#( i need to make a pre-fall tag but that means i have to CHANGE THEM ALL )

[legomonkiefics]

Haii! Could I maybe request hcs for MK with a Spider demon s/o please? Like, pre-becoming s/o and then as a partner! Hope you're doing good and you have a good day!

💛🍜 Gold Threaded Webs — MK x Spider demon!Reader HCs (GN) 🍜💛

Genre: Fluff || he/they pronouns for MK, they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- At first, he completely flipped. All of your spider features sent gross shivers down their spine, making him reel back in discomfort and loudly exclaim disgust. Which, obviously, didn't exactly put you two at the best impression of one another at first

- MK was also pretty convinced right off the bat that you were working for Spider Queen, making them jump around and wave their staff at you like an anxious bee waiting to sting. You were eventually able to cut through his ramblings to better explain yourself, which at least calmed MK enough to not actively treat you like a threat

- He was still pretty obviously grossed out by your arachnid traits, though. It was a little funny to see him bolt away if you pretended to toss a web in his direction or watch the color leave their face when you gave them a sharp grin. But it was... lonely. Seeing this super happy and helpful hero avoid you so intensely, while funny at times, did also leave a lingering feeling of hurt

- MK picked up on this eventually. He realized how he was making you feel, and he ended up feeling stupid about it, and especially guilty. You'd not attacked him or any of his friends, he had no reason not to trust you. So he swallowed all his pride and reservations, and began making an effort to hang out more

- He was pretty surprised how quickly you two ended up becoming friends. Though he sometimes still got nervous or odd around you, with time he was able to have you tag along with ease. To even his own shock, he ended up minding your demonic features way, way less. You ended up quickly getting well acquainted with him, and soon you were a regular addition to his duo with Mei

- As you got to know one another further, he began to even see you as cool. Your extra traits proved helpful in battle, and as they got more comfortable with you, they started asking more and more questions about what it was like being a spider. You even helped him feel more comfortable in his spider transformation, which they were very thankful for

- When you two eventually started dating, MK had a much warmer approach to you. He complimented the parts of you they previously feared, determined to show you how much they'd changed and how they love everything that makes you who you are

- They love seeing you weave patterns into webs, and sometimes they'll draw a pattern for you to try to replicate. He tries to keep every single one and always feels so bad if the webs fall apart somehow

- Once they realized extra limbs mean extra hugs, he started wanting hugs all the time from you. It felt warm and reassuring, and the way they'd be completely wrapped up in your arms comforted them

- He always offers to travel around with you in his spider transformation to try and "level the playing field". He fully recognizes that he's much smaller than you in that form, but he thinks it's fun to travel on your shoulder

- You're a little surprised with the fact that MK didn't seem to care about you being a demon, and him being way more concerned about spiders. Once MK explained that basically all of his friends are demons, you joked that maybe he should start having more spider friends. He tried his best to hide it but you could see how he mentally feared the idea from the way he was sweating and trying way too hard to casually brush it off

- To try and make up for their earlier attitudes, they get super defensive of you if anyone tries to act weird around you or insult how you look. He makes it very obvious to others that he sees you differently now and doesn't want you being disrespected. He does tend to sort of jump to conclusions sometimes and get a little protective, but he means well

[snaillock]

would you do satosugu discovering their "friend" (both of them have a fatass crush on m!reader) is a teen dad, and just all of them chaotically taking care of a baby. (like those collage students raising a baby tiktoks?)

ok so technically i only write for blue lock buttttttttttt… i am more than willing to make an exception for this. this is also my favorite niche of satosugu fics so im super honored someone requested it from me

tags: male reader has a foster daughter bc hell yeah girl dads, unnamed child bc that's too much for me, reader is a sorcerer, found family but in a janked up kinda way, whipped satosugu, pre-hidden inventory so everyone is in high school in this this a long one yall

part two coming soon!

★ when assigned an extremely harsh mission, you find an orphaned child barely a year old within all the rumble. you soon found out her family was recently killed in the destruction. unsure of what would happen to her after this, you decided to take her as your own.

★ scared of any judgment, you didn’t tell anyone about her so only a few higher-ups were aware. luckily you were allowed to live off campus so you two could have more space and privacy.

★ however the physical effects of raising a kid all on your own at such a young age were certainly showing. you came to school visibly worn down, often falling asleep in the middle of class and taking more absences than usual.

★ the first people to notice, of course, were gojo and geto. as nosy as they were, they tried not to push it, knowing you had just come back from a really taxing mission. though they did get more and more suspicious whenever you didn’t let them visit your new place.

★ however one day, they did spot you out in public wearing a baby carrier with, of course, a baby they’d never seen before resting right inside. they immediately came up to you and bombarded you with multiple questions before you got them to chill out and explained everything.

★ wanting you to take some time off (and win you over), they offer to take care of her regularly. who were you to refuse? after all, it is free babysitting and you were already using up so much money hiring actual babysitters.

★ during their first babysitting job, you thanked them profusely before going back into your room and instantly falling asleep the moment your body hit your bed, taking a very well-deserved nap.

★ you see, gojo was already pretty hesitant about you having a kid around. this was before he took in megumi so he found basically any child gross and annoying. (though he’s somehow even more attracted to you now that you’re a dad.)

★ coughs dilf lover gojo i mean what?

★ so when gojo picked up your baby for the first time, she immediately cried when they made eye contact and he got so so personally offended that he started rethinking this whole babysitting thing.

★ the first thirty minutes or so of taking care of your kid went pretty okay. that was until she started crying again and neither of them knew why.

★ you see, these idiots have no idea how to care for a child.

★ they frantically tried to calm her down and figure out what was wrong without needing to wake you. they checked if she was hurt in any way, she definitely wasn’t hungry since they already fed her, nor did she need to be changed. gojo even called shoko to see if she could do anything.

★ when they eventually saw her crawling towards your room and sobbing right outside your door, hesitantly let her in to see her climb onto your bed and lay down with you, realizing she just missed you the whole time. that entire experience made them so exhausted that they almost climbed into bed with you. but when they saw the gratitude on your face after you woke up, it made it all worth it.

★ luckily the next few times they watched over her, babysitting got more and more easy as she grew used to them.

★ they start coming over so often to look after her that your place basically becomes their second home.

★ geto is in charge of doing her hair since the last time gojo attempted it, it was just a big mess of hair ties and ribbons. geto’s definitely not complaining since he loves to get her ready. in fact, geto does a lot of the responsible stuff when taking care of her since gojo, hmm what’s a nice way to put it, lacks a lot of the necessary skills.

★ oh yeah, remember what i said about gojo hating younger children? yeah, that completely changes as he spends more time with your daughter. he’s almost always playing with her or showing up with a brand new toy or stuffed animal just for her. he ends up loving her so so much and wants to be her cool fun dad.

★ unfortunately both of them are way too nice when it comes to disciplining her. they let her get away with so much. late bedtimes, too much tv, grabbing any treats she wants off the grocery store shelves. how can they not spoil such an adorable little girl like her!?

★ what’s also unfortunate is how they try to drag you into it.

“come on, y/n. let loose a little. cake for dinner does sound pretty appetizing right now.”

“come on. just let her watch ten more minutes before bed.” gojo lazed on the couch with her on his lap. “besides this cartoon is starting to get good.”

“come onnn… just let her buy it.” geto held up a sparkly pink dress you already told him she doesn’t need with his own sparkles in his eyes. “she’ll look so cute in it. i promise i’ll pay you back.”

★ their hearts explode whenever you’re affectionate with her. they love the way you gently rock her in your arms while humming a sweet lullaby, slowly lulling her to sleep. the way they see you kiss her forehead after placing her into the crib before quickly turning around and acting like they weren’t staring the whole time. they fall head over heels for you for probably the twentieth time by now since they met you but those times were definitely the hardest.

★ they’ve been in her life for a good while so when she begins talking more frequently, she starts calling them her papas as she does with you. gojo aka former “ugh kids are so gross and icky” feels his heart combusting whenever she calls him that and he owns that title proudly. meanwhile geto feels so endeared and honored that she sees him that way.

★ “we’re not the stepdads. we’re the dads that stepped up!” looking asses.💀

★ the secret of you having a kid doesn’t last for long since these two can’t keep quiet about it. they’re just way too happy and want to show her off. especially gojo who scrolls through 100s of photos of her while gushing about her to basically anyone who’ll listen. shoko and nanami are the most common targets whenever this happens.

★ he even ends up showing photos of you and your daughter napping together (that you had no idea he took), making you snatch his phone away in embarrassment.

★ whenever you guys go out on family dates to go to the beach or picnicking, geto always takes the time to dress her up with pretty hairstyles and cute little outfits. he absolutely loves doting on her.

★ they love her with all their hearts and would do absolutely anything for her. she’s so lucky to have three weird dads take care of her and raise her. a very odd and… unconventional family dynamic but an amazing one nonetheless. this family only grows bigger and bigger once gojo takes in megumi and geto practically adopts mimiko and nanako.

please read my rules before following

taglist: @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo

ayo we rocking with the star bullet points?? 🗣️⁉️

[mysicklove]

i had the most unhinged thought and raced to your inbox because i need this demon expelled from my body asap. hawks coming home from the worst day of patrol, everything went wrong and he had to speak up at a press conference, play the part of perfect, and all he wants is to melt into your touch. you can see it in his eyes, the dark circles, and the weary tilt of his smile. "baby bird," his voice is hoarse, "need you to hurt me tonight," so he can finally unravel. you're the only one he wants to be perfect for. okay goodbyeee 💀

𝐔𝐍𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐕𝐀𝐒

Pairing: Masochist! Hawks x Gn! Sadist! Reader

CW: face slapping, lots of blood, cock stepping, kicking, bruising, cock slapping, heavy degration, loss of air, mean reader, tons and tons of tears, scratching, mouth spitting, no mention of safe word but keep in mind it is there !!!

A/N: anon im sorry i totally changed ur thing, i just saw masochist hawks and sprinted. the demons wrote this, not me. dont look at me everyone. HEED THE TAGS

it was a way to blow off steam. something that he looks forward to, just some time where he doesn't have to think anymore. only feeling he has the stinging sensations and the tears that prick his eyes. it was an embaressing obsession he had. he loved pain.

Keigo walks to the bedroom, his hero costume tattered, and dark circles under his eyes. he is exhausted, but coming to you for your touch. pulling you close to him, and mumbling into your neck how bad he wants you to hurt him. till he bruises and bleeds. till every thought just disappears except for you.

and so you pull away, and slap him. it makes him tumble backward, and his yellow glasses fall off. he touches the tingling feeling on his face, blood spilling out from the skin caught on your wedding ring. you dont let up, sending another loud smack across his face, and this time he does fall to the ground, landing on his ass.

tears prick at his eyes, and he can feel his lip tear open. the taste of blood coats his mouth and he gulps, looking up at you for more.

he feels your foot jab onto his clothed cock and he keens, wincing up at you. "w-wait," he stutters, throwing his head back when your press even harder. "fuck!"

"wait? you want me to wait? after you begged for it like a dog?" he is squirming under you, tears now streaming down his face as you dig your foot into his pants.

"'m sorry. sorry—you are going to kill me!" he pleads, hands trying to dig themself into the carpet to fight back against the pain.

you sigh, and let up, instead using your foot to push at his chest, causing him to fall over and onto his back. "take off your clothes, Keigo," you mumble, taking a seat on the bed with crossed legs and staring down at him.

"okay. okay. I will. Just give me a minute!" he pants, tearing off his jacket and shirt as fast as he can. he knows something is coming, you werent playing nice.

you dont give him enough time, he reaches for his pants, and without hesitation you slam your foot into his stomach. he goes tumbling backwards and lands on his side, curling into a ball and panting. his eyes are wide and he is gripping onto his adomen. it surely will leave a huge bruise tomorrow. but thats not what he is worried about, he cant breathe.

"awww, did you get the wind knocked out of you? that's what happens when you move too slow," you tease, as you take in his appearance. he trembles in front of you, looking up at you in fear. tears drip down his cheeks and onto the ground, as he tries and fails to catch his breath.

you giggle at him, padding over to him. he flinches at the footsteps, bracing himself for another kick, but you just begin to unbutton his pants, pulling them down. "useless thing, arent you. cant follow any directions," you coo, now tearing off his boxers.

his cock springs out, tip red and leaking pre cum. "such a pervert! you sick fuck, keigo. who gets hard from getting beat?" you land another slap to his thigh, and his whole body jerks.

you smile at the red handprint, glancing back at him to see him beginning to drool. its coated red from the blood from his cheek and lip. he's is still heaving from the kick, eyes wide, and body gasping for oxygen.

"say Hawks do you get turned on when you are losing against villains? pop a boner like a freak for anyone who hits you?"

his eyes flash to you and he is shaking his head desperately. his words are breathless, "no. no. 'm not a freak!"

a quick, but harsh slap to his cock. he jumps again, globs of tears falling quicker. "fuckkkkk," he whimpers, shaking his head back and forth. his whole body shakes, and fingers dig into his own skin.

"you liar! do you want to be kicked again?"

"no no no no. im sorry. im sorry! im a freak. a pervert who likes to get hit. im sorry," he sobs, reaching for your ankle for comfort. you slap it away and he hisses, rubbing the back of it with a sniffle.

but you smile at him and lean over to sit on his chest. his head is still lolled to the side and his body racks with sobs. "shhhhhhh. so whiny Keigo. thanks for admitting it. my disgusting pervert. here, a reward."

you grab his face, hard enough to bruise, and force him to look up at you. his eyes are half shut in a wince, but he tries to force them open to look at you. you pry his mouth open, lean forward, and drop a glob of spit into his mouth.

he doesnt hesitate to swallow it, opening his mouth up again and sticking his tongue out to show you its gone. "th-thank you," he whimpers, and you smile fondly at him.

you hands trail up and down his down his body, sending vicicoius red raised scratchmarks along his pretty skin. "now, pervert....what should we do to this pretty canvas?"

he grins up at you, tears still dripping, and blood staining his cheeks and lips, but still stars in his eyes. "anything."

[omamervt]

yo yo! ttrpg trick or treat!

I mean if you're gonna come at me with this I'm never gonna turn down a chance to talk about City of Mist and its spinoffs, the game I am the most normal anyone has ever been about anything. (if I understand the rules correctly, this is Treat)

ahem.

City of Mist is an urban fantasy noir RPG heavily inspired by Netflix's Daredevil TV series. It now comes in LGBT-themed Sentai flavor (Queerz!) and Cyberpunk flavor ( :Otherscape) as well, with a High Fantasy version (Legend in the Mist) in the works! It also has some pretty great community support, just look up City of Mist Garage on DriveThruRPG!

The thing this game does that makes it special to me is that player creation and advancement is almost 100% driven by character development, and it does it better than most other RPGs that I've seen that try to offer the same.

at character creation, you choose four Themes for your character. You use these themes to determine what kind of character you're working with, and what kind of skills their life experience might have given them. It's also how you can tie in fantasy elements and give yourself literal super powers.

Once you've chosen your Themes, you answer four questions about your character for each Theme. These become your Power Tags, which you use in place of stats to make your roll modifiers, as well as your Weakness Tags, which you or the MC can invoke to give you a -1 to a roll, or to add a complication to the current scene. (this also gives you an XP point in that Theme so it's worth it to you to let this happen.)

But the other thing that comes with every Theme is a Mystery or an Identity. The idea of City of Mist is that you aren't born with powers, you Awaken to them when a Mythos - an idea, concept, or character from a story - decides to enact its will through you. Examples from the pre-made characters would be Excalibur, the wealthy socialite who became the Rift of King Arthur after she finds the Ultimate Weapon, which manifests for her as a piece of jewlery that transforms into whatever she needs in the moment. But the idea of a Mythos never fully survives contact with reality, as your character is still the person they were before - someone with a life, family, friends, goals - an identity. Another of the pre-gens is Kit, a Kitsune spirit who manifested itself fully in our world, but has disguised itself as a teenage girl after falling in love with a boy. Her affections form an identity outside of her purpose as a Mythos.

You as a player have the choice between trying to live the life you had before by creating Identities for your Logos themes - things that anchor you to your life in this world - or by pursing mysteries for your Mythos themes - finding out what your Mythos expects of you, and then deciding whether or not to do it.

Progression in this is interesting because the main story will put your characters' identities in conflict with the will of their Mythos, as well as the needs of the group as a whole. As you play, you can decide that your character is ignoring their Mystery to the point that getting answers no longer truly matters to them, or abandoning their Identity to the point that they wouldn't recognize their old self anymore. The attention to the themes you advance the plot of will grant you new powers in those themes, whereas the ones you allow to fade away will eventually be replaced by new character aspects that became important in the meantime. And it happens entirely at your discretion - the MC can't tell you to mark Crack/Fade on a Theme, they can't force you to explore your characters' personal story arc, but doing so MAKES YOUR CHARACTER GROW AND CHANGE, WHICH IS HOW YOU LEVEL UP!

I could probably write a few more paragraphs about this game if anyone cared.

[actual-changeling]

Do you think Crowley would be more emotionally open without Aziraphale? I’ve never thought about it, but I’ve just read the tags of your last ask and now I’m really interested

Short answer? Yes, absolutely.

Long answer? Also yes, but it's complicated. <- past me was correct, this got very long, my apologies.

What-if scenarios are always part canonical evidence/part subjective interpretation, because the only Crowley we know is the one who spent six thousand years orbiting Aziraphale.

Still, there was a pre-Aziraphale him, up until Job I presume, which is when they started being lonely together, and we do see what they were like!

The Starmaker is his 'before', the being he was before the doubt, the war, the fall. Before hell and the garden and Aziraphale. She is the blueprint the Crowley we know is built on. In the short time we have with her, she's incredibly emotive—with both positive and negative emotions—and her body language is soft, almost fluid.

Showing emotions is simply a natural part of being a person, and what exactly that looks like obviously varies; but this angel has never been punished for doing so. There are no consequences, it's safe to exist however she wants (though not much longer).

After this, we get Crawley what I assume is more or less a short amount of time after the fall. Everyone got settled in hell, and once the institution was functional, they now needed to actually have humans running around on earth. Otherwise there are no souls to torture.

Even here, Crawley is still open, still smiling, still soft, although a bit more covert in their body language. She laughs and—this is the important part—questions God right on there on the walls of Eden.

Even after falling for asking question, she does not stop, not for one moment. Despite the trauma they undoubtedly must have gone through, Crawley sees an angel, slithers up to him, and strikes up a conversation, trusting that he will not hurt them.

Now, this is where subjective interpretation comes in, because we have no information of what the fall was actually like. They got punished for asking question, for rebelling, for trying to change the system—but in my opinion, they never got punished for having emotions.

In the modern day, angels are terrified of making mistakes or asking question, but they are still emotive, they physically express their feelings. Some are more intense in their expressions, others subdued, but from Muriel all the way to Gabriel, they talk about emotions, they show emotions, and that in of itself is not a crime.

Hell is just as—if not more—emotional than heaven. Just remember Hastur when Ligur was melting and then later during the trial, or Beelzebub when ze summons Crowley in the first episode.

Yes, they communicate in code a lot, but only when it comes to very specific kinds of information and interactions, not when someone is going insane over the blaring alarm.

Why does all of this matter?

Because it proves that the level of emotional suppression Crowley and particularly Aziraphale have reached is not taught by either heaven or hell.

Instead, just like Aziraphale's claims that 'heaven is watching', it is a rule system instated by himself for himself, and by extension for Crowley; he set the requirements for interaction and forced Crowley to meet them if he wanted to be around him.

We don't see Crowley laugh the way he did as Bildad or the Starmaker anymore, we never see him carefree or joyous or sad. I mean for fuck's sake, he HIDES behind his glasses, a physical manifestation of the repression he's caught in.

Humans wouldn't notice his eyes in the same way the police doesn't notice them at the convent in Tadfield. The glasses show up during Job, and we know Crowley already had a plan to go against orders, so glasses it is. However, he doesn't wear them during the crucifixion, which comes after Job. Crowley tells us she spent a lot of time with Jesus, so you'd expect her to be wearing them, but she isn't—whatever her relationship with Jesus was, she seemed to trust him a lot, and Aziraphale wasn't around.

Aziraphale is the one who demands silence, who never wants to talk about anything he himself hasn't approved as a 'safe' topic, he and his fucking forgiveness whenever Crowley questions God, calling him a demon and pushing him away whenever he openly shows affection towards Aziraphale.

So yeah, of course Crowley cannot regulate his emotions and has no idea how to express himself now, Aziraphale has shoved a gag down his throat for six thousand bloody years and still wants it to stay in place. Our closed-off Crowley would not exist without Aziraphale's continuous presence in his life, and that is a hill I am more than willing to die on.

Crowley is getting his heart broken in the worst, most violent way imaginable both times. But now? His face is stone and steel, one third of it hidden away behind black-out glasses. No tears, no words, no desperation, no flying hands or fluidly moving body.

This is the kind of person you become when someone else forces you to make yourself small, when emotions are punished and affection withheld until you act the way they want. It's horrible, it's unhealthy, and it destroys parts of yourself that you will never get back, no matter how hard you try.

So, in conclusion, yes, without Aziraphale's influence, Crowley would be softer, more open, and we would still see remnants of the Starmaker in him—but we don't.

[roxyteal]

(Jesus Christ it happened again. Mobile decided to not only publish the draft but also not save any of my edits. Pardon me if you see any appear) (Oct 30: Put context about his sobriety in the beginning, as opposed to in the middle out of nowhere.)

Today I am compelled to talk about Joe 5. It may include things I already mentioned in a different post, but those were in the tags so if any of this seems like not new info, sorry about that.

ANYWAY

Joe 5. Also this gets long so bear with me.

Joe 5 (but you can use either Joe or 5) came from a complete set copy of "Joe`s basics joke game". He was relatively fine as a person, with highs and lows. He's a bit of a snark but it's usually lighthearted. He even realized he had a problem and got clean, though... Alcohol still kinda haunts him as a result.

At some point, he and his entourage found the Webspace. On that day, they were among two others - a copy of Denied's Basics (the 10th apparently), and the 82nd Dave, who was a rogue for some reason.

Things were alright until it was mentioned that there was a pre-existing Joe and company around, and whether or not they'd like to merge with him, and so on. 5 thought that was weird as Hell and said no. But his companions said yes.

This resulted in 5 distancing from them since they're "not my friends anymore", and "I don't even know them anymore". And from then on, he resented the idea of merging, and that damned "Joe 1" for being so Goddamn happy. What's he all smiley about, he thought. The fucker.

But at least he still had his school. His empty, ghost town of a school. He quickly realized he couldn't live alone in that so he started staying in a tiny apartment, which quickly became a mess because of his plummeting self-worth. If only he'd just gone with everyone else, this could've been avoided, he also thought. It's his punishment for going against the grain. Being different. Maybe even "defective". Well shit, let's be defective. Why not.

He would have his code and model changed so that his hair would grow naturally. Somewhere in his reasons for this was needing to feel responsible for something, so he wouldn't completely fall apart. And maybe having it would make him feel better, whether about himself, in general, or both. He recalled that he considered asking his player about it in the past, but never got the nerve. Better late than never, he tried to rationalize. That's what people say to forgive themselves, right?

But the shoulder-length he requested (and wavy to boot, he didn't realize he had that...) spiraled out of control and now reaches his waist. Of course he couldn't keep up the end of the deal he put upon himself. It really needs the trim, but he couldn't be assed to try, and it disgusts him. The only good thing was how it never tangled. Game magic shit or whatever. But regardless of that, he looked like a cryptid, and he felt like one too.

At this point, his only comforts was TV, eating, and sleeping. He didn't need to do the last two obviously, but it gave him something to do, a distraction. When he ate, he could focus on the taste and nothing else. When he slept, he would stop being able to drown in his thoughts, welcomed instead into nothingness. When he watched TV, it numbed him enough to stop caring.

But even in his lowest moments, he refused to give in to his old addiction of... That. Diving back into it would truly mean the end had come. He'd rather be tortured to the brink before he had a sip again. Even now. Especially now.

He rarely ever left the apartment, kept the lights off, curtains to the balcony closed, and didn't allow visitors. He rarely ever left his bed, in fact. Sometimes he'd lie there and daydream about leaving. To where? Who knows. But this place was so painful to live in because everyone else has it great and he's got nothing so it's like... Just leave. But where?

He'd ponder it. Maybe just go out that tunnel and see where the Internet busses take him. Leave it up to fate. Maybe he'll find a nice little NeoCities domain. That whole area's so fuckin' large, there had to be a place where even 5, a worthless piece of shit, could fit right in! Yeah...

But he never gets out of bed. Out of the apartment. To the entrance tunnel. To the bus stop. To NeoCities. He just lies there, thinking about it. And nothing happens.

One day, he realized he was running out of food. The only reason he'd ever leave his trash heap of an apartment. By this point it was a matter of looking presentable enough to go out into that bright, colorful, vapid world crafted by that... Uh, mask man, and his spooky associates. Or keep staring at the dump that is 5's living space and contemplate if he could live without the sensation of eating. He still had his two other trusty vices, is it okay to lose one?

But, fuck. He loved the instant noodles. The frozen meals. The rice cups he could drizzle a little soy onto. And all the other kinds of convenient, packaged stuff. Goddammit.

So, he stepped around the trash, and next he knew, he was out the door. Fine. Fine. Fine! He'll get so much, he'll never have to come out again!

But as soon as he was outside the building, hair almost encasing his torso like a shroud, something shifted. Today's the day he's going to leave. Yeah. He'll get this done, pack up, make a pitstop to Vincent's or whatever pretentious name that supernatural son of a bitch had, flip off the gaudy building, then head straight for the tunnel. If he had time, he might even egg that fucking place!

This is it! God, it'd been so long since he was excited. Genuinely excited. He wanted to hold onto this forever.

Mood improved, he carried on with his mission. He ignored the other shoppers, checking off everything he picked up from his list. It was one of his first lessons here, because how could anyone remember everything they needed? He sure couldn't.

Things were going fine, until... He bumps into someone. Baldina. And she single-handedly became the craziest thing to happen to him.

He barely recalled the conversation, but it led to her hiring him as an assistant at her school, despite his clear lack of qualifications. It seemed that like Mr. Strobe-bow-skis, she too had plenty of people under her thumb, in numerous positions. A whole network of them.

One of which, 5 got to meet while struggling pitifully with the coffee machine, just seconds away from having a breakdown right then and there. This guy called himself, er, "I'm never"? But one word. Okay sure whatever. And in spite of 5's threatening tones and verbiage, Imnever was patient enough to show him how to use the brewer. Even informed him of how Baldina takes her coffee.

So what's Imnever's story? Oh, he teaches art here. He's more of an animator by trade, but this suited him just fine. Huh. Well, still more impressive than anything 5's ever accomplished.

The three of them became friends. He wasn't sure how that was possible, but finally he had a reason to go outside more often, instead of stewing in his own suffering for weeks at a time. In fact, slowly that poor excuse of an apartment turned into something a little more decent. It wasn't super tidy, but if Imnever, Baldina, or both wanted to visit, finally 5 could and would allow it.

It got to a point where, one morning, they surprised him with a present. A motorcycle. Apparently the two had taken his daydreaming musings seriously, about how cool it would be to have one. Also, 5 had forgotten what day it was - his birthday.

He cried. He couldn't possibly accept this. He didn't know how to ride it. He'd ruin it or hurt someone. All the classic, self-depreciating excuses he was told he was using.

But, as Imnever said, what you don't know, you fear. Once you do, you don't. Frankly that sounded confusing, and yet, these types of phrases helped him get this far, so... Just accept the damn thing.

The helmet was really cool, but he had so much hair that it wouldn't be able to fit. At long last, he got the trim he had desperately needed; up to just below the shoulders. But Baldina did it for him. Almost ironic, but at this point, who cares?

He forgot how light his head felt after the excess was cut down. It was a nice feeling.

Once he actually tried to overcome that fear of failure and took the chance to learn something, he was surprisingly quick on the uptake. And before long, he was zooming down streets in that badass chopper of his.

Maybe the Webspace isn't actually so horrible. But, thinking that, he reminisced about that day, where he was so sure he was gonna leave this domain behind and start over somewhere else. He slowed to a stop in front of Infinite School or something like that. Hm...

And he gave that treacherous high-rise building the bird, laughing manically as he drove onward. Of course he was going to stick around nowadays, but it still felt right to do. And boy was it worth it.

Life here had finally looked up for 5. Until, well... The demon showed up. But that's a whole other fuckin' story.

[mashficolympics]

Introducing the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics!

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL!

Hello everyone, and welcome to the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics, a week-long fandom-wide writing festival that aims to highlight and appreciate the amazing work of writers involved in the M*A*S*H fandom!

This festival is open to all ships (and gen work, of course), and will run Monday, July 3, through Sunday, July 9.

Your organizers are Jay (Jaybirbb on AO3 and @faggothawkeyepierce on Tumblr) and Parker (AMRV_5 on AO3 and @amrv-5 on Tumblr). Feel free to contact mash.fic.olympics@gmail.com with questions!

request list || prompt list

HOW IT WORKS:

Each day of the week-long festival will have a specific theme. Authors will have from now until the night before each theme to craft a fic to fit and post it to the AO3 collection M*A*S*H Fic Olympics (find it here!).

All of the posted works for a given day will fall under its theme. The fics can be submitted publicly or anonymously, and as individual works or chapters of a single piece. 

Works submitted to the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics collection on Archive of Our Own will be posted across seven days (the moderators will approve each fic on its theme day!). The links to the AO3 works will then be posted to this blog, moderated by yours truly.

Each day’s theme will be provided at the bottom of this post. A list of prompts for potential inspiration will also be provided.

As another fun way to engage with the M*A*S*H writing community, we will also be accepting fic requests to be filled out during the event! Find out more here!

We encourage readers to review and share the works once they’re posted so they can be experienced by as many people as possible! 

The event will begin on Monday, July 3rd and end on Sunday, July 9th. Participants should submit their fics by 5 p.m. CDT (10 p.m. GMT) the night before each relevant theme (meaning first submissions are due July 2nd, and last ones July 8th!). That said, we’ll also accept late submissions—the more fic, the better!

FAQ:

"Do I have to follow the theme?"

-Yes! This will make it a lot easier for us to organize on which day we’ll post the fics. Plus, it’s the point of the fic olympics!

"Do I have to follow a prompt?"

-No! The prompts are there for you to use as inspiration, but you can change them up or totally ignore them. As long as you follow the theme, everything’s good!

"Can I submit more than one fic?"

-Absolutely! Write and submit as many works as you want.

"How should I format my fics?"

-You can post the daily fills as chapters in a single work, or as individual works; it’s up to you! 

"How do I submit to a collection?"

-When you create a new work, you’ll find a menu in the “Associations” box that allows you to post your fic to a collection. Enter “M*A*S*H Fic Olympics” in the entry box, and it should allow you to select the collection and post to it! 

"How do I request a fic? How do I fill a request?"

-Everything you need to know should be in this post!

"I have more questions! Help!!"

-Do not hesitate to contact us at mash.fic.olympics@gmail.com if you have any other questions.

RULES:

-This challenge is open to all ships, as well as gen work.

-Canon-compliant, post-canon, pre-canon and AU are all fair game! 

-Each day of the week-long challenge has an associated theme. To participate, write something incorporating that theme and post it to the M*A*S*H Fic Olympics collection on AO3. 

-No maximum or minimum word count. 

-Please tag your work properly, so everyone’s experience can be safe and enjoyable! The moderators may ask you to add a tag to your work after you submit it. We also reserve the right to refuse fics until they are properly tagged.

-Remember to be kind! Any participants who engage in hostile behavior to other participants may be removed from participation. We’re all friends here :)

-Have fun and be yourself <3

THEMES AND SCHEDULE: 

Monday, July 3 (Due July 2): Letters

Tuesday, July 4 (Due July 3): Weather

Wednesday, July 5 (Due July 4): Horror

Thursday, July 6 (Due July 5): Orange

Friday, July 7 (Due July 6): Injury

Saturday, July 8 (Due July 7): Alternate Universe

Sunday, July 9 (Due July 8): Secrets

PROMPT LIST:

If you find yourself struggling for ideas, we have a prompt list available here!

Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts! These are totally optional, and only intended to help provide some inspiration if desired!

Have fun, and happy writing!

[veryace-ficrecs]

Dinluke fic recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

three rules (back straight, head forward) by queen_rowenas - Rated T

Leia is helpless to watch as Senator Almen continues on as though nothing is wrong. “Mand’alor, may I introduce you to Senator Organa’s brother, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.” She can feel all of her hard work crumbling, whatever trust she had formed with the Mandalorians shattering before her as the Mand’alor slowly stands to his feet. Great, she thinks numbly, Another galactic war on my hands. (Leia Organa has never been one to back down from a challenge. Although advising the new Mand’alor in his introduction to the Senate and also trying to keep her Jedi brother from causing an intergalactic incident could prove to be a bigger challenge than expected.)

It Was Always You by subtlehysteria - Rated G

He’s strong, powerful, his footwork far better than just your average person who occasionally skates for fun. As if that wasn’t enough, Luke watches in shock and awe as the man executes a neat triple toe loop, landing near-flawlessly with only a slight wobble. He doesn’t even register what’s happening, just sprints down the last set of stairs and rams into the barrier, hands raised to cup over his mouth and help project his voice. “HEY, YOU!” The man falters, head snapping to Luke. A single thick brow rises in question. “DO YOU WANNA BE MY PARTNER?” Luke yells. * Or, the one where Luke needs a new ice dancing partner and Din just happens to be in the right place at the right time.

begging for you to take my hand by luminouskywhiner - Rated T

Cara could laugh, but Din knew one thing for certain. Luke Skywalker was utterly and unfairly beautiful, and the most captivating person Din had ever met. If only he could manage to get more than three words out around him without the tips of his ears burning. ~ Alternatively titled; Din Djarin is a socially awkward and sleep deprived single father who falls in love with the prettiest pre-k teacher in the galaxy.

I'd like to hang out with you for my whole life by coffeecatsme - Rated T

The first time Din touches his helmet to Luke’s forehead, it's by complete accident. Or, 5 times Luke doesn't know Din kisses him and 1 time he does.

Crystal Tears by Insomniac_with_dreams - Not Rated

“This is going to be awkward,” Luke sighs down at the baby in his arms. R2 beeps besides him and Luke nods in agreement. “Nothing to do but go back.” His X-Wing is almost completely dismantled, sparking where wires hang limply. There is no way he’s getting off of this cruiser until it’s repaired. There aren't even any escape pods on board all of the docking bays empty. He hadn’t anticipated this, and now he was going to have to walk back to the bridge with the baby and explain himself to a heartbroken Mandalorian.

The Weight of Words by subtlehysteria - Rated E

Dim blue eyes stare up at him. Hair that might once have been rich with colour hangs limp and brittle around a gaunt face. A face with a split lip and a fading bruise on one cheekbone. A face that is blank of all emotion and yet simultaneously screams help. No, he doesn’t see danger. He sees only a man trying to meld with the wall and make his body as small as possible while staring down Din with a glare so cold that it could cause anyone’s blood to turn to ice. The man is dressed in thread-bare prison garb that hangs off his slight frame like oversized drapery and around his wrists is a pair of complex-looking cuffs. They’re the same ones Grogu had been shackled with, cuffs that somehow diminished his powers. If this man bears them too could that mean… Din crouches, bringing himself down to the man’s level. “Are you a Jedi?” * In an alternate universe where the name Luke Skywalker has long since been lost, Din Djarin discovers an unexpected prisoner aboard Gideon's ship, finding not only a potential teacher for Grogu but also the man who will change his life, and his heart, for the better.

First Star I See Tonight by snapdragonpop007 - Rated T

“You’re bleeding,” Luke murmured. “I’m...maybe not fine.” Din conceded. Luke gently held his face between his hands while giving Din a very bright, very angry smile. “You think?” -- Or, Din is heavily concussed after that whole darktrooper thing, and it takes him a second to recognize his husband.

i give to you by treescape - Rated G

“They’re lovely,” Luke said, and if the pleasure in his voice seemed genuine, his brow furrowed slightly in consternation. Din shrugged uncomfortably, because what was he supposed to do—bring a gift for the kids and nothing for their teacher? Or, Din's been accidentally courting Luke.

Where There's a Will There's a Way by xiaq - Rated M

Luke walks straight to Din and Din suddenly feels like he should be doing something with his hands. “Hi,” he says. “Hi,” Luke agrees, grinning. “So. I didn’t get your name, before. Grogu just calls you ‘Daddy’ in his head but I’m assuming I should call you something else.” Din chokes a little. ***** This is basically an Accidental Warlord Din Djarin fic in which Din plays the role of reluctant DILF leader with a heart of gold and Luke plays the role of initially distrusted twink who quickly becomes beloved by all (especially said warlord). The Mandalorians are like, "we've only had Luke Skywalker for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."

The Way in the Sky by ShyOwl - Rated T

The man, the Jedi, the individual who had been so calm and detached just moments ago now tripped back out of the elevator, cloak tangling around his feet, with a panicked look on his young face, “I forgot to tell you where we’re going!”

Yoda’s Academy for Li’l Padawans by MissDinahDarling - Rated T

Being a new student is hard. Being a new student whilst your socially awkward father avoids the school at all costs and your new teacher pines uselessly over a man he’s never met before is even worse. But by god, Grogu is gonna get through this.

unstoppable force, immovable fathers by godbinder - Rated E

“I just need a refuel,” Luke tells the droids, carefully throwing his legs over the edge of the cockpit to slide to the ground. Grogu coos softly, his hands opening and closing his three fingers. “Not a problem, we’ll have you—ready to go...” She trails off when she gets a look at the child, who begins babbling. The Force moves around her in happiness then surprise, shock, then something akin to anger sparking faster than a thermal detonator. Before he can open his mouth, in a move that would have left Han impressed, she has a blaster in hand and shot him in the face.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

A/N- Stop this my favorite chapter, and the next one will be so good and full of fluff too.

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff!, talks of birth, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

Hints of smoke filter the room as the candles are brought to life, basking the room and the altar with its yellow dancing hue.

It’s hard, but you manage to get on your knees on the pillow and slowly look up at the portrait of Rhaenar. “Hello my boy,” you whisper as if he were here. “Sorry I didn't come last night, I,” you scoff softly. “Couldn’t stay awake,” you laugh softly and drop your gaze as you clasp your hands together. “I’ve come to update you, all the forests at Storm's End are finally burnt, no tree means no ships. This morning the soldiers managed to completely cut off all food from coming in and out of Storm's End as well. Let’s see how King Gendry handles this problem.”

You sigh deeply and look up at his portrait; the only way you can see his face ever again. “Thanks to the Riverlands alliance and the Reach we’ve managed to reach King’s Landing borders, we have them surrounded. It’s been a short war, but well she hardly has any allies here…she’s just stubborn….” you trail off and groan as a a dull but irritating pain radiates throughout your lower back. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m in good hands here with Jon…I’m grateful he’s with me. He doesn’t leave my side now that the babies are due any week. He…” you swallow thickly and smile softly. “He’s kept my anger in check. Oh! And Helios left now, last night, he’s on his own now. Hopefully, I’ll see him again.”

Your smile then falters and tears fill your eyes, but you hold them back and instead offer him a happy smile. “That’s all for tonight, I’ll return tomorrow. I love you.” You linger in front of the altar for a moment longer before you try and push yourself up. However, the huge belly you now have forbids you proving Jon right; you do need him by your side all the time now.

“Ser Podrick,” you call out to the Knight standing outside the door. “May you come help me up? I believe Jon is right.” You look back and expect the door to open right away, but there’s no sound of metal armor brushing against each other, there’s no hurried footsteps as the kind knight tries to hurry to do as commanded, there’s silence.

“Ser Podrick?” You call out again. You wait, but nothing. “Okay,” you breathe out and now drop your head to try and get up yourself.

It’s a struggle, definitely, but you start to move up to your feet. The door then creaks open and you scoff breathlessly. “I’ve done it, Ser Podrick, no need to help now.” You smirk proudly and peer back, and that’s when you notice that the man hidden under a cloak is not Ser Podrick, or anyone you know; and you know that because you’ve made sure to take in all the faces of the soldiers that fight for you, everyone that lives in this castle and or is temporarily staying. This man is a stranger.

You try to reach for your concealed blade, but the man snatches your wrist and shakes his head. “No,” he says in an accent you’ve only heard across the sea and…with the Unsullied. She sent him.

You try to fight back and use your knee to hit him, but you can’t move your leg that far at the moment, so you instead stumble back and hit the altar. You try to reach for a candle, but then another man barges in and he quickly makes sure to cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that makes you lightheaded for a second, before darkness follows as you fall unconscious.

——

*JON*

The view of the stuffed wolves shifts as it tilts to the side. “Damn,” he hisses under his breath and reaches over to sit it up again and tilt it again so it can stay seated like the other one on the other cradle.

Just now a small package had arrived from Old Town, Sam had sent presents for the unborn twins; two black stuffed wolves. And Jon wanted to surprise you, but there was one defiant stuffed wolf that wouldn't stay up.

“Fuck it,” he gives up and leaves the one wolf on its side. He however does stay in front of the cradles and watches them even if they lay empty for now. A knock albeit then raps on the door, interrupting his quiet moment.

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

The door opens and footsteps walk in past the door, he turns and sees Ser Brienne, and the other six Queensguard Knights and Ser Jaime outside the door with worried expressions that make him falter.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne interjects and averts her gaze. “It’s the Queen…”

His eyes widen and a smile begins to tug on his lips as he thinks that you went into labor.

“….she’s gone,” Ser Brienne finishes, causing Jon’s smile to fall and panic and disbelief to paint over his face—“she was taken. Ser Podrick was put down by some kind of sleeping effect. I’m sorry, I will go on horseback and try to follow the trail of the abductors.”

Jon drops his eyes and stumbles back. “How…how could you let this happen?” He spats. “Why wasn’t there more than one guard with her?!”

“She went to the altar within the castle grounds, we never thought they’d take her from here. I’m sorry.”

Jon exhales and turns around as he shakes his head before he knocks the pitcher of water and cups off the table out of anger for them, your Queensguard, and himself for not disobeying you and staying by your side.

“We think that the abductors were probably undercover, or hiding and preying on the Queen from the shadows.”

Jon scoffs and then abruptly picks up his sword to storm out of the room. “Ser Brienne, you and two others of the Queensgaurd hurry and try to catch up to the abductors trail, two of you can stay with me,�� he immediately commands. “Ser Rayne, have the castle locked down, no one leaves or comes in. Wake up the members of the small council have them convene at the hall, rally up the soldiers to get ready to march out.”

“One more thing,” Ser May adds. “There were two soldiers; an Unsullied and what we assume to be one of the Second Sons soldiers caught trying to escape the castle.”

Jon’s eyes snap to the woman knight and the corner of his lips curl. “Where?” He asks.

“We tied them up outside in the courtyard. Your sister, Lady Arya, is watching them.”

Jon nods and quickens his footsteps to head out to the courtyard first.

“If I may,” Ser Jaime cuts in and hurries up to catch up to Jon’s side. “I would like to accompany Ser Brienne and the Queensguard. I owe the Queen my life, let me help.”

Jon looks at Ser Jaime and then glances at his golden hand. The Knight notices and counters.

“I’m not whole, but again, I owe her my life. And…I made her and her father a promise. I might’ve failed before, but I won’t now. I’ll find her, protect her and your children.”

Jon’s hesitant, he only wanted the best after you, but if he wants to go then he can’t stop him. “Fine,” Jon says. “Go.”

Jaime offers Jon a nod before he and the others depart and hurry off to do as said. Once Jon makes it outside, Tyrion joins his side. “If I may—”

“You cannot,” Jon cuts him off. “For all I know you were the one that let in those people that took Y/N. Actually I should have you arrested. Ser Lana, take him to the cells, I’ll think of what will happen after I’ve brought back my wife.”

The Knight right away grabs Tyrion and pins his arms back, but he still manages to cut in with more words that begin to irritate Jon. “It’s smart to lock me up. I don’t have anything to do with it and only just found out as I saw your sister torturing the soldiers, but you won’t get an answer from the unsullied. Nothing will make him talk.”

Jon stops and turns on his heels to talk back. “I don’t need him to talk.” Jon clenches his jaw and gives him his back to continue towards the courtyard.

When he gets there he sees the two men tied back to back, both of them are bleeding but only one of them looks affected by the torture afflicted.

“Have either of them spoke?” Jon asks Arya.

Arya stands up straight and shakes her head. “No. Not yet, but they will.”

Jon shoots a glare at the unsullied. “Only one will,” he deadpans before he snatches the collar of the Unsullied’s chest armor and begins to drag him out towards the gate. “Bring the other one,” he commands Arya.

And without question or hesitation his sister obeys and trusts his actions, letting him feel thankful for that at this very moment.

“<You’ll die screaming in flames,> the Unsullied spats in Valyrian probably thinking that neither Jon or Arya can understand, but thanks to you he was learning and understood every word.

It’s why Jon stops in his tracks and drags the Unsullied around to be able to face him as he counters back venomously. “<After you.> He rolls his eyes ahead and continues to drag the man out, the gates open without him needing to say anything, and there in the darkness that blanketed the hill ahead lands a green beast. Due to the cloudy night he’s not seen, but his thunderous footsteps are heard before his blazing bronze eyes appear ahead, they begin to narrow as he begins to growl.

Jon walks towards Rheagal and leaves the Unsullied soldier there on the ground, before he steps back and clasps his hands in front of him. And without hesitation, remorse or a moment to ask questions, Jon says those menacing words. “<Dracarys>”

Rhaegal breathes out fire over the soldier, swallowing him in flames within seconds. The intense heat hits Jon, but he doesn’t move, he stands in front of the flames and watches the soldier begin to squirm, clench his jaw but eventually scream out when he couldn’t handle the flames eating at his flesh and bones. Jon watches the flesh melt off his bones before nothing is left but black burnt bones.

When all that moves is the flames Jon slowly turns around and faces the other soldier with a burning glower on his face. Rhaegal approaches Jon to be beside him, and growls at the soldier without needing to say anything. And this one soldier, unlike the other one, is visibly shaking, sweat beads roll off his face, and a foul smell begins to come off him as he just keeps his eyes on the dragon beside Jon.

“Please,” the soldier begs under Aryas grip. “Please. Mercy.”

Jon stomps towards the soldier and assures him in an angry filled tone. “My dragon won’t eat you, but only if you tell me where they took my wife.”

The soldier swallows thickly and slowly slides his eyes to Jon. He hesitates for a moment but his fear takes control and he can’t help but betray the Queen he was meant to be fighting for. “Harrenhal, Queen Daenerys asked to bring her to Harrenhal. That’s all I know, I swear, please…mercy. I’ll fight for you.”

Jon lets out a deep breath and without needing to say anything Arya pulls out her dagger and slices the man’s throat, killing him instantly. “Let Rhaegal eat him,” Jon grumbles before he sets towards the great hall.

When he’s inside all the members are already there, most of them are not as collected as usual because of how late it is, but they’re there and all go quiet as Jon strides in with his jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. Arya follows behind with her chin raised high, and they notice you’re not leading the way or behind them, providing even more confusion.

“I know the hour is late, my lords and ladies,” Jon addresses everyone when he’s on the platform facing them. “But a dire situation arose, the Queen, my wife,” he sighs and clenches his fists. “Was abducted.”

Murmurs spread around the room and Sansa gets up from her chair, losing her smile as she thought you were having the babies.

“Queen Daenerys sent some of her men undercover to take her when she was visiting her son's altar,” Jon shares with them. “No one was killed during the act, and the Queensguard did manage to find two who had fallen behind. I killed them already after I got information from one of them. They’re taking her to Harrenhal. ”

“How did they sneak in and not get detected?” Sarella demands to know. “Why did her guards not stop them? That’s why they’re there!”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, “but they couldn’t, or at least that’s to my understanding, Ser Brienne said Ser Podrick was put to sleep that’s how they took her.”

“Where is Ser Brienne?” Elia asks. “And that dwarf? It was probably him, he was probably her spy, that's why they got in without getting noticed.”

The others quietly agree, and Sansa can’t defend him now because she might be right.

“Ser Brienne, and Ser Jaime and three others from the Queensguard went after the abductors. Lord Tyrion was placed under custody by me just now,” Jon shares. “He’ll remain there until after I return with Queen Y/N, after that we will decide what to do. As to how they got in?” He pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I will get her back. Daenerys seems to be getting desperate, she knows she can’t hold Kings Landing without allies, winter is cruel and she can’t feed the people she wants to protect. She’s losing but doesn’t want to fail, it’s probably why she took the Queen, she probably wants us to surrender for her return, and if…y/n gives birth then she’ll use the children as leverage as well. But I won’t give up,” Jon adds and exhales deeply.

“I won’t lose y/ns fight, nor will I lose her, I will bring her back home and we’ll take that throne. Daenerys wants this war to come to an end, so we’ll give her what she wants.” Jon spats menacingly.

“Arya,” he names and the girl straightens up. “Sarella,” he adds, causing her to lift her chin. “Ser Davos, Lord Royce, you will lead the attack on the ground. They may have the numbers, but they’re on our lands, we know our lands, Daenerys doesn’t, we have the advantage. I will ride on Rhaegal and fight Daenerys and Drogon, keep her away from the armies while Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime and the Queensguard find y/n,” he continues, “we will find y/n and bring an end to this war.”

“What about me?” Elia interjects and jumps to her feet. “What will I do? It’s my cousin that they took, my sister, I can help.”

Jon’s gaze drifts to the girl, he knows she’s good on horseback, probably better than he is, but no matter how skilled she is he can’t bring himself to risk her life….and well Sansa does need people here to help her in case Daenerys wants to attack while the armies are marching elsewhere.

“Stay here,” Jon shares with the girl, already noticing her disbelief and annoyance. “Help Sansa keep the castle safe. That’s your job.”

Elia parts her mouth to argue back but Sarella pulls her back and whispers something to her, bringing silence and no other objections.

“Bran, if you can…see where Eraxis is, we might need her in battle,” Jon adds as he steps down the steps. “As for everyone else, fight, win, and don’t die, your Queen depends on it. Now let’s bring Queen Y/N back.”

——

*LATER. YOU*

The sound of booming thunder startles you awake. Is it storming outside?

You slowly sit up, and immediately that daze that took you captive and made you believe you were home disappears as you notice the small stone room you’re in.

That’s right…you were taken by Unsullied, by Daenerys.

Where did they bring you?

The room smells humid, thanks to the light provided by the single dancing flame eating away at the torch, you notice moss growing between the creaks of the wall. There’s only one window, but it’s far too high for you to see through. There’s one tiny bed, and a vase of water on the wooden nightstand, nothing else resides in this room besides that.

What’s her plan with you?

“Hey,” you call out and slide off the bed to stride towards the door. “Hey.”

There’s no answer.

“Hey!” You yell out louder and begin banging at the door. “Where am I? Where’s Daenerys! Tell her to come and stop being a fucking coward!” You pound both fists on the door, but receive no answer, so you turn and glance at the window; it’s far too small for you to escape out of with the belly, even if you didn’t have it, it would still be far too small. But it can give you insight about where you are.

Yet…there’s nothing for you to use to climb on and see through it, damn it!

You turn back around and begin to pound on the door again. “Tell me why I'm here! Bring her!”

Nothing again. You don’t have weapons to use. Damn. So there’s nothing left to go but keep hitting your hand against the door to annoy them and hopefully get an answer. Several minutes pass before finally through the sound of heavy rain multiple footsteps begin to approach the door. You back up expecting them to open the door, but instead the panel from the door's small window opens, and Daenerys' face appears.

“You should be resting,” she says, that’s the first thing she tells you after what she did—“it’s not safe for the babies—”

“You should let me out,” you cut her spitefully. “Or come in here. Let's see how good it goes for you.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’m no fool, I know that the moment I walk in there you’ll try and kill me, as you know I have someone I have to protect now too.”

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

“You won’t be hurt,” she adds. “But you won’t be let out either.”

“Jon will come,” you sneer. “He’ll get me out.”

A sly smirk tugs on her face before she retorts. “I’m counting on it, but you can save him from the fate that he'll meet today. Bend the knee, you’ll be pardoned and get to live your life with your children wherever you want. Don’t, and lose him and all those that come after you.”

You swallow thickly and rather than seeming upset, defeated and give into submission, you lean forward and hold her gaze with a burning glare; even if inside your heart was beginning to tear at the thought of losing the one person that mattered to you now, the only person keeping you together, Jon.

“Kill him,” you snarl. “And I will kill you after I carve out that damn baby out of your stomach.”

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

“Ask me,” you retort with a mischievous smirk even if you begin to feel a sharp cramp on your lower stomach. “Ask me how it is that you were able to get pregnant.”

Daenerys stiffens and her jaw clenches. She doesn’t reply so you continue.

“It was me. I was the one that reversed that witches spell. You should be on your knees thanking me you fucking bitch. Now, ask me why I did it.” You snicker.

Daenerys lifts her chin and looks at you with a gaze full of tears. She backs away and the panel then closes, blocking out the view of her tear covered eyes.

So she has you here as a trap to lure Jon and everyone else here? She wants to kill Jon now too?

No…not him. Anyone but him. If he dies…what else is there? What—

Again there’s a sharp cramp on your lower stomach and back. This was a lot more painful, it rattles your entire being.

The babies?

You twist around and look around panicked, no ounce of anger lingering behind, no hate for Daenerys, nothing but worry. Thunder claps in the sky, causing your shoulders to jump and more pain to attack your body.

But you’re here, stuck in a cell without Jon, they can’t come yet. Not yet. You’re all alone here, without even your dragon to keep you company. They can’t come yet—

More pain hits you and this time water pours out of you and runs down your legs and hits the stone floor. “No,” you murmur with tears in your eyes. “No. Not yet, please.”

Yet you have no word on the matter, they’re coming fast.

You try to lay on the bed, but the pain becomes insufferable, it makes you restless and doesn’t let you keep quiet anymore, you begin to grunt, groan and cry out as the first baby begins to come out fast. It’s not like before either; and maybe it’s due to the fact that you had your sisters, midwives and maesters with you, but this time the pain of labor is worse.

So much so that without you knowing Eraxis even feels the suffering you’re under, unbeknownst to you Jon had come across her on his way to you and he heard Eraxis cry erupt in the sky. He however doesn’t know why she screeches, he thinks it’s because she knows you’re missing. She might miss you, that’s what he thinks.

But no, you were under withering pain, covered in sweat and squatting on the ground.

“Come on!” You bellow out and then cry. “Get out!”

Thunder keeps erupting in the skies, sometimes it drowns out your cries, but sometimes it seems you’re louder.

A few minutes, or hours later who knows, just as Thunder roars in the sky, out slides the first baby after your last push.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and shakily lift the baby up in your arms, noticing that the first one out is Rhaenyra. She’s so tiny, so red and beautiful.

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

However, he cried right away, Rhaenyra doesn’t. She stays quiet and you can’t help but grow concerned.

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

And as if understanding her name at that second she then breaks out crying, she begins to squirm in your hands, and squints her swollen eyes.

“Hi,” you muse and press your forehead against hers very gently. “Hi my love. Hi Rhaenyra, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” You smile, but it’s only for a second because more pain then overwhelms you as the other baby follows to come out.

You try to be quiet so as to not startle Rhaenyra, but you can’t keep quiet, you cry out as you push. You place Rhaenyra down on the skirt of your dress and claw your nails on the floor as you keep pushing.

Thankfully the second baby comes out faster, and this one uses his new fresh pair lungs to cry out the moment they’re out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper and lift up the second baby, noticing that it’s a boy. The second one is a beautiful baby boy. “Hello my sweetling.” You cry out happily as you pull him towards you to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hello my love.”

You then proceed to put him down next to his sister, and rapidly yank off your necklace to wrap the chain around the umbilical cords to cut them off. Once that’s done you pull the thin blanket off the bed to wrap them up and keep them warm, before you pick up the both of them and cradle them in your arms with a wobbly grin, and tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know, I know, your father isn’t here, but you’ll meet him soon, he’s going to be so happy. He’s so excited to meet the both of you.” You smile and watch them both calm down as they hear you talking to them. “Does it sound scary outside? Yeah that’s thunder, but it’s okay, you know my uncle Oberyn, your uncle, said that being born during a storm is a sign of good luck, a good omen, you my babies will have a good and exciting life.” You grin and watch the baby boy watch you with eyes as dark as Jon are. “But as for now it’ll go away.”

You then reach for the boy's hand, and he doesn't fail to wrap his little hand around your finger. “I’m sorry,” you direct at him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a name yet, your father…hasn’t decided. He’s too nervous about it.” You laugh softly. “You look like him,” you whisper. “Same dark eyes, same dark hair.”

The afterbirth comes out but you pay no mind to it, you’re too busy admiring the babies. “You, my lovely girl, have his eyes too, they’re so beautiful and dark.” Her hair albeit wasn’t the same color as Jon’s and her twin brothers, she doesn’t have a lot yet, but from what you can see, you can tell her hairs are silver-white just like yours, and your fathers.

She has Jon’s eyes though, they both do. Thank the gods they do. It’s like having him with you.

“There’s so many people happy to meet you.” You continue talking to them, unable to help your smile as they both watch you as if they’re hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“When we get home you’ll also meet your cradle mates, the dragon eggs your big brother Rhaenar picked out for you.” You let out a shaky breath as tears threaten to come out, but you hold them in. “You’ll meet Eraxis and Rhaegal too. You’ll fly soon as well, I promise.” You muster a smile and can’t help but caress their little cheeks.

They keep watching you, they bore their deep and dark eyes in you, and they’re all you can watch too. That is until the door opens and Greyworm walks in with a stoic face.

“Get out,” you grumble.

He however ignores you and approaches you. He crouches down and takes them, he takes the babies from your arms.

“No,” you sneer and try and push yourself up. “No! Give them back to me!”

The babies notice the stranger holding them, they don’t feel your warmth anymore and cry out. And that only makes you panic more, and triggers an adrenaline rush that lets you stand on your feet.

“Give me back my babies!” You bellow out as Greyworm only gets further away. “Greyworm!” You reach out for him, but the door then slams shut behind him and your babies. All you’re left to do is once again pound on the door and cry out, but this time with more desperation, this time with fuming anger, and thick tears.

You hit and hit the door over and over again until your hands are bloody and bruised. Eventually though the adrenaline runs its course and exhaustion overruns your body, leaving you stranded against the door and battling sleep.

The thunder had seemed to stop too, which is good, the twins are probably scared. Without the thunder however the cell was quiet, and it’s dangerous because it tempts you to sleep.

But you can’t fall asleep, you need to stay awake and keep trying to get that door open. You need to rescue your babies, they need you….

But this exhaustion is like a weight, it keeps pressing and pressing down. It dulls your senses, making your vision blur as your eyelids begin to droop, your hearing begins to tune out, causing you to ignore the rattling that shook the fragile castle and the hundreds of footsteps outside of the castle that sounded like more thunder. Your mind begins to go quiet as well as it dangles between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Grunting and groaning, metal clashing against each other begins to sound outside the door, but it seems distant so you ignore it and can’t help but rest your eyes.

Just for a second…

Alas, only a few minutes before the door gets pushed open, hitting your back and causing you to snap your eyes open.

The door gets pushed again, so you quickly drag yourself to the side and have no choice but to wait for the visitor that slowly creeps inside.

There’s no kind of weapon around you, so you hide in the corner of the cell and hold your breath so as to not be heard. A foot steps inside first before the door gets pushed open more, you then turn your head away and clench your jaw.

Yet just as the person peeks their head inside you quickly recognize the head of dirty blond hair. “Ser Jaime?” You breathe out, causing his head to snap to the side where you sit.

He gasps as his eyes widen with shock at the sight of your withered body.

“Your Grace,” he mutters before he rushes inside. And as he does come to you, you notice blood dripping down his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” you point out and stay pressed against the wall.

He shakes his head and crouches down, letting you see him twist his face as pain strikes from his leg. “Don’t worry about me, let’s get you up and out of here. You need to see a maester.”

You let him help you up but shake your head. “No…no, the baby’s,” you whisper and grab his arms to meet his gaze with tears clouding your eyes. “Greyworm took them.”

Jaime shakes his head again. “You’re in no condition to chase after anyone, let Jon do it, or Ser Brienne.”

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

“Don’t you hear it?” He says and glances back. “He’s fighting the Queen to get you back.”

You shake your head. “She’ll kill him, she wanted to drag him out—”

“Don’t worry,” he cuts you off. “He’s not alone, he’s brought a whole army with him. I’ve never seen someone determined to get someone back...I envy it.”

The corner of your lips pull to a small smile at the thought of Jon coming after you, at the thought of him fighting for you, but the longer you stay here, the longer you’re apart from them.

“Then he can fight Daenerys,” you retort and pull away from him. “I’ll go after Greyworm and rescue my children. You shouldn’t doubt my determination, Ser Jaime.” You scoff as you begin to walk out of the room, feeling the exhaustion get pushed back as determination and fury replaces it for now.

“You are very stubborn,” Jaime throws out at you as he walks out after you.

However, before you can make it far you stop as you see the bloody bodies of Unsullied soldiers laid on the ground. You don’t feel bad, you’re just impressed that a man with one hand did all this.

“I’m impressed,” you tell the man and bend down to pick up a spear off the ground. “You did well.”

Jaime scoffs. “Not well enough…” he trails off and you glance at his bleeding leg.

“Let me have a—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Later. Right now tell me where we’re going. Do you know where Greyworm is taking your kids?”

You drop your gaze and search the ground as you think. “I,” you mutter and blink repeatedly.

Luckily you don’t linger too much in thought because it hits you quickly—There was a battle here now, Daenerys was here to lure you and Jon out so you can bend the knee. If you refused then her plan was taking the babies and forcing you to your knees. So they won’t be here, not so close…

“Kings Landing,” you throw out. “We may have them surrounded, but they can still go in and out, that’s where he’s going.”

Jaime doesn’t question you and nods, letting you add one more thing before you leave. “Thank you, ser Jaime. I owe you my life.”

Jaime shakes his head. “No you don’t. Now come on, my horse isn’t far from here.” He proceeds to grab your arm and begins to lead you out of the castle, and the closer you get outside the more you hear the sound of battle cries, shouts of pain, and clashing metal.

Yet the noise doesn’t compare to what plays in the sky. When you get out of the cover of the ruined castle, there up above rages a beautiful battle between dragons. Their fires light the sky like if thunder and lightning played within the clouds, as if the sun was out hiding within the thick stormy and smoke clouds. It was captivating.

“Here,” Ser Jaime snaps you from your stupor and pulls you to a brown horse. “Can you ride?”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes.” Your body fucking hurts, but fuck it.

Ser Jaime helps you mount the horse before he struggles to get on his. Eventually when you make it out on the dirt road, the sound of the battle on the ground grows quieter the further you get, but the sound of the dragons fighting does grow quieter, it doesn’t fade in the distance, their screeches and roars are still heard clearly miles away.

You look up and you can still see them battling, and you also catch someone else beside Rhaegal and Drogon in the sky. You hadn’t heard her at first, it didn’t seem like she was with them either when you first got out of the castle, but you see her now hidden between the clouds. And then she isn’t there.

The fire Drogon blasted out extinguishes, hiding the view of your white scaled dragon. It makes you slow down your horse to watch what comes next as your fascination grows.

However the darkness lingers, letting you not see a thing. You can only hear the sound of Eraxis screech before seconds later it seems that Rheagal blasts out fire next, letting you see Eraxis jaw clamped on Drogon’s neck, and her claws digging in his wing, causing them both to begin twirling down to the ground.

It was awestrucking, but…why was Eraxis there and not searching for you? It’s not like she would pay much mind to the battle without you there to tell her. There was also this anger within her, it was strange and new, it was almost like she was possessed.

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

Nevertheless, you nudge the horse to pick up its speed once again, letting you catch up to Ser Jaime before there’s a loud thud that shakes the ground.

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

You peer back and smirk softly. “The dragons.”

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

“Rhaenyra…and undecided. Jon hasn’t chosen a name.”

“Rhaenyra.” He nods softly. “It's a good name for a Queen.”

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

“We’ll save your kids. If that’s the last thing I do,” he assures you, making you pull your gaze away from the dirt road below the green hill you wait on.

“Thank you,” is all you can say again.

Ever since he gave you his word he’s nothing but loyal. It’s more than what you deserve.

“There,” Jaime breaks the short silence and points. You follow his finger and catch a single carriage approaching rapidly. Since it’s dark you don’t see the rider right away, you have to nudge the horse to take a step forward, that’s when you gasp as you catch Greyworm at the front, leading the horse.

“All right, I’ll block him off at the front and you sneak behind him when we begin to fight,” Jaime explains. “As soon as you get those babies, you run out of here and meet Ser Brienne, she’ll be at the south side of the castle. Don’t linger behind, just take them. Understand?”

And leave him to die? He’s not the warrior he once was, it will be like easy practice to Greyworm. Jaime will die.

“I can’t leave you to die!” You snap out with concern.

Jaime meets your gaze and shakes his head. “I’ve told you already, I owe you, don’t worry about me.”

You draw in a deep breath, and just as you’re going to argue, he nudges his horse to run down the hill as Greyworm gets closer. You wait a little longer and just watch Jaime get further down the green hill until he eventually runs out onto the road and blocks the carriage's way, causing Greyworm to come to an immediate halt.

They share a few words from what you can tell, but you’re too far to hear. They actually take a while talking, it begins to make you desperate to reach your babies, but you have to wait until the weapons are drawn.

They better be in there though.

You draw out a deep breath and clench your jaw as you watch them through the darkness the stormy clouds cast. It’s not until a few minutes later that finally Ser Jaime draws out his long Valyrian steel sword that you finally can run down.

The sound of his weapon clashing against Greyworms makes you want to help, but you force yourself to just stop behind the carriage. You don’t look at the battle going on ahead, you try and block out the sound and quickly slide off your horse, causing more pain on your lower body. You then proceed to run to the back of the carriage and throw the doors open, but gasp in surprise as you see two Unsullied soldiers sitting there at both sides of a wooden cradle.

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

You meet his black eyes and counter. “<It's Queen now. Let me take them and I’ll spare your lives.>”

The one on the right laughs and then shakes his head. “<We can’t kill you, but you won’t get these babies if you don’t bend the knee to the true Queen.>”

You reach back for your spear and get ready to talk back, but suddenly one Unsullied soldier jumps out of his seat and throws himself on you, making you fall back on the dirt ground harshly.

You let out a groan, but have no time to dwindle in your new pain because he then presses the stick part of his spear against your throat, cutting off your air circulation, and dulling your other senses.

You try to press back, but he’s stronger right now, he’s angry too, adding to his strength. It seems like he's going to best you, but you manage to slip your hand off his spear and instead throw your hand up and stab your fingers in his eye.

The Unsullied soldier doesn't make any noise, but he throws his head back and stays on top of you, adding more weight on your body as he sits down to grab at his wounded eye.

The other Unsullied peeks his head out and notices his injured companion and throws out a curse before he reaches back for his spear. Fuck.

He can’t join this damn fight or you’ll never win. Fuck. Okay.

You look at your side to search for your weapon, but find it too far out of reach. The weapon of the man you just fought is at your feet and he’s sitting on your legs, so you can’t get it. Fuck!

Okay….

Out of desperation to reach your newborn children, you pump yourself with as much fury and adrenaline as you can muster and throw your upper body up to sink your teeth on the soldier's throat. The soldier stiffens, and just as he tries to claw at you, you pull back and yank off a part of his throat with your teeth, causing the other soldier to suddenly stiffen in surprise.

You use that though and push the now dead man off your body to swipe his spear off the floor. You then quickly hurl it at the second soldier’s chest still on the carriage.

Now that they’re both dealt with you push yourself off the ground and stumble towards the carriage. You still hear Greyworm and Jaime fighting ahead, which is impressive that the one handed soldier is holding out so long, but you can’t stop, he told you not to, so you keep ignoring it and climb onto the back that now holds the wooden cradle.

“Rhaenyra. My love,” you mutter out and don’t care about your appearance, or that you’re hurt, you reach them and look in, seeing both of them there, sleeping peacefully as if nothing is happening around them. “I’m here,” you assure them even if they’re sleeping. “I’m here,” you smile. You reach down to pick them up, but just as you do you catch a glimpse of the fight happening ahead, and see Greyworm stab his spear through Jaime’s stomach with a violent blow that knocks the one handed knight right off his feet.

You’re told not to, you’re supposed to just take the twins and leave, but he’s sacrificed so much, he’s been kind and loyal, he’s been a friend surprisingly enough, you can’t help your heart from sinking and your feet from taking you to him bleeding out on the ground.

“Ser Jaime,” you whisper and cradle his face to turn it towards you. “I can still help you. Just…don’t take the blade off.”

The man swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No,” he grunts. “No...Princess,” he mutters. “My time here is done. I…tried to keep my promise now. Just go.”

Tears wells your eyes and you regardlessly press on his wound to stop the blood from trickling down. “No…you have to see your brother. He’ll be waiting. You have to live and…and still watch over me. That’s an order.”

He scoffs and then coughs out blood. “Tell my brother…” he trails off and continues to cough out more blood, darker this time. “Tell him that I love him…that no matter what I will always look out for him.”

You nod even if you don’t want to accept his death.

“And you…” he continues and cups your hand with his gloved one. “It was an honor serving you…Queen. Your mother would be proud…of the women you are…don’t let her down okay? I’m sorry…I couldn’t protect her, or you. I’m sorry.”

You whimper and shake your head. “I forgive you. It’s thanks to you that I found my children. You did good…it was an honor having you as my protector.”

The corner of his lips tug up slightly, causing blood to begin trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His breaths begin to go ragged, and his hand falls off your hand and lands on his sword's handle. He then drifts his eyes to it and then points his eyes behind you.

You’re confused at first, but you blink and peer back, understanding now that he’s pointing at Greyworm. He’s telling you to kill him.

Greyworm was kind to Rhaenar without question, he was kind to you. But he ripped your newborn babies out of your arms and took them, he’s not on your side anymore, he’s just another enemy. A causality, and Daenerys only friend now. It’s a message to her from you.

That makes killing him much easier.

Albeit, just as you’re going to reach over for the sword, Greyworm comes over and pulls his spear out of Jaime’s stomach, causing blood to pour out of the wound and only pushing Jaime closer to death. And fueling your anger.

So just as Greyworm is walking back to the carriage you reach over for Ser Jaime’s Valyrian steel sword and clutch it in your hands.

Now usually you prefer spears, they’re lighter, easier to use, but your spear is too far away and well, this blade is better than Greyworm’s spear. It’s actually a lot lighter than you expected Valyrian steel to be too.

“Why do you mourn for a man who stabbed your grandfather in the back, and chose his own reputation over being loyal to you?” Greyworm spats out.

You exhale through your nose and slowly push up the sword from the ground. “That man was no grandfather of mine,” you counter spitefully. “I’m glad that he got stabbed in the back, he deserved far worse. But perhaps I’ll save that for Daenerys.” You snicker.

Greyworm spins around and growls out of anger, only making you smirk as you meet his gaze with a taunting glare.

“I won’t fight you,” Greyworm quickly tells you without letting his anger get the best of him. “It won’t be a fair fight, and the Queen wants you alive.”

You lose your taunting look, and slowly begin to scowl at the man as you remain on your knees with the swords tip nailed against the ground, and the handle in your hand. The blood that was drying on your lips and chin only made your look more intimidating, but he still doesn’t flinch.

“Then you’re a coward,” you spat back. “It’s fine, it'll make this fight easier.” You breathe out and slowly begin to use the sword's weight to push yourself up to your feet.

Greyworm remains collected and actually throws his spear at your feet. You glance at it and sigh deeply in annoyance before you meet his gaze and kick the spear at him. You then raise your chin and point at him as you shift your feet to get in a battle ready stance.

Before he can once again turn you down you charge at him and swing the sword. Greyworm quickly blocks your attack with his blade and then manages to push you back. He then doesn’t falter or turn away, he swings at your stomach, but you slide back. He then counters with another swing, but you throw your head back and avoid the blade.

You proceed to swing at his legs, but he shuffles back and thrashes his arm to the side, letting you quickly throw your arms up and clash the blade against his. You proceed to meet his gaze and shoot him a smirk before you lift your leg and shove him back. You don’t lose your momentum and use all your strength to swing the blade across his chest.

Greyworm however catches your attempts and tries to block them, but in doing so he fails to clash the blade against yours, causing the Valyrian steel sword to cut his wooden spear in half and the tip to cut his cheek.

You’re shocked by your actions, but can’t help but smirk proudly. Whilst Greyworm touches his cut and looks at the coat of blood that stains his fingers, he then blinks and knits his eyebrows together as he looks up at you in surprise.

“<Lucky you,” you throw at him in high Valyrian as you begin to walk back. “You’ll meet your gods today.>” Once you reach the spot where you had fought the other soldiers, you pick up your spear and throw at his feet. “<Lets end this.>” You sneer and twist your blade around your hand.

A faint smirk appears on Greyworms lips before he picks up the spear and lunges forward and swings down. You quickly jump back to avoid being hit, and then counterattack. Greyworm albeit blocks your action and pushes you back.

“<Your ancestor should be proud,” Greyworm throws out in Valyrian as he spins the spear in his hand. “You’ve learned well. You make a mighty warrior.>

You huff out, and then charge at him. Just as you get close you jump off your feet and throw the sword down. Greyworm nevertheless avoids the blade and quickly counters by lunging the spear at your side.

Luckily you twist your body and miss being hit, and before he can pull back you turn your hand around and capture his handle.

Greyworm’s eyes snap at you in surprise, you shoot him a smirk and try to stab him, but he’s stronger than you now so he manages to yank the spear out of your hold.

And just as he steps back suddenly his body jerks up, and he lets out a groan. You falter and watch him in confusion, however you then see the cause of this sudden halt when you notice Ser Jaime on his knees behind Greyworm, and with Greyworm’s own broken spear stabbed through his own back.

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

So before Greyworm can react, you use both hands to hold the sword and charge at him. You lift the sword in your hand as you approach him, and the moment you get close enough you open your mouth to let out a mighty battle cry as you swing the sword across Greyworm’s neck. And since the blade is sharp and made out of the toughest steel, the blade cuts clean across, cutting his head right off his shoulders. Ending this battle, and causing Jaime to fall back.

You first make sure no one is approaching before you run to Jaime and cup his cheek. “Thank you, Ser Jaime,” you mumble. “You did well.”

Jaime’s eyes begin to flutter close, and his breath begins to slow down. He musters enough strength to grab your hand and add one more thing. “Thank you...” he trails off and his eyes close, his chest rises once more as he takes his final breath, and then it sinks for the last time.

——

*LATER*

The air wasn’t filled with battle cries anymore, there’s no cries of pain, or metal slinging. There’s no fire brightening up the sky red, there’s no dragons flying either. It’s not quiet or calm, but it seems that the battle had come to an end. Actually the castle people say is cursed doesn’t stand as tall as it once did moments ago, there are towers that are missing, walls are gone and turned to rubble and debris.

Where once stood a haunted mighty castle now remains crushed walls, and smoke.

It’s sort of fascinating, in a weird and creepy way.

“Halt right there!”

You rip your eyes away from the ruined castle and see Ser Brienne, Ser May and Ser Marizelizabeth come out of hiding from behind rubble to point their weapons at you.

“It’s okay—”

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne cuts you off right away and doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knee.

“Queen,” The others mutter and mirror their commander's action.

You bring the carriage to halt and offer them a nod. “At ease.”

However, neither of them rise.

“Forgive me your Grace,” Ser Brienne shares with her eyes on the ground. “I failed to keep you safe, they took you because of my incompetence. I understand if you want to remove me from my rank.”

You slide off the carriage and approach Ser Brienne. “It was not your fault. It was no one’s fault,” you assure her and touch her shoulder. “No one could have known. So please don’t blame yourselves, that’s an order.”

The three of them look at you, and Ser Brienne hesitates, but it was an order so she listens and doesn’t press on the matter, instead she and the others stand up and examine you.

“Ser May,” Ser Brienne orders over her shoulder after she caught the blood on your face and on your gown. “Fetch the maester.”

“Wait,” you call out before she can run off. “While you do fetch Jon too. I have something I need to show him.” You smile, but it falters. “He is fine right?”

Brienne nods. “Worried,” she assures you. “That’s all.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod with a happy grin painted on your face. “Good. Go then.”

Ser May runs off to go as she’s told, letting you now address the problems. “Catch me up,” you direct at the pair of knights as you turn to head to the back of the carriage.

“King Jon,” Ser Brienne doesn’t falter. “He came with an army of men when he heard of your disappearance. While Arya, Sarella, Ser Davos and Lord Royce led the battle on the ground, Jon fought Daenerys in the sky.”

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

“The battle didn’t last long,” she continues. “We lost some warriors, but they lost more.”

“Good,” you comment.

“It seems Daenerys was injured in battle after her dragon fell from the sky. That’s when the battle on the ground ended because her men retreated. Albeit not before Drogon lay waste on the castle.”

She was injured?

You swallow thickly and find yourself lost between feeling guilt and pride.

“Her dragon was hurt too, badly may I add,” Brienne adds, but you knew that, you saw that as you were chasing after Greyworm—“when they were retreating, King Jon, and your dragon….burned probably a third of her army.”

You blink in surprise and look over at her to share your disbelief. You don’t say anything, you’re just shocked he’d do something like that, especially that Eraxis would dare do something like that without your command.

“Is that all?” You probe and grab the door handles.

Ser Brienne nods, letting you sigh and look at the doors with a faint smile. “Ser Marielizabeth, if you may. May you please ride to the gates of Kings landing and…” you trail off to open the doors and pick up the sack that held Greyworm’s head. “Leave this at the gates for Daenerys,” you continue. “Make sure she gets it and then ride back to Sunspear.”

“Sunspear?” She queries.

You meet her gaze and nod. “Aye. A third of her army is gone, her Master of War is dead, she and her dragon are injured, we can’t return to Winterfell now that we have the advantage. We have to remain close to attack soon and end this war.” You grab the sack and give it to your knight. “Take care, alright?”

She nods and turns away to go get ready, letting you face Ser Brienne with a frown as you see her studying the body covered with a tarp.

“Ser Brienne,” you mutter and grab her hand. “I'm sorry. Ser Jaime….he…He’s passed.”

The tall woman knight drops her head and blinks repeatedly as you know grief and disbelief strikes her heart. She keeps her hand in your grasp and just swallows thickly before meeting your gaze with red eyes as she fought the need to cry.

“It would please me if you took his body and sword to his brother, you can grieve him as you please, and then go to Sunspear with the Hand.”

Brienne shakes her head. “No,” she argues. “I need to stay by your side, protect you. I can’t go, I’ll have someone else go. I can grieve him alone. By your side.”

You draw in a deep breath and hold her gaze for a second as you debate arguing with her. But it is her choice so you sigh and nod. “As you please. Have three Knights of the Queens guard take the body and sword so they can return with Lady Sansa.”

“Y/N?!” Your name is called out as you finish giving Ser Brienne an order, and when you snap your eyes past her body you spot Jon; his face is caked in blood, and his hair is down, he looks exhausted, but he’s a relief to see, he’s the very sun missing from the sky today.

“Jon,” you call out and break away from your spot to run to him.

Said man instantly meets you halfway without a fault and captures you an embrace. “Oh my love,” he whispers. “I was so worried,” he whispers as he holds the back of your head and hugs you tighter.

You laugh softly out of exciment, and pull back to kiss him over the dry blood. He deepens the kiss, and you linger in his taste for a moment before you pull back and grab his chin to study his face for any injuries.

“It’s not my blood,” he assures you and grabs your chin too as he sees the dry blood stained over your lips and chin.

“Not mine,” you mirror.

“Good,” he says and reaches for your belly that hasn’t gone down, but you grab his hand and grin at him. “Come with me. I need to introduce you to a pair of twins.”

Jon’s face quickly twists in confusion, but before he can ask, you pull him to the back of the carriage, and then inside where the cradle is. He’s hesitant to approach, he still looks puzzled, so you beam brighter and reach down to pick them up.

“Jon,” you whisper since Rhaenyra remains asleep, “meet Rhaenyra and your son.” You turn around to show them off, noticing that his eyes are locked on Rhaenyra fast asleep and the boy watching you. He looks surprised, but that slowly falls as the boy begins to complain and squirm.

Jon then approaches you and pulls the sheet down to see their faces.

“They’re okay,” you assure him. “Healthy. They’ve just lived an adventure now. Isn’t that right?” You ask the baby boy. “But you’re here now. With your mother and father.” You peek over at Jon and see that he carries a soft smile that matches his softened eyes that are welled with tears.

“May I hold them?” He asks and meets your gaze.

You giggle and nod. “Of course, my love. Here,” you whisper and carefully hand the twins to him.

Just as you’re going to pull your arms away, Jon stops you. “Wait, I don’t want to drop ‘em. Just—”

“Jon,” you cut him off softly. “It’s okay. You won’t. You won’t.” You very slowly pull your hands away, but keep them close for a second to let him know that he was okay. That they won’t just fall from his hands. “See. It’s okay.”

Jon scoffs, and then looks down at the twins with a lovestruck gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother when you were born. I’m sorry. I’m here now though, I’m never letting you leave my sight.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze with tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’re so beautiful. Rhaenrya, she has your hair.”

You nod and then rest your chin on his shoulder as you watch him with awe. “They both have your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your forehead. “You did good, my brave girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Forgive me.”

You shake your head, “there’s nothing to forgive, it’s not your fault. They’re here now, alive and healthy, that's all that matters.”

Jon licks his lips to get ready to argue, but then his name and yours is called out. “Jon? Y/N?!”

It’s Arya. Her footsteps race around the carriage, but once she reaches the back and sees Jon holding two bundles she stiffens and gasps.

Jon and you share a happy look before he motions her to come in. She hesitates but then jumps in and meets her niece and nephew.

“Look at them,” she whispers with awe as she reaches her finger for the boy's hand. “Hi. I’m Arya, your—” she cuts herself off and gasps as the baby boy holds her finger. “I’m your aunt,” she continues with a beaming smile. “Your best aunt.”

Jon laughs softly, and then shares a passing look with you before he looks at the twins and parts his lips to whisper. “Arya, meet Rhaenyra and Robb.” He smiles softly.

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

[edenfenixblogs]

A Note to Jumblr and my Jewish Followers:

Hey y’all! I see some of you tagging reblogs of my posts responding to antisemitic messages I receive with the tags Jewish Blocklist and Antisemitic/Antisemite Blocklist.

First of all, no shame there! Please feel free to keep doing this and whatever else you need to do to protect your own mental health as well as to your provide tips to our peers and allies about people worth steering clear of!

Second, I do not and will not have a Jewish Blocklist or an Antisemitic/Antisemite Blocklist. I hate blocking people I disagree with. I do try to live by the axiom: “We make peace with enemies, not friends.” And I do think that a lot (not all) of these people will, with the benefit of hindsight, be horrified at how they behaved during this time. Or at least ashamed of expressing such thoughts publicly. Some may be living with legitimate mental conditions like psychosis and mania that can absolutely lead to rigid and conspiracy-based thinking. None of this excuses violence or bigotry or antisemitism. And none of this invalidates your absolute right to block whoever you wish for any reason.

Which brings me to my third point: I don’t want to block people, because I want to track how they behave in the future. That could be four months from now. Six months. A year. Two years. Right now, the fighting between Israel and Palestine is active and brutal. Many antisemites are just using this flair up to justify their pre-existing antisemitic views. I doubt much will change for them. But many people had little to no awareness of the I/P conflict before the 10/7 attack and have been swept up in QAnon-like conspiracy theories. I don’t really expect them to address their hatred or how they allowed themselves to become radicalized extremists while the Hamas propaganda machine is still able to twist every development from the ongoing struggle to grow their support. But active warfare is unlikely to last an extremely long time. Tensions and hatred? Sure. That’s here to stay for a while, but official warfare and bombings from Israel are not likely to continue for years on end without stopping. (Hamas has been continuously bombing Israel for a long time and I expect them to continue even after a peace agreement is reached)

So when Israel’s assault ends, I’m sure the peace agreement reached will fall short of what Palestinians are hoping for and what I as a pro-Palestinian activist am hoping for. And I’m sure Palestinian civilians who endorse Hamas and those who do not endorse terrorism of any kind as well as Israelis and Jews who support Palestinian self determination will all be generally unhappy with whatever temporary solution is reached this time. No true, real progress will occur until everyone fighting over which “side” is “right” shifts their focus to instead cooperatively fight for peace for all.

But after the initial wave of anger and disappointment in the terms of the peace treaty are reached, people will go back to not caring at all about the lives of Israelis or Palestinians or Jews or even thinking about it at all on a regular basis.

And when that occurs, I want to revisit these blogs. When the tension is no longer at a constant rolling boil, I want to see how the worst antisemites I’ve encountered reconcile their behavior during this time with their behavior during peacetime. I want to see how the people who told me to kill myself or told me they wished for me and everyone I love to die in the “most painful way possible” feel about Jews when they aren’t hiding behind the idea of activism. I want to see how these people actually support Palestine when Gaza is no longer being bombed. I want to see how the antisemites relationships with the Jewish friends they claim to have recover or do not recover after the things these antisemites have said and done during a time of extreme danger and aggression toward Jews. I want to ask them if they still mean the things they said. I want to ask them if they have regrets. And most importantly I want to ask them how they plan to avoid causing harm to Jewish people and how they plan to learn about Jewish history and culture so that they can avoid antisemitism in the future when the poorly negotiated and doomed-to-fail peace agreement falls through next time. And I cannot do that if I block them.

So instead, if you want to block the people who have been most heinous to me, you will find them under the tag Antisemites To Remember.

I have had to block a few people from those tags when their continued hatred became too intense and continued even after I disengaged, but I have truly aimed to avoid blocking as many people as possible.

Hope this helps. Sending love and solidarity to you all.

[copepodkisser5000]

~INTRO TIME~

i go by Synth online. i probably count as a “tumblr old” (been here since 2011, and i’m even older than the source material my f/o comes from). i’m one of these 🏳️‍🌈. i do a lot of arts n crafts, and have commissions open. i’m bad at writing about me.

this is my main selfship sideblog- my main blog and the one i'll follow you from is @leadendeath, mostly furry-oriented but personal too, and if you want more general spunch.b0p-related goodness, i’m over at @1percentevil. if you already know me from those places, you are absolutely fine to follow/interact/whatever. i’m only joking when i call myself cringe or embarrassing :))) i’m unnecessarily self-conscious about every action i’ve ever done ever and i gotta get over it somehow.

This isn’t a faq, more like a “things you might be wondering about”:

“What does your url mean?” -the species plankton are called copepods. yay for having a pre-existing interest in marine bio. the 5000 doesn’t mean anything, i just thought it looks cool. and vaguely technological.

“Plankton is already married…” -anyone who loves Plankton, i also love by extension. That includes Karen! luckily i like computers and robots too very much :)

“So are you okay with sharing him?” -See above. Yes! He needs all the love.

“Anniversary?” -23/7/23. i already knew him from years back, but really reconnected with him when i heard a certain song… it was love at first listen. i’ve had few and far between f/os in the past, and every time it was the same “fall for them hard and fast” situation.

“F/O list?” -just the one guy is all i need. :)

Now here’s where i’ll infodump about my s/i…… eventually lol. When I get round to getting a few sketches I’ve done out of “WIP purgatory”, I’ll post about it under the #🦈 tag. I’m a shark, his best(/only…) customer, then shoulder to cry on, then we progress to more… lil dweeb latches on to the first guy who truly doesn’t consider him a loser. i could be talking about either of them there…

❗i now have a toyhouse page for it! backstory and more here❗

blinkie cred

One little thing which i've started putting on all my "about" pages: i've never stated what i would like people to tag for in all my time on tumblr, but i'm making a change for that now. Please tag #cats and #scars for me, i would appreciate it immensely. i'll tag for anything you'd like too! <3

[sunfyre-rider]

An independent, canon-divergent portrayal of Aegon II Targaryen, based on HBO series House of the Dragon

Memes | Headcanons | Open starters

Focus on the canon-divergent, guys!

This Aegon isn't and never was a bully. Kids can be mean, yes, but he would never make fun of his brother and get a pig for him to ride, instead, he would be anxiously waiting for Sunfyre to be able to carry them both, so Aemond could also fly with him. He may not be romanticaly in love with Helaena, but he do loves her, as he loves all his family. Somethings never change, though. He drinks a lot, sucks at studying and rulling (despite trying his best). Loves going to brothels and having his friends around. He has ADHD and can easily dissociate if the situation bores him.

There's one single rule around here: don't write your character having a pre-established relationship with mine, except for canon characters from the series. For ocs: plot with me first.

FYI: I love crack posts, if it bothers you, don't follow me, or filter the #crack tag.

Mun: Nancy, brazilian, 28yo, on tumblr since 2012

❝ I’ve always tried to be What you needed from me And along the way forgot who I am I’m sorry for getting cold For pushing you away It just feels like I’m falling and nobody’s there ❞

Modern playlist

[fallen-chances]

OC Tag Game

@stormbeyondreality tagged me in this and im!! :V eee yay I will also JUST be doing TES ocs or id have waaayy too many to choose from.

rules: sort your OCs into the below categories and (optionally) make them in this picrew. 

tagging: uhmmm @kagrenacs @crysdrawsthings @trinrose3 @nightlist if y'all want to (no pressure!)

1. Favorite OC

This is. a very hard one because it changes depending who I'm focusing on, but atm...

Featuring his new bangs of recent design :)

2. Newest OC

I haven't made a new TES OC in a VERY long time, but Azaril would be it. They lead the cult Massara used to be a member of. They have a very rocky, somewhat toxic relationship with one another.

3. Oldest OC

Aedia! Y'all know that John Mulaney bit about mean middle schoolers? That's her. Except she's highschool aged instead. She was my first solid TES OC, originally my LDB until I made Maelle. Now she's just my thief and Nightingale and the token small child of the group.

4. Meanest OC

It's hard to say because I don't often have to make mean ocs for TES, but I have just the one...

This picrew makes him look significantly less intimidating than he is. He's a quite old vampire (pre Tiber Septim) and is the major antagonist of the first act of an RP I'm in, trying to overthrow the new Lord of Volkihar castle (my friend's OC) and manipulate one of his newborn progeny (my oc Merriell) into being a puppet to destabilize the new Lord's rule.

5. Softest OC

It is without a doubt Maelle. Despite all her hardships, she remains loving and caring of all those around her. All she ever wants to do is help.

6. Most Aloof/Standoffish OC

It's easily Addarash, just simply from the POV of Ilenar (My Nerevarine) He was incredibly closed off to Ilenar, as a Velothi Dunmer he had no interest in an outlander being the savior from legends. But.... down the line after spending a lot of time with him, he ends up catching feelings and opens up to him, but he's still a bit aloof.

7. Dumbest (Affectionate) OC

Truly, he's my resident manlet himbo. Unironically. Falls head over heels without hesitation at the sight of Adal (big pretty lady..) He's not dumb, but he's certainly not the smartest of the group.

8. Smartest OC

Considering Ilenar was arrested and shipped to Vvardenfell for stealing books on magic, there's no competition for him to be marked as my smartest OC. He's a big ol' nerd. also incredibly hard to make in this picrew.

9. OC I would be best friends with

I thought on this one for a while and unfortunately it's a tie.

Merriell and I would bond well with the fact that. Well... I put a lot of myself in him. We would be very kindred spirits and bond well over shared experiences.

Rhene and I would get along simply because Rhene gets along with everyone. He's a sweetheart who hides his pain with jokes and goofs and just. I need to hug him fr.

[txxfiles]

give me all the fics where the boys kiss

Hi! It looks like I'm week 3!

I honestly have no idea idea what im doing really but i guess you'll just have to listen to me ramble about something i enjoy. Seems to fit the theme we've accidentally settled on and well! if theres one thing im good at rambling about its bl fanfiction. i read ALOT of fanfiction. like 13million words worth of it in 2023 alone (an estimate but i did the ugly math for jan and feb last year and id already read 2.7 million words so i dont think its too high an estimate).

ive read fics from too many fandoms to count and also have way more hyperfixations then any one person has a right too but the one that has owned my ass consistently for the last 4 years is The Untamed otherwise know as Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS).

The lovely Eucalyptus from week 2 was watching the untamed during covid (and holy shit what a wild ride that was) and the next thing I know im neck deep drowning in fan art and tiktok edits of beautiful chinese men that have no business being as talented as they are (Im looking at u Wang Yibo) This. shit. fucked. up. my. life.

then i turned to my good friend AO3 (love of my life i could not exist without you) and 4 years later ive read my tags dry. if its complete, ive read it. im getting desperate and ive started reading works in progress, yikes. its so risky i honestly cannot tell you how much anxiety it gives me. ive been burnt too many times.

HOWEVER

this does mean if you need a fic recommendation then your girl has got you covered, so i figured i would share with you my TOP SIX fic recommendations. im sorry i tried to make it 5 but i just couldnt do it.

I will be chasing a starlight by feyburner & sundiscus 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 71,479 words - Complete

Omg. Wangxian Startrek AU. The pining, the miscommunication. I felt every range of emotion on this roller-coaster. I literally printed this out so that I could keep it forever. I wish I could read it for the first time all over again. This Fic hit AO3 like a comet. It even has it’s own Tumblr thread! Also comes with stunning fanart.

Paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 53,808 words - Complete

Modern Day AU, Musician/Single dad Lan Wangji falls in love with his son’s Art Teacher Wei Wuxian. I swear it's one of the cutest stories ever written, makes me feel all the good things. A-yuan is adorable and wangxian are hot and charming. The Ultimate wangxian comfort fic. 

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller 

Jin Rulan & Wei Wuxian - 63,907 words - Complete

Jin Ling fishes his Da-Ju out of the gutter post canon (Literally dying alone in a dirty inn, Wei Wuxian it's been 5 minutes pls) and decides if no one else is gonna keep him then he damn well will. 

It is perfect.  

Junior Quartet goodness, Yunmeng bro reconciliation and Jin Ling being a boss bitch little shit that has no time for anyone's bullshit. I cried as much as Jin Ling did in this story – which is alot. (Also another story ive made myself a solid copy of that i can love forever)

Joy In The Mindst of These Things by Glitterbombshell 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 52,901 words - 5 Works

TEACHER WEI WUXIAN! I love this trope with my whole soul. Lots of adorable baby Lans, I would kill for them. Beautifully written. Lan Qiren gets a much needed wakeup call. Last story is incomplete but can be read without the 5th installment. SO WORTH IT, ive read it like 10 times

The One-Body Problem by mitisket 

Lan Jingyi & Wei Wuxian - 28,689 words - Complete

Well shit. How many times have a reread this story? I honestly couldn't tell you. Jingyi gets possessed by Wei Wuxian’s very tired soul pre canon and it changes nothing and yet everything. Their friendship gives me life and Jingyi fixes a lot of problems for his new bestie/mentor/uncle with his big mouth. Mom I love him 

The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 

Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji - 277,225 words - Complete

The best Zombie Apocalypse au on the MDZS tag honestly. There are so many good zombie film references in this one, i see you Train to Busan. Baby junior quartet, a perfect Wei Wuxian modern day depiction and so much love, angst and stress. It's delicious and I've never recovered.  

All of these fics are actually part of a mother document i made last week of all my favourite fics organised by tag because apparently thats what i do with my free time. hit me up if you need a rec!

Now that ive gotten that off my chest i'll let you be lol. maybe I'll do a rec for a different fandom next time. I definitely have enough to choose from!

Lots of Love,

Iris

[8-rae-rae-8]

To Save A Life - Chapter 5/?

Graves x Roach

No criticism allowed <3

Tags under the cut

Hurt/Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Roach has trouble talking, Graves knows how to save a life (shocking), Roach x Graves, takes place in 09, Task Force 141 as Family (Call of Duty), Author Has Never Played Call Of Duty, Quite a few people are dead already, I'm not killing them, preshadow company, Graves doesn't have his shadows yet, Young Philip Graves, Young Gary Roach Sanderson, Past Simon "Ghost" Riley/Gary "Roach" Sanderson, (that is only potentially I haven't decided yet), Graves is considerate and kind??, Coma, it's inaccurate though, Pre-Graves being evil, inaccurate coma, slow burn, disabled character, suicidal thoughts, references to depression, guns, shooting, dead characters, [Some may be added or changed]

[Start]

Nothing went smoothly since Graves' terrifying question.

He was repeatedly told it would be okay, as if that made everything suddenly better. As if it calmed his screaming mind, his aching body.

His healing was on hold. The stress became far too much, and he got much more locked in than before. Difficulty arose when he began having trouble opening his eyes again.

It seemed, to him, like his body was trying to shut itself down again. To preserve himself.

Of course it didn't work in that way. He couldn't let it.

He kept fighting. Even as everything felt like it was falling apart.

Graves came to visit less and less. But a guard was stationed with him. This guard, He was not part of the military, he was part of something else entirely. Unfortunately Roach didn't know what, but he could tell enough to know this fight was getting worse.

Shepard wanted him dead. The way he was watched over, and spoken to, confirmed that idea in his head. The windows got blacked out, by a new curtain and film. No one could see in, but they could see out. Protection.

It didn't take long for things to escalate once again.

Graves rushed into the room, after confirming his identity to his guard. A mask on his lower face, hiding himself. This was getting worse. His US military issues gear had been replaced with black versions. Roach noticed the guards wore the same sort of thing.

If he didn't trust Graves, he'd worry he'd be dying at his hands.

“We're getting you out of here. Threats increased. Shepard’s trying to make sure y'all” -meaning those who were left of his team- “can't get outta here.” So, Shepard didn't know he was with Graves still. What was this plan? How could he get out safely? He couldn't move his own head.

Somehow, still, Graves had figured this out. He whistled, some sort of cue… Roach's ears perked up painfully at the sound. He hadn't heard something like that in a while.

“It won't be comfortable.” The words confused him briefly, until he saw two men enter the room. Carrying what looked to be one of the plastic stretchers. His back wouldn't forgive him for that. There was no choice anyways.

With careful hands, Graves’ hands, he was disconnected from the machinery he was connected to. His body wasn't as stiff as he'd imagined. It was an easy task for Graves to lift him out of the hospital bed.

Easy for Graves, at least. Roach swore his eyes glossed over at the sudden and extreme pain of the burns and other wounds being touched.

“Open your eyes,” Came a rough order from the american. Certainly making sure Roach hadn't passed out.

It was tough, but his eyes opened. Forced open by himself. There was an audible sigh of relief, as he was slowly laid onto the stretcher. Just as cold and painful as imagined. Straps were situated to hold him in. To hold him still.

Even though it was brief, there was a slight relief after Graves had moved him. A soft confirmation that his joints did indeed still function as needed, and that his body wasn't utterly destroyed.

“We've got ya, keep breathing. Come on.” When did he stop breathing? It must've been the pain, the panic of the situation. He drew in a breath. Without an oxygen tube, it felt a little harder to get as much air as he needed. Graves sounded concerned for him.

There were a few steps before he realized he was being carried on the stretcher. All while Graves was at his side. Protected. He hoped he was protected.

“Package is secure, moving to the helo. Secure the base.” He heard Graves speak into the radio on his chest. Not military issued. From what he knew of Graves, he wasn't one to betray his country nor a superior. It seemed that was exactly what he was doing by helping Roach.

Was he the package? He had to be. The time from the SAS and the coma had dulled his memory and senses. He was confused, rightfully so.

“You’re doin’ great, Roach, come on.” The use of his callsign gave a calming chill to his body. A reminder to situation his mind. To calm himself. This was a mission now, it felt like it was.

The american briefly rested his hand atop Roach's forehead, never pausing the walk. They had to get where they needed to be.

“Breathe.” He told him, reminded him. Slowly, a mask was slipped onto his face. Similar to his old one, but this covered his nose too. They were protecting his identity to those around. He found it oddly kind.

Roach understood what he needed to do. All he needed to do was stay awake and focus on his breathing. A simple list. Everything else was taken care of.

Soon enough, the loud whirring of the helicopter was audible. They must have gotten to the top floor of the hospital quickly. Roach wasn't sure he remembered the walk.

Perhaps that was better.

Graves' crew all seemed tense, more than the average Roach had seen of any military men. This wasn't something they'd been cleared to do. But, judging by the looks the men gave each other and Graves, they must've all been close. Close like brothers, or friends. A close knit squad.

It was better than a loose and unraveled one.

“Load him up, strap him in. We can be at base by sunset.” It was a gentle order, from Graves. It was clear these men looked up to him, not just as their superior. It reminded him of his team, of Captain Price too.

He knew he was safe here.

It was only a few minutes before the helo lifted from the ground. Himself being carefully strapped in and held safely, while Graves got a seat next to him. His eyes carefully watching Roach.

And Roach did the same. Watching and observing. One of his strong suits.

“We're getting you back to base.” Graves said, as if Roach couldn't have heard the rest of the team chatting. He had a question, but he couldn't ask. Not that it wasn't obvious. Why him? Why save him?

“We can talk later, mkay?” Roach looked from side to side. Just his eyes. There was an attempt to mimic shaking his head.

Graves gave a tsk at him, almost playful.

“Told you we'll talk later, that's final. Close your eyes now.” At first his words were firm, orders. But concern seeped in quickly. Graves had never felt this kind of concern.

Roach wasn't in a state to disobey. His eyes closed slowly, after confirming his own safety by looking around. The whirring of the helicopter acting as a lullaby. Whisking him off to sleep.

Oddly comforting.

It was the same sound he heard when waking up. Only mixed with sharp sounds. Roach was too delirious, too groggy to make them out…

[End]

[bluey-frog]

OOC Notes

Hi guys, I’m the vulgar wrecker a.k.a. Rain. I’m addicted to my phone so best believe you’ll get a response, because I love everyone :). Also any new updates from me personally will be in a tag named called ‘shutuprain’ (like this one). Hopefully. Anyway, shut up and listen to the

Important irl business:

I’m not much irl, although I will be gone by next summer for.. army stuffs, but I’m not no weirdo about it. I’m only joining it because I feel I will mature from it, so don’t let that fact change your opinion about me. Also I’m 17, just so you know. Not that it’d surprise most of you reading this. I’m very open to all kinds of things, but the only thing that slightly triggers me is blood. I’m scared of it, it makes me curl up, and get anxious. I’ve had this issue since well FOREVER. Other than that, blatantly racist things for obvious reasons, and just anything mean for no reason. I also really find cuss words funny, so I don’t care if you cuss. Not a problem with me, and I’m new to tumblr. As of the time of this being posted it is my first time actually using the app. Anyway, my pronouns are he/him, but I’m not really strict with them so if you prefer to call me by any other she/her, they/them and the like I’m not opposed. Call me whatever you’d like :)

If I need to tell anymore about myself I might just add it in its own post, of course things may change.

OC’s below cut

The lovely characters!

Disclaimer: I find it better to be honest with you all when it comes to these two characters and the references they come from. Because both were originally contained having appearances of actual anime characters, I’m sorta unoriginal.. Indi came from a picture of Kokichi. And Raito comes from the “Wretched Egg” or Shiro from deadman wonderland, a anime I grew up with. So, yeah. Anyway, tweaks will also be explained, because of course they’re differentiated. Now I’ll shut up and get to it.

Name: Komichi “Indi” Yuzuki

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Occupation: Game Developer

Height: 5’1

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Purple

Sexuality: Bisexual with a male lead

Notes:

Often falls into depressive episodes, especially when in relation to his love life

Remarks about wishing he could drink his pain away

“ A wish?.. well, that’s easy. I wish for a new purpose in my life, some danger to spice it up. Or else.. what else will help me?..”

Tags for Indi table will be, ‘oocha’ and ‘icha’ because it’s funny to me.

Photo references for tha boy:

Links to picrew:

Name: Raito Sekkuma

Age: 22

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Occupation: Prison Guard

Height: 5’5

Hair: Snow White

Eye color: Blood Red

Sexuality: Straight (sometimes bi-curious if you’re charming enough)

Notes:

Very secretive on why she was fired from her job. Otherwise very social, and often doesn’t let things get to her

Makes a strange clicking sound sometimes, almost sounds like a soda can being opened. A “kscha!” kind of sound. Often occurs when she holds sadistic thoughts.

Seems to have a blurred vision or at least pretends to.

“A wish? What’re you? A genie..? I hate these stupid interviews. But, if I have to answer.. my wish would be to die.”

- (Not Raito) “…T-That’s it?.. ah, come on. That’s it? You don’t want a million dollars, to magically heal your body, or even a perfectly painless de-“

“Okay, okay! Fine. If you want specification.. take out ‘painless’ and you’ll have my wish. I’ll spell it out for you. A. Perfect. Death. Are we done here?”

Her tags are “raiooc” and “kscha” for ic.

Photos for tha girl:

Link to this new picrew: