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zellk · 27 days

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I'm in love with Aamira ❤️❤️🙏 can you give us more info about her? Some fun and maybe not so fun facts about her?

Hi Anon ! Thank you for your kind words and for your interest \o/ Aamira's side of the family is the one that Qalaa got her "Beast Curse" from. It's a bloodline hereditary curse that boosts the strength of those in good health (like Qalaari) and eats away at those that have a weak constitution... like Aamira. "Weak" members of the family are usually cast aside or cast out. Aamira ; while still quite young, 16 or so ; ran away from all of this to try to live her life following only her will and enjoy as much of it as possible. Even without the curse Aamira would have had a weak health, but think of it as her Beast basically making her immunodeficient and weaker and weaker as the years go by.

She managed to make a little life for herself in a small unremarkable place close to one of the older forest of the region. There she developed close ties with two siblings, Temhos & Olgha. Both of them members of a tribe that lives deep deep withing the old woods who come to visit the village semi frequently to trade goods and buy things to carry back where they live. Both siblings tried to court Aamira (after months of good relationship), and, eventually, Aamira chose Temhos. For two or three years things were pretty idyllic fro all of them. But then Aamira started talking about wanting a child... Temhos tried to reason with her that with her health it was really fucking dangerous for her to try and that her chances of not making it through were too high for his tastes... Aamira pretended to listen but actually didn't and things got really bad when Temhos found out she was pregnant. They argued, Aamira's health took a downside, Temhos took care of her until she got better again (and Aamira, with her rose-tinted delusional glasses, thought it meant he'd stay). When Aamira was around 7 month pregnant Temhos ran away (very very far away). It broke her heart but not her (by now frantic) determination to see her pregnancy though. She (somehow) found her away again to Temhos' village where she was taken in by Olgha (who was very confused, then very angry (at both Aamira & Temhos), then very panicked). Qalaari was born in this village. Olgha became her surrogate parent to help Aamira raise her (she was still in love with Aamira, but knew that her heart, broken as it was, would still never be hers... I think Aamira knew Olgha's feelings too and could only just be very thankful she still helped her raise Qalaari, despite how painful it must have been for her.) Aamira was very loving with her daughter, but her (now very bad) health and broken heart left her with long dissociative episodes, on top of moments where she wouldn't even managed to get out of bed. That's when Olgha would take care of Qalaari most (frustrated and heartbroken as she was over the whole situation, Olgha genuinely loves Qalaari like her own daughter.) 12 years after, the Beast finally eroded all of what Aamira was (she was still young... probably around 32 or 34 years old ??) and she passed away. Also, how Aamira survived giving birth is nothing short of a miracle. Most likely due to her will of titanium to meet and raise her daughter... Eventually the Beast got the best of her, but she managed to hold on for 12 more years !!

#and now Qalaari has trauma #and also an Inner Beast that makes her REALLY FUCKING VOLATILE #think hypersensitivity #except you are and get strong enough to destroy houses and whole villages when you are submerged by your emotions #Olgha has lost an eye during Qalaari's second worst “crisis”#which is the crisis that triggered her (temporary) banishment from her village #she is travelling now since she isn't able to come back for 3 years...#Olgha was banished too when she was younger so like it's “not the biggest deal” in the sense that you WILL be reintegrated when u come back #but it's still a big deal lmao #especially to Qalaa who can't really... control... her beast...#in the DnD AU apparently the Molandine familly (Aamira's side) has ways of 'taming' the Inner Beasts #but i don't have a lot more info bc i didnt get to delve too deep into what my GM has planned yet #but i'm eyes emoji #anyways that was Aamira's whole life without TOO much of the little details of the messes of her various situations fkjshdgkjh #but as you can see it's a mess #Temhos is probably the only person in the world that Qalaari wants to and would absolutely kill on sight #like she is so fucking kind and forgiving and patient #because all of her hatred is concentrated and pointed at This One Person kfmsdjhgj #also because Olgha and Aamira taught her so so much about Love and the strength of it #and about how she should use her own strength and unnaturally powerful body to do Good #aamira #aamira croquelune #aamira molandine #qalaari croquelune #qalaari #olgha #olgha croquelune #temhos #temhos croquelune #beary talk

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boobo13cambridge · 1 year

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Cliché? Most definitely. | Kylian Mbappé

Chapitre Un. Rien autour n'a de sens

February 1, 2023

Aamira Majid

“This is the final boarding call for Aamira Majid booked on flight AF323 to Paris. Please proceed to gate 4 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes' time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Aamira Majid. Thank you.”

Shit. She was going to miss her flight. Aamira knew she shouldn't have packed her bags the night before she had to leave for Paris. Unfortunately for her, she didn't really have a choice as a high-profile case had been assigned to her team a few weeks prior causing numerous sleepless nights and coffee runs. To add insult to injury, the trial was held two days before her departure to Paris.

If her mother and father were here, she wouldn't have been in such a predicament. Sorrow pierced her heart as she thought about her deceased parents. The young woman swallowed the lump forming in her throat as her eyes moistened. It had been two years since her parents passed away in a car crash but the pain of their loss was still fresh. Aamira wished she had a time-turner so she could apologize one last time, hug them tight one last time, and kiss them tenderly one last time. A single tear slid down her cheek as she ran to gate 4.

Aamira saw the lady at the counter looking impatiently around for her. The gate was empty as everyone had already boarded the flight.

“I’m here! Don’t close the gate, please!”, Aamira wheezed as she reached the counter. The woman was dressed in the classic Air France uniform with a black blazer emblazoned with the logo and matching trousers. She had a badge around her neck with her name written on it, Aurélie Picard.

“You are very late, mademoiselle. We were just about to close the gate,” said Aurélie sternly. “Your boarding pass and passport, s’il-vous-plaît.”

Handing the disgruntled agent her ticket and passport, Aamira profusely apologized while trying to catch her breath. She could feel the frustration and exhaustion of the past week slowly creeping up on her as she felt her watering. Life hadn’t been very kind to the aspiring law student.

Aurélie inspected Aamira’s documents before handing them back. “Please hurry, mademoiselle. You have less than a minute to board the flight.”

Aamira grabbed her bags and sprinted towards the gate. She could see the aeroplane’s door closing and the flight attendants looking at her with a mix of annoyance and pity. She was so close. Just a few more steps and she’d make it.

As Aamira approached the gate, she could see the flight attendants standing at the door, waiting for her. They watched her run towards them with a mixture of annoyance and pity. She knew she was cutting it close, but she had to make this flight. She had a job to do, and she couldn't afford to miss it.

One of the flight attendants, a young woman with a warm smile, reached out to Aamira as she got closer. "You made it just in time," she said, taking Aamira's boarding pass and passport. "Let me show you to your seat."

Aamira followed the flight attendant down the aisle, feeling the eyes of the other passengers on her. She could hear the murmurs and whispers as she walked by, wondering why she had been so late.

As she settled into her seat, Aamira couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. She had made it on the flight, and she could finally relax. But the memories of her parents lingered in her mind, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of regret for not spending more time with them before they died. She wished she had told them how much she loved them, and how grateful she was for their guidance and support.

As the plane took off and rose higher into the sky, Aamira felt a sense of detachment from the world around her. She was going to Paris to work on a case that didn't really matter to her. It was just another job, another way to distract herself from the pain of her loss. But deep down, she knew that nothing could ever fill the void left by her parents' absence.

Aamira closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She knew that the road ahead was going to be long and challenging, but she was determined to keep going. For her parents, for herself, and for the future that lay ahead.

Just then, the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom, announcing their imminent arrival. “Mesdames et Messieurs, ici votre capitaine qui vous parle. Nous allons atterrir sous peu à l'aéroport Charles de Gaulle. Veuillez attacher vos ceintures de sécurité et vous assurer que vos plateaux de repas sont rangés et que vos sièges sont en position verticale. Nous vous remercions d'avoir voyagé avec nous et espérons que vous apprécierez votre séjour à Paris."

(Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be landing shortly at Charles de Gaulle Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts and make sure your tray tables are stowed and your seatbacks are in the upright position. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope you enjoy your stay in Paris.)

Aamira's heart raced with anticipation as the plane taxied to the gate. She couldn't wait to immerse herself in the culture, try the food, and explore the city. She took a deep breath, letting go of all her worries, mentally reciting the goals she had set for herself.

Finish your thesis.

Get your master’s degree.

Find a better job.

Build your life.

Stop wallowing in grief.

As soon as the plane came to a stop, she grabbed her carry-on bag and made her way towards customs. The lines at customs were long, but Aamira tried to stay patient. She had heard horror stories of people getting stuck in customs for hours, but luckily, she made it through in a reasonable amount of time.

Aamira handed over her passport and documents to the customs officer, a young man with a charming smile. The young customs officer had a confident and self-assured demeanour, with piercing hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle in the bright lights of the customs hall. His chiselled jawline was framed by a well-groomed beard, giving him a rugged, yet refined appearance. He had a lean and muscular physique, which was accentuated by his perfectly tailored uniform. With a flick of his wrist, he glanced over her visa and work permit, and then he looked up at her with a flirty expression. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary, his lips curving into a smirk as if he knew the effect he was having on her.

"Bonjour mademoiselle, vous êtes ici pour étudier et travailler à Paris?" he asked in a friendly tone, his voice low and smooth. (Good morning miss, are you here to study and work in Paris?)

"Oui," replied Aamira, feeling her cheeks flush as she tried to maintain eye contact with the handsome officer. "J'ai un visa étudiant et un permis de travail."

(I have a student visa and a work permit.)

"Très bien, everything is in order," he said, nodding as he stamped her passport. "Where are you studying?"

“At Panthéon-Assas," Aamira replied, trying to sound confident despite her flustered state.

"Impressive, you must be very intelligent," he said with a flirtatious smile. Handing back your passport, he grins, "Bienvenue à Paris, mademoiselle."

"Merci beaucoup," Aamira replied, returning his smile as she gathered her documents and hurriedly made her way towards the exit, her heart still racing from the encounter.

Aamira was relieved to see the carousel already spinning as she made her way to the baggage claim area. She looked around, trying to spot her luggage among the sea of suitcases, bags, and boxes. After a few anxious moments, she finally saw her two black suitcases come into view, and she quickly grabbed them, feeling a sense of relief that her belongings had arrived safely.

With her luggage in tow, Aamira made her way towards the airport's exit. She was eager to start her new life in Paris, but also a bit apprehensive about what lay ahead. She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of her apartment in the 5th arrondissement, near the Panthéon-Assas University where she would be studying. She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of her apartment. The driver, an older man with a thick French accent.

Settling down into the back seat of the taxi, she gazed out the window, taking in the bustling streets of Paris. The driver, whose name was Henri, started up a conversation.

"So, where are you from?" Henri asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

"Oh, I’m from Canada, monsieur," Aamira replied, grateful for the chance to practice her French.

"Ah, call me Henri, mademoiselle. Now, Canada you say? I’ve always wanted to visit. What’s it like over there?" Henri inquired.

Aamira smiled. "It’s very nice, we have a lot of greenery and everyone there is really nice."

Henri nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I believe Canadians are very nice. But you know, us Parisians have our own charm!" he said with a laugh.

Aamira laughed along with him, feeling her anxiety begin to dissipate. Henri continued to point out landmarks and share interesting tidbits about Paris as they made their way through the city.

"Voilà, we’re here!" Henri announced as they pulled up to Aamira's apartment building.

"Merci beaucoup, Henri," Aamira said, reaching for her wallet.

"De rien, mademoiselle. Good luck with your studies!" Henri replied with a smile, before driving off into the busy Parisian streets.

Aamira watched the taxi disappear around the corner before turning to face her new home in Paris. She felt a sense of excitement and anticipation for the adventures that lay ahead but the twinge of sadness at the thought of her parents would never leave her. God, her heart ached every time their memories fluttered around her mind leaving behind a hole that would never be filled.

Finish your thesis.

Get your master’s degree.

Find a better job.

Build your life.

Stop wallowing in grief.

The mantra playing in her head, she took a step towards her new home for the next two years. Aamira saw a figure up ahead. Approaching closer, she recognized the kind elderly landlady she had corresponded with over email. She was dressed in a colourful floral blouse and a long, flowing skirt that swayed gently in the breeze. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and her eyes sparkled with a twinkle of kindness and warmth. As Aamira approached her, she noticed the gentle lines on the woman's face, a testament to a life well lived. She exuded a sense of maternal care that made Aamira feel instantly at ease.

"Bonjour, miss," the landlady greeted her warmly. "I'm Madame Dubois, the owner of the apartment. Bienvenue à Paris!" She offered the basket to Aamira. "I brought some fresh bread and cheese for you."

Aamira was touched by the gesture. "Thank you very much, Madame Dubois," she replied gratefully, taking the basket. "That's very kind of you."

"You're welcome, ma chère. I hope you feel at home here," Madame Dubois said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Aamira felt a sense of comfort in the woman's presence. She was reminded of her own grandmother, who was equally kind and loving. It made her feel less alone in this new city.

"Thank you, Madame Dubois. I'm sure I'll love it here," Aamira said with a smile.

Madame Dubois returned the smile, revealing a set of kind eyes that crinkled at the corners. "I hope so, my dear," she said, before gesturing for Aamira to follow her inside. "Come on, let me give you a little tour."

The apartment wasn't anything fancy, but it was cosy and clean. The walls of the apartment were painted in soft shades of beige, creating a calming atmosphere. The hardwood floors were polished to a high shine, reflecting the warm glow of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. The living area was furnished with a comfortable couch and a small coffee table, perfect for relaxing after a long day of exploring the city. The kitchenette was compact but efficient, with a small refrigerator, a stove, and a microwave. Aamira noticed that there were some basic utensils and cookware in the cabinets, which she was glad to see. The bedroom, while small, was tastefully decorated with a cosy comforter and fluffy pillows. Overall, while it wasn't the most luxurious space, Aamira felt that it was perfect for her needs, and she was excited to make it her own.

"Ahh, c'est parfait," Aamira said, taking in the simplicity of the space. "It's exactly what I was hoping for."

"I'm glad to hear that," Madame Dubois replied with a chuckle. "I always worry that my apartments won't be good enough for my tenants."

"Oh no, it's perfect," Aamira said with a smile. "And the location is great too. I can't wait to explore the neighbourhood."

"Yes, it's a lovely area," Madame Dubois agreed. "There are many cafes and shops nearby. And don't forget to visit the park down the street. It's beautiful in the spring."

"I will definitely check it out," Aamira said, feeling grateful for the kind landlady's advice.

"And if you need anything, ma puce, just let me know. You have my phone number," Madame Dubois said, patting Aamira's hand reassuringly. Aamira felt a sense of comfort knowing that Madame Dubois was nearby. “Allez, je te laisse. Repose-toi.”

Aamira thanked the woman again before escorting her to the door, feeling grateful and fortunate to have such a kind landlady. Locking the door, she faceplanted on the soft and inviting couch, its warm embrace enveloping her as she closed her eyes, letting out a contented sigh. She took in the quietness of the apartment, the only sound being her own breathing, and she savoured the moment of solitude.

The past month had been long and eventful, she allowed herself a moment of respite, letting the fatigue melt away as she sank deeper into the cushions. As she lay there, the weight of her parents' absence pressed down on her, and a wave of sadness washed over her, the pain still lingered like a persistent ache. Aamira let out a deep sigh, trying to push away the melancholy thoughts and focus on the new chapter of her life in Paris.

◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇─◇◇─◇──◇

Kylian Mbappé

Rage. Anger. Frustration. Pain.

Kylian's heart pounded relentlessly in his chest, matching the pulsating ache in his injured thigh as he limped off the pitch. His mind was racing with a barrage of thoughts, each one more harrowing than the last. The weight of disappointment and self-doubt bore down on him like a suffocating blanket, crushing his spirit and leaving him feeling utterly powerless. Kylian feels like he’s about to lose control, already envisioning the headlines and the tweets on social media describing his disaster match today.

“Kylian Mbappe misses two penalties, an open goal, is the PSG star still suffering from World Cup?”

“Shameless fraud should’ve let Messi take them”

“He probably faked his injury cuz he was embarrassed about missing two pens. What an overrated loser!”

As Kylian trudged through the tunnel, the muffled sounds of the stadium echoed around him, a constant reminder of the thousands of disappointed fans and the scathing comments that would soon flood social media. The once-familiar sounds of the cheering crowds now felt like a mocking chorus of disapproval, adding to the weight of his already heavy heart.

“Arrogant piece of shit, he needs to leave PSG”

“Haaland is miles ahead of that egotistical bastard”

The silence was only a façade, for underneath it all, the muffled sound of the stadium buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. The distant roars of the crowd, the clashing of feet and the hum of the speakers blended together to create a disorienting cacophony of sound.

“Overrated fraud in a farmers league!”

“Someone needs to get rid of Mpaypal.”

Kylian couldn't help but feel as if he was walking through a nightmare, a hellish landscape of his own making. The thudding of his footsteps echoed like a drumbeat, a march towards his inevitable downfall as his mind plummeted into an endless downward spiral of self-hatred. The weight of his disappointment seemed to grow with each passing moment, crushing him under the weight of his own failure.

Despite the noise that surrounded him, Kylian felt a crushing sense of loneliness. The only company he had was his own thoughts, and they were rapidly becoming a harsh and unforgiving critic of his own performance. He knew that he couldn't avoid the inevitable, but the thought of facing public humiliation was almost too much to bear.

"I can't believe PSG paid that much for Mbappe. He's a complete flop."

"What a pathetic performance by Mbappe. He's clearly not worth the hype."

Gulping down the rising panic, Kylian makes his way to the locker room as his mind clouds with dark thoughts. God, he was so tired of everything. Sitting down on the examination table, his heart’s pounding as Dr Duprès, the team’s physician, starts to examine his injury. The room feels suffocating, and he struggles to calm down as he feels his breathing getting heavier.

“Arrogant piece of shit, he needs to leave PSG”

“Haaland is miles ahead of that egotistical bastard”

He can feel the tension building in his muscles as Duprès continues to press and prod at his injured hamstring. His head feels heavy, the locker room starts to blur as his eyes start watering. Everything feels far away and too close at the same time.

“Kylian, are you okay?”, says the physician looking worriedly at the footballer who seems to have gone two shades paler. But, all he can think about is how insignificant he feels and for fuck’s sake, why does his chest feel so tight?

“Kylian, I need you to breathe for me, okay? ”

Kylian struggled to take a deep breath, feeling a tightness in his chest that made it difficult to draw in air. His heart pounded erratically, like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. The physician's words were distant, barely registering in his mind as he tried to focus on calming his racing thoughts.

But the more he tried to control his breathing, the more his body seemed to rebel against him. His lungs felt like they were being squeezed by an invisible hand, and every breath was a struggle.

"What a pathetic fucking performance by Mbappe. He's clearly not worth the hype."

“Fuck Mpaypal, he ruined the club.”

As the panic rose within him, Kylian's thoughts became a deadly cyclone, shredding and destroying him until he felt like he was going to die. Doubts and insecurities flooded his mind, eroding his confidence and leaving him feeling helpless and alone. He couldn't understand why he was here, in this moment, struggling to breathe and feeling like a failure. Maybe he wasn't meant to be a footballer? Maybe he wasn't good enough?

But just as he was about to succumb to his fears, the physician's voice broke through his racing thoughts like a beacon of hope. "Kylian!" The urgency in the physician's voice was a jolt to his system, bringing him back to the present. "Kylian! Please. Focus on my voice. You're going to be okay, just keep breathing."

Duprès’ words were a lifeline, pulling Kylian back from the brink of despair. He focused on the sound of the physician's voice, willing himself to calm down and control his breathing. Dr Duprès’ hands were a calming presence on his shoulders. As the minutes ticked by, Kylian slowly began to regain control of his breathing. The tightness in his chest began to ease, and his heart rate began to slow down. The doctor continued to monitor him, checking his pulse and blood pressure to ensure that he was stable.

Kylian felt drained and weak like all the energy had been drained from his body. His body had reached its limits as exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed onto the examination table, His vision blurred, and the sounds around him became muffled as he slipped into unconsciousness.

When he finally came to, he found himself in his hotel room, with his mother hovering anxiously near his bed. The room was quiet and dimly lit, with the only source of light coming from a small lamp on the bedside table. Kylian's head throbbed with pain, and his body ached from the physical and emotional strain of the day.

He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he slumped back onto the bed. His mother rushed to his side, her eyes filled with worry and concern. "Oh, Kylian, thank God you're awake," she said, her voice laced with relief.

Kylian could see the anxiety etched on his mother's face, and it pained him to know that his struggles had affected her so deeply. "I'm sorry, maman," he whispered, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. "I don't know what happened."

His mother shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't be sorry, my son. You don't have anything to apologize for. You just need to rest now. Everything else can wait."

Kylian nodded weakly, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Did PSG win?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kylian's father, Wilfrid, walked into the room, followed by his younger brother, Ethan. Wilfrid's expression was stern and serious, but there was a hint of tenderness in his eyes as he looked at his son. "PSG won, Kylian," he said, his voice steady and calm. "But that's not what's important right now. What's important is that you get better. You need to take care of yourself, and we'll take care of everything else."

Kylian felt a sense of gratitude wash over him, knowing that his family was there for him, no matter what. He could feel his body relaxing, finally able to let go of the tension and anxiety that had been building up inside him. His brother Ethan came over to the bed and squeezed his hand, offering him a reassuring smile.

"You scared us there, frérot," Ethan said, his voice filled with concern. "But you're going to be okay. We're all here for you."

Kylian managed a weak smile in return, grateful for the support of his younger brother. Kylian's mother leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Just rest now, mon amour," she murmured softly. "We'll be here when you wake up." As she pulled away, Kylian closed his eyes and let himself drift off into a peaceful slumber, comforted by the love and support of his family.

As the young prodigy drifted off to sleep, his family gathered around his bed, their faces etched with concern. His father, Wilfrid, paced back and forth across the room, his anger simmering just below the surface.

"We should have never extended with PSG," he said, his voice thick with frustration. "Look at the state of our son. This isn't healthy for him, He's barely holding it together"

Fayza's eyes filled with tears, and she placed a hand on her husband's arm. "Don't say that, Wilfrid," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "We had no way of knowing this would happen. And Kylian loves playing for PSG."

"But at what cost?" Wilfrid countered, his frustration mounting. "We've seen the toll this lifestyle has taken on him. The promises they made about getting him a player to support him as a number 9 were all broken. Maybe it's time to reconsider our priorities."

Fayza nodded, her expression grave. "I know," she said softly. "But we need to be careful. Kylian's happiness is important, but so is his career. We don't want to make any rash decisions."

Ethan, always the optimist, spoke up, his voice filled with determination. "We just need to support him, no matter what," he said, his eyes locked on Kylian's sleeping form. "He's going to get through this. We'll make sure of it."

The family fell into a sombre silence, each lost in their own thoughts and worries. The weight of their son's struggles hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate them all. As they watched him sleep, they couldn't help but wonder what the future held for him, and for their family.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

A/N: Hey, lovelies! I accidentally uploaded this first chapter without adding Kylian's entire pov in this lmao. I just wanted to add that this story is quite heavy and it comes from a personal space in the sense that it reflects some of my emotions. My stories are like an extension of myself, I convey my thoughts and feelings through these characters. It's a first for me, so I would appreciate constructive criticism. Anyways, as usual, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts, feelings and opinions 💞

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