this is not significant, in all other respects it completely met my expectations. All THIS is for her sake."
"You sick... "
"No, I'm a heartbroken husband who lost his wife prematurely but now we will be reunited." Emerick looked at you lovingly before closing the capsule, which they began to load back into the helicopter. “And you, Mr. Kennedy, are just one of millions. You saw a work of art and decided to grped it when you had no right to do so. Someone like you will never understand her value, you were never able to give her everything she deserved!”
It’s hard to disagree when the muzzle of a machine gun is pressed to the back of his head, but Leon still fights as he watches the cryogenic capsule ahead being shoved back into the helicopter.
Adrenaline is pumping into his head and his palm is itching to get the second gun out of the holster, but Leon realizes one wrong move and this will be the finale in his story. You will drown in a pool of false memories, considering yourself the person you have never seen or known, you will begin to be called by another name, carrying antibodies to the improved C virus in your new body and you will give yourself into the arms of a man distraught from his loss, considering yourself his true love.
Leon walks on the edge, but now the feeling that a thin rope can throw him into the abyss, from where there is no return, feels more acute. If only Hunnigan's helicopter had arrived, but intuition suggested that the delay was caused not just by technical circumstances.
"Do you think you injected her with a virus and she will start to adore you? You gave her the power to smear you like a bug on the wall as soon as she wakes up." He does not know the properties of this virus and what abilities it can give, but experience suggests that minor adjustments in appearance and lack of pigment like albinos are not the whole potential obtained.
"You've dealt with many terrorists, but I'm not one of them, Mr. Kennedy," still pretending to politely hide his hatred for some American sharing a bed with his woman, whom he considered his own, Emerick retorts: "I don't want to turn people into monsters, although I don't want the world to be on fire, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices. This virus was tested on many before my trusted person injected it to her, and before using it, I tested it on many."
Leon clenches his teeth, glaring at Emerick, letting him finish. Truly, big money creates lawlessness.
"As I said, everything is for love"
But there is no love here. Just an obsession.
Emerick no longer intends to continue the conversation, sits back down in his seat in the helicopter next to the cryocapsule, again signaling his people to get rid of the last witness, besides, he no longer intends to dirty his hands, especially about someone like Kennedy. Although he may still have the desire to end Leon on his own, but looking back at the capsule, his lips are touched with a mocking smile. The project must be completed, and the finishing touches are always needed so that the creator can enjoy his creation.
"But so be it, I'll leave her memories of you. The most bitter and unhappy, she will remember you and be glad that I saved her from you. See, I can be generous even to those who don't deserve it."
"I will refuse your generosity."
The situation was turning into complete shit. Emerick probably hoped to clean up all traces of himself, which is why he left the mercenaries to clean up after him, while he himself rose into the air with a last contemptuous glance at Leon.
"I'll find you, you son of a bitch."
He'll find him and kill and then bring you back.
Fortunately, sometimes Leon has a guardian angel with a smoke bomb behind his back, covering him with shots from a crossbow bolt while Leon quickly pulls out his spare pistol, getting rid of the last two mercenaries. A familiar style and a familiar fragrance when the haze clears allowing you to see the savior in the flesh in his unchanging red outfit and Leon would even smile at her if the plane with you did not move away from him every second. Ada is the red queen of today who postponed the execution of her former lover, smiling at him gently and a little cunningly wondering how fate brings them together and separates their paths from time to time. Leon does not thank out loud, but words of gratitude to this woman who clearly spent her personal time on him still freeze in the air.
She looks at the remains of the cocoon, clutching the crossbow tighter, roughly imagining what could have happened, seeing Kennedy's wet eyelashes, although the rain could have been to blame for everything, which fortunately had already calmed down, as well as the noise outside, although occasionally groans and shots were heard in the distance. Today, her calculated accuracy saved him again.
 "Long time no see, Leon" The velvety voice sounds soothing, but a little tired. In any case, Leon definitely owed her more than double the fare for his rescue.
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A princess must have a knight in love to protect her from evil. In fairy tales, a kiss of love usually solves all problems, but what if the princess herself does not remember losing herself in the memories of her own and others? A suppressed personality cries out from the depths, not wanting to be forgotten, fighting with the one who took the pedestal and two names… two girls cannot merge into one, causing you only panic attacks and uncontrolled aggression, forcing the creator to believe that he is not so skilled even if he was filled with desire and endowed with money.
A charming man who calls himself your husband bends over her, holding out his hand decorated with antique rings to you, and you look at her with a puzzled look, pressing your back against the wall, trying to create distance between you. Because no matter how hard they tried to suppress your personality, but the feeling of uncontrollable fear, fused together with a new body, did not leave you, so you did not believe. Neither to him, nor to himself, nor to anyone else, and the dagger in the white palm hidden behind your back does not seem so heavy. The reaction is faster, the senses are heightened, and although the virus does not give the princess strength, you still resist, wounding your "husband", allowing scarlet drops of blood to bloom like roses on a white dress that has merged with the color of your skin.
Contrary to that, you have not become perfect, but you are still a passionate obsession for two men: one with pure thoughts and the other with a mad desire that has been tormenting him for a long time. It's hard to escape from the mansion, but thanks to heightened senses, it no longer seems impossible. However, it is even harder to ignore your true self, which screams and tears your head apart, as well as to separate two personalities from yourself.
You're confused. Not in luxurious rooms and corridors, but in yourself.
Something screams from the inside telling you to run away from here, and then it calms you that this place is your home, you know every corner here, every crack on the vase, these outfits in a separate dressing room tailored specifically for you, everything is familiar and at the same time alien. Your husband said that he saved you from a bastard named Leon, and after saying this name, the image of a blond man with beautiful blue eyes immediately stands in your eyes, but your heart overflows with rage, forcing you to tighten your grip on the dagger hilt.
You still have at least one sincere emotion, as you thought, however...
Leon is intently examining the analysis result from the remains of the cocoon that was sent to him. It really was what he was thinking, but Ada had already revealed a little secret to him.
"Maybe years will pass, and her real personality will somehow begin to manifest itself. I still don't know how Simmons fixed Carla's memory."
Leon puts the phone back in his pocket, looking at Ada with a slightly offended look, although she knows that he holds a grudge only against himself.
"But she's an exact copy of you," Leon reminded her, saying that when you pulled out of the cocoon, your face remained almost the same, yes, the features changed a little, but it was still you.
"But it will explain your new friend's obsession with your girlfriend," she chuckled, teasing him kindly, "If she looks so much like his dead wifey, then why would he change her appearance when they are almost identical to each other."
"And if it was an extreme measure, as he said... " Leon continues, scolding himself even more.
"You provoked him to infect her yourself. If he was hitting on her and she turned him down because of you, then it makes sense. Maybe if your girlfriend had been more mercantile and greedy for money, everything would have been without the virus."
However, was it Leon's fault or yours? Ada didn't blame anyone.
Leon may never guess at the ulterior motives, which may not have existed at all, but who else but she helped him again, however, leaving all the dirty work to Leon himself. After all, you were his concern, not hers. Although she followed you and your strange behavior a little, she finally sent him the coordinates of the place and your photo.
"I wish I could say that she remembered everything, but it seems that the virus did not affect her the way it was originally intended. Be careful, your beloved is a little aggressive."
Is it a consequence of the virus, or do you still remember who you are? Leon wants to believe in the latter when he collects equipment for the road, no longer hoping for anyone's help. But your new house looks more like one big clever trap and all the working staff have disappeared somewhere. In Leon's opinion, there should be more than one butler here, but there were no corpses either. Holding a gun at the ready, it was essentially a trespass on private property, but in the report he would later indicate that he was getting evidence. It won't be easy to find you, although you might make a little noise to attract his attention.
And you? You are sitting in a silent garden in the sweet scent of roses, standing out against the background of bright colors as a white spot, listening to the noise of the fountain, which still somehow calms you down after the last scuffle with your spouse. Alone, barefoot, you walk along a stone path, fingering strands of hair between your fingers, trying to compare in your head incomprehensible pictures from the past of two different people. You cannot love that person, for some reason you are afraid and angry at him despite his care. He took the knife away from you, letting you wander around the house like a ghost humming an annoying melody from his own past to himself, letting Emerick hope that manipulation and time will do their job. You hate Kennedy and that's been enough.
The support group is ready, but Leon still prefers to pick you up and then let the guys from the alliance work, having their own personal accounts in this matter. This could be the easiest capture of a terrorist in all his professional experience, but when his presence becomes known, the situation becomes complicated in the form of additional traps equipped with deadly devices and gas for which the anti-C vaccine is useless. In the end, Leon remains even without light and the flashlight does not save well. He looks into every room in an attempt to find at least some hint of your stay here after almost six months of absence.
And he finds in one of the inhabited rooms where only one bed occupies a quarter of the space. There is a beautiful comb with precious stones with traces of white hair on the dressing table, and Leon, picking up the jewelry, is sure that you are here somewhere, just like he is wandering among the dark corridors, although he really regrets that he did not find you in this room. However, another thought comes to his head when a thin lace pale pink negligee lying on the back of the sofa catches his eye… you only walked around in such things with him alone, and clutching the fabric in his hands, Leon can't help but think that Emerick slept with you in this bed.
The funny thing is that he's ready to forgive you everything now. He won't even remember that another man touched you afterwards because you're a victim and Leon, even if you don't remember him, wants you to at least return to a relatively normal life.
But the silence is suddenly cut short when a creak is heard behind, barely perceptible to the ear. A secret door? He does not turn around, freezing in one position, continuing to hold your negligee in his hands, feeling someone's sharp gaze on his back, but out of the corner of his eye catches a familiar silhouette, in the darkness of which two red eyes are burning.
You.
Leon tenses up. The sound of the blade breaks the silence, and your light tread turns into a sharp jerk as you rush at him with a sharp hairpin, hoping to plunge it deeper into his back. Your reaction may have improved, but Leon's reflexes are still faster, Kennedy dodges to the side, which causes you to fall directly onto your dressing table, knocking it over with you, forcing him to open his eyes in amazement.
"No, no, no, you couldn't turn into a monster," a thought runs through Leon's head.
The mirror breaks into many pieces and dig into your skin, causing the blood to contrast brightly on the light skin, which seems almost an unnatural sight. But through the pain, you hiss again trying to pounce on him, which causes Leon to fall on his back, rather out of surprise, managing to intercept your hand that aimed the clip directly at his eye. Pushing you away is not too big a problem, but the point is that you will still continue to throw at him and he does not want to use weapons at all.
"Bastard!" you growl, "Don't you like being hit back?"
"Stop, it's me!" he shouted, still holding your wrist so that you couldn't hurt him.
It was as if you hadn't heard. Leon pushed you away a little, hoping that being farther away would allow you to get to know him better, but what he didn't expect was for you to lash out at him over and over again, and honestly, if it were up to him, he would have removed the threat quickly, but it's hard to hurt someone you love. He'd had to kill Marvin and the President in the past, that in itself still weighs on his soul, but if he had to kill you… Deborah was easier. She was Helena's sister, not his, so his hand didn't shake when he pulled the trigger of the shotgun, but you're different. You're impossible to shoot at.
"Stop it!" he begs twisting your wrist so that you scream in pain and that scream tears his soul causing a lump in his throat. "It's not you! I beg yoy don't make me hurt you."
He doesn't even want to think about the estate being so deserted because of you. Leon still thinks it's just a virus, and somewhere inside you remember his, you just need to trigger it somehow. Ada said the virus affects you differently than it does Carla, but she didn't mention that you're aggressive to anyone who tries to touch you. Leon keeps his guard up, but despite your tight grip, you've apparently acquired some sort of ability that allowed you to break free and run down the hallway. He's not sure if you can throw people against the wall like baseballs, but your regeneration is enviable, because the only reminder of the wounds from the broken mirror on your body are drops of blood.
No abrasions.
So, after a little scuffle, as a result of which the antique dressing table is smashed to pieces along with all the bottles standing on it, Leon gets to his feet trying to figure out what the hell just happened. However, your trail has already disappeared. The house is huge, but despite this, Leon still puts the safety on the gun, afraid to instinctively shoot you if you attack him again. In hand-to-hand combat, you have little chance, but his reflexes can work faster than his brain. But abrasions and wounds a couple of centimeters deep, your body is able to regenerate itself. So cold steel will be the best thing, in case he meets other inhabitants of the estate besides you.
As already mentioned, the flashlight did not save the situation too much, of course, fanatics worked in some places, especially in the garden, but Leon did not find anything except small supplies, although his gut instinct encouraged him to pick up a gun to feel confident. But in the backyard, after several hours of searching among the marble statues and the damp fresh air that hit in the face, somewhere among the bushes in which some cautious movement is heard. It's like a wild cat sneaking up to its prey and Leon realizes - you're here!
Behind him again, so Leon straightens up. If it were daytime or even evening, he would have no problem finding you, but there is a starry night overhead. Rage is growing somewhere between your ribs, inside, but everything is different for him, because despite the internal contradiction, Leon is to some extent convinced that it is useless to fight with you.
There is nothing in his chest but regret and delayed words that he rarely said.
And yet at some point you look at each other continuously. You notice that he has only one knife in his hands, just like you, although Leon hides it back in the case, taking two small steps back trying to talk again. White hair is blown away by the wind and it annoys you that there is no elastic band or barrette to put it in a bun or tail. There doesn't seem to be anything in this damn house for your comfort!
The most painful thing is the way you look at him, but Leon still grins hiding his pain behind an inappropriate joke, standing in a fighting stance preparing to deflect blows.
"Well, I'm not against role-playing games, I really liked it when you were my bunny last time."
It's confusing or rather discouraging that it stops you for a few seconds and Leon uses this time to take the knife away from you, but you dodge so deftly and still more scared, almost dropping the knife to the ground.
"Come on, drop it, sweetheart" Leon asks, taking a step towards you, then you, on the contrary, retreat trying to find your advantage. "You know I'm not the one who's going to hurt you. I'll take you home."
"fucking dog," you growl in response, seeing how he swallows the insult, "Do you think I'll go with the one who made me like this?!"
Your voice is almost hoarse with hate. At the same time, Leon's face takes on a painful appearance, as if he was hit from the inside in the most painful place. That's what that son of a bitch told you! Okay, you can scold him with the most vile words, most of which he'll really be surprised that you even know, but... No buts!
"See?! I'm not afraid of you anymore! "
"You've never been afraid of me."
"You loved me, and I still love you," he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat. And after all, somewhere in the whirlpool of memories, these frames sometimes pop up in your head. Not the Stotholm syndrome...
You weren't afraid of him, but of the other one... the man who is your husband calls you by a different name, although Leon calls you by a completely different one, and what you hear from the agent seems much more familiar, more correct and more familiar.
"Baby, I don't want to hurt you! If I wanted to, I would have shot long ago, right? "
"I'm not your baby!" you're snarling, and your red eyes are burning even brighter in the dark.
Bad word.
Leon wants to bite his tongue. He still doesn't know about all the properties of your mutation, but he hopes that now you won't have claws behind your back, God bless him who left him many years ago, but it seems you don't have anything like that. Although when you attack him in a fit of anger, Leon really hurts like hell, which makes him even clench his teeth trying to hold back a moan of pain.
Probably, with strong malice, the power also somehow increases... A lot of times, because it looks like you broke his rib.
"Yeah, you never liked that word, but at least you didn't rush at me with a knife before," Leon still jokes, realizing that talking clearly won't help here. He doesn't want to use force, but it seems that there is no choice. He agrees that you may never love him more, but he won't leave you here either.
It is not even necessary to move to radical measures. Your head is bursting with pain again, causing tears to flow from your eyes and everything inside screams with fear, making you want to cower into a ball. Therefore, Leon does not expect you to bend at the knees and cry and start running away from him, just as you ran, according to Ada, all over the estate from Emerick. The wind licks wet tracks from your cheeks, scratching your skin when you run along the garden path, running out into a small open space before freezing in a frenzy, pressing your palms to your chest, as they did in a previous life, before mutation, when you were worried.
Cocoons.
A nightmare come true. Your heart was pounding and forehead was covered with sticky sweat, as were your palms from which the knife slipped.
"It's scary..." an inner voice echoes. You hear Leon running up to you and stopping too, looking at something he hoped to forget someday. Tears involuntarily flow down your cheeks, as if the real you are making your way, pushing someone else's personality into the background. Fire, pain, fear, a dart... This hellish pain that turns people into monsters, you haven't seen the staff, the estates, but now you understand what happened. Just like a divine epiphany.
Maybe it's just one of the reactions. Leon remembered from his own experience that not all individuals hatched from cocoons, but this was a huge rarity, and here as many as twenty if not more, however, this was the trigger. You remembered something.
The wet paths glowed in the light of the moon on your cheeks. If the situation had been different, Leon would have immediately tried to console you, but it seems that this could have become another stupid idea, on the other hand, your stupor could have been turned into a plus and they could have simply picked you up, put you in a helicopter and then calmly dealt with this crap. A tempting thought, of course, but... Something like a phantom pain... a feeling as if the whole body was burning again and being reshaped under high temperatures. Even the same hellish headache that sends a painful pulsation into the eyes. You were again struck by a short flash of memories, how someone’s strong hands held and stroked you while your body was changing and it definitely wasn’t your husband... his hands are icy, and his voice is dry, devoid of emotion... Maybe..
"Аt least it's clear where everyone has gone," a voice sounded from behind. It was getting harder to breathe and the world was spinning wildly in front of your eyes, so an inner voice told you to find where to land or your head was at risk of injury. This is not the first attack, but the most severe in the last few months. Anyway, your vague consciousness leaves you for a while, turning off, allowing you to get lost in fragmentary memories, but Leon's hands manage to catch you in time, carefully laying you on the grass.
Leon checked your pulse, the main thing is that your heart was beating and your chest was heaving smoothly. Apparently, it was an ordinary fainting fit against the background of a spectacle that caused you psychological trauma. He picked up your knife with which you tried to stab him a couple of minutes ago, was ready to take you away from this place as he had hoped earlier. Those guys who were still alive from his group proved that Emerick was not in the estate, but Leon did not believe.
And it's good that I didn't believe it. Leon didn't believe in miracles at all.
Well, right now he was definitely aiming to just pick you up before you regained consciousness, because trying to explain where the truth is and where the lie is clearly not the best idea. Calling a helicopter for evacuation and picking you up in his arms, hugging you closer to him, Leon quickly jumped up but heard a painfully familiar click to his right, which froze him in place.
“In the past, hands were cut off for theft, but I’ll assume that a colossal imbecile like you doesn’t know that.”
Leon grunts as he turns around. A tactical vest will protect his back and chest, but his head remains open for a shot.
"Then you should have been walking without hands for a long time," Leon retorts, putting you on a bench while delaying your rescue. "Looks like you didn't run away after all."
"I don't like unwanted guests, because of you, my wife and I will have to move to another place. It's a pity, she liked this garden."
"She's. Not. Your. Wife." Leon almost hisses, reaching for his gun, but jumps aside after a burst of three shots that were meant for him. "Bastard"
"I was informed that they did not get rid of you and I assumed that you would look for me at least out of a sense of duty to the country you work for, but please note that there are bigger fish in the sea. You seem to have a weakness for women with Asian features, so maybe you'll focus on your own preferences and not mess with my wife, whom, as I told you earlier, you just don't deserve. You have no idea what a valuable diamond she is, a nugget! One in a million!
Oh, this conceit! His measured and calm tone is annoying, Leon tries to suppress his anger at the fact that the bastard dug up information on him somewhere, but his attachment to Ada is in the past, although they still care about each other in some sense, but now there is you. And you are you, not the woman that Emerick considers his wife. Leon hides behind one of the cocoons and the bullets hit the non-dense flesh, after which a kind of ugly embryo that was once an ordinary person falls to the ground, forcing him to quickly take a better position behind the statue of the goddess Aphrodite.
"You've been living a lie for so long that you've come to believe it yourself!"
"Oh, sure, you know better!" sarcastic laughter makes anger boil from the inside, but Leon looks out of hiding just to look at you and make sure you're still where he left you. "We past even though we always knew that we were made for each other, and only by chance and then you got in my way! "
"I would have felt sorry for you if in your grief you hadn't tried to make an innocent girl into a copy of your dead wife and killed a lot of people in the process."
Leon pulled the safety off the gun. Now the main thing is not to catch a stray bullet and hope that this bastard does not turn into a giant mutated creature, because apart from four spare clips and another pistol, he has nothing and the space is not spacious enough to maneuver, besides, you could also get hurt. He has already forgotten that you can regenerate wounds, but nevertheless, there is no time to find out what is your Achilles heel yet.
"All for the sake of love"
"This is not love"
Leon pulled the trigger but Emerick dodged. There was a smell of gunpowder and something sickeningly acrid in the air, as if something had died somewhere and even the scent of flowers could not completely drown out this smell. You opened your eyes, but your head still continued to spin and the sharp noise of the vystreds only mocked your brain, forcing you to involuntarily pull up your arms and clap your ears with your palms, just like... Like when you were protected from zombies in a museum"
It wanted to hide, curled in a dark corner and not get out until everything resolves itself, although life knows how to throw surprises. You hear someone else's conversation, you hear how the one who came for you says that your husband is a sick cretin who considers it normal to infect people to make a copy of a dead person out of them, whereas he explains his reasons only with grief. The puzzle is not fully assembled and there are still many white spots in your memory, but some fragments have connected to each other despite the fact that you still do not understand who you are.
This shootout will continue for some time, and unnoticed by these two, you will slowly slide off the bench and see Leon and Emerick engage in hand-to-hand combat after they ran out of bullets. It is noteworthy that after losing your knife in battle, which is now proudly stuck in a tree post, he used his own, which he did not plan to part with, but since they are busy with each other, you calmly grabbed the handle and pulled out the blade, looking at your own reflection of scarlet eyes in steel.
You don't love any of them and you don't want to choose someone's side at all, but you also don't want to be tied to someone who actually infected you, having put so much effort into driving you crazy. You need to make a choice, and whether it will be right, only time will decide. Two people are fighting for one woman, although it looks like you are not a princess in trouble at all, and as Ada said, despite the effect of the virus, the real personality will still take everything back under his control, but the old life will never be. All dreams burned down along with that body, so you're also quite sincerely stabbing the family knife into Emerick's back.
The princess does not need a knight to kill the dragon, because she herself is able to stab him when he does not expect it. This is the simplest from the point of view of Leon's combat missions, but at the same time the most difficult. A scarlet stain spreads on the snow-white suit, but that's all. Emerick had not infected himself with anything, although his fate could not be called terrible. It was all for love, and he died at the hands of that love. A stupid death, which is even insulting, but not for you. And walking with you to the helicopter in the living room above the fireplace, Leon really understands why such an obsession arose...
You really look like the smiling girl in the portrait like two drops of water.
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He was told that rehabilitation would take a long time, possibly years. You never spoke to him, you didn't even say a word, but you didn't attack him either. You just withdrew into yourself, allowing the doctors to conduct tests and identify whether you are ready to mutate into other stages when you receive any damage, but I was glad that you did not. In their opinion, all your physical data remained at the same level before infection, although perhaps you just deceived everyone well just so that they would leave you behind and not make you an experimental rat, allowing them to drain blood from you, but this allowed Rebecca's team to make a new improved vaccine. A dubious achievement for Leon, given the fact that you persistently ignore him.
He brings clothes, books, even begged for a TV for you to let you kill time and still nothing. You didn't even turn it on until the moment when, with fighting and shouting and after a bunch of official papers, Leon was finally allowed to take you home. They said that you don't have any regeneration and your injuries heal like on any other person, you don't rush at people in attempts to devour them, sometimes you still talk for more than five minutes a day (but not with Leon) and you don't have any unusual abilities. Nothing that would be of interest to the bigwigs of the government. You'd think that you'd literally become a black sheep, people would just start mistaking you for an albino, which is basically true now.
It's good when you can control some of your body's processes. This eliminates a lot of problems. At home, you curiously look at all these little things from your past life, thinking about what it was like to share this apartment with Leon, you look at the bed in which you must have slept with him, and it seems incredibly comfortable, although right now sleeping with Leon causes rejection. He does not climb into your personal space, no longer clings like a puppy, although he whines in the corner from the lost affection of a loved one. He gave you the bed, but he sleeps on the couch, brings breakfast and after a couple of months you get in touch.
It took Jill Valentine several years before she returned to the barn. Chris is so comforting, telling him that everything is still fine, but if necessary, he will let you go. One way or another, of course, he will check if everything is okay with you, but he will let you go if you still do not accept him back into your heart. Leon believes that therapy will help and you will remember your real self by separating the grain from the chaff. You don't have to love him again, although he will be happy if you ask him to stay by your side on a stormy night, hugging you after a nightmare. Then he will wrap you warmly in a blanket and press your face to his chest, gently stroking your back and comforting you with words.
Therapy will help and one day everything will be fine again. Kissing the top of your head, Leon wants to believe it as much as you do. At least you're willing to try.
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lucy-water · 21 days
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Preußen's journal, September 1792:
L'Autrichienne, that was how they called her in Paris.
If I had arrived at La Force Prison a few minutes late, she would have shared the same fate with The Angel of Penthièvre, or maybe worse.
As I expected, the Archduchess was stubborn and initially insisted on staying, did not want to abandon The Royal family behind. She even begged me to help them.
I refused to do so. My hands were tied with the tumultuous situation in France. Saving her alone was already dangerous, I could not afford to play the role of a gallant Knight while risking my men's life.
The Archduchess tried to resist and thus, left me no other choice. I had to use force upon her in order to bring her outside. Thanks to the uniform I had stolen, the frantic mobs thought I were a guard carrying a prisoner's body to dump, my disguise allowed us to pass to safety.
The military physician had examined the Archduchess's health. Overall, except for being a bit underweight and having a bruise on her forehead caused by me, she was in good condition to carry on with the travel.
We will reach to Vienna soon. I have decided to be the Archduchess's companion during these time. Physically, she might appear normal but I cannot say the same to her mind. It's the best for all of us if I keep an eye on her.
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Historical background and explaination:
L'Autrichienne: This was the nickname the French gave to Marie Antoinette during her downfall. Roughly translation means "the Austrian bit.."
At the end of August 1792, the news of the Prussian Army would be advancing to Paris after their victory in Verdun, had caused disaster chaos in the city. Fearing the prisoners of the newly established Republic would join with the enemy, there were people decided the prisoners should be got rid of. On 2 September, more than 1,000 prisoners in Paris (and later outside the city) were k*ll and the numbers would only increase including normal citizens until stopped on 6 September. Princess de Lamballe, a favorite of Marie Antoinette, also known as The Angel of Penthièvre for her kindness toward the poor was among the victims of this horrendous incident. She was still remembered as one of the tragic figures in the French Revolution.
A year before, on 27 August 1791 Prussia and the Holly Roman Empire signed Declaration of Pillnitz, to intervene if the King of France and his family's safety was in threat.
To honor the Declaration and strength the new alliance, Prussia decided to save Lady Austria during the time of the French Revolution and this was also the point they officially fell for each other. For him, she was his damsel in distress, the Martyr who would sacrifice for the people that she loved and cared for no matter the situation. For her, he was the hero of her life, the Knight in shining armor came to life, that she had long forgotten.
However, a love that bloomed in the midst of tears and wars would hardly have any happy ending.
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Disclaimer
Please note that, this is my commission and not my art. Credit to the artist: ann_duong (twister: @ann_akii) for creating this for me.
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