chaeskaya

Latest Posts by chaeskaya

Thank you Peter Pan.

Love them sm 💔

Thanks you, @walkbynight, for awesome pictures!

TINKBERBELL and FELIX

Felix : “ I know you took it.”

Tinkerbell : “ She has to die”

Felix : “ Why ? because Peter loves her ? Do you really think it will change his feelings if you kill her ?”

Tinkerbell : “ Peter is mine ! Everything was perfect before that "bird” came here.  “

Felix : ” Give it back Tink. You don’t want to kill anyone .“

Tinkerll : ” Are you sure about that ? really ? I could easily rip your throat out .. right here right now".

Felix : “ You can but I know you…You’re not a monster. Take a look at Wendy’s heart, see it’s glowing. There is no darkness. She’s a good person”.

Tinkerbell : “ So you’re in love with her …”

Felix : “ I’m in love yeah… but with someone else. ”

Tinkerbell : “ Are…you saying… ”

Felix : “ I’m just saying that.. if you really need a heart, you can take mine”.

PHOTOS OF THE IDIOT PLAY OF MOSSOVET THEATRE ARE EVERYTHING!!!

Photo 1- Gavrila, 2- General Epanchin, 3- Aglaya and Myshkin, 4- Rogozhin, 5- Rogozhin and Myshkin, 6- Nastasya Filippovna

There are so many more photos (about 52 to be exact) but l couldn't put them all so l just put the ones with the characters (and favs)

“i was quiet, but not blind” - Jane Austen

Low key want Aegon and larys and Helaena and Alicent to all run away to Essos purely so this can happen

[every action has consequences]

🔪 inspired by this tweet:

"helaena? she does not ride, she has no taste for it."

rhaegon ch2

was inspired by this fic where Aegon writes to Rhaenyra. very cute.

Dear Sister,

The Maester says I have to practice writing my letters but I have no one to write them to. So I am writing to you. I doubt you’ll ever read this so I guess this doesn’t matter. I doubt you even remember me.  Mother scolds me for not taking my lessons seriously but they are dreadfully boring. She says I am stupid and is embarrassed I am slow and that I should be grateful to have good teachers.  

Anyway, what are you like? What is your favorite color? Mine is gold but Grandsire says that’s not really a color. But yellow is gross and looks like piss. Where are you now?

Love,

Your brother Aegon

-

Dear Brother,

No, I have not forgotten you. You are not stupid and your mother probably means well. Keep at your studies. Or maybe not, it doesn’t matter for you anyway.

I do not know how to describe what I’m like, maybe it would be more helpful to ask those who knew me. I do not have a favorite color. I am in the Vale visiting my mother’s family.

Rhaenyra

–

Dear Sister,

I was very excited to see your letter. I did not expect you to reply. What did you mean by it doesn’t matter for me? I think I will try harder so I can get better at writing to you.

What is the Vale like?

 Mother’s face turned sour as a lemon when I asked her about you. But Father talked to me for the first time, properly. He said you were stubborn when you were younger. And that you first flew Syrax just a few years older than me. When do you think I’ll get to fly my own dragon? He even showed me a painting of you. You were in all red, is that your favorite color?

You are very pretty. We should get married like all the other brother-sister Targaryens in the history books.

Love,

Your brother, Aegon

–

Rhaenyra had to laugh. Her life was a joke. But in a way, so was Alicent’s. Fate was intent on making them family in more ways than one, it seemed. The absurdity of the letters cut through whatever grief she was feeling in the halls of the Eyrie. 

For the first time in years she had the space and time to think about her mother again. But Aegon’s letters renewed the pain she felt when she discovered her father had gone to Alicent of all people in the after. She gritted her teeth, she had spent more time thinking of Alicent than anything.

She pocketed the letter into her sleeves and turned her attention back to her mother’s old diaries. Her eyes glazed over the words. Her mother was very young when she wrote them and she couldn’t help but compare her scrawl to Aegon’s. The boy was not stupid, he wrote well for his age, she realized, now that she had something to compare it to.

The last time she saw Aegon he was but a babe and she was half intent on killing him. But now the babe had grown into a boy with thoughts and feelings. Uncomfortable.  

The Arryns put her in her mother’s old rooms. Seeing the familiar patterns of the fabrics and tapestries made her feel like she was a young girl again, playing in her mother’s closet. She imagined if Aegon was doing the same. Inconvenient .

She wasn’t acquainted with her mother’s side when she was younger, not because she thought them strange or boring, but because by then Daemon had already enchanted her with tales of dragons and Old Valyria. Has he been working on his High Valyrian? If he cares about dragons this much he should. 

-

half-siblings? more like twins.

Why Do Things Always Have To Go And Change?

summary ♡ Aegon returns to King's Landing—a shell of the man he once was, scarred, burnt and broken. He doesn't want to see anyone, he says. And yet, when the maesters come to change his bandages, Helaena is always at his bedside; quietly embroidering.

pairing ♡ Aegon II Targaryen x Helaena Targaryen

tags ♡ pov helaena, hurt/comfort, doomed couple, fluff, show canon

wordcount ♡ 4.1k

song rec ♡ Abbey – Mitski

read it on ao3 (kudos and comments on there are always appreciated ♡)

taglist ♡ @joekeerys @brevlada24 @serymn31 @themoonofthesun

She looked at him—really looked at him.

Her eyes wandered over his features; from the soft curve of his lips and he sharp line of his jaw, to the way the sunlight that spilled through the curtains played upon his silver hair, turning it into a shimmering crown.

But the light could not soften the harsh reality of his injuries. His face was now a patchwork of scars and burns, the skin taut and angry. The bandages covered half of it, hiding the worst of the damage, but she had seen enough to know the pain he must be enduring.

Helaena’s hands moved deftly, the needle gliding easily through the fabric in her hands as she embroidered at his bedside. It was a way to keep her mind occupied; she was working on a piece that was supposed to show Sunfyre.

They hadn’t been this close since Jaehaerys died—she had sought his presence a few times, of course, but he had seemed to… avoid her. Helaena wasn’t sure why; maybe he needed more time, or her face reminded him of their son, or he simply didn’t think she was important enough to spend time with. It didn’t really matter now. He couldn’t stop her from sitting here anymore.

Jaehaerys. That had been the beginning of the end for them. Their son, their precious little son—the bright spark that had been snuffed out too soon. Aegon had been so broken after his death, consumed by rage that had driven him to the battlefield. He had felt powerless, unable to protect their family, and in his desperation, he had sought solace in the only way he knew.

But what had it gained him? Now he lay before her, broken and scarred, a shadow of the man he once was. Soon, everything would be even worse. Helaena could feel it, the shifting of the world around them. The mere thought of what was to come threatened to split her head open, cold and unyielding.

The future sprawled out before her like an intricate tapestry, each thread representing a moment, a choice, a consequence. She could see the patterns forming, the inevitability of it all, and it filled her with a profound sense of helplessness. Everything she knew, everything she loved, was unravelling before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

She was just a spectator, a silent witness.

Her needle paused, the thread caught on a knot. She looked down at her work, the brilliant golden dragon she had been stitching blurred by the tears that welled up in her eyes. She blinked them away, forcing herself to continue, to focus on the task at hand. There was no use in dwelling on what was to come. She could only live in the present, hold onto the moments she had left.

Aegon stirred in his sleep, a low groan escaping his lips. Helaena reached out, her fingers brushing against his uninjured cheek. She felt him lean into her touch, as if seeking the warmth of her body.

Their marriage had never been one of passion or choice. Both too young, too uncertain to be good to each other; thrust into a union neither had wanted. Over time, they had found some semblance of companionship, a way to coexist. He was the father of her children, and he was her brother, of course she loved him. Their bond was twisted and complicated, but it was theirs.

They had shared many good memories, especially ones with their twins—their little flames, as Aegon always called them.

Now, only poor little Jaehaera remained. Helaena had to hold back a sob as the image of her girl’s future death flashed in her mind. That specific death always made her feel sick beyond measure.

Suddenly, Aegon’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused and filled with confusion and pain. They had given him Milk of the Poppy last night to make sleep possible; the effects had probably worn off now.

“Helaena?” His voice was raspy and weak, as if he hadn’t used it in years. “Where... where is Sunfyre?”

“Shh, Aegon. Rest now.” She was unsure what to do, was she supposed to call for a maester?

“Sunfyre,” he repeated, trying to sit up but wincing in pain. “Where is he?”

Oh, golden, beautiful, magnificent Sunfyre. She couldn’t tell him about his dragon’s state right now. Everybody knew how much Aegon loved him; the truth would break his heart.

“Sunfyre is fine,” she lied gently, knowing it was what he needed to hear. “You’re hurt. Let me call for a mae—”

“No!” he gasped, grabbing her wrist with surprising strength. “No maester.”

She nodded, feeling the tension in his grip; it would certainly leave a bruise. “Yes. Alright, Aegon. No maester.”

He let go of her wrist, his visible eye darting around the room. He looked much younger, somehow. So lost and broken; she had only seen him like that twice before. When Jaehaerys died, the other time on their wedding day.

“Stay.” His voice startled her out of her thoughts. His eye was focused on her now; his voice trembling, almost pleading. “Can you stay?”

“Of course,” she said, managing a small smile. “I’ll stay.”

She continued her embroidery, her hands moving in a familiar, soothing rhythm. The room was filled with the sound of Aegon’s labored breathing and his occasional groan of agony. His face contorted in pain, and she could see the strain in every muscle of his body.

“Aegon,” she said softly, “I can call for the maester. You could take more Milk of the Poppy, for the pain.”

He shook his head, his lips quivering. “No. I don’t want it. The dreams… the dreams are horrible.”

She nodded, understanding. She had heard of the poppy-induced dreams, the nightmares that haunted the wounded and the dying. “I understand,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’ll distract you.”

She held up her embroidery, showing him the golden dragon she had been stitching. “Look, Aegon. It’s Sunfyre. I’m working on his wings now.”

He stared at the embroidery, she wasn’t sure if he even recognized what exactly she was doing; his eyes still seemed distant. “Tell me about the fight,” he murmured. “I remember… falling.”

They had told her about what happened over Rook’s Rest, or at least a version of what happened. She didn’t really trust anybody’s word anymore—Aemond had started to act especially strange after returning. She took a deep breath, she didn’t want to make him relive the battle, but she couldn’t deny him either.

“You fought bravely,” she began, her voice steady. “You led the charge... Meleys was strong, but you persevered. You flew high on Sunfyre, and the sight of you filled our men with hope.”

Aegon’s eyes flickered with a distant light. “And then…?”

“You… you fell,” she said, not daring to meet his gaze. “Sunfyre was wounded, and you both fell.”

“Where is Sunfyre?” Aegon’s voice grew agitated again, his brow furrowing. “Helaena, where is he?”

Helaena hesitated, weighing her options. He would find out eventually, and the way he pleaded with her broke her heart. “Sunfyre was too hurt to fly back to King’s Landing. He’s still at Rook’s Rest.”

Aegon screamed suddenly, the sound raw and filled with terror. He grabbed her arm, his grip like iron. “We need to save Sunfyre! He’s alone! He’s—”

“Aegon, you’re hurting me!” she yelped, her voice tinged with pain and fear.

He loosened his grip, his face contorted in anguish and regret. “We need to save him,” he repeated, his voice breaking as he started to sob.

“Sunfyre is being guarded and fed.” She put a soft, reassuring hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. “He will heal. Please, Aegon, you need to calm down. You’re too weak to do anything right now.”

“You don’t understand, Helaena.” Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears as he stared at her, his eyes wild with desperation. “It’s all my fault. He didn’t want to go, he told me— he was afraid, and I talked him into it. It’s my fault.”

She was powerless, yet again just a spectator; silently watching her brother break down completely. His sobs grew louder, more hysterical, and she noticed with growing alarm that the bandages on his face and body were starting to stain red. His wounds were reopening from the strain of his outburst.

“Aegon, please, you’re hurting yourself,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice calm, though her own fear was threatening to overwhelm her. Without thinking, she climbed onto the bed beside him, trying to soothe him, taking him into her arms.

To her surprise, he pressed his face into her chest, his cries turning into screams. “Make it stop. Please, make it stop,” he wailed, his body shaking with sobs.

She patted his back, unsure what else to do with her hands. “Shh, Aegon, it’s alright. I’m here. I’m here.” Her heart felt like it was being torn apart as she held him, feeling his pain as if it were her own. She kissed the top of his head, gently pushing him back against the mattress. “I’ll get a maester,” she said softly. “You need help. Please, let me help you.”

Aegon nodded weakly, his strength spent, his spirit broken. “Alright,” he whispered. “Alright.”

She rose from the bed and quickly called for the maester before returning to Aegon’s bedside, clasping his hand tightly. Every moment stretched out painfully as she watched Aegon’s blood seep through the bandages and into the linens. Finally, the heavy doors opened and the maester arrived.

“He needs more Milk of the Poppy,” Helaena informed the old man, putting everything she had into sounding as determined as possible. “A change of bandages too.”

The maester nodded and set to work, carefully removing the stained bandages from Aegon’s body; the king screamed, and Helaena had to look away. Aegon’s wounds were cleaned and wrapped in fresh bandages. He then held a cup of Poppy to Aegon’s lips; Aegon groaned, his body tense with pain, but he drank the bitter liquid without much protest.

Helaena watched, her heart in her throat, as the potion began to take hold of him. Aegon’s breathing slowed, his body relaxing as the Milk of the Poppy worked its way through his system. His eyes grew heavy, and soon he drifted into sleep.

Helaena sat down by his bedside again, her embroidery in her lap. She continued working on Sunfyre. The sun started to set slowly, casting long shadow across the chamber, but she remained. She couldn’t leave him alone, not now.

As darkness fell, Helaena lit a candle on the bedside table, its flickering flame casting a warm glow over the room. She had finished her first piece of embroidery and was now working on a new one—Aegon with his crown. Each stitch felt like an act of devotion, a way to hold on to the man he had been and the king he was never supposed to be.

The doors to the chamber opened quietly, and her mother walked in, her face lined with worry; as it always was nowadays. She moved towards Helaena, her footsteps soft on the stone floor. “Helaena,” she said gently, placing a tentative hand on her arm. “You need to rest. Let me stay with him. You need to sleep and eat.”

Helaena shook off her mother’s hand, her touch feeling abrasive against her skin; like a burn. The sight of her filled Helaena with too many emotions—resentment, fear, anger. She had seen her mother’s death too. It made it hard to look at her the same way.

“No, Mother.” Her voice felt alien to her own ears; it had a coldness to it that surprised her. “Give me this. You will be the last one remaining. Just give me this.”

Alicent’s face crumpled in confusion and hurt. “Helaena, what are you talking about? You’re exhausted. Please, let me help.”

“You don’t understand.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled to keep them at bay. “I will stay.”

Ignoring her mother’s pleading, Helaena turned back to her work, her tears falling onto the fabric. Each drop darkened the threads, the same threads that made up her life. She stitched with renewed energy, trying to lose herself in the task.

After just standing there for a while, her mother seemed to finally accept her defeat; with a deep sigh, she turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.

Helaena sobbed quietly, her body shaking. The candle’s flame flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls, but she didn’t notice. Her world had narrowed to the piece of fabric in her hands and the figure she was creating on it. Each thread was a prayer, a hope, a plea for a future that seemed to be lost. Eventually her eyelids grew heavy and she fell into a dreamless sleep, the embroidery still resting on her lap.

Weeks passed, and Aegon's condition did not improve much. His wounds were healing slowly, and the pain remained, etched deeply into his very being. He relied on Milk of the Poppy to sleep, but begged the maesters for moments of lucidity during the day. In those moments he was himself, even if the pain was overwhelming. And every day, she was there, embroidering, talking to him, learning more about the man who was her husband.

One day, as the soft light of the afternoon filtered into the room, Aegon stirred and looked at Helaena with a glimmer in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Helaena, I want to see Jaehaera. Can you bring her to me?”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile; she had tried to shield their daughter from the sight of her father’s suffering, but she knew how much it would mean to Aegon. She nodded, “of course. I’ll bring her to you.”

She rose from her chair and left the room, her steps light as she made her way to Jaehaera’s chambers. The little girl was playing with her dolls, her silver hair falling in soft waves around her face. Her daughter had always been very quiet, often lost in her own world—she had grown even quieter since Jaehaerys.

Helaena knelt beside her, smoothing a stray lock of hair from the girl’s forehead. “Jaehaera,” she said softly, “would you like to see your father?”

To Helaena’s surprise, the girl’s eyes lit up, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes, I miss him.”

Helaena picked her daughter up, carrying her back to Aegon’s chambers. As they entered, Aegon’s eyes widened with joy at the sight of his little girl. “Jaehaera,” he called out, his voice choked with emotion.

“Papa!” Helaena released Jaehaera from her arms, the little girl immediately running up to the bed, her small hands reaching for Aegon. “I’ve missed you.”

Aegon’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at his daughter. He lifted a trembling hand to brush her cheek. Helaena could tell that the gesture hurt by the way his mouth twitched, he was good at hiding it now. “I’ve missed you too, my little flame.”

Jaehaera climbed onto the bed, snuggling close to Aegon. “Grandmother has been teaching me to embroider,” she said proudly, showing him a small piece of fabric she had been working on. It was clumsy and uneven, but the effort was evident.

Aegon smiled, a real, genuine smile she hadn’t seen in so long. “It’s beautiful, Jaehaera. You’re quite talented.”

Jaehaera beamed, her eyes shining with pride. “Thank you, Papa! I’ll make one for you too, with Sunfyre on it.”

Helaena’s eyes filled with tears as she watched them; the bittersweetness of the moment was almost too much to bear. She blinked them away, not wanting to dampen the joy of the reunion. She knew that their days were counted, all their days were, but this was a little ray of sunlight, a memory she could cherish until her end.

Aegon pulled Jaehaera closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, my little flame,” he whispered. “Never forget that.”

Jaehaera smiled, a smile Helaena would never tire of. Her poor girl. “I love you too,” Jaehaera said, planting a kiss on his uninjured cheek.

Weeks turned into months, and Aegon’s condition was finally improving. He was well enough to sit by the open window now, looking out into the gardens. Helaena was there with him, as she always was, her embroidery in her lap. She was working on a challenging piece this time: Dreamfyre and Sunfyre, dancing together in a swirling sky of vibrant threads. The soft breeze brought the scent of blooming flowers into the room, overshadowing the ever-present scent of poppy and herbs.

Aegon still relied on the Milk of the Poppy, but the pain was more manageable for him now. He could talk and even smile without wincing, and they spent many hours in conversation, sharing thoughts and memories they had never dared to before.

“Aegon, do you remember when we used to play seek in the gardens?” Helaena asked softly, her needle moving through the fabric. “You always had a knack for finding the best hiding spots.”

Aegon turned his gaze from the garden to her, he was smiling; a genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I always found you, even when you didn't want to be found.”

She chuckled, a sound that warmed her own heart. “I suppose you did.”

They fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sounds the rustle of the wind in the trees and the soft click of Helaena’s needle. Her eyes were firmly set on her work, but she could feel Aegon watching her, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her frame.

“Helaena.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” he said simply. “For staying here with me. I think I would’ve lost my mind without you around.”

“Oh, Aegon. You don't need to thank me.” It was the truth; he didn’t need to thank her. He had saved her from insanity just the same.

His eyes softened further, and he reached out, his hand trembling slightly. She took it, threading her fingers through his. They sat like that for a moment—she didn’t stand people touching her most of the time, somehow Aegon’s touch never bothered her.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, he leaned closer. Helaena's breath caught in her throat as she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. She closed her eyes, and then his lips were on hers.

The kiss was soft, tentative, as if they were both afraid of shattering this fragile moment. Helaena’s free hand moved to his unscarred cheek, cupping it as she deepened the kiss. Aegon’s hand tightened around hers, feeling the strength of his emotions, the words that would always remain unspoken between them.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Helaena’s eyes were filled with tears, but they were tears of something akin to joy. She kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then his nose.

They sat there, holding each other, the world outside forgotten. In that moment, it was just the two of them, bound by the same love and the same pain, by shared memories and unspoken promises. The future was bleak, but what must happen has not yet happened. And that was enough.

“Helaena?” Aegon whispered after a while. “Can I ask you for one last favor?”

“Yes. Always.”

Aegon took a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself to say what was on his mind. “Can you take me to Sunfyre?” His voice was steady; yet filled with an underlying urgency.

Helaena blinked, surprised. She had not expected this request. “Aegon, are you sure? You’re still recovering… are you strong enough to do this?”

“I need to be,” he replied, his eyes earnest. “I need to see him, Helaena. I owe him that much. I… I can’t bear the thought of him suffering alone any longer.”

Helaena searched his face, seeing the determination in it. She understood his need, the bond between dragon and rider was sacred and profound. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll go to Rook’s Rest. I’ll take you on Dreamfyre myself.”

They spent the next few days preparing for the journey; the maesters tried to dissuade them, but Helaena’s resolve was unshakable. She oversaw every detail, ensuring that Aegon was as comfortable as possible for the trip. Dreamfyre was readied in the Dragonpit, her saddle being adjusted slightly to ensure Aegon could mount her safely.

Aegon, though still weak, seemed to gain a strength from the thought of being able to reunite with his beloved Sunfyre. His laugh was louder, his smile brighter, his eyes seemed more alive.

The morning of their departure came, and Helaena helped Aegon dress, his movements still slow and tentative; but his determination was stronger than the pain. They made their way to the courtyard, where a carriage to the Dragonpit waited for them, Aegon leaning on Helaena for support the entire way.

Dreamfyre awaited them on the square in front of the looming dome of the Pit, her blue scales shimmering in the early light. The dragon’s eyes met Helaena’s, a silent understanding passing between the two. Dreamfyre seemed to sense the importance of this journey and was calm as they approached.

Aegon’s breath quickened as they neared the dragon, his arm slung over Helaena’s shoulders. “She’s still as beautiful as ever,” he murmured, reaching out a trembling hand to touch Dreamfyre’s flank.

Helaena smiled, gesturing to two nearby dragonkeepers to help Aegon into the saddle. Dreamfyre was being very helpful; crouching down close to the ground and positioning her wing in a way that allowed Aegon to limp into the saddle easily.

Helaena climbed up behind him, wrapping her arms securely around his waist. “Hold on,” she whispered, and with a soft command, Dreamfyre took to the skies.

The journey to was swift, the familiar landscapes of the Crownlands passing beneath them in a blur. If Aegon was in any pain; he was good at hiding it. All Helaena sensed from him was pure determination. They arrived at Rook’s Rest just before noon, Dreamfyre’s form casting a shadow over the remains of the battlefield and the ruined fortress. Dreamfyre landed gracefully near the trees, stretching her wings like she had at the Dragonpit, helping Aegon dismount as painlessly as possible.

Helaena helped Aegon down, his legs shaky but determined. They walked into the forest; everything there seemed oppressively still, as if all life had fled its confines. Eventually, they found him, Sunfyre—nestled in a makeshift pen.

The dragon lay weakened, his golden scales dulled with dust and dried blood, his wings tattered. His body bore the marks of his brave struggle, but his eyes brightened as he saw his rider.

“Sunfyre,” Aegon whispered, his voice breaking. He moved forward, his steps unsteady, driven by sheer will. Helaena stayed close, ready to catch him if he faltered. Once he was close enough to touch Sunfyre, he collapsed to his knees; hand reaching out to pat the dragon’s snout. “I’m here.”

Sunfyre responded with a gentle nuzzle, his large eyes closing briefly in what seemed like relief. Helaena watched, not able to stop the tears that now streamed down her face as the two reunited. There wasn’t much left of Sunfyre, there wasn’t much left of Aegon, either; there was some beauty in that realization.

Helaena joined Aegon on the ground near Sunfyre, her heart tightening in her chest. She knew this moment was fleeting, a snapshot of calm before the storm. Soon they will be different. Soon everything will be different. She grabbed his free hand, as if that could change anything.

Aegon turned to her, his lilac eyes searching hers. “What troubles you, Helaena?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, the words refusing to come. How could she tell him that their fragmented world would soon crumble into even smaller pieces? That this moment would soon become a distant memory? She couldn’t. Instead, she squeezed his hand and offered a faint smile. “Just thinking.”

He chuckled, a sound so carefree, so free of pain. Soon she would never hear it again. “You worry too much.”

Helaena closed her eyes, trying to memorize the feel of his hand in hers, the warmth of his body against hers. Soon, all of this would be gone, swept away by the cruel hands of fate. But for this brief, precious time, she allowed herself to hope, to dream that perhaps, just perhaps, they could defy destiny.

“Maybe I do.”

my favorite 🕊️

Kiss 

parallels

love this work sm! 💫

I’ll try Phasma and Hux in Elsa and Hans outfits another time,for now this😊 @icestorming is a goddess!!

Just look at them🥺

Loki and Sylvie / Ben and Rey

parallels

My God, I actually like it and I'm waiting for the continuation :D

Author, you are very talented!

Force-twins AU  

part 30 (part 1 | 2 | 3 |  3.5 | 4 | 5 | 5.5 | 6 | 7 | 7.5 | 8 | 8.5 | 8.5 b | 9 | 10 | 11 | 11.5 | 12 | 13 | 13.5 | 14 | 15 |  15.b | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | b1 | 23.5 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29)