#would have to wake up at 5 am to watch the race

[mickf1loverf2too]

Okay

I somehow understand the decision Williams made but I also don’t understand it

They are complaining that Logan isn’t confident in his care and they are like oh Alex destroyed his car let’s give him Logan’s car

I know they need points but I’m still disappointed

I just needed a place to rant a bit

What’s your opinion on this topic?

#logan sargeant #f1 #formula one #alex albon #alexander albon #williams racing #a decision I will never understand #kinda made #disappointed #would have to wake up at 5 am to watch the race #not gonna do it know

[norrisleclercf1]

Just for carlando can we get a mini lando blurb with a visit from uncle carlos

A/N: Ughhhh Aiden's favorite Uncle visiting him would make that baby so happy

Mini Lando Series Masterlist

Aiden truly loved one person more than his own parents and that was his Uncle Los. Still unable to say Carlos fully, Aiden has stuck to calling him Uncle Los and he has missed him dearly.

The Mini Norris has been begging to see his Uncle for the longest time. Unable to go to Singapore with his Daddy, he was stuck watching the race with you and his annoying brother Caleb.

Lando was well aware how much Aiden was missing Carlos, even more so when you posted a video of Aiden screaming. The little boy could have cared less about his own father getting a podium. Instead, he was decked out in his 55 merch running around screaming Uncle Los.

Carlos saw the video immediately and right then and there booked a flight to London to see his godson. Lando wasn't even aware Carlos was joining until he walked into his jet seeing Carlos there, trophy in hand.

Waking Aiden, the next morning was hard, the poor baby had tuckered himself out. Running wild for the rest of the day, trying to call Uncle Los but with no answer. Lando picked up, and Aiden asked where Uncle Los was first. Betrayal, betrayed by his own son.

"Carlos, you have to be exhausted. Go catch some sleep, Aiden won't be up for hours." You begged the Spainard while your husband stands there with his hands up. "Hey? What about me? I'm the husband and father. What am I? Chopped liver?" Lando grumbles, while you and Carlos watch him trifle through the pantry.

"Lan, I love you. But," "But what? He's, my son!" Lando was jealous. He knew Aiden loved him but given the chance Aiden would go with Carlos if he could. "Calm down, Aiden sees you all the time. It's not easy for him to see Carlos. Now, want to go get Caleb for me?" Lando's face lights up as he rushes down the hall to get his youngest.

Shaking your head, you grab your hidden stash of candy and rip it open. Looking up you stop seeing Carlos stare at you. "Shut up! I'll tell him later." "Am I getting a niece finally?" Carlos whispers, hope and love filling his eyes. "It feels like a boy again." Carlos grumbles but leans over the counter kissing your cheek.

"You missed me didn't you bubba? Yes, you did, you always miss Daddy." Shoving the rest of the candy in your mouth you hide the stash and smile, seeing Caleb and Lando. "Mama!" Caleb whines, reaching out for you while Lando groans handing Caleb off to you. "Do none of my sons love me? Y/n, we need another one please? A little girl?"

Carlos and you share a look, one that Lando misses as he fixes a sippy cup for Caleb. "Talk to me when you win a race." Carlos snickers but stops when the sound of small feet echo in the quiet house. "Uh oh, I think Aiden is awake." Speaking of the devil the little boy all 5 years of him walks in eyes closed.

"Why is he wearing a Ferrari shirt?" Lando whines, Aiden sticking his arms straight up when he hears his Daddy's voice. "Daddy! Up!" He whines, head thrown back trying to stay awake. "I'm coming." Lando coos, scooping him up as Aiden melts into his arms.

"I missed you," Aiden mumbles, rubbing his face in Lando's neck. "Ha! See, at least my boy missed me." Aiden whines at the loudness of Lando's voice. "Lando, he's your son of course he missed you." Carlos points out. Aiden's head rises, but eyes still closed as he tries to figure out where Uncle Los's voice came from.

"Uncle Los?" Slowly but surely, he pries his eyes open and blinks, then rubs them. Vision, clear he stares at Uncle Los, the adults holding their breath as they watch Aiden's brain catchup with what he was seeing.

Lando chuckles as he feels Aiden's body start to shake as he grows excited seeing his favorite person on earth. "UNCLE LOS!" Aiden screeches, Lando and you cringing but Carlos bursts into this wide smile gladly accepting the vibrating preschooler. "Hi Mini Lando." Aiden and Carlos all but melt into each other as Aiden holds onto Carlos with all his strength.

"You're here," All 3 of you look at each other, hearing the choked words. Carlos pulls Aiden back seeing his godson crying. "I'm here, and not going anywhere for a week." Aiden rubs his eyes as he throws himself back into Carlos holding tight.

"Okay, you're moving in." You whisper, your heightened hormones making you choke up. "What? He's not moving in!" Lando bursts, refusing to lose his son's to Carlos. "Lando, our baby is crying. I refuse to let him cry. Carlos you're moving in." Carlos just nods as you tighten your hold on Caleb who just lays there watching everything around him.

"No, he's not moving in." Lando's skin prickles when you cut him a glare that would send any man screaming. "I'll go make up the guest room." He whispers, as Carlos laughs rubbing Aiden's back. "I'm not really moving in, am I?" Carlos asks, somewhat unsure if you're being serious.

"I'm pregnant, Carlos. If you are what keeps my baby from crying, your sure as hell are." Leaving no room for argument. "Okay."

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 oneshot #mini lando series #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris blurb #lando norris image #lando x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fluff

[laura1633]

Fic list and introduction Thought I would add a pinned post as a bit of an intro and also to provide a list of some of my stories (which are contained below the cut). My blog is mostly Lestappen related although I do post other F1 bits and pieces from time to time. I am a huge Max Verstappen fan so I am always happy to talk about Max, although only in a positive sense because I want to try and keep away from negativity as much as possible on this blog. I also adore Charles and not just in a Lestappen sense. I love Charles' racing style and I love it most when Max and Charles are battling on track. There are various other drivers I like such as Oscar, Fernando, Alex and more.

My ao3 name is - LaurawritingF1 I have written far too many stories to list them all here but I have included quite a long list of Lestappen fanfics I have written below the cut. I have tried to organise them into bottom Charles, bottom Max, omegaverse, silly, cute and drama. Feel free to send my any questions you have about any of my stories but please know that I am really still practising and learning so please try and be nice. Also please check the individual tags on each story on ao3 as there is a large variety. It's not a full list and doesn't include the other pairings I have written for (inc Landoscar, Maxiel, Max/Oscar), all my other fics can be found on my ao3 page.

Feel free to send me any questions about anything x

********** Links to various ao3 fics:

Bottom Charles: Good Boy - Multi Chapters - Trainee sub Charles and soft Dom Max. All the gear, no idea - Large cock Max, Size queen Charles. My first time - Virgin Charles. Daddy - Charles accidentally calls Max daddy. Curious - Charles' first experience with rimming. Princess - Max giving Charles the babygirl treatment. Nice Guy - Max comes to Charles' rescue when he is handcuffed to the bed Jealous - Max cuckolds Charles and Charles realises he is jealous of his girlfriend My Pretty Princess - AU -Multi Chapter - F1 driver Max and Camboy Charles. Safe - sub Charles safe words out of a scene, Dom Max gives him aftercare. Two Minutes - Charles tied up and vibes whilst Max is in a meeting. Solo - Charles lets Max watch him masturbate. Keeping warm - Charles cock warming Max to help him relax. Wake up call Charles riding Max whilst the Dutchman is asleep Like a Prayer - Sexy Priest Max and sex in a church I do - Multi Chapters - Angst with happy ending - Sex in a church Save a Bull, Ride a Thigh - Charles rides Max's thighs after a padel game How to properly care for your boyfriend’s thighs; A lesson by Charles Leclerc Red - Angst - Max fucks Charles in front of Charles' boyfriend Two Things - A developing relationship told through sex. No way at all - Max and Charles in a M/M/F threesome but interested in each other.

Bottom Max: Sounds from above - Charles hears Max having sex in the apartment upstairs The Sweetest Deal - AU - Sponsor Charles/Driver Max - Babygirlification Favourite Activity - Developing relationship told through sex 50 shades of red - Charles praises Max and makes him blush Pretty Cute - Charles telling Max how pretty he is The Auction - Dom Charles/sub Max - Charles bids on a night with Max All Yours - Multi chapters - ongoing - Dom Charles/sub Max 5 times Charles helps soothe Max to sleep - inc non sexual bondage Picture perfect - Max and Charles get Grindr Fast learner - Virgin Max Knock Out - Charles walks in on Max masturbating Can't even get it started - Frustration for Charles means he can't perform You play the role so well - Virgin Max Your hands on me - Charles chokes Max as he fucks him Earn it - Bratty sub Max and Dom Charles Late night question - Max is horny so goes to Charles - topping from bottom Pretty in red - A history of Max's experiences wearing panties Still Pretty in Red - Max in panties (again) A not so private show - AU - Camboy Max / Driver Charles Feel nothing. Feel something. Feel .... Charles is upset and needs to fuck it out A Late Night Snack - Charles eats Max out. Sweet like sugar - AU - Sugarbaby Max and Sugar Daddy Charles Other: Misunderstanding - Hand job - Max is oblivious to Charles' flirting with him An outfit fit for a surprise Charles in a crop top and Max masturbating over his waist Practice makes perfect - Max help Charles practice his blow jobs Pens, fingers and most definitely cock … - Max has an oral fixation Fia approved stress relief - Charles uses a sex doll that looks like Max, Max watches You're Hot - Charles praising Max in front of the mirror and giving him a blow job The Impact of errors - AU - boss Max spanks secretary Charles Red, Don't leave - Max providing Charles with aftercare Coming together - Soulmates - AU Porn start Charles and F1 driver Max Omegaverse Peaches and cream - Chussy - Alpha Max eating Omega Charles out Flush - AU - Chussy - Alpha Mob boss Max fucking Omega Charles The Eight - Omega Charles in a drug induced heat, locked in a room with alpha Max. Just need to get to you - Omega Charles gets his drink spiked, Protective Max. Chussy Whipped - Omega Charles makes Alpha Max watch him touch himselfSlick wet (at the thought of you) - Alpha Charles fingering Omega Max's pussy Tentacles: Don't touch what isn't yours - Max fucked by a tentacles sex toy Beautiful, unique and made for pleasure - Max has tentacles

Cute: A million times over - Max wakes from an operation and hits on his husband Charles Carburettor - Max and Charles have to look after a baby doll as part of grill the grid Tomato Soup - Max helps Charles prepare for his dinner date. Compliments -Max'f girlfriend never compliments him but Charles does. Falling in love - Love Confessions through a game involving a series of questions Just Pretend - Fake relationship trope - Angst with a happy ending A Different Kind of Hook up - Max asks Charles back to his to cuddle Caregiver Charles and Cute Little Max - Fluff - Multi chapters- Age regression

Silly: Zombies - Max gets scared by a zombie movie whilst at the cinema with Charles Heartbeat - Max is dressed up as a nurse and it's really affecting Charles' health. A shower, a spider and ...- - Max and Charles scared by a spider

Drama: On the line - Angst with happy ending - Charles gets his drink spiked In the morning - Angst with a happy ending - Max gets his drink spiked. Birthday Drunk - Multi Chapters - Falling in love over a series of Charles' birthdays Like a cat - Charles has a panic attack and Max looks after him I wish you could have known the person ... - Angst with happy ending - Coming out Not quite ready - Angst with hopeful ending - Max is outed against his will Drag me to the show - Charles shows Max his dresses - Supportive Max A love song - Angst with hopeful ending- Max comforting a stressed Charles Hitching a ride - Very Dark themes - True Crime AU - Hitchhiker Charles Enough for now - Angst with a happy ending - Max pining for Charles Red and Blue - Soulmates - Asexuality - Angst with happy ending Holding on to you - Charles navigates his relationship with asexual Max

The other Lestappen pairing: Firsts - Multi Chapter - Virgin Arthur - Falling in love - Max/Arthur Leclerc Threesomes/Foursomes/Groups involving Max/Charles: A Handful of Winner's Medals - Multi Chapter - Max fucked by multiple drivers The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Wolff - AU Anatomical model Max - Max x multi drivers An Unconventional Surprise - Top Max, Bottom Pierre, Bottom Charles Sleepover in 816 - Top Charles, Bottom Max, Top/Bottom Oscar Two's company; Three's even better - Pierre/Max/Charles - Free use bottom Max A weekend away - Foursome - Max/Charles/Carlos/Lando Three - Max/Carlos/Charles - Threesome from three perspectives with a twist Both so good - Lando and Charles give Max a blow job The Show - Carlando are stuck in a closet and watch Lestappen fuck Naughty or Nice - Competitive Threesome for Max's attention- Daniel/Max/Charles Double Date - subs Lando and Max with Doms Carlos and Charles A Lot to Handle - Max is too much for Daniel to handle alone - Daniel/Max/Charles A Little Bit of Max Time - Poly Daniel/Max/Charles There are other stories on my ao3 page <3

[embrosegraves]

ℙ𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

(request) Fernando Alonso x Reader  After Fernando’s Big Crash™ the reader helps him remember them “You were my first kiss.” + “Smiling in the middle of a kiss.”

Warnings: mentions the crash from Barcelona testing in 2015. written with female!Reader in mind. pretty sure thats it, could be wrong tho

You hadn’t seen what happened so much as you had heard it happen. Apparently no one knew how the crash had happened. Just that Fernando had somehow crashed out at turn 3. Pre-Season testing had never been so stressful for you. All they entailed was testing the new car on the track, gathering a bit of data for the engineers and then it was off to the first race of the season. 

You had never expected to end up in the hospital waiting for Fernando to wake up in the hospital bed. You were grateful that you had taken lessons to learn Spanish because so far the doctors in Barcelona didn’t speak a lick of English. They tried speaking to you in broken English until you replied back to them in almost perfect Spanish. Eventually, they managed to explain that due to the force of the crash he had sustained, it was likely that some of his memory would be lost. Whether permanently or temporarily, they could not say. It would all depend on when Fernando woke up. 

You thanked the doctors and sat down next to your boyfriend’s hospital bed, clasping his hand in yours. You were worried. Of course you were worried, your boyfriend just crashed and potentially lost every memory of you! You had no idea what you would do if Fernando didn’t remember you. You just had to hope that he would remember who you were. 

Around an hour later, you felt something squeeze your hand. Your head shot up from looking at your phone, turning to see that Fernando’s eyes were slowly but surely opening. You waited until his eyes were fully open before speaking. 

“Fern?” he slowly looked over to you, as if he couldn’t quite tell who you were, “Are you okay?” 

You watched as he licked his slightly dry lips, so you grabbed the cup of water from the bedside and helped him take a sip. 

“Gracias Señorita.” He said. 

“You’ve not called me that since we met for the first time.” Despite the doctors warning you that he might not have all of his memory, it still surprised you to witness Fernando not recognise you. You had been together for 5 years now. 

“Forgive me if this question sounds silly but,” you took a breath to steady yourself, “do you know who I am to you?” 

Fernando frowned at the question. He took a moment to think before answering, “You feel familiar to me. I know that you are important but I cannot remember why.” 

Your face had fallen more and more with each word he spoke. Moving your gaze to the bedsheets, you tried desperately not to let him see the tears welling in your eyes. 

Fernando had seen your tears nonetheless and gripped your hand a little tighter, “Lo siento.” 

“It’s okay.” You wiped the few tears that had fallen and tried to give him a comforting smile when a thought came to you. 

“Could you tell me about us? So I can remember?” 

“Of course I can.” And so you spent the next 45 minutes telling him about everything you had been through in the five years you had been together. How just two weeks ago he had brought up that he wanted to get married someday but that he still wasn’t sure about having children. You told him about how funny you thought the media was when he was racing for Ferrari because everyone wanted to paint him as a womaniser despite being in a very secure relationship. You had even told him about how you had met each other. 

“You were my first kiss, you know?” You said to him. “That New Years party where we met. I had been so shy that night and then you came along at midnight and just kissed me. It was honestly the most fairytale thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Can you kiss me?” Fernando suddenly asked. Your shock was evident on your face. You weren’t sure why he would ask that. Especially because he didn’t exactly remember being your boyfriend. 

“O-Okay.” You slowly got up and leaned towards him. Gently, you placed your hands on either side of his face, his own hands coming to rest over yours. 

The kiss was slow, and extremely soft. His lips moved with yours and if not for the situation you found yourself in, you would say that it was one of the most romantic kisses you’d ever had. You had honestly not expected a whole lot to happen when you agreed to kiss him. Part of you hoped for something, anything, to click in his head but you weren’t going to hold your breath. 

You definitely didn’t expect for Fernando to start smiling in the middle of kissing you. You went to move away just a little bit, but before your lips could separate Fernando’s hand moved to hold the back of your neck and he pulled you closer than you were before. What was a slow and gentle kiss quickly became passionate and almost desperate. It was like Fernando had been deprived of water in the middle of a desert with how he kissed you.

Finally pulling away from each other, you began to catch your breath. The kiss had taken a turn and quite literally took your breath away. 

“Fern?” You asked, your voice small but hopeful. Looking into his eyes you see love and adoration practically gushing from him. 

“Hola, Mi Reina.” He caressed your face as he spoke to you. Even if you weren’t looking at him, you could hear the smile in his words and how he spoke.

“Do you remember?” Your legs felt like jelly. You were so frightened to ask, it didn’t matter that he was using his preferred pet name for you. 

“How could I ever forget about you, Mi Amor?”

The way I had already written pretty much the whole thing, and then STRUGGLED to think of a way to end it with a one-liner.

Anyways I hope you all enjoyed this one! It's my very first one for Fernando so I'm really hoping I did the request justice.

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated!

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fluff #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso #fa14 #I love you all <3 #reblog with tags I missed please!

[sunkissed-zegras]

another jump then fall au thought. adam going on a long roadie (ie west coast teams) after being home with his injury. poor paloma is literally inconsolable bc her dad was just home and all of a sudden he's just gone for like a week and shes still to young to understand. and poor cece doesn't know what to do because no matter how much she tries the first couple days she wont stop crying :(

oh my god, YES!!! and cece just doesn't know what to do and is freaking out bc paloma has never given her a hard time until then

─ warnings mentions of overall exhaustion, babies crying (who would have guessed), and adam being a sweetie AND SOME CECE/ADAM FLUFF????!???!

─ wc 805

Cece's head pounded as Paloma's cries rang throughout the apartment, her body sore and exhausted. She couldn't even hear her own thoughts at this point, Paloma was inconsolable. Adam had stayed home for the last couple of weeks because of his injury and Paloma had gotten so used to it but now that he's gone again, Paloma was devastated.

Cece tried every trick in the book to soothe her. She rocked Paloma gently, sang lullabies and even tried to distract her with her favorite stuffed animal, but nothing seemed to work. Paloma's face was streaked with tears, her tiny fists clenched in frustration.

She felt like she had failed Paloma and Adam, she thought that she could soothe Paloma even in the worst cases but she was quickly proven wrong. She tried everything and yet Paloma's cries only seemed to worsen. Cece's heart ached with a sense of helplessness as she watched the baby she had grown to love suffer in distress.

With a heavy sigh, Cece gently scooped Paloma into her arms, cradling her close. She whispered soothing words, trying to calm both herself and the inconsolable baby. As she paced the apartment, Cece's mind raced with worry and doubt. She questioned her abilities as a nanny, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on her shoulders.

As the night wore on, Paloma's cries slowly subsided, replaced by the rhythm of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep. Cece watched over her with a sense of relief, despite the aching she felt in her head. Cece held Paloma on her chest as she fell asleep, not wanting to risk waking her up and starting the whole thing again.

──

"I'm sorry she's been giving you a hard time." Adam's voice rang through the speaker of her phone, echoing in the bathroom. The phone leaned on her water bottle as Cece put on her make-up as Adam talked to her through FaceTime.

Cece gave Adam a tired smile. "No worries, it's all part of the job. I just feel bad because she's probably just as tired as I am, if not more. It takes a lot of energy to cry for 5 hours straight." Cece jokes as Adam's laugh echoed throughout the bathroom.

Adam studied Cece through the phone, she looked exhausted but she still managed to emphasize and smile. That was exactly why he liked her so much.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Adam's voice was filled with genuine admiration as he praised her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Cece. You've been such a blessing to us."

Cece's heart swelled with warmth at Adam's words. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her, knowing that she was appreciated made it all worth it.

"Thanks, Adam," she replied, her voice soft with gratitude. "I love being a part of your lives. Paloma means everything to me, and you do too."

He smiled back at through the FaceTime as she continued putting on her makeup. "Let me repay you, Cece."

"You already pay me, Adam, you don't need to-"

"I'm gonna Apple Pay you a couple dollars for a Redbull, okay? You need it." Adam's voice was teasing but she could tell he was trying to make the whole thing easier for her.

Cece couldn't help but chuckle at Adam's gesture. "You're too kind, Adam. But really, I'll survive. Just knowing that you appreciate what I do means more to me than anything."

Adam's smile softened, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. "I know you will, Cece. But I still want to do something to show my gratitude. And plus don't you have that Chem test tomorrow morning?"

Cece groaned at the mention of the test. "Fine, Adam you win."

With a playful grin, Adam nodded triumphantly. "That's my girl. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay? You work so hard, I don't want you burning yourself out."

"Thank you, Adam. You're too sweet, you didn't have to." Cece felt a rush of warmth as she heard Adam's words, her heart doing a little flip.

"I know, I wanted to."

Adam's gaze held a tenderness that made Cece's heart flutter. "Well, I appreciate it more than you know," she replied softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Before Adam could reply, Paloma's soft cries were heard from the bedroom. Cece's smile faltered slightly as she heard Paloma's cries, her whole body aching. "Looks like duty calls," she said with a sigh, already moving to attend to Paloma.

Adam nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting his unwavering support. "I'll let you go then. Take care of our little princess, Cece."

Our little princess, that sounded nice coming from Adam. Cece's heart did another flip, her affection for both Adam and Paloma swelling in her chest. "I will," she replied, her voice filled with determination.

main masterlist

jump then fall masterlist

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #cece x adam 🩵 #adam fantilli fic #adam fantilli x you #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli smut #adam fantilli blurb #jump then fall au

[hanafubukki]

The song "Seasons" from Rival and Cadmium came into my playlist some day ago. I like a lot the melody so I listen it for time to time. But it's just now I truly put some attention to the lyrics.

Now this is Lilia theme song for this OT3 ship in my brain. Totally the song that would be play during a timeskip where we see him wait for years, decades and centuries until Y/N return. Seeing seasons pass, Malleus grew up and Draconia family happy, Lilia waiting alone, a few silenced flashback with their time together and all the adventure they lived, Silver awakening, his grow, the NRC start...

And the song ending, the day Y/N return from the past, when Lilia found her, and when she offers him a big bight smile. Even he can't hide his teary eyes under his relieved smile. And then a big hug ! 🥹

- 🦋 Anon

(Fanfic References: Part 1, Part 2 )

[Ask References: Ask 1, Ask 2, Ask 3, Ask 4, Ask 5, Ask 6, Ask7, Ask 8, Ask 9]

Hello 🦋 Anonie,

🦋 Anonie, I am shaking you. I haven't heard this song before and I am so, so in love??? It fits so well that I am internally screaming and crying.

Here's a little drabble/scenario I thought up of 🦋 Anonie:

I can just imagine him waiting as time passes and seasons changes. Thinking back on all the fond memories he has of YN. Thinking of all the precious memories he has made with his family. The spars he would have with Dawny (I need to figure out a name for him lolol, or we could keep calling him that too). He remembers blessing Silver and the time his son came to rescue him from the evil Meleanor.

Then years later, Silver wakes up and time continues to pass. Malleus, Silver, and Sebek is growing and becoming fine young men. He thinks about how you would have loved to see them. How you would have adored seeing Malleus teach the boys magic and helped them with their penmanship.

He thinks about how Dawny would have loved to see Silver turn into such a fine young man. How Silver would have made him a bracelet too. Lilia hopes that he raised Silver into someone you both would be proud of because he especially is.

Soon after, the NRC letters arrive and he remembers what you told him. How you attended NRC and he goes with the boys with the hope in his heart that he would be reunited with you again.

Time continues to pass like all seasons do, and Lilia watches his boys make friends and enjoy life at NRC. He meets you but it's a version of you that doesn't recognize him, Malleus, or Silver.

He remembers what you had told him in the past and knows that this you will soon be his YN in time. That the inquisitive looks you give him will soon be those of the fond and loving ones he remembers.

(I am still thinking about this scenario still and how it would go so it might change later on, since we want to keep canon events in the story if we go the "YN came back in time when she was her original age when she was transported to the past")

He sees you and remembers when he first met you, so so long ago. The connections you made with him and the Knight of Dawn. He remembers the family dinners with the Draconia Family. He remembers when Silver was first born. How painful and yet how sweet these memories are, how loving.

He protects you secretly.

Then one day, you go missing and he can't help but hope. He waits and waits with a racing heart.

And then he sees you, at the cottage you and yours had called home. YN smiles, understanding now what all his looks meant, the love he has secretly tried to hide but always shone through despite his efforts.

Lilia felt tears form and fall, feels the smile he can't hold back anymore. YN rushes to him,

He catches her in a hug, twirls her around and kisses her. Oh love, how he has missed you so.

Both of your laughter echoes in the gentle wind.

Welcome Back, Precious One.

#answered #anonie ask #🌺🦋Anon🌺 #lilia vanrouge #twst knight of dawn #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst silver #malleus draconia

[fakeuwus]

GUILTY CONSCIENCE | sim jaeyun

now playing ☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡ guilty conscience by 070 shake

⁺ ⋆˚ genre: idol!jake x nonidol/femreader, just angst man am i sorry, established relationship

⁺ ⋆˚ warnings: lowercase intended, cursing, being drunk, infidelity, gaslighting(?), baby is used as a nickname, one suggestive text, jay is mentioned BRIEFLY

⁺ ⋆˚ word count: ~1.2k

⁺ ⋆˚ message from nic: i know i already did a piece ab cheating but all of my works are inspired by songs or i try to connect them to a song,,, i just feel it sets the tone of the story and its fun to connect a story to a song!! and since this song is one of my favs atm i HAD to write ab it. i definitely recommend u guys listen to the song while reading or even listen to it after. kinda ironic how cheating is one of my pet peeves (i fr despise it sm dont get me started) yet here i am writing ab it lmao. i promise i'll write something more lighthearted and/or anything that isn't angst soon LOL. but hope y'all enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

"5 AM when i walked in, could not believe what i saw"

yn: JAKEY JAKE JAKEY pleaseee come tk the club rn i habent seen u since u got nack :(

jake chuckles at the message as he reads it. he glances over at the clock that reads 4:38 AM. he knows that clubs in korea don’t close until 8 but god damn how are you still partying with your friends this late? he figures that you must’ve had a little too much to drink and your party animals for friends don’t help at all.

jake: ik baby but we had schedules right when we landed and im so tired… how are u even still there rn???

yn: TOO MICJ FUN :D

yn: COME HAVE FUN WITH ME BABY ;)

jake: u make it rlly hard to say no to u

jake: ill be there soon<3

jake sighs as he rises from his bed, making sure not to wake jay who’s fast asleep. he envies how jay can be sleeping so peacefully when jake is experiencing the worst jet lag of his life. you being out at 4 in the morning and his racing mind doesn't help him try to get some shut eye either.

he dresses quickly, making sure it's quiet when he exits the dorms. it’s not his finest fashion moment but he could care less about what he looks like. he’s only going out to see you and to possibly save you from whatever crazy antics you and the girls are up to.

jake isn’t going to lie when he says he hasn’t made the best effort to see you after getting back from tour. but he also didn’t lie when he said his schedule was super jam packed these days. he should’ve immediately ran to you as soon as he landed but he just didn’t have it in him. guilt gnawed away at his heart as he hailed a cab to lead him to the club you were having the time of your life at.

jake enters the back of the club smoothly without drawing any attention. thankfully your friends secured a vip table upstairs in a secluded area, making it easy for clubgoers to not notice that an idol was going to a club at godforsaken hours.

approaching the table he sees you right away. it’s not hard to spot your beautiful red dress, hugging every curve on your body. your long hair flows as you sway your hips back and forth. jake smiles to himself. how did he manage to bag the most gorgeous girl in all of seoul, korea? it was clear you were having way too much fun, giggling and dancing with your friends and-

he quietly gasps. the scene before him makes him halt in his tracks. it was like time stopped and the flashing lights began to blind his vision. his heart rate slowed and his palms were becoming clammy.

maybe he was mistaken. there was no way you would do this to him, he thinks. but there you were cuddled up next to a man, drunk out of your mind. jake can't stand another minute watching you and the mysterious person grind up against one another.

in a blinded rage he rushes towards the guy and pushes him away from you with all of his power. “GET THE FUCK OFF MY GIRL!” you shriek and the guy stumbles backwards sending a few drinks flying off of a nearby table. “YOU MIND TO TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE YN?!”

your mouth is agape and your mind is scrambling to figure out what to say. you know you can’t explain how you were practically dry humping a stranger, too shocked and the alcohol still strong in your system. you're struggling to say something, anything to try to make things right.

“and you,” jake turns and gets too close to the man’s face. “she’s clearly too inebriated to make the right decisions. how DARE you take advantage of her like that?!” you’re confused as to why he’s flipping the script and blaming the stranger but jake rips you away from everyone too fast for you to think another second. you stumble as you’re dragged away to a dark corner.

the two of you are standing in awkward silence, no one daring to say a word. your eyes are looking everywhere but jake. you’re too afraid to see what kind of expression his face has. “jake i-” “no. you don’t get to speak right now. there’s nothing you could say to justify what i just saw.”

ragged breaths begin to come out of your mouth and your chest is tightening. “jake please baby i just- i was so drunk and these guys came up to us and…” your sentence trails off, every word you’re saying just sounds so ridiculous at the moment. he’s right. you couldn’t say anything to excuse your wrongful actions.

“and to think i came here at fuck ass o’ clock just to come and see you. i’ve barely gotten an ounce of sleep these days but i gave that up to come because you were BEGGING for me to be here.” his voice is angry and you know he has every right to be screaming at you. at this point tears are threatening to spill from both of your guys’ eyes. “jake… i know i know and i’m so sorry i swear nothing like that-”

“NO. no just no,” he pauses carefully choosing the words he’s about to say next. “you’re right. there won’t be a next time… we’re done.” the tears that brimmed your lashes are now falling. the alcohol that once ran through you is now gone. you move to grab his hand but he takes a step back. the distance between you two grows larger and he seems out of reach.

“jake please we can work this out! please don’t leave me because of this.” your pleas are ringing in his ears but he ignores them. “we can’t come back from this yn. how could you think i’d ever trust you from now on?! don’t contact me ever. have a nice life.” the loud music pounds on the walls just like your heart is in your chest. you’re left alone sobbing, wondering how you managed to fuck up the best relationship you’ve ever had.

jake stumbles out of the club, trying to clutch onto anything to help him out. the fresh breeze of the night blows onto his face and helps him regain his breath. he struggles to get his thoughts together as he walks down the sidewalk back to the dorms.

maybe he was too harsh with the way he spoke to you but he knew it had to be done. seeing you cling onto someone that wasn't him was his ticket out. he knows that you're absolutely going to be broken for awhile but you'll be okay, right? he knows that you're going to blame yourself for this for who knows how long but you're going to be fine in the end, right?

he convinces himself that it's better you than him because now,

he'll never have to admit what he was doing while he was away from you on tour.

"i caught you but you never caught me, i was sitting here waiting on karma, there goes my guilty conscience."

© fakeuwus 2023 do not repost, translate, or plagiarize

#nic's library ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ #fakeuwus #jake fic #jake enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun #enhypen au #enha #fanfic #fem reader

[dracoslittlepet]

🔹️Stay Up With You🔹️

🐍 DRACO MALFOY X READER ONESHOT 🐍

Draco has Quidditch practice early one morning, and as much as you'd like to be able to try and stay awake with him, you just can't. But that's more than alright with him...

• fluff; slight language

⚡️TAGLIST: @wallwriterstuff @raindancer2004 @alecvolturiswifeforever @like-rain-or-confetti @nixwolfe @dr4cosimp @dracolumfoyx @draconisxcaput @dracomalfoysslave @dracoslittleangel @pharaohinamorta @malfoysmainb @malfoyctions @dmslvt @strxnger-el11 @pearlsofme

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A barely audible hum of content echoed from within your throat as you lay there, vivid images of a certain blonde Slytherin filling your dreams. That is, until a loud clatter startled you awake, followed by a few choice swear words from the very boy you had, up until three seconds ago, been so blissfully dreaming about.

"Shit! Fucking Merlin, I swear-"

Draco's quiet grumbles filled the room, and you slowly opened your eyes, peeking up through your sleepy lids at him. He was standing at the foot of the bed, glaring down at something on the floor. You could only assume whatever it was had most likely been the source of the noise that had awoken you, judging by the annoyed scowl forming on Draco's lips.

You continued to watch him as he bent down to organize whatever it was that had toppled over, the boy completely oblivious to the fact that he now had an audience. Well, at least until your nose suddenly started to itch and you let out an involuntary sneeze.

Draco swore again, before he shot up from the foot of the bed, a panicked look on his face. However, his gaze softened considerably when he saw you staring sleepily back at him. "Sorry, angel. Didn't mean to wake you, honestly." he apologized, wincing slightly.

He stood up, coming to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. In the dim light filtering in through the bedroom window, you could see the familiar green and silver of Draco's Quidditch uniform. The House crest was just barely visible, the familiar serpent bringing a gentle smile to your lips. "Practice this early, huh?" you sleepily asked, a yawn escaping along the way.

Draco gave you an embarrassed sort of grin, nodding. "Yeah. They want us to start training longer, which means a much earlier wake up call than I'd like. Speaking of which... I was hoping to get out of here as quietly as possible. Didn't want to wake you." he explained in a soft murmur. You sat up a little in bed, supporting your weight on your elbows.

"Well, I'm already awake, do you want me to stay up with you?" you asked. But even he could see how little the idea appealed to you right now. As much as you would have loved to stay awake and see him practice out on the pitch, the other idea of staying here in your nice, warm bed... Well, that idea was far too enticing.

Another yawn slipped by, as if to further reinforce the prospect of sleeping in, and Draco chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Don't worry about it, darling. It's just barely 5 am, and it's going to be too cold out there for you. I don't want you to end up sick." he whispered, smiling down at you.

"What if I pile on a crap ton of clothes?" you mumbled sleepily, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. Draco laughed again, shaking his head. "No, Y/N, sweetheart. Stay here, get some more sleep. Trust me, you won't be missing anything. It'll just be a load of sweaty blokes racing around on brooms." he grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a lazy half-grin of your own. "Please, you're the only sweaty bloke on a broom worth watching." you mumbled. Draco's grin turned into a smug little smirk, as he shrugged. "That's because I'm just that good." he teased you, one blue-grey eye closing in a wink. It was true; Draco was the best Seeker the Slytherin team had ever had, in your opinion.

Even a few people from the other Houses knew it, if their sulky looks were anything to go by at some of the matches. Another yawn slipped past your notice, and you stared up at Draco, a sleepy little pout forming on your lips. "Can't-", you paused to yawn again, "can't I go out there and watch you?"

Draco shook his head at you again, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not this time, angel. You get some more sleep for me, yeah? I'll be back long before you wake, and we can go get some breakfast together, how does that sound?" he said softly. You had to admit, it did sound like a pretty sweet deal. "Alright, fine..." you grumbled, lying back down and rolling over onto your side to face him.

Draco laughed again, leaning down to kiss you softly on the cheek. "That's my girl..." he breathed, before kissing you one last time. With that, he got up and headed for the door, retrieving his broom from the hook on the wall. As he opened the door, you called out to him.

"Hey, Dray?"

He paused to turn and look over his shoulder at you, one perfect dark brow raising in a silent question.

"Give em hell for me, yeah?"

He grinned back at you, blowing you a little kiss. "Always, angel. Get some sleep, I'll see you soon. I love you." he answered, winking at you again. "Love you too..." you yawned, watching him close the door behind him as he left. It was really too bad you couldn't go with him and watch him practice, but even he had noticed how tired you still were.

With your luck, you probably would have fallen asleep out there in the stands, no doubt missing half, if not all, of his performance. Besides, your bed was just so warm and comfortable, and... And your eyes did feel rather heavy...

Before you could think too much longer on the subject, you found yourself quickly falling back asleep, images of Draco once again filling your mind. He was right; you'd see him again when you woke up, and that time, you would definitely be able to stay up with him...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I know it's been a long while since I've posted anything, so here. Have this sappy little oneshot, I suppose? 🥴🤭 Enjoy! 🐍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader oneshot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #fluff #oneshot #stay up with you

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Bluey's episode "Surprise" and a discussion on the surprise

One of the first things I did when I woke up this morning was watch the Bluey episode "Surprise". I had three thoughts for most of it 1.) Yeah two kids and two different games is gonna get chaotic. 2.) I feel sorry for Bandit. All my man wanted to do was watch the race. Poor guy will definitely wake up tomorrow covered in bruises. 3.) This feels like a generic episode... why air it after "The Sign"? Like what makes it the better season finale. Then I got to the end.

Spoilers below the line

Adult Bluey. She looks great! I am not gonna lie though she maybe looks a little to young. Someone said she was older now because she has grey in her fur. Maybe I am just bad at guessing dog ages but I thought that was just texture to show her fur had gotten longer/thicker over time. I would have honestly believed that she was 18 and visiting home for the first time after going away to college.; particularly since Chili says Bingo is still at home. Then i remembered Bingo is hinted to have an intrest in the medical field/want to be a doctor, so maybe she stays at home longer to save money while working on her degree. But there is one thing to hint Bluey must actually be in her mid to late 20's at this point....

Her little child. Again I am not the best guess of the characters ages... I am going to guess this kid is around 5 based on them only being about a head smaller than Bluey was when she was 7 and played this trick on Bandit (also I just do not think you give a ball shooter to a toddler. Imagine Muffin with one).

The main topic surrounding this little pup right now seems to be who is the father. I understand the shippers want to know, But I am an adult viewer who really does not have that much interest in ships in a children's show. And there are other things I think people should be asking. First do we think this is Bluey's son or her daughter. They look a lot like Bluey, but also a lot different from her. Plus this show is pretty good at not necessarily making all the girls look exactly like their moms: both Bluey and Socks resemble their fathers and Bingo looks as much like her aunt as she does her mom. Other than that the dogs do not wear cloths and we do not hear a name or voice to help us guess. So really they could be either.

That drives me to my next point. I really want this pup to have a name. I definetly believe that Bluey's child would have a name that starts with "B" to carry on the little tradition from her childhood house. Since we do not know if they are a boy or a girl I have decided to christian them by the gender neutral animal name: "Bean". "Beanie" and "Little Bean" are affectionate names family members will call them. Their favorite breakfast food is biscuits with jelly, because then they will be asked "Jelly Bean?" which makes them laugh so hard they almost roll off their chair

Edit

here is a picture of Bluey's child ("Bean") , that I took off the official wiki, without the toy gear.

They have less jet black fur and more purple/dark blue than it originally looked like they did when they were wearing the toy. Personally I think they look like a blue/grey version of Brandy. Genetics are fun. It is much harder to say looking at this picture if they are a Blue Heeler/Border Collie mix or a Blue Heeler/ Black lab mix. Wiki says this is on purpose as both mixed breed dogs can look fairly alike and that the pup has traits that could come from either Bluey's friend Mackenzie or her Friend Jean Luc. So you heard it here. The creators intentionally left the breed/father of this pup ambiguous, and you are not wrong for believing either one of them is Bluey's husband/ the father.

#Bluey #Bluey heeler #Bandit Heeler #Bluey Surprise #Bingo Heeler #chili Heeler #Bluey Surprise spoilers #Heeler family #Bluey's future child #Grandpa Bandit #Mackenzie Border Collie #Bluey Jean-Luc

[annalu86]

First date

“Yeah. I do.”

They stood in Grey’s office smiling at each other for a few more moments before Lucy took a big deep breath.

“Right, I should let you finish” she reaches her hand out and grazes her fingers over his elbow. The motion is quick as a flash but she watches his breath hitch and his eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’ve got hours of work left and you…” he smiled broadly “are a distraction”

Lucy couldn’t believe how quickly and easily they were falling into open flirting with each other. She took three slow steps back, neither of them breaking eye contact. She paused at the door and took another deep breath before walking out of the room and making her way out of the building.

Before she had even got to her car she had her phone in her hand.

Lucy: so, this date. What are you thinking we should do?

The three little dots spring up instantly and Lucy grins knowing he must have had his phone in his hands to respond that fast.

Tim: how about we decide when first?

Before she can reply the dots are back

Tim: if I suggest tomorrow does that make me look eager?

Lucy laughs as she climbs into her car

Lucy: a little eager but I’m not mad about it!

Tim: good because I am eager.

Lucy: you are adorable

She knows he won’t be able to leave the bait and she’s not disappointed

Tim: I can change my mind you know Chen

Lucy: you don’t intimidate me, sir.

She takes great pleasure in picturing his glitched out face as she watches the dots appear and disappear over and over.

Lucy: how about we talk it through tomorrow. I think I’m distracting you again!

Tim: if I don’t finish this paperwork Grey may never let me leave and we’ll be having our first date in the break room with terrible coffee and Smitty in the corner slurping soup. Talk tomorrow Lucy

Lucy waited for a minute in case Tim had more to say before starting her engine and beginning the journey. The whole way home her mind races. This is actually happening. Finally.

She arrives home and instead of trying to sleep she grabs her laptop, climbs on her bed and starts researching. When she finally drifts off to sleep there are many tabs open, restaurants, hikes and more.

Tim wakes before his alarm the next morning, he dresses quickly. He and Lucy are due in to work at the same time but he can’t help but arrive early, just in case.

He beams when she pulls her car in next to his less than 5 minutes after he arrives at the station. They look at each other through their windows before they both climb out.

His breath catches, his heart hammers. He doesn’t know why he feels more nervous than the night before but in the light of day everything suddenly feels so real.

Lucy is standing in front of him, smiling up at him. He knows he should say something, anything but The stupid grin remains.

“Hi” she sounds as nervous and excited as he feels

“Hi” he manages and they stand there. Neither knowing how to move forward and neither really wanting to break the moment.

Fortuitously a colleague walks past and calls a greeting or Tim feels like they would have stayed like that for the whole shift, dopey smiles and soft eyes. It’s exactly the wake up he needed. He gives himself a little shakes and turns to lead them both into the station.

Just as Tim is about to bring up the topic of their first date Lucy starts “So, I did some research”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm”

“So what do you suggest?” Tim raised an eyebrow

“I’ve got a list of restaurants, classics, fusion” she pauses and looks up at him “romantic”

“I like the sound of that” Tim feels like keeping his relationship with Lucy a secret might be harder than he expected as he reminds himself to take half a step back. They’ve never been good at ‘personal space’ but the building certainly wasn’t crowded, there really was no need to stand quite so close.

“I made a ‘wild card’ list, too” she added, seemingly unaware of his inner thoughts as she instantly fills the gap back up with a small step forward. “Paintball, shooting range. Those kinds of things, your kind of activities”

He’d kiss her if he could. He will kiss her, not right now but this date is going to have to happen sooner rather than later.

“Send me your lists and the nights you’re free this week” he captures her gaze “I’ll do the rest”

“Ok” she holds his gaze

“I have to go, be safe.” He turns and walks off quickly.

Lucy sends him the lists as promised. He’s managed to find 10 minutes in his day to sit down at his desk and open his email. The message begins:

Lucy: It feels like we’ve waited so long for this, I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m free tomorrow night, I don’t care where we go or what we do. Let’s just not wait anymore.

For a moment Tim couldn’t breathe, the moment Lucy had told him he was the most important relationship in her life had felt, surreal, magical. It seemed like a dream. These reminders that what they were doing meant as much to her as it did to him proved that this was all real.

Tim decided then that he would make this first date special and to do that he needed help.

Aaron was minding his own business, he had paperwork to fill in. So much paperwork.

It meant that when Sergeant Bradford arrived at his desk he was completely unprepared.

“I have a job for you” the gruff voice came from behind his shoulder and he jumped sending papers skidding across the desk.

Aaron scrambled to pull the pieces of paper back into a neat pile “Sir, I’m… yes ok, of course sir.” He turned and looked up into the face of the much taller man “what do you need” finally feeling composed.

“You have connections” Aaron blinked, was that supposed to be a question

“You need my sword guys number?” He tried “I’m not sure if my mom would be happy for me to expense another private jet just yet.”

Tim just glared at him, Aaron was getting used to this look on Tim’s. It was his companion for most of his day.

“Restaurants” was all Tim said, his expression not changing. Aaron smiled broadly, this was his world. His area of expertise.

“Sure! I’ve got contacts at some of the best places in town” his glow of pride didn’t last long as Tim continued to stare

“Tomorrow night, 8pm.” Tim handed him a piece of paper. Aaron opened it, it simply had the names of two restaurants. “One of those”

Aaron’s eyes widened, two of the hardest to get into and most romantic restaurants in the city “for how many?”

Tim’s only response was to glare harder.

“Two, of course” Aaron spluttered “I’ll make some calls” he sat back down at his desk and took out his phone. He looked back up into his sergeant’s face to see it soften a little.

“Thanks Thorsen”

“Any time” Aaron called to his receding back

Well, thought Aaron, they’ve finally done it!

#chenford #chenford fanfic #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie #afterthecamerastops #left in draft for too long and lost my way

[purplephantomwolf]

Love in Motion

Chapter One

Synopsis: Lydia gets a wrong number text from Lando Norris.

Note: This is not an accurate portrayal of how the real people in this act. I do not know them personally, so I will not be portraying them accurately.

Warnings for this chapter: None

Next chapter: Chapter Two

Masterlist

April 4, 2022

12:30pm

     I sigh, turning my attention away from my organic chemistry professor to my laptop screen. I watch as the 20 best drivers in the world complete the last lap of the first race of the 2021 Formula 1 season. I just recently got into Formula 1, so I’m watching the 2021 season to get a feel for the sport. One of my best friends says the 2021 season is a great season to watch because of the fights between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton. I silently cheer as my favourite driver, Lando Norris, finishes P4. I look up at the clock and see that it’s only 12:30. Still 35 minutes left of class, I think. I let out a little audible sigh, turning back to my laptop. I move on to watching qualifying for the first Italy grand prix of the 2021 season. I have just clicked play when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I grab it and see a text message from an unknown number. 

Unknown number: Did you make it home from the club okay?

Me: *One image attached* Considering I’m currently in a chemistry lecture, I think you may have been given the wrong number. I’m sorry.

     I send a picture of my view of my professor, laptop, and notes to the unknown number. 

Unknown number: Oh, thank you! I’m sorry for bothering you!

Unknown number: Hang on, are you watching Formula 1 while in lecture?

Me: It’s okay! Also, yes I am watching Formula 1 while in lecture. I’d rather be learning about Formula 1 than boring organic chemistry. Also, why are you texting someone about getting home from the club okay? It’s 12:30 pm?

Unknown number: It’s currently 2:30 am for me. I was attempting to text a girl I was talking to at the club, but it looks like she gave me the wrong number. 

Me: Oh, that makes sense. Wait, where are you that’s 14 hours ahead of me? Also, I’m sorry about the whole wrong number thing. That really sucks. Unless she gave you the wrong number cause you’re a creep. Then you deserve it. 

Unknown number: I’m currently in Melbourne, Australia. And I wasn’t being a creep! At least, I don’t think so. I hope not at least. I try my best to not be a creep. 

Me: Alright, that’s good. I doubt you were being a creep. And Australia? Jeez, that’s so far from me. I’m in Minnesota, United States.

Unknown number: That's only a little far from Australia. 

Me: Yeah, it’s going to be not fun to watch the F1 race this weekend, but staying up is so worth it to see the race live.

Unknown number: Big fan of the sport? 

Me: Yeah, I am. I just recently got into it, so I’m watching the 2021 season to learn everything I can. I’m also attempting to watch all the qualifying and races live.

Unknown number: Oh cool. That’s got to be tiring Considering most of the races are in Europe. Waking up early every day of the weekend must suck. 

Me: I mean, yeah. It kinda sucks, but it’s not too bad. I’m not waking up super early unless it’s races in places like Japan and Australia. The earliest I have to wake up is like 6 for other races. That’s not too bad though. 

Unknown number: Oh, that’s not too bad then! Which team do you support?

Me: Well, there’s not a specific team I really support. If I have to choose one, it would be Ferrari, probably followed by Red Bull. I support drivers more than I support teams really. 

Unknown number: Okay, then who are your top three drivers?

Me: That is a hard decision to make for 2 and 3. Lando Norris is for sure my number one driver, but I have like 5 drivers tied for second and then 5 tied for third. I made a tier list one time lol

Unknown number: Okay, so what’s the tier list then? I’m curious

Me: The people within each tier are in no particular order. So it goes 1. Norris 2. Verstappen, Leclerc, Gasly, Ricciardo, Sainz 3. Schumacher, Albon, Stroll, Vettel, Tsunoda 4. Bottas, Guanyu, Ocon, Russell, Hamilton 5. Latifi, Magnussen, Perez, Alonso

Unknown number: Hmm, interesting. So do you dislike tier 5 then?

Me: No, I don’t dislike any drivers. Unless you count past drivers *cough* Mazespin *cough* Tier 1 is my all time favourite. Tier 2 are ones I also support a bunch, but are not my all time favourite. Tier 3 are ones I support, but not much as tier 2. Tier 4 are ones I support some. Tier 5 are ones I don’t support at all. 

Unknown number: That’s a funny nickname for Mazepin. But why don’t you like him?

Me: I’m not sure. I just get a weird vibe from him. 

Unknown number: Interesting. But I get what you’re saying. Can I ask why Lando is your favourite? My favourite is Carlos. 

Me: Sure! Lando is my favourite because of his personality, humor, and how he speaks out about mental health. I really struggle with depression and anxiety, so having such a public figure speak out about it is amazing. Also helps that he’s got the boy next door charm. That’s definitely my type lol.

Unknown number: Ahh, okay! Those are good reasons to like him! Now, I feel weird talking to a nameless person. Can I ask you what your name is?

Me: My name is Lydia. Can I ask what your name is?

Unknown number: Lydia, that’s a pretty name. My name is Luke. 

Me: Nice to meet you, Luke. 

     I look up when I hear a commotion around me. I see that my classmates are packing their things and leaving. Wow, time really flew by talking to this stranger. I put my phone down and quickly pack my things. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head out. I feel my phone vibrate with a text again. I see that it’s Luke again. 

Luke: Nice to meet you too, Lydia. 

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 story #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris story #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines

[wordstro]

[5] game of thrones-inspired au + prince hongjoong + "we both know you have gone far beyond that point."

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

a/n: 5/6 - 15k, i added another part because i cannot stand how much i need to scroll on this to edit so i've split it up accordingly - i know i'm sooo sorry for the delay. this fic WILL be done by the end of this year. setting-typical violence/executions, abusive dynamics, power dynamics, cheating, implied victim blaming (from y/n :/), this part is very word/dialogue-heavy rather than action-oriented but y/n is a rookie player in the games unfortunately.

-

you wake to an empty bed. you should not have expected anything more, yet your heart stilled in your chest as your fingers brushed through the empty space.

you'd done it to keep hongjoong from straying too far. that was what you told yourself as you lied spread on the too-big bed, gaze fixed on the ceiling tiles. that's what you told yourself to calm the tightness in your chest, and the soreness of your limbs, and the racing thoughts. that was what -

"you are awake."

you'd startled at hongjoong's voice. it was rough around the edges from sleep. you sat up, eyes fixed on hongjoong. he leaned against the door to the washroom, dressed in his robes for the day.

you drew the sheets closer, and you said, "you are still here."

a furrow formed between hongjoong's brows. he said, "i am called to court, but i did not think you would appreciate waking to an empty bed."

"no, i suppose i would not have." you could not fathom that hongjoong was capable of...thoughtfulness. yeosang had said as much, but who were you to believe him.

hongjoong laughed, and the sound burrowed right in your chest. you needed a bath.

"i drew you a bath," hongjoong said, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to the bed as he gestured to the bathing chambers. "i dismissed the servants, so as not to wake you, but i wanted to see you off before my appointments. i hope..."

you watched him falter over his words. hongjoong has never faltered. seeing him this way, somehow it was more intimate than the night before. somehow, his softness clawed at your chest. he was capable of it, you now knew, but you wondered, briefly, if it would be conditional. you knew you would always be cursed to wonder such a thing.

hongjoong cleared his throat, "i hope you will join me for lunch?"

you should have said no, but you'd long abandoned the should-haves.

you said, "i will."

hongjoong's smile was a sweet thing as he nodded in sheer satisfaction.

he left, and you slipped from the bed and into the empty bathing chambers. steam billowed from the bathtub, but you saw clearly that hongjoong had hung your robes - kim black and red - in plain view. it had been many moons since you wore your house's red and orange, yet the sight of kim red and black felt...final.

you sunk into the searing bathwater, sighing at the relief to your aching muscles, and you sunk until you could barely breathe with the steam and oils wafting around you. you tucked your knees close, and the heat reminded you of summer days in sunspear. of your brothers and your home and dorne red and orange. of the warmth of the sun on your skin, and the merchants shouting on every corner, and the giggles as you and wooyoung would weave through the crowds while yunho followed quickly behind - never so reckless, so undignified, as the two of you even when he was young. the reminders, however, were as hazy as the steam around you. and when you opened your eyes, the black and red robes were clear as day.

you could not find it in you to despise the colors as you once would have.

you told yourself you laid with hongjoong so he would not stray, but your heart was the one straying. your memories were the ones turning hazy and distant. cold even, you could dare say. in the haze of memories and steam, alone in a too-big room, you could admit that you might like hongjoong. more than you should have.

the thought made your eyes water. hongjoong gave you a crumb of decency and the touch you've craved since you stepped foot off your father's boat, and now you were fond of him? were you truly so easily pliable? were you truly so lonely? would you abandon your dornish roots so easily? your resolve?

you sighed as you sunk further into the lukewarm bath, eyes fixed on the red and black robes, and you resolved that even if you were any of those things, hongjoong would never know it.

you ignored the small voice in your head that whispered that he already did know.

~.~.~.~.~

should have, should have, should have.

you entered the dining hall with your stomach in knots, nerves settling there you had never felt before. you chalked it up to hunger.

hongjoong sat at the head of the table, his white-blond hair gathered into a messy bun, his robes loosened, his sleeves rolled up, his elbow propped up against the table as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. he was enraptured in the person next to him.

park seonghwa.

you should have known.

should have, should have, should have.

park seonghwa sat to his left, and choi jongho to his right. san sat next to jongho, yeosang across from him. mingi sat rigid next to san. the only spot left was next to yeosang, across from mingi, and in full view of hongjoong at the head of the table as he leaned close to hear seonghwa speak.

your heart clenched, in worry and spite and the slightest hint of anger, towards who you were unsure. but you decided right then you were in fact only hungry. the knots were born of hunger. not nerves, never nerves, and certainly not for a kim. never for hongjoong, no no no -

hongjoong raised his eyes as the servants announced your presence. jongho and san, yeosang and mingi, park seonghwa, they all stood as you made your way to the empty seat. it was a show respect you were still not quite used to. hongjoong, however, remained seated, his head tilted to the side like a cat as he watched you take a seat. a sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips, his fingertips thrumming on the arm of his chair.

the small gesture left a burning ache in the pit of your stomach.

you should not have expected anything more.

should have, should not have, should have, should not have.

park seonghwa was seated to hongjoong's left, and as soon as the conversation returned, hongjoong's attention seemed to return to the pretty man next to him. park seonghwa in his dark cloak, and his dark hair, and a coldness about him that reminded you of everything you were not.

you should not have paid him mind.

yet, here you were.

jongho spoke of his uneventful visit, collecting taxes on behalf of hongjoong and the crown. he mentioned that he'd spent most of his time in king's landing recovering from his long journey. you'd frowned, glancing sideways at san. san met your gaze - a surprise since he did not do so often - and his brows were furrowed, his eyes almost...pitiful.

it sparked something inside you. you did not wish to be pitied. no, no, no.

your eyes flickered to hongjoong. his grin was a wide thing, his head too close to park seonghwa's. hongjoong's chin rested on his ring-adorned fingers, and his smirk lifted at whatever seonghwa murmured his way. seonghwa's dark eyes glittered like still water under moonlight, and that spark only grew.

your gaze flit between his friends. from jongho speaking to mingi and san. to yeosang inserting commentary here and there. every now and then someone would laugh. park seonghwa would snicker. jongho would shove at mingi's shoulder, his armor clattering, frowning ever-so-often in seonghwa and hongjoong's direction. yeosang would make a pointed remark, and san would raise a brow in utter amusement. hongjoong would watch them whenever his attention was pulled away from park seonghwa, and the adoration in his eyes - you'd never seen that before. not even the night before, when he'd cupped your face in his palms.

there was a fire in the pit of your stomach that had been lit many many many moons ago. a monster that lived there that you coaxed all those sleepless nights and restless mornings. it reared its head, roared something wicked, and the heaviness in your heart only grew tenfold. here you sat, adorned in red and black, knowing you'd given hongjoong what he wanted, perhaps in desperation or perhaps for other reasons, and you'd allowed yourself to become something you never wanted to be, only to sit at the head of the table as an outsider still. always made to remain a stranger peering on.

~.~.~.~.~

in the courtyard, you found park seonghwa.

you knew you'd find him there, as he had told hongjoong as much, whispered it sweetly, his eyes glittering, and waved everyone off before striding out the dining hall. when hongjoong dismissed everyone else, you'd merely bowed at hongjoong. he smiled at you, and the smile was a soft thing, kind almost, as he touched your arm.

"i shall see you for supper."

it felt more like a demand than anything.

but he left before you could respond, a flourish of robes and blond hair, beckoning for jongho and san to join his side, yeosang and mingi in tow as they reassumed their positions as kingsguard. you were left alone once more, watching them go.

you meant to return to your chambers, or go to the library.

instead, you'd headed to the courtyard.

park seonghwa sat on the very same bench you and san had your last tearful moments, and the memory only fed the growing beast that lived within you.

even under the sweltering sun of king's landing, seonghwa remained unwavering, cold. pretty. you understood then, why hongjoong wanted such a creature. you always knew he had an affinity for the unattainable. you'd feared for seonghwa, when you first caught hongjoong's distraction. you still feared for him. despite everything. you feared for what hongjoong meant to do with someone who looked so delicate, but, you feared what would become of you more.

that fear, you knew, would make you wicked, and to think after all these years, you'd fell to that fear at long last.

you did not fear the gods, or death, or the prince of the seven kingdoms. you feared what was to become of you. you feared that you would be damned to the same fate as the mad king's queen. you feared you liked someone who cared for another, and you would be punished for it. you feared you would become worse than you already were.

you feared the power park seonghwa could one day hold over your head, like a guillotine.

"surely my liege would like to take a seat?" seonghwa voice was soft, gentle almost, but his dark eyes flit to you, unyielding unlike his demeanor.

the beast at the pit of your stomach thrashed.

you stepped away from the shadows of the flower bushes, but you did not take a seat. you merely stood an arm's length from the bench, your gaze set upon seonghwa. he tilted his head up to peer at you, pieces of his dark hair obscured his sparkling eyes. he looked at you with a curiosity you could only compare to that of a toddler catching sight of the mundane parts of the world for the first time. pretty eyes that could capture anyone.

you were not jealous, but you were the future sovereign of the seven kingdoms. you would be delegated to nothing else, and you would be damned if you allowed park seonghwa to be the one to yield any power over you. if anyone were to condemn you to your death, it would be prince hongjoong or yourself. not this pretty, naive, foolish northerner.

"'liege'?" you frowned, repeating your old title. "surely you have not forgotten your place here, lord seonghwa?"

seonghwa's brows raised. you held his gaze. where you expected amusement, as you would have received in return from the likes of hongjoong or yeosang, you received a small nod as seonghwa rose to his feet, rounding the bench.

you held your gaze, feet planted, watched as he stood in front of you.

seonghwa bowed, and it was no half-bow made to mock you, no. it was full and respectful and honorable. you'd heard of the northern honor, even back in sunspear, but to face it in such circumstances? it boiled your blood in ways you could not articulate.

you watched as seonghwa straightened, holding your gaze all the while, and said, tone steady, respectful, "forgive me, your grace."

"have you?" you said, ignoring his apology, dropping all pretext. perhaps, you meant to intimidate the man, but you could tell he would not allow it. that fed the ugly beast inside you more than you'd cared to admit.

lord seonghwa's brows furrowed, "i do not understand, your grace?"

"have you forgotten your place?"

seonghwa's frown deepened, "i have no place here."

were you someone else, or truly a product of king's landing, you may have continued in this riddled conversation. but you could not.

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "do not insult me." you said, "i am not a fool, and i should hope that neither are you. we both know why i am here, so let's push pleasantries and riddles aside."

seonghwa stared at you, an intense look that seemed to bore straight through you.

"and here i believed you did not care much for him," seonghwa's voice was musical, despite his words.

"i don't care for anyone," you said through clenched teeth, "but my place is at hongjoong's side. you must be out of your mind if you ever believed i would not care about that."

"and i said i have no place here," seonghwa said, "winterfell is my home."

"yet you are here," you stepped towards him, lowering your voice, "you let him into your bed."

"do you think i could have denied him?" seonghwa's words were quick. he gritted his teeth, "that i could ever deny a prince?"

that brought you pause.

seonghwa's eyes held something there, something you'd seen in your own reflection after you'd met with the king that first night. something you'd seen in your own reflection in steaming bathwater just this morning. it was a look that curled under your skin, that would not leave you. it would live with you, you knew, if you did not acknowledge it, understand it.

your heart ached for him, the way it had when you'd seen hongjoong first lay eyes on seonghwa. the way it had when hongjoong told you of the first time he used his dragon's fire on a little girl who had suffered at the hands of his father.

but you played the game for too long in this godsforsakened city to let yourself falter, despite the tightness in your chest, despite every bit of your conscience clawing at you to withdraw, to hold space for empathy. you bit out, "yes, you could have. he only beds willing participants, does he not?"

you would never forget his face then as he nodded at your question.

lord seonghwa's dark eyes flashed under the midday sun. cold steel against starless night sky. "i often wondered what you were like. hongjoong spoke of you sometimes...afterwards. your fury and your beauty. your sharp tongue." he said, "he spoke highly of you."

"you don't think i deserve it?" you asked, with another roll of your eyes.

"no, i do. i think you deserve him," seonghwa spoke each syllable with the precision of a blade against flesh. "you were made for each other."

the beast inside you roared. whether it was in glee or anger you had no clue.

you crossed your arms over your chest and said, "forget your place again, and i shall have you thrown in the dragon's pit. then, " you stepped closer, until you were mere inches from seonghwa's face, "i will have your ravaged body hung from the walls of king's landing for all to see. do you understand?"

"of course," seonghwa bowed his head, though his dark eyes remained narrowed. his pause was too long, your title venomous, "your grace."

you spun on your heels, marching away.

mingi stood at the entrance to the garden, straightening when he met your gaze. his eyes softened. he looked as at you as if you hung the moon and stars, but all you did was tear it down. all you did was allow seonghwa to haunt you, despite everything. your heart slammed against your ribs.

seonghwa was right, and that was the worst part. you were made for each other, you and hongjoong, and you did not know if you'd be able to reconcile with the fact no matter how long you lived.

~.~.~.~.~

father is ill. wooyoung believes it to be poison. y/n, i think this it. i don't think he'll recover from this.

you watched the letter crumble and curl into itself in the fire, your heart in your throat.

mingi cleared his throat.

you turned, and he fiddled with his fingers for a moment, before he stepped closer. his armor clinked lightly in the quiet library.

"is it bad news?" his deep voice was quiet. too kind for what you've been doing to him.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, merely nodding. mingi reached then, and you could catch every moment of hesitation in his movements. every emotion that fought for a place in his expression. he reached out and he placed a hand on your cheek. you froze.

not out of want or fear, but because it was clear as day from the way his gaze remained so soft, and his touch softer, from the grim set of his lips, that mingi did not just have a small liking for you. he adored you. and he was willing to touch you, despite your standing, despite his friendship with hongjoong, and you'd encouraged it for your own gain, and it has accumulated into this moment, and you should have stopped him in his tracks.

but yunho's jagged writing remained etched at the forefront of your thoughts. your father was dying, yunho would no doubt take his place, the change of hand would mean instability, and you did not know how the mad king would respond. you needed this still. you needed mingi's loyalty still, despite the means. you needed mingi to remain useful to you.

you closed your eyes when he fully pressed his warm, calloused palm to your cheek, allowing yourself to melt into his touch long enough to hear his breath stutter.

mingi said, face flushed, "i am sorry, y/n."

before you could respond, someone cleared their throat.

you both jumped apart.

maester haechan stood at the foot of the first row of bookshelves, fingers clutched around his maester chains, his eyes wide. the shock quickly morphed into a mischievous glint.

"your grace," he said, voice low and steady, mocking. even his bow held a mocking flourish. maester haechan smiled wide, "i apologize for the interruption. i will return later."

mingi blinked. your heart raced.

~.~.~.~.~

"oh sweet thing," yeosang met your gaze with a cat-like curiosity. "you are quite the mess."

you'd glared at him. his eyes flit to your hands, likely to the skin around your nails you'd picked at. you dropped them to your sides, covering them with your robes.

you were sat in the practice yard, wooden sword in your lap. you had come here to clear your mind with mindless sword swinging and fresh air, but this was king's landing. fresh air never existed, and you were terrible at the sword. you ended up pacing the training grounds before your feet had grown weary and you sat with your back against the brick wall at the far side of the grounds. when hidden from the courtyard doors and windows like this, you felt less confined by the red keep. you could also hide from your septa as she had made it quite clear to you that you were not meant to practice the sword any longer, as the spouse to the heir, and you did not care to hear her nag you on top of everything else.

yeosang was your designated kingsguard today, and you were grateful, despite the way yeosang's gaze bore into you, that yeosang before you meant you would not have to see mingi. yeosang remained quiet as you smacked at the training post with uncoordinated blows before you began pacing. you'd expected a sly comment, but he only stood guard and left you in silence, though his eyes remained fixed on your every movement.

it was infinitely better than having to face mingi. you hadn't seen mingi since the incident in the library. hongjoong had spent the night elsewhere, and you'd buried away the jealous monster inside you for the night. it was subdued anyway, worried more for what maester haechan would say, and, more importantly, to whom. worried hongjoong stayed away because he knew. your mind wandered too often to the essence of nightshade you still carried. it remained in the deepest crevices of your chambers, where you knew hongjoong, the servants, no one really, would bother to look. you'd considered inviting maester haechan for a civil discussion and pouring the essence into his wine. you'd dreamt of what it would look like. maester haechan's choked sounds. his lifeless eyes. the way you'd call for the royal doctors, bewildered. you'd imagined it all, and had not slept that night because of it.

besides, maester haechan was no fool. he'd made sure to stay out of your sight ever since, busying himself in mundane tasks far from your chambers.

yeosang stood beside where you sat, leaning heavily against the brick wall you were pressed against. you glanced up at him, and he met your gaze, peering down at you over his nose, and you felt as if he could read every thought running through your head. he opened his mouth.

"shut up," you mumbled, cutting him off.

yeosang laughed, the sound a musical thing.

you scowled up at him, and you said, "do you enjoy watching me suffer, ser yeosang?"

"very much so, your grace," yeosang said.

you frowned. "why do you hate me so?"

"hate is a strong word," yeosang grinned, but it was not amused. his eyes no longer held his usual twinkle of mischief. his smile was a sharp thing, a weapon in and of itself, that left your stomach turning. "as a matter of fact, a more apt description for my opinion of you would be something just a step below hatred."

you'd blinked up at him, craning your neck, head resting on the brick wall. yeosang was framed by the cloudy skies of king's landing, an apt backdrop for such a frightfully stoic sight. the hairs at the back of your neck stood at end in the silence. the atmosphere had taken a turn for something more serious. something almost sinister. frankly, you were taken aback by his honesty.

"i warned you, did i not?" yeosang spoke suddenly, and despite his quiet musical voice, and the casual stance he took, leaned heavily against the brick wall, his words draped over your shoulders like the fur cloaks from the north, heavy. the weight of the world. "to tie up your loose ends?"

you dragged a hand over your face. "i do not wish to hear you speak in pretty riddles any longer, kang. if you have something to say, then speak your mind. i am tired of your questions."

yeosang knelt then, the sudden movement making his armor clink and clang all around you. he squatted before you, his eyes level with yours, his elbows resting on his spread knees. yeosang's expression was cold and hard. his eyes grew dark. he looked...furious. you could not pinpoint why he would be. you were fascinated by the fury though - you'd never expected kang yeosang to show you such an emotion. he'd only come close once before, when you'd mentioned his mother on your name day long, long ago. his fury was genuine. alive. it was searing summer heat, and the burn of the sun against your scalp, your skin, and it was fascinating to face such a thing once more, after so long without it. especially from the likes of kang yeosang.

his musical voice remained low, pretty still, a juxtaposition to the way he set his unwavering fury upon you.

he spoke each word with a precision only a kang was capable of, "i know what you've done to mingi."

you'd blinked at him, breaking away from his heavy gaze. you started, "i do not -"

"look at me."

you'd whipped your head to the side, stomach curling at his commanding tone, bewildered by his audacity. anger sprung to the forefront of your mind, "excuse me?"

yeosang leaned close, and his gaze flit down your face for a moment, lingering here and there, on your eyes, nose, lips, before he met your gaze once more with a more controlled fury. you hoped, for his sake, it was because he realized his mistake.

he said, "song mingi does not deserve to be used as pawn. this is something we've all agreed upon. me, hongjoong, san, even jongho. he is not a part of this, because he is kind, and he is better than the rest of us. i should have accounted for the fact that you'd spent the better part of your time bewitching mingi and playing him as you saw fit."

"i have done no such thing."

"oh," yeosang's breathy laugh was a warm whisper against your cheek, "you are a terrible liar."

the world stilled. he looked at you as if he was waiting for a denial, waiting for you to dig your grave deeper. confirm a thought that lingered in his expression, one you could not decipher. however, you knew it would not work. you knew as well as he did what you had done, and you knew you could not fool kang yeosang. you did not wish to, at the moment, for some reason.

"you said the same of me once." you whispered, "that you'd all agreed i was too sweet to be a player in your games."

before your wedding, yeosang had escorted you back to your chambers after meeting with the queen and said those exact words to you with a sly grin on his face. they held counsel and decided the fates of the wards of the red keep as they saw fit, it seemed, and the thought made your fingers curl into fists at your side.

you asked, "what changed?"

yeosang shrugged, his voice soft as velvet, yet sharp as a sword, "perhaps everyone realized they were wrong about you. you're not sweet. not with the way you've wrapped mingi around your pretty fingers."

you'd flushed at yeosang's pointed drawl. you did not deny it this time either. you said, "and you all haven't done the same?"

yeosang's eyes darkened, "we are not using him."

you held his gaze, but something inside you trembled as you said, "will you tell him, then?"

your voice sounded small, even to your own years, and you despised yourself for it. you wanted to remain nonchalant.

"mingi? or do you mean..." yeosang's eyes narrowed, "hongjoong?"

two people now, two possible culprits, possessed valuable information over your head. two people could speak to hongjoong. would he believe a lowly maester of a small library? perhaps not. but yeosang? kang yeosang? hongjoong would believe yeosang, and it was a terror-filled thought. you dread mingi knowing what you were doing to him, but somehow hongjoong discovering your plans was...worse.

yeosang let out a breathy laugh once more as he said, "i do not hate you that much, y/n."

you are reminded, once more, of how aware hongjoong's closest circle was of his temperament. yet they did nothing. they would always do nothing. they were the same as him, then, were they not?

yeosang sat fully on the ground then, no longer hovering over you, but your heart still slammed against your ribs as if he remained a looming presence. yeosang's armor clinked and scratched against the brick wall, and the sound echoed between you both.

"do you think he will...?" you trailed off, frowning. you did not know what hongjoong would do, frankly. he'd spoken so carefully to you, and held you as if you were the most delicate thing to ever grace this world, and he drew baths for you, and sometimes he pressed a hand to your elbow or your back when nerves crept up your spine at dinners with his father, sometimes he thread his fingers through yours in public appearances. sometimes, he drew baths for you before he left for his schedules. yet he still disappeared some evenings. he still ignored you at dinners. you still did not know how he would react.

you still did not know prince hongjoong.

"i am not sure," yeosang shook his head. "prince hongjoong cares deeply for mingi."

he cared deeply for everyone but you, it seemed. you pressed your palms to your eyes then, dragging your hair out of your face. you breathed, "i care for mingi too."

"oh, do you?" the sarcasm in his voice was rough.

"i never wanted to -" you met his gaze, truly meaning every word, "i don't want to hurt him."

yeosang's dark eyes flickered over your face, before he nodded to himself and stood, brushing the dirt from his pants and his armor. he sighed, "i think we both know you have gone far beyond that point, sweet thing."

~.~.~.~.~

you were shocked to see hongjoong sat on your bed, his shirt unbuttoned, and his neck craned, as he leaned back on his hands and stared up at the ceiling, his legs spread. his chest rose and fell at a slow rhythm. you could not help but watch, frozen at the entryway, as he rolled his head to the side and met your gaze, his blonde hair falling from his bun and into his eyes. his throat bobbed as his gaze fell upon you, his expression unreadable.

this was, you realized, the first time you'd both been alone with each other since that night. yes, he called his servants to draw baths for you and only left when you woke to tell you of the fact. yes, he pressed gentle touches to your back, your arm, throughout the day during royal engagements, but neither of you had truly spoken to each other.

he'd either spend the night elsewhere, or he'd enter your chambers late at night smelling of alcohol and incense and someone else as he used to, and you'd both pretend to sleep so as not to speak to the other.

"what are you doing?" you spoke, stepping fully into your chambers. your voice rang too loud between you both.

hongjoong's eyes followed you, dark and heavy and watchful, his open posture remaining a calm juxtaposition to his expression. still, you noticed his fingers clench around the sheets - your sheets.

he drawled, "relax, my love."

you flinched at the term of endearment.

hongjoong laughed, a breathy thing, as he threw his head back.

you advanced on him then, though you were unsure why. perhaps it was the circumstances - yeosang's words and knowing maester haechan could open his mouth and yunho's words lingering over your head, everything a makeshift guillotine that could come down at any moment. your footsteps bounced off the walls as you stomped towards him.

he merely craned his neck as you came closer, eyes fixed on you, relaxed facade still so, so present.

"do not," you stopped in front of his spread legs, frowning down at him, "do not tell me what to do."

he tilted his head, amusement dripping from his lopsided smile, blonde hair a soft gold in the dim candlelight. he said, "you're quite wound up, my love. i am merely wondering why."

"stop calling me that." you gritted your teeth, "and get off my bed."

hongjoong's chuckle was low. he looked up at you through fallen strands of blonde hair, "make me. my. love."

your heart pounded against your ribs, but the dread at the pit of your stomach was worse. the anger, the fact that he hadn't spoken to you candidly since that night, the way things were tumbling all around you and you had no control anymore of anything - it made throw your hands in the air. you wanted so badly to make him shut up, to wrap your fingers around his throat. maybe kill him?

the thought was blasphemous, and when you met hongjoong's gaze, you felt as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. your breath grew tight, heavy, in your chest. it was guilt and want and anger and jealousy. there was always jealousy. you could admit that here, to yourself, in the comforts of your chambers.

you dragged your hands through your hair, and under hongjoong's scrutinizing gaze you felt exposed. vulnerable.

you hated it.

warm, calloused fingers wrapped around your wrist. you realized you were shaking. hongjoong pulled you down. it was a light tug, and you could have counteracted it, but you allowed it. you allowed it.

you hated that too.

you landed on the mattress and immediately shoved him away. he let you.

you hated that the most.

you said, "why are you here? why are you - why won't you - why did you -"

why are you here? why won't you leave me alone? why did you touch me? why did i develop feelings for you? why did he return to seonghwa's bed? you could not allow yourself to say any of those words aloud because they held too much truth, too much power.

you were breathing heavily, each intake of breath a stabbing wound, and you pressed your palm to your mouth so as to muffle the sound.

he reached out once more. you smacked his hand away. your voice was a rough whisper, the words difficult to expel, as you repeated, "why are you here?"

"i was worried," he spoke softly, and his gaze held a softness in them that you do not see often.

you did not hate it as much as you should have.

"i am not yours to visit as you please when you grow bored," you said, "now leave me be."

he reached for you once more, and you scooted away from his touch.

hongjoong said, "i thought you were not afraid of me."

"i am not," you said.

you were. you were afraid that everything was crashing down around you, and hongjoong would know it soon. you were terrified of what he would do to you. or worse, if he didn't do a thing and let you live with it.

and, of course, he knew you were lying. his eyes grew so gentle then, you wondered briefly if you were asleep, dreaming this hongjoong up from the deepest recesses of your mind.

"i want to believe you so badly, y/n," he said.

"why are you here?" you repeated. you meant it in many, many ways. why did he return to your chambers? why did he look at you as if he cared for you? why was he here, in your thoughts, in your heart? how did he get there? you grit your teeth, and said, with as much venom as you could, "why are you here when you won't stay?"

it was the closest to the truth you could allow yourself to get with hongjoong. it was all you could allow yourself, without feeling absolutely powerless in his presence.

he reached out.

this time you let him.

he pressed his thumb to your cheekbone, dragging it across your thumb. it was a featherlight touch. "i am not meant to stay anywhere for too long," he said quietly, "but know that you are mine, and i am yours. do not doubt that, y/n."

"i do not want to be yours."

"but you want me to be yours?"

you didn't answer. you pressed your knees closer.

hongjoong laughed as he cupped your cheek, the rings on his fingers cold ice against your skin, "you want me to stay?"

you looked away.

his fingers remained your skin, your hair, along your jaw. his thumb brushed over your lips. he said, "you want me to hold you?"

his cold ring pressed roughly into the skin under your jaw, "you want me to kiss you and tell you i love you?"

he twirled a strand of hair around his fingers, before he tugged at it. your eyes flit to his, and hongjoong kept his dark gaze fixed on you. "you want me to make you feel safe?"

your heart slammed against your chest, the sharp painful breaths returning. hongjoong's other hand sat on your arm, his thumb brushing the burn scar there. it felt like a trap, like hongjoong was one condescending question away from telling you he knew of everything you had done, and he would make you pay for it.

you said, "i want you to be genuine with me."

"my love," hongjoong laughed, and he leaned so close you could count his eyelashes. his blonde hair tickled your cheek as he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. his eyes held a shine to them, manic in its amusement, "i have been nothing but genuine with you. i always have been."

the thought was harrowing. it broke something in you.

tears sprung to your eyes then, and you hated yourself for it. you hated it when hongjoong cooed and pulled you closer, pressing your face to the crook of his neck. you struggled against his grip for a moment, until he murmured, "i've got you, darling."

you hated that you wrapped your arms around him and let him hold you. that you clung to him, and you were reminded of how you could count on one hand how often you were held this way since you came to the red keep.

you hated that you allowed yourself to relax as he stroked your back. his touch dragged down your spine, and he held you as if you were a fragile as the flowers in the courtyards, as if you were not harboring a monster inside of you. his fingers gathered in your hair, and his rings were cold against your skin, but when you looked up at him, he smiled down at you, his expression a harmonious mixture of soft and sweet and dark. a chill ran down your spine, even as your heart skipped. hongjoong whispered, "come here."

he held his arms out as he scooted back to the head of the bed, your fingers entangled in his. you listened.

you wiped at your eyes with the heels of your hands, and he merely hummed don't as he pulled you towards him, as you fell back into his chest.

~.~.~.~.~

"i drew you a bath," hongjoong murmured.

you wanted to say more to him. you wanted him to know that your moment of vulnerability did not stem from him. it was not for him. it would not happen again.

you wanted to say more.

but you merely rolled out of bed, leaving him still sprawled in your sheets, and you entered the bathroom.

kim black and red draped over the hook as you entered. the bath steam made the room a blur. you slipped off your clothes, and entered the bath. all you could see was kim black and red, and this distinct feeling that you'd failed. you'd done something. everything was crumbling.

a light knock had you jolt in the tub. you looked over, sinking into the bathwater when you saw hongjoong leaning against the entryway to the bath, his blond hair pulled pack into a tight bun.

he said, "the king has called for a feast. he seems in a good mood."

that explained the kim robes.

the sound of the dripping faucet, and the heat of the steam, filled the silence. you settled lower into the water, until heat engulfed you up to your neck. hongjoong merely watched you through the steam. your stomach flipped at the feeling of his eyes on you.

finally, he said, "i will stay."

you wanted to say, no you will not.

instead, you said, "okay."

~.~.~.~.~

yeosang's brows were furrowed when you stepped into the hall. mingi stood by his side, his mouth pressed into a frown. it seemed as if they've stopped speaking as soon as you arrived. the beat of silence was broken when hongjoong pushed himself from his position leaning against the wall, extending a ring-adorned hand to you. his black and red robes were quite extravagant, his blonde hair pulled into a neat bun. he looked the opposite of how he did the night before. it reminded you of how undignified you had been.

you took his hand.

the walk to the feasting hall was quiet, your footsteps echoing in the empty halls. the king often called upon the red keep to attend extravagant feasts whenever he was in a good mood. often those good moods were followed by jousting tourneys or a public execution by dragonfire in the courtyard. it often depended on the king's mad whims.

the king rose when you were both announced, raising his wine glass. his nails were claw-like, the queen was nowhere in sight, and the nobles lining the tables looked wary.

"alas, my beloved son is here with his lovely spouse. come, come, take a seat. today is a day of celebration!"

he raised his wine to the nobles of the red keep. the king's counsel - lord kang, lord choi, and lord song - stood to the king's right side as hongjoong took a stand at the king's left and you next to hongjoong.

the king pat hongjoong's back as he called, "here is a toast to new and better beginnings for not only the kingdom of dorne, but to the seven kingdoms."

you'd blinked at that, surprised. you felt hongjoong's fingers tighten around yours. you looked to him, and his eyes seemed stern, careful. he shook his head slightly.

"come now, raise your glasses!" the king turned his wine glass to lord kang, and they clinked glasses, drinking together. lord kang smiled brightly. it reminded you of yeosang's smiles.

"hongjoong, my son!"

hongjoong raised his glass.

the king turned to you. your heart dropped at the way his eyes fixed upon you. he said, "come now, my child. a toast to your father is in order."

your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, yunho's words of poison and sickness jumping to the forefront of your mind. no, you thought.

no, no, no -

"let us toast to our dear lord jeong. at long last, he's had the forethought to die." the king called to the crowd, "in his sleep, they say. a rather pathetic death, if i may so myself, but it seems with the dornish lord now at rest, we may move forward in negotiating peace with the new young lord jeong."

you could feel the eyes on you, gauging your reaction, and all you could manage to do was stand there and watch as the red keep toasted, as they celebrated the death of your father. you thought of yunho and wooyoung and your mother, and how you should have been there mourning with them. yet here you were, celebrating his death instead. you did not belong to dorne, not any longer, not like this.

"did you know?"

you looked at hongjoong long and hard, as you both sat at the head table, watching everyone eat and drink.

hongjoong still held your hand as he said, "i found out this morning."

you let him hold your hand still. you were terrified that if he let go, you'd drift away and you would not be able to return.

~.~.~.~.~

a tourney. the king decided to hold a celebratory tourney that afternoon. the chois offered to host, of course.

you needed to meet yeonjun, see if your brothers had sent you any letters. you needed to expel the heavy weight on your chest. you needed to get away.

yet, here you were, attending a tourney, watching as hongjoong defeated opponent, as his father hooted and cheered, and the people seemed to enjoy that their king was in good spirits for once.

your father is dead.

hongjoong knocked a man from his horse so hard, the man's helmet flew across the field. the kingsguard lined the back of the king's stands - he barely made public appearances anymore so it was quite apt that he'd have so many kingsguard around him - and mingi looked at you with worry in his eyes that you could not stand.

your father is dead.

the mountain stood next to mingi, a beast of man that brought fear down your spine. his stringy hair peaked through his helmet. you could swear he met your gaze then. you looked away quickly.

your father is dead, your father is dead, your father is dead.

hongjoong waved his jousting sword in victory, his final opponent slumped over in the corner. dead, you knew.

hongjoong galloped back and forth through the tourney field, taking in the cheers. he stopped, then, not in front of you, but in front of park seonghwa.

the crowd grew hushed as hongjoong laid a crown of winter roses, blue with frost, on seonghwa's lap. it slid from his jousting sword onto seonghwa's lap with a soft rustle that was heard throughout the silent tourney field. your septa had spoken of a tradition in tourneys, one that holds that the victor in a tournament may select anyone present and name them the regent of love and beauty, crowning them with a wreath of flowers and dedicating the their victory to them. never once had hongjoong done such a thing before. until now. until today. until the king called for a tournament to celebrate your father's death.

you sat frozen, even as the king cackled and hooted. even as your gaze flickered to familiar faces. a flicker of fury curled over jongho's face, and you knew then that this was not just a slight to you. hongjoong's actions would hold consequences, and you would suffer for it. it was clear from the way hongjoong grinned, the way he walked so easily, that he did not care what his actions entailed for you. he did not care. your father was dead, and he did not care, and you were not of king's landing, of westeros, either. you belonged nowhere, with no one.

choi san met your gaze, over the crowd, and his smile was a sad, careful thing. it was the first time he'd truly acknowledged you in a long, long time. it was a smile that reminded you of chaste kisses in a hidden courtyard, and hope, and then hope lost.

your father was dead, and you worried that soon you would be too.

~.~.~.~.~

you shoved hongjoong as soon as the door to your chambers clambered shut behind you both.

hongjoong grabbed your wrists - his grip was not tight or painful, but it was firm. a reminder of who you were and who he was to you.

"you're a fool," you bit out. you shook his hands off your wrists and gestured beyond him, to the red keep. "why did you do it?"

hongjoong stepped closer to you, but you stood your ground, eyes locked upon his.

he matched your tone, his eyes dark, his jaw tight, and he said, "mingi, y/n? of all the people at the red keep, you chose mingi?"

you froze then, in horror and guilt, and it felt as though the beast in your stomach was clawing its way to your heart, out your chest, and you let out a staggered breath as you searched his gaze. you wondered how much he knew. you wondered what he would do to you. you would have your answer.

you tried to push him away then, but he crowded your space, until your back hit a wall, your breath leaving you.

"mingi is my brother. he is...he is kind, y/n," hongjoong's eyes held a dark fury he never directed towards you. he clasped his fingers around your jaw, forcing you to look at him. his grip was not painful yet, but it was angry. "you could have ruined him."

"so you care about him?" you scowled, "you come pleading the case for a man who is not even your brother by blood, but what of me? you have made vows to me before the gods? what becomes of me? what of my ruination?"

your voice was shrill as you raised your voice, your shout echoing all around you. hongjoong's grip under your jaw tightened, his rings digging into your skin. it pinched at your skin. this time it hurt.

"i do not care what you do behind closed doors, as i've told you time and time again, but the tourney? park seonghwa?" you spat his name. his fingers squeezed tighter, and your breath caught in your throat, fear and something else, something akin to grief, curling under your skin. "you've condemned me in front of everyone, hongjoong. and even before all this you knew. you knew my father was dead, but you let me face that news on my own."

"i do not owe you anything. not my love nor my sympathies," hongjoong leaned so close, you could feel his breath against your cheek, his dark eyes blown out in madness, in anger, and in the very same guilt you'd seen in him that night. he said, "i am a kim. i owe you nothing."

"kims are not gods," you spat. "without your dragons, you are just like the rest of us. you will bleed red like the rest of us."

he yanked you closer by his grip on your jaw.

"is that a threat?"

"will you kill me if i say yes?"

his gaze flicked over your expression, your defiance, your anger, your fear, and his brows furrowed. he shoved you up against the wall. for a moment, you thought he'd kill you then and there. then he released you, retreating back. you blinked after him.

"leave mingi alone." his voice was controlled and quiet, his simmering anger barely detectable if you hadn't known what to listen for. "remove him from your schemes immediately. i know you have him do your bidding, y/n."

you remained with your back to the wall, your fingers curling around your jaw. you wondered, briefly, if he had left bruises. the thought that hongjoong was so close to knowing of yeonjun and your letters to your brother - it made your heart race harder.

"and if i do not?" you asked, teeth clenched. your other hand brushed over the old burn scar on your arm, squeezing it to find some semblance of control in this situation. hongjoong's eyes tracked the movement, his jaw tightening at your words.

hongjoong's eyes darkened when he met your gaze once more, "then i will do it for you, y/n. you will not like my methods. believe me."

you grit your teeth, but before you could answer, hongjoong turned away with a flurry of royal red and black robes and blond hair.

he left, slamming the door behind him. you slid down the wall holding you up, fingers curling around your jaw.

"fuck," you breathed.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

~.~.~.~.~

you were no stranger to grief. it was an old friend, really, but this time it crept up on you like a predator crept upon prey.

the mad king's trials had become weekly affairs, despite his occasional refusal to appear in public himself. that morning was cold and dreary, and the king sent a messenger in his place.

you sat beside hongjoong in the courtyard, front and center, in place of the king and queen. the whispers prior to the tourney had been quiet ever since hongjoong burned lord lim on your behalf, but it seemed the whispers had returned tenfold since the tourney. you did not expect any less. you doubted hongjoong would burn another important noble alive to preserve your honor when his attention was elsewhere anyway, and you figured everyone else at court believed the same. san, choi jongho, and park seonghwa had left for their homes at daybreak, and you had not heard from irene's little birds as to why they'd all left so quickly. the nobles whispered of your inability to keep the prince happy, of the slight against you at the tourney. they whispered aloud of what would happen next - an affair and your uselessness.

you sat beside hongjoong, ignoring the whispers, watching as guards dragged in a struggling figure. the king's messenger unfurled his scroll, rising to his feet.

the guards tied the struggling figure to the scorched execution post. the messenger called out his crimes, decreed by the king - a traitor to the crown and to westeros - and then the guard pulled the sack from the person's head.

your heart fell, then, to the pit of your stomach at the familiar face.

yeonjun.

it was yeonjun.

in that moment, you heard nothing, your ears ringing as yeonjun's twisted, defiant expression filled your vision. one of the executioners took the stand, green fire jars in his hand, and you could not close your eyes.

yeonjun's defiant eyes, usually so playful and amused, met yours through the crowd. he smiled.

fingers slipped through yours. your ears still rang, and the cheering of the crowd sounded far away as green fire filled your blurred vision.

you pulled away from the scene before you long enough to recognize that hongjoong was holding your hand. he did not look at you, his eyes fixed on the execution, green flames illuminating his dark features.

yeonjun was dead. your sole method of communication with your brothers was dead.

your father was dead.

what would become of you now?

~.~.~.~.~

you gnawed at your bottom lip as you both approached your chambers. the courtyard and yeonjun's burnt flesh was long behind you, but you could not shake it from your head. you knew it was your fault.

it had to be.

all of this - somehow it felt as if you were failing, as if you'd lost the high you were on earlier and everything was crashing around you and you were to blame for it all.

you were no stranger to grief, but as you and hongjoong walked through the empty halls in silence, the smell of burnt flesh still lingering on in your nose, on your clothes, your hair, yeosang leading the way, and mingi walking behind you - hongjoong only allowed mingi to guard you if he was with you, and you hadn't had a moment alone with him since the night maester haechan had walked in on you both - a wave of nausea and dread washed over you.

"he was only a barkeep," your voice was quiet, even to your own ears.

hongjoong glanced briefly in your direction. he said, "a barkeep who committed treason."

he kept walking as you came to a halt.

"a dornish barkeep," your voice bounced off the walls. hongjoong spun to face you, his black robes fluttering around him like tendrils of smoke. yeosang met your gaze over hongjoong's shoulder and shook his head at you. you ignored him. "my father is dead, and now you people are persecuting a dornish barkeep? do you think i am an idiot, hongjoong? when will i end up on that post?"

hongjoong glowered, "was he your lover?"

you blinked, "is that all that matters to you?"

"i know you've gone to visit him and his bar, y/n," hongjoong snapped, his fists clenched at his sides. "i knew for a while, but i thought perhaps your reasons were innocent. then i learned what you've been doing with mingi, and i thought it was mingi. it's hard for me to be angry with mingi. you must have known that though. but then. then i learned you'd started going to that bar alone."

you'd frozen at the mention of mingi, hyperaware that he stood behind you. mingi did not deserve this, you knew. however, the implications in hongjoong's voice, the fact that he could ever dare voice such a thing to you, let alone in front of yeosang and mingi - it fueled the fire that always burned in your chest.

"not too long ago, you burned a lord alive for saying the exact thing you are implicating me of right now, hongjoong."

"because i knew it was not true then. now i am not so sure."

the fire burned at your insides. you wished to scream at him, to tear the look from his face, and douse that in green fire the same way he had allowed his father to murder yeonjun.

"what of your lovers?" you shouted, your voice dragging through the silence. you hadn't raised your voice in so long, your voice grew gravely, harsh, at the volume. your skin crawled as you advanced on him, "what of all the people you've slept with after you swore yourself to me? shall we burn them alive as well, your grace?"

"y/n, lower your voice." hongjoong's voice was so much quieter than yours, but you did not care. the fire had burst from your stomach, and you no longer wished to quiet yourself. you no longer cared.

"fuck you," you spat. "you are a hypocrite, and you cannot stand to see me happy. that is the truth, hongjoong. my father is dead, by your father's hand for all i know, and the very next day you not only humiliated me in front of the the red keep, but you took away the only protection i have had the misfortune to have in this gods-damned place. your kim protection that you forced upon me when you married me. and now - and now you dare accuse me of adultery when you come to our chambers smelling of another more often than not? you were right, hongjoong. you are not like your father. you are much, much worse."

your chest rose and fell, your breathing unsteady. the silence that followed your shouts felt like a heavy fur blanket, warm and suffocating.

you broke the silence first as you said, "you made me believe i could trust you. perhaps i am a fool for ever thinking such a thing, or for willingly letting you into my bed. but now," you gestured around you, your voice barely louder than a whisper, "but now a war is looming, and you do not fucking care what that means for anyone else, do you?"

hongjoong was a collector of sorts, who liked to have the moon and sun and stars, but he did not think of anything beyond that. that was how gods were, were they not? watching from above, collecting, but never quite caring. they only lived to be worshipped. they believed they could not be touched. the kims were closer to gods than they were to men. you were a fool for ever believing his touches and his drawn baths and his late night talks meant anything. his sweet nothings were just that: nothing.

"the war will not touch you," hongjoong said.

he did not deny that it was looming, he did not address anything else you had said. you wondered briefly what your brothers have decided since your father passed. you felt, once more, in the dark.

"is that all you have to say?" you grit out instead.

"you are mine, y/n, and war will never touch what is mine," hongjoong said, his voice quiet, softer than you expected. as he meant to be comforting. a part of you did feel comforted, while a larger part of you felt everything but. "i understand your treasonous words are born of grief. it's made you unreasonable, and i will let that slide tonight."

frustration clawed at your insides. you said, "i hate you."

"i know," hongjoong's eyes flickered away from your face for a moment as he waved his hand. "yeosang, take y/n to my chambers. they need rest. guard the door. mingi, come with me."

hongjoong stepped around you, and you turned to watch him go. mingi met your eyes with something of an apology in his eyes, brows furrowed in worry, shoulders hunched. hongjoong walked on ahead of him, robes trailing behind him.

you felt a hand on your shoulder. you jumped.

"sorry," yeosang apologized withdrawing his touch. you shook your head. your frustration had clawed its way out of you in the form of tears, and you brushed them away angrily.

"do you still believe he is not a bad person?" your voice shook too much. you despised it.

yeosang did not answer, looking away as if to preserve your dignity. for once, you were grateful for it.

after a beat, you composed yourself enough to straighten yourself out, and you asked, "will he hurt mingi?"

"no," yeosang's response was instantaneous.

you nodded, an inkling of relief settling over you at that reassurance. you knew, deep down, he would not, but you could never be too sure with what you knew of hongjoong. you would not live with yourself if mingi ended up on a post because of you. yeosang trailed along beside you as you both headed to your chambers in silence.

your fingers stilled against the door when yeosang said your name. not your grace. not sweet thing. simply, "y/n."

"yes?"

he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. yeosang's brows furrowed with his internal struggle. you watched for only a moment, but after another moment of silence, you merely pushed your door open and shut it in his face.

~.~.~.~.~

shortly after yeonjun's execution, lord kang resigned as hand of the king.

before drawing your morning bath, you overheard the maids whispering that the mad king had laughed himself into a coughing fit when lord kang had announced his resignation in the throne room early that morning. by some miracle, the mad king had not decided the resignation was call for another execution.

hongjoong had not returned after he asked yeosang to escort you back to your chambers. you hadn't slept until early morning anyway, only to awake to the sound of the maids entering your chambers. your servants hadn't drawn a bath for you in a while, you realized then, as you listened to their hushed whispers. hongjoong was always the one to do it, no matter how late he returned. the thought made you want to crawl out of your skin in both anger and a residual type of grief that grew the more you thought of hongjoong or your father or your brothers or your mother or yeonjun or mingi.

in fact, the maids had left mid-morning, and you'd opened your door to find yeosang still standing guard outside of your room.

you'd blinked at yeosang in confusion.

yeosang blinked back at you, expression unreadable.

"you stayed?"

"i am simply following orders, your grace," his voice curled around your title with a hint of amusement you hadn't heard in quite a while. the familiarity was comforting.

you nodded, rolling your eyes at his tone. you meant to shut the door on him then, but the maid's whispers made you pause, turning to yeosang once more, "i heard lord kang resigned?"

"yes, this morning," yeosang said with a nod, his armor clinking loudly.

"why?"

"there are many reasons he is upset," yeosang shrugged, "one of which being that i am no longer eligible to take his place as lord of casterly rock as i have sworn myself to the kingsguard. he is without an heir now."

"but you'd joined the kingsguard a long while back. why bring the matter up now?"

"it seems my father's sights have changed."

"huh," you laughed at his nonchalance, "would you care to share those new sights with me?"

"lord kang is leaving for casterly rock in the evening." a small smile stretched across his pretty features, genuine in a way you have never seen. "that is all i know, your grace."

you doubted that was all he knew, but you'd nodded anyway. yeosang bowed his head, and you shut the door.

~.~.~.~.~

you are confined to your chambers. hongjoong does not say it aloud, even on the nights he returned to your chambers to clamber into his side of the bed, but you were no longer invited to the throne room or to meals with hongjoong. the servants brought you your meals. the kingsguard assigned to your room would block your way out when you tried to go for a walk or to the library, and they'd say, the prince said you must rest. none of them seemed all too apologetic. you would not recognize them most of the time. whenever you'd see the mountain standing guard, looming and heavily-built, terrifying in his presence, you'd merely shut the door without speaking to him. no one truly scared you at the red keep, but the mountain? he brought chills down your spine. why he had not gone with lord kang was beyond you, but perhaps the king did not mind such a terror in his kingsguard.

sometimes your keeper was yeosang, and on those days you'd open your chamber doors and have a short conversation with him.

oftentimes, it was merely you asking what was going on.

yeosang would shrug in response, or give you a cheeky smile and say, the usual without elaboration.

the days were slow and dull, and you spent more time than not leaning against the barred windows and watching the tiny specks of people go about their day, the bustling of king's landing trickling up to your barred window or sprawled on your bed staring at the high ceilings.

you started counting the days. you hadn't counted much in a while - you used to count your name days, but that was a thing of the past.

~.~.~.~.~

"do you plan to keep me here forever?"

you sat in the middle of your bed, watching as hongjoong stepped into the chambers. the mountain was guarding the door today, his large form darkening the doorway, so you'd spent your day ignoring the goosebumps trickling up your spine whenever you looked towards your chamber doors.

hongjoong kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his robes before he turned to you.

he said, "if that is what you need, then yes."

"what does that mean?"

"it does not concern you."

you scowled, "hongjoong."

hongjoong turned then, to really look at you, and there was a softness there in his expression you did not expect as his eyes flickered over your expression. he always did revel in your anger.

"my father has gone past madness, and your presence will only drive him further into the darkness," hongjoong said, finally. "i am keeping you safe."

you had not known this, and the information made your stomach churn. in your chambers, you did not even have access to irene and her little birds, though you did not wish to alert that network to any watching eyes anyway.

you asked, "by locking me away in your chambers?"

"yes."

he responded so quickly. he was so full of righteousness. you buried the urge to grow angrier. instead, you spoke into the quiet silence, trying for softness.

"you could just send me away, you know," you said, "instead of locking me away like this."

hongjoong stiffened, his fingers curling around the back of his chair.

slowly, you pushed yourself from your bed and stepped closer to him, until you were an arms-length from him. you knew he would not agree, yet somehow you felt you could convince him, somehow. or at least ensure that you would not remain imprisoned here, delegated to the same fate as his mother, to yet another cage. you wished he would set you free, for once.

you pressed your hand to the one he had clenched around the back of his chair, his rings cold against your palms. he did not flinch away, and hope flickered in your heart. for a moment, he leaned into your touch, his gaze settling over your eyes, your nose, your lips.

"send me to -" you swallowed, suddenly nervous, "send me away from king's landing. to sunspear, even?"

hongjoong pressed his other hand over your fingers, wrapping his hands around yours. his eyes remained fixed on your interlocked hands.

you spoke hurriedly, your voice quiet so as not to disturb the tension between you both, "it's safe there. my brothers won't hurt me. you can trust them."

hongjoong let go of your hand then, turning to fully face you. his fingers fell entirely from your grasp. the hope you felt was long gone, kindling for the fire in your heart.

he reached up and pressed his fingertips to your cheeks, a gentle, feather-like touch. he brushes his thumb along your jaw as his eyes flickered between yours once more. eyes, nose, lips, dark eyes like scorched earth.

he said, "how do i know that?"

"hongjoong-"

hongjoong cut your off with a shake of his head, "you are not dornish, y/n. not anymore. you are a kim. you are safest here. with me and my dragons."

he left then, shutting the bath door behind him.

~.~.~.~.~

a fortnight passed when you opened the door to check who was your keeper today. the sun had set and your dinner was already delivered by the servants. they'd entered your chambers while you'd been pacing, and you knew they'd whisper you'd gone mad when they left.

yeosang stood at attention by your door.

you asked, "will you be here tomorrow?"

yeosang usually would not answer your bolder questions, but tonight he seemed to take pity on you. an infuriating thought, really, but you'd gone too long alone to care much that people only ever interacted with you due to pity these days. the furrow between yeosang's brows, you've noticed, had become a permanent fixture on his expression. it did not quite suit him. you missed the mischief in his eyes from your younger days.

"not tomorrow." yeosang said, "but the day after."

"i'd love some ale," you said, with a grin you hoped was enticing.

he frowned at you. you dropped your smile.

you said, matching his frown "it's dreadfully boring in here, ser yeosang. i would not ask you otherwise"

"i'm sure it is, sweet thing," yeosang eyed your chambers , his expression growing apprehensive. "fine, i'll bring some."

"really?"

"you are much too excited for something as simple as ale, your grace."

you'd rolled your eyes in response, shutting the door behind in his face.

~.~.~.~.~

you were never meant for passivity. even when you'd first stepped onto the shores of king's landing, you'd been quite proactive in your distaste of westerosi traditions, of hongjoong's comments, of yeosang's prodding, of your septa's nagging.

to think that you were now relegated to such a passive lifestyle, escorted to the godswoods by your septa and your kingsguard keeper once a day just to leave the confines of your chambers, your meals brought to you by the servants, left to rot in your too-big bed, in your too-big chambers, while the madness churned throughout the seven kingdoms - it had you standing at the barred windows wondering if you could pry open the bars and toss yourself to your death just to have something to do. sometimes, you saw wisps of greenfire from the courtyards, and you were glad at least the mad king maintained a routine throughout all this. even when the essence of nightshade hidden in the deepest folds of your drawers called to you, you remained passive. too cowardly to die, and too cowardly to want to live, merely withering under the same fate you were so adamantly trying to escape.

hongjoong was kind to you sometimes - he brought you books from the library some nights, or he drew you your baths - but he was the reason for this. he knew it, and you knew it, and he knew you knew it.

you hadn't seen or heard from mingi. you did not ask hongjoong or yeosang about him.

so when you opened your door one night, and yeosang stood at attention, you let the fire in your stomach, in your veins, in your heart, burn so bright, so hot, it felt the way dragonfire had on your skin that night so long ago.

yeosang pulled out two metal flasks from his pack.

you peered at the large containers, grimacing at the strong acidic smell as you opened one of the flasks. the smell burned your nostrils and still had it at arms-length. "that's not ale."

"it's stronger," he said, with a shrug. "i thought you'd need it."

you grinned as you took a swig of the flask. the alcohol burned as you swallowed and you grimaced at the taste. you had not had liquor in a long time, not since you'd left your chambers and joined yeosang, mingi, and hongjoong in post-tourney festivities. that had been so, so long ago. yeosang chuckled at your grimace, before he gestured to your chambers.

"glad you like it," yeosang said, "now leave me to my duties."

you frowned, "it is bad manners to let someone drink alone, you know."

yeosang's brows furrowed in confusion, "i'd have thought i would be your last choice for a drinking partner."

"fortunately for you, your company is better than no company."

"ouch, your grace," yeosang pressed a hand to his heart, his eyes twinkling as it used to. "your tongue has gotten sharper."

"you could tell hongjoong to let me free. i find without practice, my social skills have become quite unsightly."

yeosang snorted before he shook his head. you took another swig of the flask, your throat burning as you swallowed, your cheeks warming already, and yeosang's eyes followed the movement, his brows furrowing once more. he said, "i was told to stand guard here. not drink."

you frowned at him, "fine, then i'll join you."

yeosang shook his head, "you are to remain in your chambers."

"i thought orders were merely suggestions to you."

yeosang rolled his eyes, "sometimes. but not these."

"fine," you dragged one of the stools in the sitting room of your chambers to the door, propping the heavy wooden door open. then you took a seat at the threshold, the doorway dividing the two of you. you looked up at yeosang, "i can drink like this, and you can have some if you'd like. i'll remain in my chambers, and you at the door."

yeosang peered down at you for a long, long moment. it was reminiscent of the time you both discussed what you had done to mingi. however, this time, he was not as furious. his eyes twinkled in amusement, but there was something else there - something you saw often in hongjoong's eyes these days, in the eyes of your septa as well when she'd take you to the godswood to 'pray as a proper king's spouse should'. you thought it melancholic.

after a moment, he bent to take a seat beside the door, facing the hall, his back pressed to the door hinge. the metal of his armor clinked loudly against the stone floors. it reminded you of mingi.

yeosang was not quite facing you, and it was strange to find it fitting of him, as if you knew him in some way. you did, did you not? you knew him as long as you knew hongjoong and mingi. very soon, you would know him, and hongjoong, and mingi, the red keep and king's landing, longer than you have known your brothers and parents and dorne. soon you would no longer be dornish, as hongjoong had said.

you took a bigger swig from the flask at that thought, wrinkling your nose at the taste.

"was this difficult to get?" you asked.

"no."

"what is the red keep like these days?"

"the same as it always is."

"you're quite entertaining, ser yeosang." you drawled, injecting all the sarcasm you could into your tone.

yeosang gave you a sidelong glance, "you talk too much, your grace."

so you asked more questions, and yeosang provided more vague answers.

whenever he was stationed outside your door, he brought you ale, liquor, or even sweets from the kitchen. you propped open your chambers doors. you asked questions. yeosang barely answered.

it became the highlight of your long, drawn out days.

~.~.~.~.~

hongjoong entered your chambers, servants scurrying all about in his wake. they were packing.

you frowned, "what is going on?"

"i am going north," he said, distractedly, "to winterfell."

you blinked, once, twice, three times. you whispered, "just you?"

and you did not mean for that curl of anguish at the pit of your stomach to drip into your voice. you did not mean to live in limbo for so long, only to feel as if you've been doused in ice water. hongjoong hadn't touched you, hadn't truly spoken to you, for a long, long, long time.

yet, this time your heart stilled.

hongjoong looked up at you, his fingers wrapped in his warmest cloak, black and red spilling from his fingers like blood and dragonscales.

your chest felt constricted as you stared down at him. you said, "you're leaving me here?"

"i am keeping you safe," hongjoong said, voice low. the servants continued to dash throughout the chambers, their footsteps echoing all around you, ringing in your ears, "the rebellion draws closer to king's landing by each day and i must head north to secure allies."

the rebellion. the rebellion, the rebellion, the rebellion, the rebellion. those words rang loud as the bells of a bell tower. there was a war, and no one told you. you were in danger, and no one told you. hongjoong told you nothing. no one told you, and you were going to remain here. like a bird in a gilded cage, you would remain in an empty castle while hongjoong secured his other possessions.

"the rebellion?" your voice cracked. you felt horror and relief and anger and terror and so many other emotions. hongjoong's gaze softened when he looked at you, strangely enough. he stood, pushing his blond hair from his eyes as he waved his hands.

"jongho's rebellion," hongjoong said, with a questioning frown. "you did not know?"

something flipped in you then, something that always flipped when you were in the presence of hongjoong's nonchalance. you seethed, "how would i know? how would i know when you've locked me away all this time?!"

your exclamation echoed off the walls. the movement in the room stilled. hongjoong waved his hands and the servants scurried from the room.

your chambers were too quiet.

jongho's rebellion rang in your ears. suddenly, the brothel visits made sense. why, you did not know, as they were brothers by all but blood, the chois and hongjoong, yet here you stood seething as hongjoong closed his eyes and pushed his hair from his eyes. "the details do not matter. jongho and san are traitors who must be dealt with, and this decision will keep you safe. i am keeping you safe. you are a target, y/n."

"then take me with you."

"no."

"why? because of seonghwa?"

"you are safest in the red keep."

"you told me i am safest with you."

"y/n, you are staying here."

you knew then, that there was no changing his mind. so you stepped closer, your anger turning to a sort of desperation you never meant to show kim hongjoong. you said, "then let me go return to yunho. to sunspear."

"so dorne can join the jongho's rebellion? so you can join san?" hongjoong snapped, venom lacing his tone, the same kind of venom the mad king held when he spoke of dorne. his eyes darkened, "absolutely not."

"fine!" you grit your teeth, "do the kims not have their own stronghold? from the old days? what of dragonstone? let me go there, at the very least."

you'd seen it on maps and read of it in an old, tattered book in the library. dragonstone was a castle situated on an island of the same name, and it was the stronghold for house kim before house targaryen moved to the red keep. the castle was used on occasion, and last you heard the queen was sent there by the mad king. the mad king remained at king's landing. the rebellion was headed this way.

"you will stay here, y/n," hongjoong reached out and cupped your cheek, his dark eyes flickering between yours. he spoke with a finality that made you want to scream.

desperation clawed under your skin, up your throat, lived inside you. you knew he would keep you in this gilded cage next to his father, open to danger from every which way, and you were reacting as a caged animal would. he did not care, you realized, as he watched you struggle with picking your next words. he did not care. he did not think.

you bit out, "with your mad father?"

hongjoong shook his head, brushing his thumb along your hairline, "he will not hurt you. i will keep a guard posted."

hongjoong was fleeing. the realization sent a chill down your spine. hongjoong was fleeing without you.

you'd never, not once, begged him of anything, even when he touched you. but as you stood there, desperation clawing at your skin. this decision would damn you to a terrible fate, and the way hongjoong looked at you, as if he did not understand the desperation clawing its way through you, made you want to shake him by the shoulders. jongho was rebelling, lord kang left king's landing, the queen was sent to dragonstone, and hongjoong was fleeing north. only the mad king remained. there was no hope left here.

you were being left for dead. or worse.

"hongjoong, please help me," you pleaded, fingers curling around the sleeve of his black and red robes. "just this once. please let me go anywhere but here."

you could have sworn that hongjoong’s eyes lit up, even as he stroked your cheek to comfort you. your grip on his sleeve tightened in hope. maybe he would listen?

his eyes fell to your fist, and he reached with his other hand to curl it around your wrist. his thumb grazed along your burn scar, and he observed it for a long moment before he returned his gaze to you.

your heart sank to the pit of your stomach when he murmured, "i’ve helped you time and time again already, y/n. this time you will stay and that is final."

you clutched at his sleeve once more. he peered down at your tight grip.

"then stay by my side," you forced restraint, if only to maintain some sort of dignity. you leaned close, blinking away the sting of tears, and said as softly as you could, "i want you to stay with me."

hongjoong smiled. he shook your hand from his sleeve. he circled both hands around your wrist, his thumb pressing into the burn scar there. there was a twinkle of satisfaction in his eyes, but there was no regret. he said, "i will return to you soon, my love. believe me."

you had no other choice, you both knew.

and so, you stayed.

~.~.~.~.~

#ateez angst #hongjoong angst #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #got au #ateez

[mingiswow]

Chapter 01

CW: hate speech; hate comments; mentions of sexual assault; mentions of homelessness; mentions of drugs; mentions of eating disorders and diet culture, commentary on the industry, YN is introduced as mixed-race, half being Korean, and the other part is never mentioned.

YN's POV

“Soloist yn yln was recently seen at a restaurant in Hongdae with k-hiphop rising star Lee Ryuk” “The love is in the air: yn yln was spotted in Hongdae with Lee Ryuk” “More than just a song, yn yln and Lee Ryuk were seen together in Hongdae this weekend” 1. [+568, -0] Wow I can’t believe they are together. She's so much better alone. He’s just not worthy of her. 2. [+499, -5] yn and Ryuk are great singing together but I don’t want them to be dating.  3. [+486, -0] I just can’t accept that she did that to us! Ryuk is not good for her! 4. [+320, -67] You are all complaining about Ryuk but he’s the best thing yn could get. She’s just famous because she’s the niece of a Chaebol.  5. [+309, -0] Ryuk is not a good man. He smokes and drinks like an old man, yn deserves someone much better and that will treat her right. I bet it is fake. 6. [+225, -6] yn is a grown woman and she can do what she wants but that doesn’t mean I agree with her choices, she deserves so much more than a man-child like him. He mocked a lot of people before and was not held accountable. I don’t believe yn would date him. 7. [+175, -0] I won’t be a yn fan anymore if she confirms to be dating Lee Ryuk. I don’t want to be connected to these types of people.

My manager sighed by my side, her nails insistently tapping on her phone screen, probably dealing with my problems.

“Can you stop reading those stupid comments?” she spoke, her eyes still glued to her phone. The woman didn't even have to turn to you to know what you were doing. 

“I’m being massacred by a relationship that is already over” I turned my head to the window, watching as the quiet morning started to slowly awake. The buzzing started to slowly increase as people started to leave their houses for work. Seoul waking up.

Then there was silence, a quiet agreement between us both that I needed my space and peace before having to deal with the storm of fans outside the music show studio.

My mind was racing with thoughts. I felt guilty, ashamed, embarrassed. All my company’s staff worked hard for me to be where I was in my career; all for me to ruin it because of a shitty fuckboy, because I was dumb enough to fall for his words and charm. 

My management company was nicer than most of the ones in the business, allowing me to be - somewhat - free since I was their biggest name. My albums, shows and merch being their biggest source of income. 

I met Ryuk when we collaborated on one of his songs. He was the rapper, and I was the soothing voice on the chorus and bridge. He was a very talented man, one or two years younger than me, and having debuted a few months more than a year ago. He was nothing but nice, sweet and kind to me, saying romantic and flirty stuff all the time, treating me like a princess. So, me, being the hopeless romantic that I am, fell for him, blinded by all his red flags. 

Ryuk liked to play it cool to the public eye, saying stuff just for the clout, and acting like someone he did not seem to be. Not that I didn’t do that, it was part of our job after all, playing an act for the people who watched us. But his problem was that he was getting more and more problematic with his words. And the worst part was that his company was encouraging him.

Then he started to act like that with me after a few months of dating, showing his true self, ditching our dates - that it took us weeks of preparing since our schedules were always so full - to go out for smoking and drinking with his friends, coming back to my apartment completely drunk and high, asking for things I wasn’t comfortable to give him yet. Not that I was a virgin, it was that I wasn’t comfortable enough with him to do it.

The final drop was when one night he appeared in my apartment out of his mind trying to force me to sleep with him and when I refused he started yelling, spitting at me that I was a prude, then I was a whore, the throwing a bunch of gifts I had just received from my fans on the ground and walls, breaking and destroying them.

Last night we finally met at the same restaurant where he asked me to be his official girlfriend almost a year ago. I forgot to make a reservation so our table was a little visible from the windows, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to end all of this. So I did. I broke up with him and I was really glad I did in a public setting, otherwise, he would probably throw a tantrum. He just resumed his madness sending me a fudging paragraph of a text message, and proceeding to wait for my reaction. The text was far from nice, saying all the worst things and calling me all the worst names someone I thought once loved me could say. But I guess it’s better being written than screamed at my face in front of a bunch of unknown people.

I was so out of my mind, and, not gonna lie, relieved, that I failed to notice the crowd of fansites and paparazzi waiting for us outside the restaurant when we left. I just wanted to leave that place, to go back to my apartment and cry like a little kid in the arms of my manager. No. To cry like a grown woman who had her heart and trust broken.

“The director said we can have a meeting after the recording, is that okay?” I hummed confirming, still not looking at the woman by my side. “YN, sweetie, I know it’s a hard thing for you but soon a new scandal will appear and everyone will forget it” her soft hand caressed the top of my head and down my arms, squeezing my hand warmly.

“I know. I just feel so… disappointed in myself” I turned my attention finally back to her and met her motherly expression looking at me. “All the signs were there and I still chose to ignore it. I’m sorry”.

“Don’t be” Jiah shook her head, her smile never disappearing. “If the director says anything to you, I’m here to defend you, ‘kay? You’re my little girl and I’ll fight for you with my life” I chuckled and nodded, laying my head on her shoulder and letting a few teardrops fall.

Being a soloist was hard, especially after leaving my previous small company when the failed group I debuted in disbanded for an even smaller one. And even more, being a mixed-race idol. But I didn’t give up. I couldn’t give up. Not after so much work put on it. It was my biggest dream, even if that meant I’d have to go under extreme diets, plastic surgery, and training sessions that would last longer than my body could stand.

But I was lucky enough to be found and signed by my current company, they were far from my previous one. And the other ones around. They didn’t pressure me both physically and mentally, they wanted me to be true to myself and my art, wanted me to make good music, with soul, purpose. In the beginning, I didn’t debut per se, I was launched as a regular Korean singer,  outside the k-pop industry. The company, and myself included, didn’t mind if I stayed in the indie valley of Korean music, being known only inside the country, but after my first EP and music video as a solo artist was released, I regained a lot of my fans back, as well as new ones that truly enjoyed my music. I was praised by netizens and music websites articles for my raw and emotional music, which I always proudly said I was the one writing and even helping produce. 

After a few more releases, I was finally invited to participate in my first music show stage.  The rest was just a huge domino effect. Music shows, comebacks, officially being part of the K-Pop Industry™, participating in variety shows, and even having my own vlog series on my YouTube channel.

Me, my company, and all the staff were really happy with my success because they didn’t know if I was going to make it further than a few music shows appearances due to the way I was free to be the most of myself. Truth be told, the industry is merciless, those who don’t look the same, act the same, and even sound the same are ostracized, judged, bullied. I saw some of the prettiest people in the country being bullied online for such stupid things, things that did not make sense anywhere else but this industry. But I made it, I was the point outside the curve, the spark of hope for a change in the business, a role model for girls and boys who looked just like me.

The buzz of the city started to fade in the background as the loud screams of fans outside the studio started to increase closer and closer I got from it. I felt my hands clammy with anxiety, the rate of my heart increased absurdly fast and my breath become quick, short and shallow.

JIah was the first to leave the car, the square sunglasses framing her face perfectly as she walked with her perfect posture, making her look even more professional, and dare me say, scary. She was respected and loved among my fans, everyone knew how hard she worked for me and I always made sure to thank her every time I had the opportunity.

I took a few deep breaths before leaving the black car, shaking my head trying to make the bad thoughts go away and just focus on my fans and performance. As soon I left the car, I was flooded with even louder screams and flashing lights everywhere I looked. If there I was something I would never get used was the camera flashes going off all at the same time. They blinded me and made my head hurt, it even became a joke among my fans that from ten pictures taken of me, nine I would have my face scrunched or my eyes closed.

I bowed and waved to my fans, loads of them holding signs and gifts. I looked over at my manager who bowed her head and I went to talk to the people gathered in the cold air to get a chance to see me. Even after all these years, I still don’t get used to the fact that these people came to see me, to support me and my art. I smiled happily as I signed their albums, pictures, and notebooks, took some selfies with them, recorded special videos for their friends who couldn’t be there. 

I was really glad none of them brought the Ryuk issue up, only asking questions about my music, my comeback, if I had eaten or drunk coffee already, or even saying loving words about my work.

I made a few more poses for the ridiculous amount of cameras before bowing and sending flying kisses to the people and entered the studio, the warmth of the place’s heating system embracing me like a plush comforter was wrapped around my shoulders.

My lungs took the deepest breath I could, the anxiety slowly fading and taking place by another type of anxiety, this one more manageable and already known to my body.

“YN~ssi, please follow me” a girl a few years older than me, and a face of a few friends, called for me and my team. I followed her suit as I bowed and smiled at the other staff and a few other idols I met on the way, making sure everyone was treated equally. “Your performance is in a bit more than an hour, I’ll be calling you fifteen minutes before you go up on stage, make sure to be ready on time” I nodded and she left the room.

“She could at least pretend” Jiah spoke as the door closed in front of us, going straight to the table of goods. I always wondered if the other groups had the same table as me, and if they had, if they were allowed to eat. “Ugh! I love mubank so much, they have the best coffee” the woman grabbed two of the paper cups, giving one of them to me, which I gladly accepted.

After a few sips of coffee, my team finally started to work their magic on me as one of them recorded me for my vlog. 

My concept for this comeback was easily on the list of my favorite ones, it was very colorful, almost decora-like, inspired by the aesthetic of the early 2000’s. My hair was painted in a beautiful pastel shade of pink with half of my bangs and a single thick strand of hair in the front dyed blue. My hairstylist put it up in two high pigtails braided with extensions to make them look fuller and longer. I loved this look so much, It made me feel like a teenager again, being a little rebellious and experimental with my fashion and hair.

When I first debuted I was only sixteen, practically a child, with a mind even younger and immature due to years of training and lack of social interactions outside the company and the girls who would later debut with me. I wasn’t fully aware of the implications of our concept back then, I was just happy that I managed to debut. Being the maknae, I was constantly babied by the girls, the company, and our fans. But some of the fans - especially older men - were very… creepy, to say the least, with me. Both in person and online. I remember being scared of going to fan signs and fan meetings. And reading the things they’d say about me and my body online always made me sick, I hated it. But the company used me and my popularity among those men to the group’s advantage. As the comebacks passed, my clothes started to get smaller and smaller, to the point where my safety shorts were appearing. The choreographies became more explicit and sexual, and I felt like my parts, the ones where I was the the center, were even nastier. 

But, to my company's dismay, that didn’t stop your group from flopping. Two of the girls left due to unfair treatment and payment. They tried to replace them by putting three new members but only a few months after that one of the new girls got involved in a drug and cheating scandal and was kicked out of the group. The company started to treat us badly, not promoting us properly, and abusing us both mentally and physically, until the only two other original members besides me placed a lawsuit against our manager, an old disgusting man, who assaulted us. I didn’t have the money to pay a lawyer to sue them, but I got happy like I did when they won the case. The group was then disbanded and the company shut down.

After that, I felt lost, terrible, useless. I lost all my sense of self. That group was everything I had, everything I was. Without them, who was I? What I was going to do from then on?

For months, I used the little money left to stay at cheap hotels and look for places to work as I also looked for open auditions for other companies. I got severe allergies and rashes from bed bugs and other microscopic beings living in those old beds. I tried to reach what was left of my family but nobody answered, not that I expected them to, but it never hurts to try. 

After all my money was gone, I spent a few weeks going from house to house of my former members, who I still kept and keep contact with, but they also had their issues and I didn’t want to bother them any further. 

Then an angel appeared in my life. Jiah. She met me at my most vulnerable moment. I was sick, anemic, starving. I was living on the streets when she found me and recognized me. Jiah then took me to her house and gave me a warm shower, warmer food, and even warmer clothes. At the time she had a boring office job and was struggling with her at-the-time fiancé. She asked for a sign, something that showed her she needed to change, to leave everything behind and start all over. She considered me her sign. So, after that, she left her fiancé, and figured out she was lesbian, and all that pent-up anger inside her was her internalized homophobia crushing her. She left her job and started to work freelance for some of her previous clients. The real change came when I asked her to become my manager after I signed my new contract. 

Since then, she’s been by my side, being the manager I always needed and the mother I always wanted. 

“Fifteen” I heard the staff’s voice from before sound from the door, awakening me from my trip to memory lane. I was so lost, so disassociated from reality that I even realized I had my hair and makeup done, as well as dressed up.

“How long was I out for?” I asked Jiah, her eyes never leaving her tablet, already used to my moments of introspection. 

“Almost an entire hour” she answered and turned to look at me. “Try not to disassociate when doing other stuff, doll” she winked and nudged my side with a smirk, my cheeks heating at her comment. “Let’s go before I have to deal with that girl again”. 

We both left the dressing room and were met with another group in front of your door coming back from their performance. Their hairs were sweaty, falling to their faces and some of them had even taken part of their outfit off. I saw a camera behind them before bowing politely since they were my sunbaes, well, at least from my solo debut perspective. I excused myself before leaving for my performance but not without noticing a few murmurs and noises from the boys getting behind.

“I think you have famous fans” I jokingly slapped Jiah, giggling as I felt my cheeks heat a little.

Taglist: @venusmoonxnight @hanstarrs @mrskill2 @cupidcures @yoontaethings

#kpop #kpop x reader #stray kids #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop headcanons #kpop fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung fanfic #han jisung fanfiction #jisung #jisung x reader #jisung fanfic

[crazychaoticizzy]

hear me OUT

we have a nightmare and cant sleep and every noise startles us, so we text german!armin that we cant sleep and in not even 5 minutes later hes at our place helping us sleep (me last night fr)

armin helps you sleep

note: BCOQNPS YES OMG THIS IS SO CUTE IM LISTENING BRO

When you’re unable to go back to sleep after having a nightmare, you’re surprised that Armin comes to help you

WARNINGS: fluff, you’re unable to sleep, Armin is German, reader’s race isn’t specified but they know Spanish, I’m also fairly certain this is gender neutral? Not sure might have slipped a she or something somewhere lmk if I did, hints of insomnia if you look really really closely, this can be read as a part two to Google Translate, but it’s not necessarily

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

AOT Masterlist

You jump in your sleep, waking abruptly to find yourself still laying in your bed. You look around for a moment, assuring yourself that nothing seems amiss before exhaling and closing your eyes again.

You’re not entirely sure what you had dreamed about, but you knew it was enough to startle you. The dream disappeared almost as soon as you woke up, but it left behind a lingering feeling of somebody watching you…

The clock read 2:05 am. Too early for you to get up and start your day.

You tried falling back asleep, but you felt even more unsafe with your eyes closed. You wouldn’t be able to see if anyone came up on you…

You jumped slightly at the wind pushing a branch against your window. You let out a breath of relief when you realized it was nothing, attempting to fall back asleep.

Not even a minute later you heard scratching, which continued on for a few moments before you heard footsteps scampering away. A squirrel.

You needed to calm down. You’re getting in your own head and freaking yourself out. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest.

You decide to take a small walk around your apartment, getting out of bed and turning on the lights before pacing a few times. No more sounds were heard, and you had calmed down a bit so you decided to go back to sleep.

Upon getting comfortable, an airplane flew over your building, scaring the living daylights out of you. You let out an exasperated breath, laying on your back for a moment before grabbing your headphones.

You played an instrumental playlist you had, hoping it would calm you down and you could sleep again.

Except you kept pausing it every couple of seconds because you keep hearing noises.

You eventually decided to veto the music idea, putting your headphones back on your nightstand before checking the time.

2:57 am.

You had already been up for almost an hour worrying about nothing.

You grabbed the plastic bottle from your nightstand and drank, but that only woke you up more.

You definitely weren’t getting to sleep anytime soon.

You mindlessly began scrolling through TikTok, continuously sending your boyfriend the links to watch when he wakes up.

What completely slipped your mind was that he was the world’s lightest sleeper, and that your messages were the only ones that came through the do not disturb barrier he had on at all times.

You quickly opened his messages to apologize, forgetting what you were originally going to do as soon as the keyboard was staring at you.

Instead you went on a bit of a rant about why you were awake, adding in some lighthearted and friendly vocabulary to make it seem like it wasn’t a problem.

bro i had the wildest dream

i dont know what it was about but it was kinda scary ngl

i kinda forgot it when i woke up

anyways every sound has been scaring me for the past hour and i cant go back to sleep 🥲

it’s ok tho cause i dont have anything to do tomorrow

i think

maybe who knows

anyways i’ll leave you alone and let you sleep sorry about that

please go back to sleep dont worry about me

ily amor <3

You clicked off your phone, determined to no longer text Armin and bother the little sleep he gets.

Except not even five minutes later you heard the hinges on your front door creak, and soon after you saw Armin in your doorway.

He was still wearing his pajamas, a white T-shirt and black sweats, and he looked exhausted. You couldn’t see him well in the dim light of your room, but you could tell he was tired by his sluggish movements.

“Armin,” you said, sitting up. “I told you not to worry about it and go back to sleep.”

“No, it’s fine.” He yawned, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.”

He had a mild German accent during the day. You couldn’t hear it unless you were listening for it or he was speaking German, but now, while he was tired and delirious, it was much more prominent.

He took a couple steps to your bed, holding something out to you. “Here’s salt for your weird tradition thing.”

“It’s not weird,” you defended, taking the salt shaker from his hand. “Armin, go back home and sleep. I’m fine, I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He shook his head, humming. “Nope. I’m already here.”

“Then take my bed and sleep. I’ll go in the living room so you can rest without noise or disturbance. You sound tired.”

“I’m wide awake, mein Schatz. I’m not tired.” He yawned again, turning to walk out of your room. “I’m gonna make you tea.”

You sighed, removing the blankets from yourself and standing up to follow him into the hallway. “Armin, go to sleep. It’s obvious you’re tired, and you don’t get much sleep anyways. I don’t want to make you get less than you already do…”

He turned, suddenly wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. He walked back to your room, ignoring your continuous protests. He laid you back down, hovering above you for a moment.

“I don’t mind not getting sleep if it’s because of you.” Looking at his face, he didn’t seem tired. His blue eyes were clear and wide open, but you could see the light circles under them from this close. “Du bist meine Liebe, und ich liebe dich mit meinen ganzen Wesen. Let me do this for you.”

Sometimes when he was tired he forgot words in English, so he spoke to you in German. You didn’t know what he was saying, and it often times didn’t matter since it was mostly babbles about how much he loved you, but you sometimes got the basic jist of it.

“I feel bad, though. You already don’t sleep great,” you said.

“And that’s okay. I want to do this for you, so let me.”

You stared at him for a moment, admiring the look he had in his eyes and the way his jaw was set.

“Fine. But promise you’ll lay down and get sleep after.”

He softly smiled at you. “I will, mein Schatz.”

He left a lingering kiss on your forehead before pushing himself up and leaving your room. You heard a few things knock together in the kitchen, and you let out an exasperated breath. You almost hated that he was always so willing to sacrifice his own well being for yours.

Armin was carrying a light blue mug when he came back. You sat up as he set it on your nightstand.

“Thank you,” you said. You grabbed his hand as he was pulling it away from the mug, leaving a soft kiss on his fingertips.

He smiled at you. “Did you eat some of your Voodoo-Zauber salt?”

“Amor, I swear to god it works and it’s normal.” You jokingly rolled your eyes, reaching for the salt shaker. “But no, not yet.”

Armin shrugged, climbing over you to lay down beside you. “I don’t know. I sounds like a quick way to get dehydrated.”

“You drink water with it, pendejo,” you joked, laughing as you poured a small amount of the fine white salt into your palm.

“How dare you call me a pendejo.” Armin laughed, moving under your blankets and wrapping an arm around your lap as you took the salt like a shot. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You smiled as you brushed your hands together and reached for the mug on your nightstand. “You’re very pretty, too,” you replied before taking a sip of the lavender tea. You gently rubbed his arm while returning the cup to its position, readjusting yourself to lay down beside him.

He moved his arm to your waist, pulling you so you laid flush against him. He rested his head against your chest, breathing in your scent.

“Ich liebe dich.”

You smiled, kissing the top of his head. “Yo tambien te amo. Now go to sleep, okay?”

He nodded, softly kissing you. “You, too.”

You hummed, beginning to run your hands through his short blond hair to help him doze off. He did so quickly, his soft snores being the only sound filling the air.

You smiled, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his head so you didn’t wake him before allowing yourself to fall asleep as well.

this was such a cute idea thank you so much <33

also y’all, is the salt thing normal??? do other people like eat salt when they get startles or nervous to calm themselves down??? cause it’s something i do and only recently realized that no one i know does it

im also realizing my warnings for these things are getting a bit unhinged i apologize for that

anyways hope y’all enjoyed

-Izzy <3

#izzy’s imagines ❀ #attack on titan #aot #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin attack on titan #snk armin #armin aot #aot armin #armin fluff #armin arlet #armin headcanons #armin arlert x reader #armin

[paellaplease]

12. liberosis - the desire to care less about things.

pairing: revali x reader part: 5 of 6 summary: on the night of calamity ganon’s attack, you find yourself thrown back a week into the past, waking up outside the door of an unusual rito with deep blue feathers.

Read from the beginning

It was pitch black the moment you awoke not for the first time that night. With a cool draft hitting your back, you rolled over in discomfort. The blankets had been stolen, again. 

You tried to free the heavy knitted layer, but just like the previous time it was completely cocooned around him. Grumbling, you released the blanket and opted to press a knuckle into your temple. A horrid pain was beating at the back of your head, rattling your already sleep-addled thoughts. 

The pulse at your wrist was racing, and accompanied by your shallow breaths you knew you were having another episode. 

Even before this recent development, waking up like this was not uncommon. Though your body was reborn and made anew, the mind continued to retain memories from past lives. 

Night terrors were familiar territory for the company you kept. Though the subject matter was something different entirely, and something you wisely chose to keep to yourself. No matter how much effort you dedicated in repressing them, it wasn’t enough to expunge the pain completely. After all, even the hardest of metals lose strength over time. 

And so it led to events like these. Where your body was already panicking, anticipating a fight even after the restful void of sleep.

There was an annoying ringing in your ear. Great, that’s new. You thought to yourself in frustration. As if sleeping wasn’t difficult enough.

It took a bit of tugging to pull the blanket closer, but eventually you had it wrapped around you again. Like clockwork, your breaths fell into the rhythm of an old exercise. You had done it so many times that you had forgotten where you had learned it. It was well worn, like an old coat that had sheltered you from many a storm. 

Inhale, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four. Exhale, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four.

It had helped somewhat. The pain had lessened, though the dull ringing was still heard in your ear. Growing louder and louder. Some other tones began to join along with it, forming a noise that began to sound suspiciously like…conversation. 

Perhaps I am going mad. 

As you tossed and turned, the voices echoed. They were a choir of the old and young, the weak and the strong, stone-hardened and soft as meadow grass; ordering you to get up and run. Run? Your chest ached at the thought. Run where? 

Your bed partner then rolled to face you, throwing a wing over your waist. 

Oh. 

Okay. 

You were perfectly safe in this hammock. Though the frigid breezes from Hebra blew through the cloth coverings of the window, you were warmer than you had ever been. It was like sleeping next to a breathing pillow. Needy as it was. And despite your little fits, he did not even stir. 

You looked at him properly then, discerning his form in the darkened room. 

This was not the first time you had seen Revali asleep. You had both camped in the wilderness together and taken alternating shifts on watch when the moon had sat high in the heavens. 

Even on the field he slept like a perfect soldier, back straight and beak shut to a thin line. He was so silent you often wondered if he had been unconscious at all. Any noise deemed suspicious would wake him, his bow never far from reach in case of an ambush. 

Now…his eyes were closed, with not a wrinkle lingering on his brow. His beak hung slightly open, a little snore escaping from it as he drifted off in a deep sleep. 

There was no other way to react than in quiet disbelief. You ran a careful hand over his head, watching as a sea of feathers moved against your outstretched palm. Though soft, you could tell which were newly grown. A delicate patch revealing a history of previous injuries. Some were at his wings but most grew at the front of his chest, indicating they were sustained facing an enemy head on. 

You sighed, shaking your head and placing a light kiss over where his heart would be. “Fool,” you whispered fondly. 

As you pulled away you found that in the shadow of the night it was similar to viewing the inky void of a dark ocean. The feathers under your hand were blue. Soft as every suspiciously plush pillow in this village, and blue. Blue as the ink on your fingers. As Rigel in the constellation Orion. 

And you supposed he too was a dying star, with a core long since fated to destruction before you even met. But in this moment he was far enough that you could still see the light that rolled off him, resplendent. And not for the first time did you wonder if the stars knew of your own selfish thoughts. To hold on to the rattling hum of a shade as the supernova burned behind you, unforgiving and insurmountable. 

If you could keep him for yourself, you would. If the goddesses allowed it, more you would ask. More than his memory. More than one fragile plume which remained in your coat’s pocket like a constant companion. 

Never fraying, never destroyed. 

You leaned forward to press a kiss to his shoulder, but in that instance every restless spirit screamed out. 

You. Must. Go.

The pain behind your head flared again, as if you were struck dead on by a blunt object.

Coughing, you carefully extricated yourself from his hold. The tremble in your arms nearly sent you tumbling out of the hammock, the banister acting as your only support. It’s by some miracle that you latched on with ease, climbing your way back down without waking him and landing with a thud. 

The noise echoed, loud enough to rouse any sleeper. Dizzy, you forced yourself to remain quiet, watching nervously for any sign of movement from the hammock. 

A minute passed, then another. The voices raged in your head until you were nauseous. Sure that he was fast asleep, you turned back to the entrance and slipped on your shoes and coat. The voices followed you like angry echoes, urging you to move faster, waging war against your own wishes. 

Don’t look back. Weakness. Forward. Onward. Soles to dirt as wood is to ash. 

Before stepping over the threshold, a small noise rose over the cacophony in your head. It was quiet. So much so that it could have easily been mistaken as sleep addled murmurs or the creaking of a nearby tree. 

You were frozen still at the doorway when Revali called out your name.

It was whispered, as if in question into the darkness of his home. A shaky breath escaped you as your hands trembled by your sides. 

Both of you knew you were about to do something unforgivable. 

Just as well. It was always you disappointing him. In what world did you even deserve a fraction of his affections? You won’t…you couldn’t acknowledge it. Doing so would break you completely.   

Forward. Onward. 

You lurched to the side, slamming a hand on to the doorframe to steady yourself. The voices sang through your blood, picking at your fraying ends like the burnt off end of a cord. If you weren’t careful, you were going to be sick. 

He called out to you again, and despite your better judgment, you stopped and listened. 

“…please. Stay.” 

A flood of shame and guilt gripped at your already aching chest. There were no words that could fix this. 

“Go back to sleep. Don’t follow me, Revali.” 

The breeze which whispered from the doorway felt somewhat colder. You stood and listened, waiting for him to protest. To fight you. And you were ready to argue back through any means possible. 

But ultimately, in the stillness of his home, there came no reply. 

Good, you thought. Yet you remained standing at the door, stupidly hoping to hear something from him, anything. 

Just as you thought you saw the movement of blankets—Go. The voices commanded. 

And so you complied. The dim wooden ceiling of the hut became the infinite yawning expanse of the night sky. Finally outside, you clutched at your chest as if in deep pain, clouds of air leaving your lips as you tried and failed to breathe. But there was no time to mourn anything. Above you, the stars acted as silent witnesses, watching as you turned away from Revali’s home, listening to the voices and running into the night. 

The cold of the outside slammed into you full force, chilling you to the bone. It had begun to snow and even with your heavy coat you knew it would be an abysmal and chilly ride. 

Eimhin complained as you spurred her forward. You didn’t know where you were going, letting the chorus of voices lead you, becoming so loud that it rivaled even the howling of the Tabantha winds. 

Sun up, then sundown. You did not sleep. You did not eat. A supernatural force seemed to keep Eimhin going as well. Though you knew such things were unsustainable—the need to arrive at this unknown location eclipsed everything else. 

Finally, a building of darkened stone drew closer. It sat upon a hill, with the early dawn shining behind it like a beacon. Stained glass windows decorated every level like jewels on a crown. The heavy doors were wide open, with the combined smell of incense and burning candles wafting out into the open air and making your eyes water. 

The pain in your head grew worse. Not even the breathing exercise could temper it. 

With shaking legs you stepped off your horse. You made a break for the church’s spire entrance, climbing the steps by two at a time. 

At the top of the stairwell you stopped to catch your breath, shoulders heaving as the adrenaline from the past few days began to drain. The headache remained, days of enduring and finally it was lessened to a dull beating. You realised that you were afflicted by a fever as well, the violent sweats and shakes threatening to fold your legs from underneath you. 

Approaching an open window, you knelt beside it, resting your head on the ledge. A beautiful view of Hyrule Castle gleamed from the outside but you were too damn tired to enjoy any of it. 

Sleep. The voices urged you. 

“Now that,” you said to the empty tower. “I can do.” 

.

.

.

Planets and stars spun above you. The ceiling was but a vast, never ending canvas that stretched beyond your comprehension into the depths of gloom where dark blue faded into black. 

“—this is wholly inappropriate and a breach of the terms of our experiment. It is not within your rights to interfere.” 

“Be silent. Sibling. You gamble with time.” 

“I created time.” 

As the two goddesses argued, a warm breeze combed the hair away from your face, creating little waves in the water surrounding your supine body. 

‘Stand up, little sprout!’ Though no voice was heard, you could understand the command well enough. Your nose was filled with the smell of honey and jasmine, and like strings around a maypole untwirling, you felt the tension in your muscles be forcibly plucked up and released. 

You stood up, shivering and slightly disturbed. 

“Take me back,” you said. 

Though you could not see them, you felt all three godly presences suddenly turn to you. It took a lot of strength not to cringe under the weight of their collective judgment. Annoying as it was, you were practically a flea dancing under a magnifying glass, the concentrated point of holy light threatening to burn you into a crisp. 

“Behold. What your coddling has achieved. Sibling.” 

“I don’t appreciate your tone. You pulled them away once things were finally becoming interesting. It was their best run yet and you had to stick your meaty mittens into the stew!” 

“A sharpened sword. Wasted.” 

The water underneath your feet rippled. You felt something wet land on your head. Little drops of rain fell from the literal heavens above, hitting the pseudo-sea in gentle pitter patters. It reminded you uncannily of the sweetened notes of laughter. 

“Excuse me. It’s rude to carry a conversation about someone who is right here. Take me back. Now.” You said again, trying to add as much venom as you could to your voice though your exhaustion was evident. The headache had disappeared as soon as you awoke in this in-between world, but if you were to spend any more time listening to these deities argue, you were sure it would rear its ugly head back to torment you. 

“Be still my petulant spark, the adults are talking.” 

“I see anger. Vexation.” That other voice said, seeming to finally pay attention to you. 

“Of course I am angry,” You said, crossing your arms and scowling at the sky. “Why did you bring me here? I deserve an explanation—”

“Acceptable.” Was all you received in reply. There was a sound of protest from the other godly being, before the ocean gave way and you found yourself falling into the abyss. 

.

.

.

X—

The skin of your knees tore as you landed hard on the muddy ground. You caught your breath, shaking away the vertigo of being wrenched from your previous surroundings so abruptly. There were sounds of metal clashing and shields being bashed. It was difficult to discern where you were, let alone hear your own thoughts as you were plunged into the din. 

Groaning, you placed a hand to your face, surprised to feel the familiar surface of standard issue military metal. Your helmet. 

Before you had left the barracks, Revali had made you abandon it, arguing that it would be an eye-sore at Rito Village. In hindsight you knew he just wanted to see your face better. That very fact he had revealed to you the previous night, much to your delight and annoyance. 

Your heart clenched painfully. 

Now is not the time!  

Bottom line, you were wearing it now. And it was dented and wet, a line of liquid sliding down the side of it. You swiped a hand over the area, pulling back and realizing that the pads of your fingers were stained with the frank redness of fresh blood. 

A sword swung above you, and by instinct you heaved the Greatsword in your hands, blocking the blow easily. You kicked at your assailant’s knee, feeling the crack of bone under your boot as they went down. 

There was a whistling sound coming from behind your shoulder. You had a second to turn. The dagger sliced a line over the gap in your armor, barely missing your jugular. Pressing a hand to your neck, you felt the cut begin to bleed, dripping down to the collar of your tunic. 

Another whistling noise, another dagger cut through the air. Your heavy sword was lifted a moment too late as the sharp metal knocked back forcefully against your chest plate, staggering you backwards. 

The attacker was upon you immediately, light on their feet and quick with their daggers which were so fast they appeared as if from thin air. Digging your boots into the muddy ground, you held yourself like a strong pillar. You had fought quick opponents before, with the memory of graceful feathers followed by a volley of arrows coming to you unbidden. 

You exhaled a grunt of pain when a dagger cut through your side, followed by a swift kick to the injury. It would be easy to wince and double over, but the fire within you kept your eyes open. Your fist tightened over the handle of the Greatsword, and you saw it, there. A flash of white, and you feint as if to swing at them. 

They dodged to the side accordingly. You let one hand drop from the handle, using it to grab onto the enemy’s white hair. There is a burning feeling in your mind, as if something out there could read your thoughts. Whatever it was, they were pleased. 

Their cry of pain is lost in the chaos around you. The world you were pulled into had given in to bedlam as you slammed them into the ground. 

Before their head was severed, you saw their red eyes stare back at you. There was no fear. Only a blank acceptance of defeat. And in the reflection of the sword in your hands as you brought it down, you realized your eyes held the same emotion. 

“Power. It befits you.”

“A most cliche line, if I ever heard one.” You griped. Another enemy of similar appearance came running to you, enraged at the sight of their fallen comrade. You let the daggers glance over your arm, ignoring the stinging cut so as to allow yourself an opening to slip your sword between their ribcage. 

You could hear Revali chastising you for such a reckless maneuver. Survival isn’t as estranged from winning as you think, Stranger. 

The earth rumbled beneath your feet, and turning around you were given a split second to blink before you and many other soldiers from both sides were being flung through the air. The ground practically explodes as blood, muck and mud is flung. 

Landing hard on your side, you feel the muscles in your shoulder pull. Your hand was still wrapped around the hilt of your heavy sword. Clutching it in a death grip, you forced yourself to your feet, shielding your eyes from the debris which was kicked up, trying to peer at the giant thing in the distance. 

“Not all songs are sung. Some. Forgotten.” 

For a moment there is silence. The royal soldiers stand like fresh game, frozen by the sound which reminded you of all those terrible stories. Of prisoners being burned to death in the hollow of a bronze casket. Their screams reverberating; mingling into the metal. 

Terror lanced through your heart when the dust cleared, revealing a giant metal animal on four legs. The sky crackled in brilliant white. Lightning. 

“Shame. Perish they did. Quietly. In glorious battle.” 

Someone knocked into your back, and you yelled out in anger and frustration. As your swords met, lightning flashed once more, revealing the tattooed eye on her unwrinkled forehead. The woman opened her mouth and said something to you in a language you had never heard before as she parried your strikes with her longblade. The sword swung through the air, leaving trails of blue light like the tail of a falling star. “Where the fuck am I?” You swore back. 

“The King ordered them. Buried. Their treasures and children.” 

The beast roared again, lightning striking the earth a short distance away. The ground was dug up again as horses, soldiers and limbs sailed through the air. You looked on in horror before you focused on the woman in front of you again. Her mouth was covered by a dark cloth. Her frame was smaller than yours, but you could see the precision in her stance, the fearlessness in the way she struck against you. 

“The Sheikah. Proud. A stone yields not willingly.” 

The beast roared again. You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing. The air felt almost electric. There was warmth again, singing through your skin and providing you with inhuman strength as you wielded your Greatsword, cutting down the woman, then the next Sheikah beside you. 

“I can. Immortalize you. In fire. Blood.” 

The battle continued for what felt like hours. Yet you showed no signs of tiring. Your mind was slowly losing itself to the haze of this neverending skirmish. 

“Good. I understand your plaything now. Sibling.”

“Stop this at once, Din! Look at what you’ve done! Another year of this nonsense and their feeble mind will become mush!”

“Never. Relinquish them. To me.” 

Water began to fall from the sky, hitting the dry and cracking earth. It washed the blood from your skin, drenching your hair and wetting your parched lips. You had forgotten what it was like to feel thirsty. To hunger. To yearn for sleep. 

While the two voices clashed, a soft breeze was felt against your skin, like cold fingers brushing against your back. Such gentleness felt foreign, and immediately you spun around to retaliate. With eyes wide and teeth bared, you lifted your Greatsword against your assailant. 

It confused you to find that no one was there. 

The breeze swept past your cheek, making you shiver.

‘I can help you, little sprout!’

‘Simply, turn the sword against you.’

‘Quickly now! Before the other two notice.’ 

‘There we go, like pulling a splinter. One, two, three—’ 

You could feel yourself bleeding against it. Blood spurted from the wound with each squeeze of your heart. You heard your knees hit the ground as the world began to spin. A darkness was bordering your vision, creating a tunnel which gradually began to narrow. 

Looking down, you saw yourself reflected in the sword. The reflection blinked, though your own eyes remained open. Its mouth curled, whilst yours remained in a tight line. It opened its mouth, cheeks stretching and baring teeth like it had read what a smile was but had never seen a human execute it.

And in your mind, you heard them. Speaking through your own voice. 

“Let us leave this dour spot for greener pastures…”

.

.

.

X—

There is no sudden collapse of ground beneath you, no starlight which steals you away. Instead you blink, and that was that. Black void, without even a shadow. Darkness and solemn quiet. 

Exhaling, the echoing sound of your breath brought a semblance of comfort. It confirmed that this wasn’t some crushing box but at the very least a vast cavern. You held your hands out, unable to judge the distance in front of you let alone where you were. 

You stamped your feet and felt the dirt shift underneath your shoe. Curious, you thought to yourself. Bending down, you brushed what felt like the cool touch of several leaves, dew dripping from the ends of them. Tugging on a few blades easily yielded a bunch which fell from the gaps between your fingers. Grass. 

“Ack!” The bones of your spine straightened, making you stand to attention like a soldier. Your mouth opened without you meaning to, words falling from your lips. 

“Step forward. You can walk and sprint, jump even! Let all your fears melt away, little sprout.” You said, your voice sounding stiff and monotone, odd inflections being added at the end of your sentences. 

Tendons pulled like puppet strings, moving your legs forward in an unnatural gait. The darkness continued as you were forced to move deeper into this space. Several times your arms had bumped roughly into a broken column, or you had stubbed a toe against a pillar. But though it ached your body continued to move forward, refusing to acknowledge the pain. 

Then, you were deposited in front of a rock. Shaking hands were forced to feel around it, with your palm falling down the smooth downward slope of a curled wing, the other grasping on to the point of a beak. It was a statue of a bird. 

A crackling noise resounded, and the air stung as if electrified. Then, there was light. 

There was the roar of the wind, then the statue, a torch holder, erupted into flames before your eyes. A ring of similar bonfires came alive in a wide arc, eventually joining until they made a circle. 

There in the middle was a dense fog. Within it played a scene, like a twisted tableau. 

The world spun, a cyclone of memories. You were in the hammock again. The festivities of the village outside drifted like sweet music, a cold breeze rustling the tapestry coverings of the windows. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” 

Turning in the mess of patterned sheets, you buried your face further into the crook of his neck, the smell of pine and violets making you smile. “Handsome, lovely, and now beautiful? Are you still dreaming or do you really say this to every stranger you meet?”

Curling a wing around your waist, he sleepily pulled you closer. “Just stating facts. While I’m at it let’s add exasperating to that list,” he sighed. “And you’re far from a stranger now.” 

Lifting your head, you found that both his green eyes were open and looking at you. You grinned, watching his whole face soften as he smiled back. “Exasperating? That sounds more like it. I’m surprisingly good at that.” 

His eyes slipped closed as you moved to place a quick kiss on his beak, blue feathers shuddering when you sank deeper into his embrace. “Well then, you’re my moon and stars, Revali. Every constellation in the sky pales in comparison.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” your hands found his wing under the covers, fingers moving to entwine with his own, holding tight. Resting your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat under your ear, thrumming and alive. ”But if it was, I'd have already won.” 

Please, stay. 

You kept your eyes shut, trying to focus on the steady inhale and exhale of his lungs. Listening closely, it sounded more labored, as if he was choking. 

Go back to sleep. 

A sticky substance spilled down your cheek, swiping a finger, you inspected it in the lamplight to be red and thick. Blood. 

Don’t follow me, Revali. 

Any attempts to lift your head were futile, blood began to pool into your lips, tasting like copper. 

You would have been long gone by now. 

You were trapped as the warm body underneath you began to grow cold. His chest stilled, heartbeat drumming slow until to your horror, it stopped completely. 

So be it. 

The air shifted again, and you found yourself suddenly able to lift your head, a sickly ribbon of thick red following you. Lifting your hands proved to be difficult, and as you struggled to stand, you found yourself slipping in a puddle of congealed fat and bone. 

The moblin stood before you, Aryll in its grasp. Rot, decay and death; that trio of horrid stench was more familiar to you than ever, and it reeked of it. 

You’re late. 

You were held by invisible chains to the ground, covered in gore. Seeing the terror in Aryll’s eyes made you fight desperately against your restraints, even as your arm began to pull from its socket. 

Don’t go. 

“This can’t be right. It never went like this!” The words were said helplessly as Aryll called out to you, her cries unintelligible as they mixed with her gasping need to breathe. 

I won’t get hurt.  

You began to sob at the sound of her bones snapping. Her diaphragm crushed to dust like the wings of a little bird. 

Plenty to last me a lifetime. 

The cyclone receded and took the fog along with it. In its absence, the dark forest was clear to you once more. Ancient statues alight like funeral pyres, circling a dark mass at its center. 

If your body was your own, you would have jumped back in surprise. Every nerve screamed to do so as the hulking form of that thing, revealed itself in the light of the fires. 

Divine Beast. 

This was the first time you’d seen it confined to the earth. Its fuschia glowing eyes were dimmed. Yet, even though it was grounded, your heart quivered in fear at the mere sight of the leviathan. 

Then, you saw someone familiar, cowering before it. Their clothes were plain, a basic winter coat to ward away the elements, barely keeping their weak form warm. Around them, star charts littered the floor. 

The glowing eyes flashed, coming alive. 

Why are they standing still? You thought in a panic. 

The air began to sizzle in an all too familiar way. Your eyes refused to blink as the person stood there, frozen dumb. 

The puppet strings were released. 

The muscles in your shoulders suddenly dropped, and you leaned to the side as you greedily inhaled a gulp of air. “Holy hell.” You gasped, your voice your own again. Immediately you dragged your feet forward, pushing past the static numbness and using all your strength to propel you forward. 

Your boots crunched against the precious scrolls and maps, adorned lovingly with constellations and measurements that you once spent hours committing to memory.

The empty sound before the blast stole your breath as you barreled into your past self, grabbing them and rolling away just as the beam eviscerated the grass where you both once stood. 

Grabbing their shoulders, you roughly slammed them into the ground. “Are you stupid!” You yelled into their face. Your words came back to you in that same instant, repeated like a twisted echo.

Their eyes were wide as they looked up at you, the fires reflected in them. Utterly terrified, their mouth moved in a mirror to yours. 

“You just stood there! Fucking coward! It took her! He—he’s going to die.”  “You just stood there! Fucking coward! It took her! He—he’s going to die.” 

“And it’s all your goddesses-damned fault.”  “And it’s all your goddesses-damned fault.” 

You sent a fist at your own self, wanting to cave in the face that you wore in another time. It wasn’t fair, how they lived life so blissfully, how they took everything for granted, how they existed without having known anything. 

But as your knuckles connected with skin, you felt no satisfaction from the act. 

Tears began to build in your eyes as you stood up, hastily wiping them from your cheeks. The past version of you did the same to their own, their gaze still trained on you in fear as their face began to bruise. 

Stumbling away, you fell backwards into the grass. The ruins around you burned and the heat began to singe your skin as a warm breeze, like oven fire, fanned the flames. 

Your past self sat up, massaging their jaw and stared at you unblinking. Bloodshot and beady-eyed, like a doll. Their hands stiffly pulled at their burning skin in unnatural angles, almost like they wished to rip the charred layer off completely. 

Then. Without your own mouth moving, they spoke in a voice that wasn’t yours. 

“And what, little sprout, have we learnt?” 

Your mouth tasted like rust. “Just send me to hell! What are you waiting for?” 

“Always choosing the option to run, to cower and hide.” They lifted their arms as the skin there began to flake and blacken, revealing bone. “You care for no one but yourself.” 

“That’s not—I cared for them. I loved—

“You abandoned them. Need I remind you of all the times you chose death over facing the full round.” The smog made by the fires partially obscured their grinning smile. You didn’t even know your own lips could peel that far. “However, I am benevolent.” 

They reached into their coat, pulling out the blue feather which had followed you through all these lives. “I can end this for you. Grant what my sibling cannot. I’ll take it all away.” 

Your eyes never left that feather, watching as it delicately waved in the oppressive heat, embers so close to singeing it. “Give that back.” 

Gleefully, they crushed it into their hand. “Let it burn with me. And I will restore you to your time. Your star charts, your neighbors farm, your sanity. Like all this had never happened. Is that not what you want?” 

Clenching your fist, you felt the deep ache of every scar that was carved into you. Every night spent without peace, with the anxiety of living wrapped tightly around your neck like a noose. 

The sins which plagued you until you walked this world in a haze of your former self. Aryll’s pain. Revali’s death. The knowledge of these events occurring. This goddess could take that all away. 

Yet, your eyes never left that feather. It’s familiar blue stubbornly showing itself in the cracks of their melting hand. 

“You know what I want?” 

The broken mirror tilted their head, an eye sliding to the side as if no longer sitting correctly in their skull. “Hm?” 

“I want you,” shakily standing up, you made your way towards them. “And your siblings,” with arms trembling in anger, you embraced their burning form, prying the feather from their fists. “To fuck off.” 

The goddess laughed in the prison of your arms, their voice sounding the closest to a human than it ever had in this entire twisted exchange. The flames climbed on to your clothes, excruciating. But it did not matter, you have burned before. 

“Noted, little sprout.” 

.

.

.

X—

The grain of the kitchen table swirled and dipped underneath the pads of your fingers. You focused on the indentations, tracing the marks until you found the chip. Aryll had hit her head there, playing tag with her older brother. It was almost a perfect copy. 

“Take a seat,” a woman said, her golden hair in a braided bun. “Tea will be ready soon.” She wore Medilia’s armor, the crest of the Royal Guard displayed proudly on her back. 

“And which one are you?” Sliding the chair out, you roughly deposited yourself on your side of the table. You noticed it was the place where you always sat whenever you were invited to dinner. “Is this house going to catch fire too? Because you might want to spare me the pyrotechnics. I’ve already seen that happen.” 

The woman shook her head ruefully, her face still obscured as she set down two cups of tea. It was Medilia’s favorite set too, the one her husband had gifted her after their quiet son was recruited to serve the King. 

You took a sip. “Who are you?” 

“A bystander to history,” she said, folding her delicate hands. The accent was regal, not unlike a voice you remembered from other lives ago, panicking over your broken form in the grass. “But that is irrelevant. I am here to grant you guidance”. 

“I’ve had enough of higher powers telling me what to do.” 

The woman’s shoulders shook in quiet laughter. “Apologies.” She said, “you just reminded me of someone.” It was then that she lifted her head, revealing a plain face. Pretty, but fairly unremarkable. “I want to help you.” 

Your hands tightened around the cup, close enough to shatter it if you weren’t careful. “Then tell me how I can save them.”

“The world will end, that is already known. But take comfort in the knowledge that it will be reborn in a hundred years.” 

“Lady, it has been a long day. Day? Year. Hylia’s third toe, I don’t know anymore.” The woman’s head tilted in amusement as you swore. “If you’re going to tell me to give up, then I’m going to stop listening right about now.” 

“You still think you can save him.” 

“I will.” Slamming your hand made the old table shudder, the cups rattling on their saucers. “I swear it. I swear myself to it. Now are we done here?” 

“Mortals always fail to focus on the bigger tapestry.” She sighed, her golden hair shimmering in the afternoon light. Past the windows behind her, the fields leading to Castle Town waved, green and healthy in the late summer sun. “Much sorrow and pain will come to pass, but is it not enough that all this sacrifice will be paid back more than a hundred times in the future?"  

“Excuse my mortal sentiments, but I don’t hold individual souls in such little regard.” 

She raised a brow. “And what of your own?” 

You frowned. "Touché. But I’m…working on it.” 

Taking a sip of her tea, she smiled as if in memory. “I haven’t had an informal conversation like this in a while. I must say, it’s quite refreshing.” 

You shook your head. “That’s great and all, but can we please get back to the point. Return me to the start. I have a lot of explaining to do for someone.” Draining your cup, you saw the Silent Princess at the bottom, its blue core and white lined petals in full bloom. “I can’t do this alone anymore.” 

The woman beamed, and her serene smile reminded you of the statues hidden in quiet alcoves, decorated in offerings and warmed by lit incense. 

Before you could connect the dots, she stood from the table, taking the pot from the stove and refilled your cup. “That’s wonderful to hear.” She said in relief, sounding like a mother proud that her child had added one and one to get two. “Such revelations should be rewarded.” 

“What.”

“Drink that please. Waste not a single drop.” At the sudden intensity in her order, you did as you were told. 

You set the empty cup on the table. Looking at your hands, you flexed them to see that nothing happened.  

“Okay, let’s cut the crap Hylia. What is my purpose in all thi—

.

.

.

X—

Starlight stole you away. 

#revali x reader #revali #revali botw #breath of the wild #botw #loz botw

[tanjiromenon]

hopelessly devoted.

(sora x reader)

warnings: panic attacks, sora being the sweetest dork in all the world, NOT proofread!!

“how lucky am i..?” sora murmured, a hand tracing down your cheek with utmost care and gentleness. he revelled in the glow the moonlight gave you as it touched your skin, almost as if it were flowing over you like a silk blanket, as odd as it sounded. the calmness of the moment was interrupted by your light snoring coming to a stop, and the sound of a tired hum escaping you.

stirring ever so slightly, the keyblade wielder felt your breathing quicken ever so slightly, until you opened your eyes - most gracefully, might he add. with a yawn and a small stretch, your eyes landed on sora, who was still peering down at you, with a soft smile on his face. “enjoy your nap, sleepy head?” he mused with a tilt of his head.

feeling the weight of your head leaving his lap, sora watched as you sat upright, yawning again before facing him. “yeah, it was peaceful.”

“well, i’m glad! i’ll be your pillow any day, if you need it!” sora grinned from ear to ear, holding his thumb up as you giggled softly, letting out the most beautiful of sounds.

god, he was totally and utterly smitten with you and everything you do.

“thanks, sora!”

looking over up to the sky, your eyes landed on the all too familiar sunset that graced the town , yet the small smile that decorated your face dropped upon realising that you had been in a state of slumber, and turned back to sora, bewildered. “how-“ groaning and dragging a hand over your face, you sighed. “..how long have i been asleep?”

..

fearing the worst, your mind raced as you thought about what punishment you’d get from xemnas now that you’ve slacked off from the job. what do you do now? how bad will the punishment be? is sora going to get hurt? oh god... why didn’t he wake you up? why did he let you slee-

your partner shrunk ever so slightly under your questioning glare, and a hand rose to his neck as he rubbed it; letting out a laugh to help ease the tension between you both. “i just- didn’t want to wake you; you looked so peaceful!”

no response.

“4 or 5 hours, give or take?” his awkward grin did little to calm your rising panic, however, and he rushed to grab your shoulders, rubbing down to your arms while tilting his head in front of yours, keeping eye contact with a concerned expression. “hey! hey, tell me what’s on your mind, love.”

the growing fear continued to rise as you tried to spit out what you wanted to say, though it only came out as a mixture of panicked sounds.

sora frowned, raising his hand up to your chin; and feeling you flinch under the touch of his thumb and his index finger. turning your head to face his again, his frown continued to grow as he saw the way your eyes were squeezed shut. “open your eyes, y/n, it’s okay. no one’s gonna hurt you.” and with that, you pried your eyes open to look at sora.

his smile brought you back to a sense of calmness. “there we go.” he chuckled as he caressed your face with his hand, wiping a tear that you didn’t know escaped your eyes.

“you’re safe when i’m here, y/n.”

admittedly, the comment from sora brought up a spike of shame from within you. you hated being treated like a damsel in distress. you really did. “thank you, sora.”

you heard another small chuckle escape him. “i’m here for you, you know? any day you need me, i’ll be here.”

“i keep forgetting i’m not a part of the organisation anymore, i just get worried sometimes, that’s all..” sora hummed in understanding, smiling at you softly before placing his forehead against yours; closing his eyes as he stroked your face on either side with his hands, as he hummed to you a tune reserved only for you; one that always brought you comfort.

feeling the movement of your face accommodate the shyest of smiles, sora pulled back to look at you.

oh, he would do anything for you if it meant he got to see you smile.

“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever laid my eyes on, y/n..” his eyes searched yours, almost as if he was gazing into your soul.

wiping the snot from your nose and sniffing, you began to laugh. “snot and all?”

sora grinned as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. a silent promise to himself to stay hopelessly devoted to you for the rest of his life.

“snot and all.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #video games #x reader #kingdom hearts #sora #sora x reader #sora kingdom hearts #final fantasy series #kh sora #kh riku #riku kingdom hearts #kairi kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts imagines #re:chain of memories #dream drop distance #melody of memory #kingdom hearts sora #kingdom hearts x reader #kingdom hearts sora x reader #sora imagines #kingdom hearts fanfiction