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universestreasures · 10 months ago

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The Lockets (Drabble)

Expansion/Spin Off From This Thread With @shacchou (Hope you like this Ani <3)

The young boy didn't expect her to come, if he's being honest. Since Gozaboru Kaiba passed away, Mokuba had cut off all contact with Lady Suzuha. It wasn't because he was grieving over the abusive man. No, it was because his focus had...shifted. He didn't want her to see him like this, to see him do what he thought he had to in order to regain what he lost...

His big brother's love...

Now that the puzzle of his big brother's heart had been broken due to the Penalty Game he suffered at Yugi Muto's hands, and his brother left in a coma for weeks now, everything had shifted. Mokuba was starting to act like himself again, as if he too had been consumed by the demon of games just like his older brother for the last half of a year. That was why he reached out to, really, his closest friend, to one of the only good things that being adopted by his stepfather had given him. And thankfully, she responded and hurried over quickly, overwhelmed with concern and worry herself after having heard the news about his brother's condition.

The two were in one of the many living spaces inside the mansion, arts and craft supplies spread all over the massive table in the middle. The two children often did this activity when they met up, this time being no different. He had something specific in mind that he wanted to do, something that had his immediate focus as he worked diligently on his project.

"M-Mokuba, dear?" The voice of the young lady pulled the youngest Kaiba out of his focus, purple hues staring at hers that could be seen above her signature pink fan. "Are you sure...this is what you called me over for? I-I mean, making arts and crafts with you is certainly a delight and one I rather missed. However, considering...recent events, I...I thought...I thought you called me over so that you could...have a trusted ear to talk about what happened..."

Her inquiry causes him to freeze in place, almost dropping the rope he had been working with. He should have figured this would happen. His friend was rather perceptive, not that Mokuba was any good at hiding his emotions to begin with. Unlike his older brother, he wore his heart on his sleeve for all to see, and she had seen right through him.

"I...I..."

"It's alright if you'd rather not discuss it. I...I know things are hard for you as it is right now. I simply wanted to express my own thoughts. If you simply want my company as we make artistic creations together like we always do, then that is alright. I am here for you today. No one else."

"...Thanks, Suzuha." Mokuba gives her a weak smile. He appreciates her understanding. It was true he did want to talk about it, but...not right now. Not when he had something he needed to finish first and his own thoughts and feelings together.

The room is filled again with silence as the two return to their work. While he worked on his project, she seemed to be painting a tea set of some sort. Perhaps it was a gift for Lord Amanosuzu. If that was the case, then they both had a similar idea in terms of what the purpose of making their crafts was.

As soon as he is about to put the finishing touches on his twin creations, he looks up as he notices Suzuha had gotten out of her chair and was above his shoulder, examining his work closely. "My, my! These are quite lovely, Mokuba dear! Are these for...you and your brother?"

"That's the idea...but I'm not sure if he will-" His words are cut short by the gentle gloved hand of the older young lady being placed on his shoulder, Suzuha's reassuring smile providing a comfort he had been lacking in his life for so long now; the smile of someone who cared about him deeply.

"Of course, he will like it! No, he'll love it! It's a handmade gift from you, his dear little brother! What sibling wouldn't adore such a thing filled with one's true feelings of brotherly love?"

"L-Love...?"

The word sounded so foreign escaping his lips, as if it was the first time he'd ever heard such a concept. His brother had told him brotherly love was a waste, something that only held one back. Those words stuck with him, even as he desperately tried anything and everything to get it from the older Kaiba since his spiral. That's why he had doubted even doing this in the first place, but yet he persisted anyway, creating something with his whole heart that was broken into many pieces by the events that had transpired.

Seems like the more things change, the more they stay the same, huh?

Before he can continue his response, he and she are both directed to the door. It then opens, revealing both one of the mansion staff and someone that caused both Suzuha and Mokuba's eyes to widen in surprise.

"Master Mokuba, Sorry to interrupt, but Officer Ryuenji is here to see you."

"Hey. Sorry for dropping in like this. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright, Mokuba."

Before Mokuba can attempt to comment on the other's words, the ruby hues of the other focus on the other individual in the room. A hand goes over Tasuku chest as Mokuba watches him do a slight bow, like a prince would greeting a princess. "Lady Suzuha? Is that you? What a surprise! I did not expect to see you here today. I was not aware you and Mokuba knew each other."

"O-Oh! Y-Yes!" Mokuba's eyes widen just a bit at the sudden stammering in her voice, something he has never seen before from his friend. Suzuha whips out her fan, quickly covering the light blush forming in her cheeks with it. "We've been friends for years, T-Tasuku! Our fathers...were acquainted, and that's how we got introduced. My being here today is just one of many I've had with Mokuba dear over the years. I was not aware you were acquainted with him as well, but considering the celebrity that you are, I guess it's no surprise."

Mokuba and Tasuku both take a sigh of relief at her conclusion,both seemingly deciding to go along with it. Considering all the work Tasuku and the Buddy Police had done to keep the Death-T incident from going public, Suzuha becoming privy to it would put that in jeopardy. Not only that, Mokuba didn't want his friend to know his part of it, a part he felt like he had to do as a last-ditch effort to get the older Kaiba's attention at the time.

"Thanks for coming to check on me, Officer Ryuenji. I appreciate it."

"Please, just call me Tasuku. I think you and I are well acquainted enough to not speak so formally to one another."

Tasuku then took a seat, watching the two go back to their crafts as he did not want to intrude it seemed. It was a new thing for Mokuba to have 'friends over' like this, people who actively wanted to see him and were not trying to get anything out of him. It was...nice.

Was this...the feeling that comes from true friendship and unity with others? The very thing that Yugi seemed to have harnessed to beat his brother?

Mokuba then picks up the last part, the last piece, to his creation, the one item from the past he's treasured and preserved throughout the years. It was something he had clung to, a spark of hope he always held onto despite the darkness that came into his life. It was important to him, more than anyone including his brother, knew..until today that is.

"Mokuba? Is that...?" Tasuku questions, looking over along with Suzuha at the item the youngest in the room now held in his hands.

"Mhmm...It's an old picture of me and Seto before we were adopted by Gozaboru. We looked pretty different back then, huh?"

"You look the same to me, dear Mokuba. It is your brother who is the different one here. I..I have never seen Seto Kaiba...smile with such heart before. Not even during events we've both attended or any promotions I've seen. It's... polarizing, to put it mildly."

"Yeah...It was...a different time, a time before...all of this. That's why this picture is very dear to me, probably the most important thing I own now. And..."

Mokuba begins to do the unthinkable next, slowly starting to rip the photograph in two. His actions shock the other two in the room, both almost going to say something before he continues on and starts to place half of the picture into one of the lockets, precisely the half of the photograph he is featured in.

"I'm going to share it with him, share with Seto my most treasured memory, so that he will...come back to me someday."

Once he finishes the process with the other locket, the boy moves to leave the room, telling his guests he needs to do something. With that, he runs down the long corridors of the Kaiba Mansion, not stopping until he reaches the most guarded part of the house: his brother's chambers.

The maid moves aside to let him in, bringing Mokuba face-to-face with his brother for the first time in weeks. Just looking at him like this, in a coma and stuck in a wheelchair like a lifeless husk, pained him like nothing else. However, he pressed forward anyway, for he had something important to do.

"Big Brother...I...I don't know if you can hear me, but...I...I want to give you something, something to help guide you back to me...A piece of my heart..."

Mokuba then places one of the lockets he created, the one containing his own picture, around his brother's neck. He then puts the remaining one, the one containing Seto's picture, around his own neck, the boy then clenching it protectively like he was a dragon protecting a treasured gem. He can feel his heart start to ache and his body start to quake along with it, his emotions that he had been trying so hard to manage in order to stay strong finally taking over him.

Before he can realize it, his knees buckle, sending him down to the floor and his face into Seto's lap. Water flows from his eyes and land on the white fabric of his brother's clothing, his cries starting to echo throughout the mansion. His friends, immediately upon hearing it spring into action, both stopping in their tracks upon meeting the maid when having reached the entrance. The woman told them to leave the young master on his own for now, to allow him his feelings he's been holding in to come out freely without judgment.

"Mokuba..."

And so the two listened and waited outside the door as Mokuba's cries continued for what seemed like forever, the cries being some of the most painful they'd ever heard. Little did they knew that this was not even close to displaying the amount of anguish the young boy felt, an anguish that had been building up for years upon years that all just spilled over the second his brother went into that coma. For he had been through so much, seen so much, all since that fateful day that changed everything for him and his older brother...

"Seto...Come back...Come back to me...Big brother...I...I miss you...I...I need you...I need you here with me...I don't know who I am without you...So, please...Please I'm begging you...Come home soon..."

#💎 Crystalized Hidden Gems (Drabble)#💎 Vice Treasure (Mokuba Kaiba)#💎 Heiress Treasure (Suzuha Amanosuzu)#💎 Wonder Treasure (Tasuku Ryuenji)#💎 President With A Blue-Eyed Lighting (Shacchou)#💎 Vice's Monochromic Alternate Path (Mokuba Manga Verse)#💎 Heiress's Game Of Life (Suzuha Yu-Gi-Oh! DM Verse)#💎 Wonder's Game Of Life (Tasuku Yu-Gi-Oh! DM Verse)#tw long post #(Only Ani may reblog if she likes because it's connected to our thread <3 #(I've had my idea for this drabble this entire week but only today did i have time to actually write it out #(I had the idea to include this info in the thread proper at some point but it take away from the main focus of it #(So i said ill put it in a companion thing #(Also a good chance to help me flesh out mokubas friend group dynamic #(I did not intend for Tasuku to be here when i first thought of this idea but i thought it be cute so i added him #(ANYWAY I HOPE ANI AND ANYONE ELSE WHO TAKES THE TIME TO READ THIS MONSTER LIKES IT #(I THINK THIS IS MY LONGEST WRITING THING IN A WHILEEEE

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 2 months ago

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The Tiefling Bachelors Taking Care of Sick! Reader Getting Treatment

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts, finished months ago, but I guess I never posted it? Oh well, it’s here now!

No one asked for this but it came to me as I was getting infused the other day. I really wanted Zevlor to manifest out of thin air and hold my hand 😔. Anyway, without further ado… Here we go!

Characters: Dammon/Reader; Rolan/Reader; Zevlor/Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

TW: Brief discussions of illness, some fantasy medical talk

Dammon-

Dammon is probably the most fussy of the trio. He’s bumbling around the tent, ensuring you have enough blankets and water. Or do you want tea? Juice? Whatever it is, love, name it and he will fetch it for you.

He means to be helpful although his nervous waiting on you does create an air of anxiety in the room.

If he gets too manic, the healers have to send him out on an ‘errand’, so that he can collect his nerves and so you have time to yourself.

When he returns, Dammon is much calmer, having been cornered and given a pep talk by one of the elder tieflings or your companions outside.

He’ll sit across from you, and distract you by showing you his latest outlines/blueprints for swords and lathes and such.

If you’re particularly stressed, or truly not feeling well due to the side-effects of the treatment, he might even show you his jewelry designs. Dammon was, of course, planning to give them to you as a present after you’d finished your treatment, but in the meantime, he’d like you to keep them in mind to have something forward to look to.

If you’re sleepy, he’ll just stay at your side while you rest, sketching in his book or making idle chats with the healer.

Dammon excels at ‘parallel play’ kind of dates. He quite enjoys it when the two of you are each doing their respective thing within a shared space. He’s more than comfortable amusing himself while you just chill out right next to him.

Of course, before you leave, he asks the healers a million questions, scrambling down all their answers. How long will this last? What side effects should you look out for? What happens if things get worse? He wants to be prepared after they take their leave, and he sees it as his responsibility to take care of you as you recuperate.

He’s really so sweet, like a little puppy dog. He’s not always the most helpful, and he has a tendency to get in the way, but his efforts never fail to lift your spirits at the end of the day.

Rolan-

Rolan is such a stickler for being an oppositional brat all the time. He gives everyone around him whiplash by turning into the most overbearing parental figure. You’d think he’d been possessed if it wasn’t for that trademark smirk of his.

He’s constantly making you drink. No, he doesn’t care that you’re not thirsty, the healer said to stay hydrated throughout the process. And no, he doesn’t care that it means you have to get up to pee every 15 minutes. Urinary frequency is a small price to pay! Now be a good patient and drink your chamomile tea without any more complaining, yeah?

He watches the healers like a hawk, mentally recording their every word/move. He’s not a cleric or druid, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely naive to healing magic. He wants to make sure whatever spells or potions you’re being given are up to his standard.

And if the healing isn’t magical in nature... Oh boy, he’s going to be even more of a pill about it. He still hovers of course. But he also makes the occasional ‘helpful’ suggestion like: ‘I know a spell that could do that faster’, ‘Herbs are nothing compared to the power of the Weave’. The healers just roll their eyes and work around him.

If he gets really grouchy, you’re gonna have to put him in a time-out. If not for your sake, then for the poor healers who are just trying to do their job. Rolan argues for a moment, but ultimately agrees, leaving to gather himself.

When he comes back you can tell either Cal or Lia have spoken some sense into him, since he’s calmed down a bit. Rolan will sit with you, read to you, hold your hand if you beg ask, he might even perform a few tricks for you if you’re feeling up to it.

He ushers the healers away as soon as they're done, wanting to just be alone with you. He puts up a tough exterior, but deep down he’s afraid. He cares for you so much. You, Cal, and Lia are his family, he feels it's his job to protect you, but try as he might he cannot protect you from your illnesses, and that hurts him deeply.

You’ll need to comfort him once all this is all over. It’s as much an ordeal for him as it is for you.

Zevlor-

Zevlor is a worry-wart, bless his old paladin heart. His mind is always racing with endless possibilities- about the tieflings, about the grove, about you… It can be a lot for the commander to handle.

But because Zevlor is a paladin and former hellrider, he has a good amount of experience working under pressure. He knows how to keep a level head and act on what is good for those around him, unlike what seems easiest to accomplish.

He’s a very disciplined man, and he tries to get that discipline extended to you as you heal. He sets up a regime, for diet, exercise, and socializing catered especially to your needs and current abilities. He wants you to utilize this time to maximize your healing, and just let yourself trust that you are doing all you can to take care of yourself.

He trusts the healers implicitly, knowing their expertise is much better suited to you and your current priorities. He’ll cater his regime around their recommendations, taking into accommodation your current feelings/moods of course.

He writes out instructions for you to read while he’s away, busy tending to his duties. In the event he’s especially worried about watching over you, he’ll send Tilly or another one of his soldiers to check in on you periodically.

Zevlor would love nothing more than to spend the entire day with you, keeping you safe in his embrace, but he’s wise enough to understand that even amidst these kinds of things, life must go on. He cannot abandon his duties as leader and you cannot abandon your life.

Zevlor tries to maintain the status quo as best as possible, he doesn’t want your illness and treatments to entirely define your life, just as he wishes Elterel will not solely define his.

Once all is said and done, he comes to find you, a warm broth in his hands. He settles down next to you as you sip your meal slowly, his tail coiling around your waist keeping you close to him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, you don’t need to. It’s clear to you what’s in Zevlor’s heart.

The two of you just sit silently together, enjoying each other's company, as you brace yourselves for yet another new dawn.

I hope you enjoyed!

If you like my work, please consider Buying Me A Coffee!

And most importantly, please Like and REBLOG!

#zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #rolan x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 imagine #bg3 imagines #bg3 #hc #zevlor #rolan #dammon

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mentally-a-slut · 5 months ago

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Can I request "You deserve to be loved." For Astarion with female reader please? Please make it smut too!

Thanks so much for the request! I have been super ill, but I managed to get one thing done! I hope this is to your standards, this is my first time writing for Astarion so I hope it's not too out of character. I left Tav pretty neutral, so you should be able to imagine her as anyone. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Remember, please leave feedback! I love to hear your thoughts and it helps motivate me to keep writing.

Rating: E

Warnings: smut, piv sex, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, angst with happy ending, Astarion has a praise kink i don't make the rules, dom!Tav, kinda sub!Astarion, female Tav, likely ooc Astarion, not proofread

It was a calm night, the stillness of the camp blanketing over everyone as the stars glimmered in the darkening sky. Scratch lay idly by Shadowheart, eyes fluttering with the beginnings of sleep as the cleric's hand absentmindedly stroked his head.

Most everyone was already knocked out, the events of the day rendering them useless against the wave of sleep that washed over them. Tav was the only one that couldn't put her mind to rest, thoughts racing behind her eyes as she tried and failed to join her companions in their peaceful oblivion.

At least, she thought she was.

After an hour of fruitless attempts of rest, she abandoned her tent with an aggravated sigh, opting to get some fresh air. When she slipped out of the canvas walls, her eyes fell upon the gleaming silver hair of Astarion, restlessly sitting outside of his tent with his piercing gaze directed at the sky.

She knew that vampire spawn didn't exactly sleep, but Astarion usually went into a trance at night. He said it helped him feel energized in between feedings. A twinge of concern jolted through her, gaze softening as she approached the gloomy spawn.

"Astarion?"

His red eyes quickly cut towards her, his scrutiny heavy on her form.

"Are you alright?"

His gaze flickered with an unreadable emotion for a split second, too quick for her to discern. He hesitated before responding, the familiar too-sweet drawl coating his words. "Quite alright, now that you're here."

Tav's cheeks blazed with a poorly restrained blush at his charming words, and she averted her eyes to the ground between them. She heard his movements before she saw them, the soft brush of his feet brushing the dirt as he rose from his seat.

"I do so love when you blush, so pretty and red."

His cold finger trailed along her jaw, gently prompting her to direct her gaze back to his. She attempted to blink away her flustered state, instead focusing on the handsome elf's face. His sharp features were contorted into his familiar expression of mischief, dark red eyes upholding a look of desire.

Fighting the fog of attraction, she narrowed her eyes at him, searching his practiced expression. He was always a flirt, quick-witted and prone to making her blush, and yet something felt off about him. Something festered beneath his sweetened gaze, almost invisible behind the facade he upheld, but Tav caught a glimpse of it.

One glimpse was all it took for her to step away, brows furrowing as she created distance. His eyes flashed momentarily, a small crinkle of his brows the only sign of his confusion. "What's the matter, darling? Why so shy?"

He attempted to step closer to her, resulting in Tav taking a matching step back. She thought she saw a flicker of hurt before he steadied his expression. "Oh, I see. Don't want to cuddle up to a vampire?"

He turned away from her, already in the motion of retreating to his tent, when Tav shot out her hand and grabbed onto his arm. "That's not it."

He tilted his head to peer at her, teasing smirk already pulling at his lips. His flirtatious remark was cut short when Tav suddenly darted for his tent, hand still firm around his arm. He let her lead him, silver eyebrow raised in curiosity.

The cloth of the tent flaps had barely fallen shut when his cold hands met her waist, pressing her up to him in a way that had Tav's heart beating against her chest. "Eager, are we?"

His breath dusted her cheeks as he held her, seductive gaze steady on her beneath his lashes. Her eyes fought to flutter closed as he leaned in, lips just barely pausing before her lips.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her question was almost quiet enough to miss, but Astarion's grip loosened as he pulled away in shock. "What?"

Tav put a shaky hand to his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold him this close forever. "The flirting. The lingering touches. The stares. Why?"

Silvery brows furrowed, undead hands still idle at her waist. "I didn't take you to be dull. Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

His snark didn't go unnoticed, the same tone he took when someone tried to pry into his business too much. Tav's lips quirked downwards into a frown. "I know what desire looks like. The look you gave me back there was a decent imitation of it, but I saw through it. Why pine after me if you do not truly desire me?"

Tav tried not to let her disappointment show at his loss of touch as he dropped his hands from her waist and stepped back. "I don't know what you mean. I do desire you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest as she gave him a withering look. "I don't much like being lied to, Astarion. Nor do I like to be led on."

A flash of guilt crossed his eyes, almost quick enough to miss. "You're a clever one. Fine then, I confess. I needed safe passage to the city, and the only way to get it was to seduce you into providing it for me."

Her heart seized in her chest at his words, hurt and betrayal curdling in her stomach. "Do you truly think so little of me?"

His previously avoidant gaze shot towards her when her voice cracked with emotion. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

She struggled to keep her composure through her next words. "Seduction was not the only way. I would have aided you no matter what, romantic feeling or not. I do not need anything in return. I would have helped you. I would have- I do care for you. There are no strings attached unless you wish there to be."

She recoiled from his hand as it reached out towards her. Tears now steadily falling down her cheeks, she continued with shaky words. "And I will still help you, even though you have hurt me. Even though you have made me think there was something... I thought you liked me. I really thought we could have," she heaved a sob between her words, "Why did you have to make me fall in love with you?"

Her eyes avoided his, tears rushing down her face as she hung her head down. If he had a beating heart, he was sure it would be hammering against him.

"You... Love?"

She hid her face in her hands as she cried, granting him a small nod.

"Tav, I..."

"Don't. Just... I'm sorry for thinking you returned my feelings. I don't expect anything from you, and you're still welcome to stay with us."

She turned to leave, eyes burning with emotion, when his cold hand gripped her shoulder. She froze, holding her breathe in case any movement would scare him away.

"Tav, please don't go."

His voice was timid, a broken sort of tone that she could never dream of him carrying. She chance a movement, turning her head to peek at him. His eyes were watering, sincerity pooling in the blood red of his gaze.

"I... It wasn't fake."

A stuttered breath as Tav turned to face him, tear stained face contorted into an expression of dread, fearing he was playing a cruel joke on her. "What?"

"The feelings, the flirting... I admit, at first it was purely self-preservation, but..." he gently trailed his hand down from her shoulder to her wrist, "you... you enraptured me."

"Astarion, you don't have to-"

"I mean it. This isn't me trying to use you, I'm not just doing this as an apology, I truly mean it. I fell for you, and it terrifies me."

She turned her wrist in his grip, staring down at his hand as she maneuvered hers to fit against his. "You love me?"

She stepped forward, bringing a hesitant hand to his face. His brows furrowed as he nodded slightly, almost like it pained him to admit it. Slowly, she moved closer, giving him time to recoil. When he leaned in, she fluttered her eyes closed and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

His other hand went to her face, delicate fingers stroking her cheekbone as they kissed. There was no desperation, only gentle passion as they melded together, pouring all words unsaid into their embrace. When Tav pulled away, Astarion sighed and chased after her lips, only stopped by her firm hand on his chest.

"You don't need to do anything you don't want to do. I'm alright with not sleeping together. You don't owe me anything."

His pupils swallowed up the red of his eyes as he whined, true desire swirling in his gaze. "You saying that only makes me want you more."

Tav hummed in surprise as he pulled her lips back against his, fingers tangling in her hair as he hungrily devoured her lips. His free hand snaked around her, palm pressing firmly into her lower back and arching her into him. Tav sighed into him, pulling away from his lips to murmur, "are you sure?"

"Never been surer, darling."

She stopped his approach, giving him a sultry look as he pulled her even closer against him. "Alright, but we're doing this my way."

He raised a brow, his teasing smirk sending a jolt of arousal down her spine. "Oh, yeah? And what did you have in mind?"

She pressed a soft kiss against his lips, admiration flooding her eyes. "You let me do the work." She tutted against his lips as he started to protest. "Please, Astarion, let me take care of you. You deserve to be loved."

His resolve completely vanished at that, and he pulled her back for another desperate kiss. Tav's core burned with each sound from his lips, whines and moans vibrating against her lips. She pushed him towards his bedroll without breaking the kiss, giving a pleased hum when he obeyed.

She sank down with him, straddling his lap as he sat. His fingers fought with the hem of her shirt, insistently tugging as he whined against her lips. She smiled and pulled away, chuckling as he tried to chase her lips. "Use your words, love."

"You're a tease," he all but whined, hands still itching to rid her of her top.

She answered him with only a stern look, pulling his hands from her waist. He groaned in frustration, pride a little more than hurt as she coaxed him to obey. "Take it off. Please."

"Good boy," she teased, all too aware of the growing bulge her words caused. His hands wasted no time in exploring the skin of her exposed stomach as she peeled away her shirt, tossing it over her shoulder. He sat up to capture her lips, firm hands desperately trying to gain control.

His fingers dug into her waist as she rolled her hips down against his, eliciting a groan from him. She rolled her hips again, pressing harder against his prominent arousal. His hands frantically trailed across her skin, gripping her ass as she grinded once again.

Her core grew hotter as he moaned against her, and she pressed kissed down his jaw and neck as she began to tug at his shirt. She pulled back to look at him, holding back a moan as he rutted against her. "This okay?"

"Yes, yes, it's okay," he whined, breathless as he pressed himself between her legs. She discarded his shirt, continuing to press hot kisses down his neck and chest. She pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back to lay down. She held her hip up away from his, grinning at his frustrated groan.

"Be patient," she warned, trailing a finger down his torso and teasing the waistband of his pants.

His hand found the clasp of her bra, fingers restlessly fidgeting against it as he looked up at her for permission. She nodded with a smile, and his swift fingers released the garment within seconds. He groaned as her breasts were exposed, bringing a hand up to one and flicking a thumb across her nipple. She faltered for a moment, hips rutting down on his as his hands teased her chest. "So gorgeous, darling, perfect."

She felt silly for blushing at his words, the simple compliment turning her insides to jelly even as they were half naked. He smirked and pulled her down to him, pressing his tongue against her lips and sighing at the feel of her chest against his. Tav snaked a hand between them, delicate fingers brushing against his length. His responding moan send shivers down her spine, encouraging her to press her fingers against him harder.

He rutted against her hand, grabbing any part of her he could reach. He pulled away enough to whine out a "please," and Tav swiftly unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them off. His hardened length strained against his underwear, a growing damp spot evidence of his desire.

He whined as she pressed her palm against him, and he grabbed her wrist to still her movements. She glanced up at him, concern in her face. He panted, shifting involuntarily to try and gain friction. "As much as I love what your doing," he trailed his other hand up her thigh, coming to a stop at the waistband of her pants, "I want to taste you. Please."

Tav couldn't stop the whine that fell from her lips, his words sending an entire new wave of desire through her. She nodded, moving to help him remove her pants. Once she was fully bare above him, his eyes burned with lust as he stared at her glistening cunt. Tav didn't have any time to be insecure before his hands gripped her waist and tugged her up his body, settling her spread legs just above his lips.

He quirked a brow at her, silently asking permission. His breath tickled her folds, making her groan with her words. "Oh, fuck, yes."

His hands gripped her ass firmly as he pulled her core down against his lips, his tongue immediately flicking against her swollen clit and teasing her entrance. She threw her head back with a moan and tangled her fingers in his hair, involuntarily rutting against his mouth.

His tongue was quick, flitting between her clit and dipping into her core with precision. She half worried that she would suffocate him with her thighs before she remembered that he was undead.

Tav swore as his lips closed around her clit, sucking harshly and sending her eyes into the back of her head. Her muscles tensed as he lapped at her, core tightening as he brought her closer to the edge.

"Fuck, just like that! I'm gonna-"

He hummed against her, sending vibrations through her core and pushing her over the edge. He didn't pull away until came down from her high, tongue coaxing her through it.

With a sigh, Tav adjusted herself back to where she was, leaning down to kiss him and sighing when she tasted herself on his lips. "You taste delightful," he muttered between kisses.

His cock throbbed beneath the restraint of his underwear, and Tav couldn't help but roll her hips against him. "Don't tease me, darling."

She did it again, pulling back to look him in the eyes. "Do you want this?"

"More than anything."

She smiled at him, one of pure admiration, and then hastily rid him of his underwear. He sighed when her core brushed against his painfully hard cock, tightening his hold on her waist. She leaned down to peck him on the lips before lifting her hips, stroking him teasingly as she lined them up.

With one last look of confirmation, she pressed her cunt against his tip, her tight hole swallowing him torturously slow. His gaze was heavy on their joined bodies, fingers digging into her waist as he groaned.

The stretch was pleasant, brushing against her walls as she slowly lowered onto him. She sighed as her clit brushed against her pelvis, his cock now fully sheathed inside of her. She stilled for a moment, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

The movement shifted them slightly, making him groan against her lips. She smirked, lifting her hips slowly. With a hand on his chest to steady herself, she sent him a cheeky wink and sank back down. His eyes darted all over her body as she rode him, watching her tits bounce, staring as her cunt swallowed him up. "You feel so good, filling me up," she whined, thrusts getting faster.

His moans grew louder at her praise, hands pressing tighter against her hips and guiding her down against him. "Such a good boy, letting me ride you."

He sat up, pulling her against him and matching her thrusts. He whined, pressing sloppy kisses against her throat as he rutted into her. "Please, feels so good," he whined, fangs brushing the delicate skin of her neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pressing him into her neck.

"So, so good for me, such a good boy," she moaned, thrusts becoming rougher, "you wanna cum inside me?"

He groaned, cock twitching inside her as she tightened around him. "Please, please, so close, I'm so close-"

"Bite me," she whispered, "c'mon baby, cum inside me while you sink your teeth into my neck."

His orgasm crashed over him just as he sank his fangs into her, the sweet tang of her blood coaxing forward his release. She soon followed, moaning as he painted her walls and drank his fill.

He pulled away from her neck, pressing his lips against hers and smearing her blood into her mouth. She whined into the kiss, cunt clenching with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

He pulled back, eyes swimming with emotion as he studied her face, their sweating bodies clinging together. "I love you."

She smiled before kissing him softly. "I love you too."

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 1 year ago

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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before!#good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

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blacknedsoul-blog · 1 year ago

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The divorce of the White Raven was the chronicle of a foretold death

Now that the White Raven divorce officially begins tomorrow. I wanted to do a little review of why I've been looking forward to this moment for over 40 chapters and the delicious drama to come.

The chapters of Annabel and Lenore talking in the greenhouse are wonderful for many reasons, but mainly because they lay the groundwork for what the conflicts in their relationship will be from now on, simply put: these two just aren't on the same page.

Annabel wants to save them both, Lenore wants to save everyone.

Annabel calls Lenore "my favorite," "my darling," and "my petal"; Lenore understands "my companion animal" (and Annabel doesn't bother to clarify).

Lenore says they are friends; Annabel clearly knows they were a couple.

Annabel tries to kiss her goodbye on the lips; Lenore kisses her hand.

As the comic progresses -and especially with the last chapter released by the Freepass- the more fundamental root of this problem becomes more apparent: the White Raven don't really know each other, they think they do and, incidentally, insist on not listening to each other.

The Annabel Lenore Knows

The "disappointment rooms" are a Victorian myth (I say "myth" because there is no evidence that they were a widespread practice, although there are cases like Blanche Monnier's, they did not seem to be particularly common. But they exist in this comic, so they will be treated as real in this essay) were isolated rooms where a family member with a mental illness or physical deformity was kept isolated from the world, making him or her an outcast.

We don't know the real reasons why Annabel wanted to get close to Lenore (this scene make it clear that it was of her own free will, something Lenore knows), but anyway, this was extremely strange at the time, the kind of thing that could severely damage someone's reputation if it became public.

In other words, for Lenore, Annabel not only pulled her out of the spiral of madness she was in, made her feel alive again, and treated her like a person (something that hadn't happened since Theo's death); she also put her reputation on the line to get closer to "the crazy woman in the attic".

Add to that the fact that Annabel, like Lenore, is someone with an extremely protective personality, albeit in a much more subtle way: containing Lenore's outbursts by trying to distract her, complimenting her when she doubts herself, trying to give her a sense of purpose by asking her to write her a song, and automatically containing her own panic attack when she sees Lenore's horrified expression.

To Lenore, Annabel is someone who would rather destroy something that makes her happy and be hated than let Lenore suffer for her absence.

This is a gigantic contrast to the Annabel readers know, yes, the basics are there: she is seen to genuinely care about Prospero, and gratuitous violence against someone who cannot defend himself infuriates her. But Lenore does not dimension how Annabel's methods of survival (shaped by her trauma of not being heard, reasons why she machines her way through people) make her a Machiavellian, manipulative and cold-blooded person.

The last time Lenore saw Annabel in a situation where she could do nothing, she saw her give up. But readers know that this time, Annabel is willing to burn absolutely everything down to get them both out of it.

That is why the Duke affair takes her by surprise. Never mind that Annabel has said she's willing to destroy or trample anyone to get out of Nevermore. The Annabel Lenore knows would not be capable of that.

The Lenore Annabel knows

This part is more difficult to analyze, because unfortunately Annabel's memories are tied to big mysteries within the plot. On the plus side, this comic is excellent at dropping large amounts of information at the point of detail.

The most obvious: Annabel is carrying around the ring Lenore had when she burned down her house, in other words, "Leo's" charade worked so well that the two of them got engaged. In other words: Annabel has seen this woman burn down a family home (perhaps with servants inside), fake her own death, steal, take a continental trip, change her identity and pose as a man, all to save her from an arranged marriage.

A very "you and me against the world" situation. A scenario Lenore made possible by lying to basically everyone, even Annabel herself, who must have spent at least a few months believing Lenore was dead until "Leo" knocked on her door.

Add to that these two scenes: in the first, Annabel seems pretty convinced that Lenore has a good idea of what's going on here...

And in this one, Annabel thinks Lenore is doing this out of guilt.

Again, this is a huge contrast to the Lenore we readers have seen throughout the comic: a person who desperately wants to show others the affection and security that no one (except Theo and Annabel) has given her. A mix of a naturally vivacious and caring personality with traumas from which her need for control stems from anxiety and a terrible fear of abandonment.

In this light, Annabel putting Duke in danger to keep Montressor away from Lenore was something that was informed, known, and something that Lenore would agree with, because the Lenore she knows would be willing to sacrifice anything to achieve her goal.

In that sense, that scene is foreshadowing. Not only did Lenore trick her into using a memory that Annabel does not have, but it comes right after Annabel confidently says that "no one knows Lenore better than she does.

The masks

One of the most painful tragedies of the White Raven relationship (besides the fact that it ended with both of them dead) is that one of the two has had to wear a mask on both sides of it: Annabel pretending that this relationship isn't as deeply ingrained in her as it really is, and then Lenore doing the whole "Leo" thing to be "the perfect fiancé" in everyone else's eyes.

Their divorce is imminent because both of them (especially Annabel) are projecting onto the other the expectations they have that are a product of the few memories they have been able to recover, rather than really looking at the person in front of them.

I'm going to enjoy all the beautiful character development that comes from here on out, because they both have a lot of unpacking to do separately from this divorce arc. And, I hope that, when they can finally reconcile, we also get to see how, for the first time in the history of their relationship, Annabel and Lenore can actually see eye to eye.

#annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #nevermore webtoon #white raven #lennabel #divorce arc #Appreciate the quality of the damn captures #Took me forever to get them

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fairysluna · 2 years ago

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what should've been.

Aegon has always been in love with his loyal childhood companion, so when King Viserys proposed a betrothal between them, he's absolutely blissful with the idea, although his happiness wouldn't last long.

MASTERLIST | Epilogue

PAIRING — Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader.

TAGS/TW — friends to lovers, fluff, angst, death by illness, grief, cursing, teenage!aegon at the beginning, mentions of infertility, 'i hate everyone but you' trope.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — (2nd repost) small context, Aegon was named heir and reader is daughter of Lord Arryn who in this story is Maester of Law in the Small Council. this was a request, and ngl i loved this even tho it broke my heart... pls enjoy!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 7.6k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

Aegon's head was on her lap.

The girl was leaning back on the Weirwood tree while Aegon was listening to her reading. The book on her hand was about the Andals, and she looked genuinely interested in the lecture while Aegon couldn’t help but to follow the movement her lips did with every word she pronounced. It was hypnotizing, as if they were begging to be kissed by him.

While one of her hands was holding the old book, the other one was on his hair, stroking the strands of it with such delicacy and care that Aegon would have fallen asleep right there, but he forced his eyes to be open only to stare at her, and the flower that he had left in her hair a few minutes ago.

"... The Vale of Arryn is where is located the purest Andals' blood as it was the first place they reach in their arrival to Westeros, and where their invasion started-"

"So you are a pureblood then?" Aegon asked, teasingly interrupting her lecture. "I'm a pureblood too."

"Pureblood?" She repeated, closing the book and leaving it on the side. "What are you, a wolf?"

"I'm a dragon, love." He sat up and leaned forward, getting closer to her face. “The blood of Old Valyria runs in my veins, and the blood of the Andals runs in yours, perhaps we should mix them and make beautiful pureblood children." He teased her, moving his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner.

Lady Arryn laughed loudly at his antics, pushing him away by putting her hand against his chest. Aegon just smiled at her reaction, being mesmerized by the sound of her laughter. Her cheeks soon started blushing thanks to his shameless comment and he enjoyed the view, loving how she would get flustered whenever he said those kinds of things.

“I thought you did not wish for children.” She remembered him.

“Oh, I definitely don’t.” He shook his head, “But perhaps the process of making them would allow us to have some fun.”

The girl slapped the Prince’s arm, and he dropped his mouth, offended by the gesture.

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“You just slapped the arm of the heir!” He jokingly said, “I can cut your hands for it.”

"Why would you say such a foolish thing?" She spoke between chuckles.

"It's not a 'foolish thing', it's a proposal." He clarified, "You will be my wife someday, I’m telling you."

"You're too confident." She claimed, "Due to your queer family customs, you will probably get married to Helaena."

His smile vanished almost immediately. His horror face was such a sight; his eyes widened and his eyebrows frowned exaggeratedly while his upper lip curled up. It was a hilarious scene that had the Lady chuckling quietly.

"Don't speak too loud, the Gods might hear you." He warned. "You are giving them ideas to punish me."

"You should stop giving them reasons to punish you."

"I don't do that!" He said offended. The girl stared at him with a serious semblance. Aegon smirked, "What? Does loving you so deeply be considered a sin?"

He leaned forward once again, this time he managed to kiss her cheek. The girl looked down, trying to hide her embarrassed face. No matter how many times Aegon would make those comments towards her, no matter how many times he would kiss her not-so-far from her lips; she just could not stop reacting that way. It is as if her body was trying to publicly show her feelings towards the Prince.

“You are a fool, Aegon.” She whispered, feeling his closeness. “Now, step back before someone sees us.”

“Why?” He looked around, and then looked back at her. “There’s no one here and I’m comfortable.”

“My honor would be doubted if they see you this close to me.” She explained with a subtle smile, “Step back, now.”

“But I love admiring your beauty from this angle.” He muttered, getting closer and closer.

“Aegon…” She pledged, feeling her heart beating faster.

“If you wouldn’t want it, you would stop me.”

She could feel his breathing crashing against her lips, she could sense the waves of the sound of his sweet voice; she was weak, she was panting as soon as she realized that just one push would be enough to feel his lips against hers for the first time; just a tiny push, but she didn’t have the guts to do it, she was too scared.

His hand fell on her soft cheek, Aegon felt the warmth of it and smirked. Her eyes were glistening and he knew for sure that his were too. He was so close to her that he was able to smell the scent of her hair, so sweet and delicious.

“I want to kiss you.” He said, brushing his lips against hers.

“Do it-”

“Prince Aegon.” Said a male voice behind them, interrupting the moment abruptly. Suddenly all the magic was gone.

The Lady pushed him away once more, this time it took him by surprise making him roll over until he laid on his back against the grass. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly before looking at Ser Criston, who was curiously staring at the both of them. The poor girl was so flustered that she could not even look the guard in the face; she looked at the book in her hands instead.

“Lady Arryn.” He greeted, “The Queen wants to see you both.”

“Both?” She repeated, scandalized. “Why?”

“I’m afraid I’m only a messenger, my Lady.” Ser Criston replied, while offering his hand to her so she could stand up without problem.

“I was going to do that!” Aegon complained, but Ser Criston ignored him.

The both teens walked behind the guard with the white cloak in silence. Aegon would purposely brush his hand against hers only to make her smile; she would look at him with accomplice eyes in return for his silly action.

Once they arrived at the Council Room, Queen Alicent, King Viserys and Lord Arryn were waiting for them. Ser Criston bowed swiftly before going to a corner of the room. The three adults were showing serious semblances that put the teens into distress, unsure of what they would say.

“My King.” Lady Arryn said, bowing. “My Queen.” She repeated the action, and then she went to her father to whom she greeted with a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Why are we here?” Aegon asked.

“We have some important news we would like to share with you both.” King Viserys explained. “Please, be seated.”

They listened obediently, sitting right next to each other. Lady Arryn’s leg was jumping out of nervousness, thinking that someone might have seen all those times when Aegon tried to kiss her and she didn’t push him back, or that some maid could have started a rumor that put her honor in disgrace. She was tormenting herself with her ideas, getting more anxious by the second. Aegon noticed it, and he placed his hand over hers in order to calm her down a little. It worked.

“We all know how close you have been during your entire childhood and even now.” The King explained, “We also know that House Arryn has been loyal to our House since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, which is something I am truly grateful for.”

“We had a conversation during a Small Council meeting about your future as King.” Alicent spoke to his son, “And we have decided that it is time for you to marry with a good and decent Lady that could provide you with an heir.”

“And we have chosen you, Lady Arryn.” Viserys announced. The girl looked over the table to find her father smiling pleasantly, “Your father has just given us his blessing in this union and we are already getting the preparations for the wedding.”

“You’ll be married in a fortnight.” Said the Queen with a kind smile. “I hope this union makes you both equally happy.”

The girl could’t react at first, it felt like a dream. She has been in love with Aegon since she learned what it truly means to love someone; that thin, platinum haired boy has stolen her heart since they first met, and now she was getting married to him. To her Aegon.

Aegon was also so thrilled about the news that an incredulous smile formed on his face as soon as he heard the news. He looked at his mother and mouthed a subtle ‘thank you’ which made her smile. He was not used to getting what he wanted. He never did, actually. But this, the fact that he would get to spend the rest of his life with the girl he was deeply in love with, was more than enough for him.

He started to thank the Gods too for listening to his pledges, for giving him a chance to be happy. His heart was beating fast, and he didn’t know if it was because of the excitement or because he felt the eyes of his beloved on his face. He turned around and saw her softened haze and her sweet smile, it was impossible to ignore it.

“I told you.” Aegon said, “You will be my wife.”

Their wedding was beautiful. Lady Arryn wore a beautiful white gown with golden embroidery with the shape of pansies; her favorite flowers. Aegon's eyes were lost with her beauty that day, he could not believe his luck. Seeing her walking down the aisle with her father on her right arm and enormous bright smile on her face was enough for him to realize that he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

They were still too young to understand what marriage and forever truly mean, but they were excited to learn about those things together.

Aegon could not be separated from his wife during the whole night; he could not stop kissing her in front of everyone, for she was finally his. His sneaky hands were touching her body everytime they would go and dance in the middle of the whole; Alicent would send warning stares at her oldest son,but he would just ignore them, he was way too happy to even care about what she might say about his attitude. Besides, she was already his wife.

He forbade the bedding ceremony, claiming that the only man who deserves to see Lady Arryn naked is him. When the night arrived, she was too shy and nervous while Aegon was almost jumping with excitement. It was her first time, but not Aegon’s, and yet he felt as if he had never felt pleasure before, for there was no sensation in the world that could’ve been compared with what he felt once he saw her naked for the first time.

He was soft and caring, touching her with such delicacy that even he surprised himself with it. She was so soft, so beautiful and mesmerizing. Aegon saw himself as the luckiest man in the entire world because he would get to spend the rest of his life contemplating the beautiful woman he has as his wife.

Four years passed after their wedding night, and both were living through their twentieth name-day. Their love was still present, as strong as it ever was. Aegon was still smiling as a teenage boy everytime she would enter the room, and she would still blush when he whispered unholy comments in her ear. They were living in a paradise made only for them.

However, they hadn’t been able to conceive an heir yet.

At first, both of them were not enchanted with the idea of having a child, there was no rush either. King Viserys was still healthy, there was no war, no threats that might put their lives in danger, so they just decided to wait. Lady Arryn would drink her moontea in the mornings after spending the night together and wait until her time of the month would arrive.

Then, she started to show herself a bit more open about it, after she met her nephews and nieces on a trip to the Eyrie. Aegon and her were married for two and a half years when she started to have desires for motherhood, but she knew that even though she felt ready, Aegon did not feel the same. The pressure of inheriting the crown was too much already, too many responsibilities that would not let him live as freely as he wants; having a child would add another duty in his long list.

“Don’t hate me for it.” Aegon begged after explaining himself to her. “All I’m asking for is a few more years. We’ve been doing fine on our own, we can keep doing it for a couple years more.”

Lady Arryn looked at him with her haze softened, caressing his cheeks with her thumb in sweet movements that would relax his body. His eyes were looking down at her with worry, scared that she might get angry at him for not giving her what she wanted; but she only nodded, accepting his deal with a subtle smile.

“How could I ever hate you, my love?” She spoke softly. “I will wait, there’s no reason to hurry.” She shrugged, downplaying the matter. “Besides, we are both still young.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” He asked, insecureness was heard in his voice.

She cupped his chubby cheeks and brought him closer to her so she could kiss his lips in a tender way. Her lips were moving softly and slowly against his, while his hands positioned themselves on the curve of her hips.

“There is no reason to be mad, my love.” She clarified after she leaned back. “This family will also be yours. We both must be ready to start it, not just me.”

And that is what they did.

They were avoiding the constant questions of the Lords and Ladies that would grow curious by the absence of a child after three years of marriage. Aegon would not listen to those comments, but he would realize her reactions towards them; she would put on the fakest smile he had ever seen, and just shrug with a saddened look on her eyes. Even though Aegon did not worry about it, he eventually did.

In one of their trips to the Eyrie, Aegon saw his lady wife playing with her nephews while her nieces braided her hair. Her smile was so genuine and big that made him whole. He noticed how happy she was whenever she was around those children, and then he realized that his wife has always been so attentive, kind and loving towards him, she never pushed him to do something he did not want to do, not even when she wanted it so bad.

That is when he decided that it was time. He wanted to make her happy, to make himself worthy of her love, so he told her that he was ready. He wanted to give her a child.

However, the Gods did not seem to be so pleased with the idea, because after months of trying —and they definitely were trying—, she would not get pregnant.

Lady Arryn was starting to lose hope, feeling guilty about the situation. She married the King’s heir in order to give him an heir, and she was miserably failing in her duty as wife. Aegon consoled her one night when he found her crying beside the bed. Her eyes were closed, she was kneeling and her hands were intertwined; she was praying to the Mother.

“My love…” Aegon spoke up once he got into the room.

The girl looked up, her teary eyes were enough to break his heart. Her cheeks were glistening with the tears that had previously fallen down her face. Once she saw her beloved husband, she started crying loudly; he immediately kneeled beside her and hugged her tightly, comforting her in her pain.

“I’m so sorry, Aegon.” She whined in his ear. “I’ve tried, I swear it. I’ve been praying to the Mother but she refuses to listen.”

“Sh, sh.” He said while brushing her hair with his fingers. Hearing her voice so broken made him tear up too. He couldn’t handle seeing her in that way. “No need to apologize, my love. This is not your fault.”

“My womb is useless.” She said. “I haven’t been able to give you an heir. It is my duty and I couldn’t fulfill it.”

“Nonsense.” He whispered softly, cleaning the tears on her face and looking at her with a loving haze. “The Maester says we just need to keep trying.”

“He’s been saying it for months, Aegon.” Lady Arryn whined. “Nothing happens yet.”

“We just need to be patient.” Aegon tried to cheer her up. “Besides, it’s not like we are not enjoying the process, is it?”

She tried to smile, but she just couldn’t. The sorrow on her heart was too big, the thought of letting Aegon down was tortuous, heart breaking even. He had been such a loving and good husband, he deserved to be a good father too.

“I’ve failed you.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Don’t you ever say that again, y/n.” He warned. “You have never failed me. Never. Not even when I was a foolish boy.” He cupped her face and left a soft kiss on her lips. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive, and I love you.”

“I love you too.” She managed to say between sobs and sighs.

“You were praying now, right?” She nodded. “This is what we are going to do; we, together, are going to pray to the Mother, we are going to pledge a little of her compassion, and we are going to try again.” He held her hands, left soft kisses in them before positioning in a prayer position. “Go on, love.”

Her shaky voice was heard around the room while she started to sing the Mother’s hymn. Aegon closed his eyes and started to pledge. He was not a full believer, he would just pretend to be praying when his mother blesses the table before eating; but now he meant it. He put his whole heart out, offering the Gods thousands of things in exchange for a child for his beloved wife.

Six full moons later, there was still no positive outcome, and even though the Maester had given her hundreds of teas and infusions to make her more fertile, the results were the same. So Aegon decided to send her to the Vale in order to spend time with the small children of her brothers, thinking that the trip would cheer her up a bit, after so many months of not having good news. Aegon had to stay on King’s Landing in order to attend the Council Meetings, his father was starting to get older.

Lady Arryn was away for at least a month when she decided to come back in the arms of his beloved, who would escape in Sunfyre’s back to see her at least once a week. He just couldn’t stay away from her for so long.

When she arrived back in the Capital, Aegon ran into the main entrance with a big smile that soon faded away once he set his eyes on her. He had flown to see her a week ago, and she looked completely different from who he was looking at now. She could barely get out of the carriage by herself, and she fainted when she put her feet on the ground.

Aegon yelled in despair, asking for a Maester while he carried his wife all the way towards the room they shared. He was scared. Her face was paler, there were purple circles around her eyes and her skin was burning. He didn’t know what was going on with her, a few days ago she was just fine.

The Maester was quick enough to wake her up, but the fever was already putting signs of illness on her tired face. Aegon asked the old man a million times about the health of his wife, concerned, desperate and scared. Of course he didn’t have the answers to it yet.

“Is it a babe?” Aegon asked hurryingly. “Is she- is she finally pregnant?”

“My Prince, these are not symptoms of a healthy pregnancy.” The Maester informed, “I’m afraid I should send some letters to the Citadel in order to find out.”

“Well, then fucking do that!” He screamed in his face. “Why are you still waiting?!”

“Aegon…” A soft voice was heard, the man turned around to see his wife waking up and trying to stand up. “Aegon, my love.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He rushed to her side and soon grabbed her shaky hand. “What happened? Tell me, what do you feel?”

A maid walked towards her with a wet cloth and a bowl filled with cold water. Aegon grabbed those things and started to clean her face, trying to make the fever go away.

“We stopped to eat in a canteen on the way here.” She informed him, “The food was delicious.”

“Was it?” Aegon asked with a small smile on his lips, she nodded. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“A bit tired.” She said, “And thirsty.”

Aegon hurried to the nightstand and grabbed a cup to fill it with fresh and cold water. He helped her drink it, lifting her chin with two of his fingers and pouring the water inside her mouth.

“I guess we won’t be able to try for a baby tonight.” She lamented, jokingly. That made him chuckle.

“We can do that tomorrow night, there’s no hurry.” He leaned to kiss her forehead, feeling how sweaty and hot was her skin. “You must rest now.”

“Will you stay by my side?” She asked, closing her eyes once again.

“I will always, my love.”

He did as promised and never left her side. He was there, on a chair by her bed the entire day and the night that followed it. The maids would try to convince him to go and eat something, they promised him that she was in good hands, but he refused. He would not leave her, not like this.

Her father went to see her, Lord Arryn stroked her hair for a while before saying goodbye as he must travel to Essos in the name of the crown. He thought it wasn’t something serious, he thought that she would be fine within days, but Aegon knew that wasn’t the case. He knew from the beginning that something was wrong.

Alicent went to see her daughter in law, and she brought food for her son. He received it, thanked her for it, but he did not eat it. He was not hungry, he was not tired; he was worried. He had never seen anyone in that state, and something inside of him was telling him it was not normal.

The next day she woke up first. Her head was aching and her body was covered in chills making her shiver with the cold wind. Aegon’s hand was wrapped around hers, and she squeezed it three times to wake him up too. The silver haired man opened his eyes tiredly and soon a groan came out of his throat for the backache that was produced by the uncomfortable and hard chair. He stopped complaining as soon as he saw his wife’s eyes staring at him.

He yawned before giving her a sweet smile, kissing her hand and then her forehead. Her skin was still burning.

“Good morrow, my sun.” He greeted her, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Her voice sounded weak, but Aegon tried to ignore that. “Did you?”

“I didn’t.” He answered annoyed, “This is a fucking castle, how can it not have comfortable chairs around?”

She laugh weakly.

“You still have a fever, don’t you?” Aegon asked.

“I do, and I’m cold.” She complained.

“I know, my love.” He replied, “But the Maester says it’s not good to put so many blankets on you, your fever can go worse.”

“And what about my husband’s arms?” She asked teasingly. Aegon just smiled, “Did the Maester forbid that too?”

Aegon took his shirt out of his body and made his way on top of the thin white bed sheet that was covering the shivering body of his beloved. She quickly cuddled under his arms, and hid her face on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth. Aegon did not care about how sweaty her body was, he just cared about making her feel comfortable and safe. She fell asleep once again; the fever was consuming her body.

The Maester walked in a few minutes before and almost choked when he saw the scene. A scandalized grin took over his wrinkled face and looked at them with horror.

“Oh, no, my Prince!” He said, pulling Aegon’s arm and forcing him to get out of the bed.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He raised his voice, Lady Arryn woke up.

“My Prince, you should not be this close to you wife, she-”

“She’s my fucking wife, what did you expect?” He angrily protested.

“My Prince, whatever illness the Princess has, we are not sure whether it is contagious or not. We cannot put your health at risk.”

Aegon was about to yell again, his face was red with anger because the Maester had woken up his wife. His hands were turned into fists, ready to punch him in the face, but the sweet voice of his beloved spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Maester Orwyle.” She said lightly, “It was my suggestion, not the Prince’s.”

The Maester walked towards her and she tried to sit up but her arms were too frail to hold her weight, so she fell back onto the mattress. Aegon frowned, but she gave him a smile of reassurance.

“You still have a fever, Princess.” The Maester pointed out. “How is your body behaving? Have you got any chill sensation? Cold, shivers, or a headache perhaps?”

“All of them.” She answered with one breath.

The man took a weird looking tool and put it against her chest. He put his ear on it and asked everyone to be quiet. His eyes soon narrowed with worry, but he tried to downplay the situation by hiding his face from the Prince’s intense haze. His attempt failed.

“What?” Aegon asked harshly, “What happened, why would you make that face?”

“My Prince-”

“What is going on?” He insisted, “Fucking answer me!”

“The heartbeats sound a bit weak.” He explained, “Too slow and too soft for someone for her age.”

“Well, then fucking do something about it!”

“I’m going to prepare an infusion of herbs for the Princess, that might do well.” He said before leaving the room.

The two of them stayed alone in the room once again, Lady Arryn looked at her husband and stretched her arm so he could grab her hand. He did, and he kissed it, sitting on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed.

“Don’t be so mean to him, my love.” She said, “He is trying to help.”

“He’s the Grand Maester, if he cannot do his job then we must find another one that can.” She stared at him with a scolding gesture, Aegon sighed, rolling his eyes. “I want the best for you, if I have to travel all over the world to find something to make you feel better, then I will.”

“I’m going to be fine.” She assured him, “In a week I’ll be out of this bed and we can start trying for a child again.”

“Don’t stress your mind thinking about it.” He told her, shaking his head. “We’ve talked about this before; there’s no hurry.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’, my sun.” He interrupted her, “We need to focus on your health first.”

And she nodded, giving an end to the conversation.

Aegon wished to say his wife was getting better, but it was not the case at all. Everyday it seemed as if someone was sucking the life out of her body. She lost a lot of weight, Aegon was able to see her ribs marked on her chest; she barely ate anything, she did not have an appetite to satisfy. Everyday she would speak less too, and her voice would get breathy as if she was getting exhausted by just saying some words. Aegon then stopped making her answer, she would just nod, refuse or smile at him. It was better that way.

She didn’t have the strength to sit up either, so Aegon had to give her water with the help of a dropper. She would complain every time she swallowed, which alarmed him even more.

When Aegon thought he was going through the worst, a terrible thing happened. He was ranting about the Maester and how he hasn’t found a solution to her illness even though it has been days since she was in that state. He was furious, spitting words of rage and nuisance while his wife just looked at him with tired glossy eyes.

And then she started to cough.

At first, he did not pay too much attention to it, thinking that it was just that; a simple cough. But then, the white bed sheets were stained with small drops of blood. Aegon jumped out of the chair and helped her sit up while desperately calling for Maester Orwyle. She did not stop coughing, it was like she was choking on her own blood.

Aegon’s eyes widened in terror, and an exasperating sensation took over his body when he saw that no one was coming to help her. Where the fuck was everyone? He thought, while he was on the verge of tears. He almost ripped his throat apart while screaming and demanding the presence of the Maester, who minutes later walked inside the room and quickly approached the Princess who had just stopped coughing.

She had her eyes closed, and it seemed as if she was in pain with every breath she took.

The Maester gave her milk of the puppy just so she could stop complaining about the tortuous pain her weakened body was suffering, and once he was ready to leave Aegon grabbed his arm with a firm grip, his eyes were teary and filled with rage.

“What is going on with her?” He demanded an answer, his voice shaking. “Answer me!”

“We don’t know what is going on with her, my Prince.” He stuttered, “We have never seen a case like this before. The Citadel-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Citadel.” Aegon spat, “You need to tell me what is wrong with her, why is she not getting better? It’s been days!”

“I’ve tried every method I know.” He confessed, “It seemed as if her body is rejecting everything. I’m not sure if she will make it.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“My Prince, your lady wife state is alarming…” He spoke with care, as if she was walking between dragons. “She could not survive-”

Aegon grabbed him by his collar, making him gasp out of the impression. His nostrils expanded and he was breathing fast and hard, he was fuming.

“If my wife dies, you will die too.” He threatened him, “You must save her, I don’t care what you have to do, but you will save her.”

The old man left quickly, and again it was just him and his dying wife. Aegon felt tears running down his face. He hated seeing her like this, so weak and sick. He would see her eyes for glimpses of time, he would take the opportunity to see them whenever she would open them, and it was enough for him to notice how they were not as shiny as they usually were; they were drained, with so little life.

Alicent arrived in her room a few hours later, she saw his son grabbing her hand and the dried tears in his eyes. She walked closer to him and caressed his back in a motherly touch that made him shiver.

“What did the Maester say?” She asked worried.

“He doesn’t know what is going on.” Aegon replied with a shaky voice, proof that he had been crying. “He is an incompetent. How the fuck is he even a Maester if he doesn’t know how to heal people?”

“He’s trying his best.” Alicent consoled him, “He had sent multiple letters to the Citadel already, the answers might take too long to arrive.”

“But I need it now.” He muttered. “She is sick now, look at her!” He scalped, making Alicent flinch. “She is burning! The fever is killing her!”

“It is not, my child.” She said, in a failed attempt to calm him down. “Y/n will be fine… you just have to pray for her health and wellbeing. You won’t even notice and she’ll be healthy again.”

Then, Aegon broke. He stood up from his chair beside the bed and went to hug his mother, hiding his head on the crook of her neck and leaving traces of tears all over her green dress. Alicent hugged him back, stroking his hair and whispering words of consolation.

“I’m scared.” He confessed, whispering. “I can’t lose her, mother. I cannot live without her.”

“You will not lose her.” She said, “She will be fine.”

“She’s not getting better.” He pulled away and looked at his mother. “The Maester even told me, she is too weak already.”

“I’ve seen people living through worse and surviving.”

“You didn’t see what I saw.” He shook his head, “She was coughing blood, mother. Blood!” His lower lip trembled, making his voice sound unsteady. “She’s dying.”

Alicent held his hands, “We should pray together, wouldn’t you like that? Y/n is devoted to the Seven, perhaps this is what she would want.”

Aegon nodded and his mother gave a sweet kiss on his forehead before going at the end of the bed and grabbing their hands. He gave a glance to his wife, she was sleeping soundly, covered with the bedsheets and her hair was spreaded on her pillow. Aegon whined once he saw her poor state, and soon he forced himself to close his eyes and pray with his mother.

He begged them. He asked them to return her health in exchange for everything he had. He offered his title; he never wanted it in the first place, he offered his dragon; he could live without him but not without his wife, he even offered his own life because he knew hers was more worthy than his. She did not deserve to die so young, she was always so full of life, always smiling and laughing, so kind and thoughtful. If someone deserved to die it was him, not her; so he begged the gods to take him instead.

When the next morning came, he woke up in the same chair as always, covered in the same blanket and holding the same hand, but something was different. He could feel it.

He squeezed her hand three times as usual to wake her up, but she did not squeeze it back. Aegon frowned and tried again; the outcome was the same. He tried not to panic or have an early reaction, so she stood up and quickly sat on the bed, right beside her.

“My love?” He said softly, “My love, is time to wake up.” Aegon softly shook her body, yet there was no answer. “Please, my love, let me see those beautiful eyes. Wake up.”

Nothing. Not even a sigh.

Aegon grew desperate by the second and the tears soon started to gather in his eyes, knowing the meaning of this. He never gave up, he was still calling her and moving her body begging for her to react.

“Y/n, please, wake up.” He pledged once again, sobbing, “I need you to wake up, I need you, please! Please!”

His hand went to her hair to caress it, and he felt the coldness of her forehead. All these past days, her skin was burning, but now it was as cold as ice. Aegon widened his eyes and his hands cupped her face.

“No, no, no.” He muttered, sniffing and whimpering. “Please, don’t. Don’t leave, my love. Please wake up.” His tears fell on her pale face, and he sob loudly. “Y/n, my love, please!” He started to yell, “Don’t do this to me! Wake up!”

His shouting started to concern the guard outside the room, he entered and saw Aegon crying on top of his dead wife’s body, holding her head and stroking her hair while he was uncontrollably sobbing. The guard saw what was happening and he was quick to call the Queen and the Maester, who appeared in the room within minutes.

Alicent gasped once he saw the heartbreaking scene, and soon she started to cry too. Aegon was now holding her body while his face was buried on her chest. He never stopped crying and begging her to wake up. Soft ‘please’ were heard, he was whimpering pledged to her and the Gods, but neither seemed to listen.

“My Prince-”

“Don’t touch her!” He shouted at the Maester once he tried to put his hands on her. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Aegon,” Alicent walked towards him, rubbing his back and trying to not sound as if she was crying. “The Maester needs to do his job, please-”

“He killed her!” He accused him, “I will put your fucking useless head on a spike, you idiot cunt!”

“Aegon, that’s enough.” Alicent warned him, “You must let her go, please, my child.”

A group of Silent Sisters entered the room and Aegon’s whole body froze. The ladies started to walk towards the bed while Alicent was pulling him away from it. He started squirming under his mother’s arms, not wanting to be separated from his beloved.

Soon, two guards entered the room and grabbed his arms, forcing him to leave his wife.

“No! No!” He started to move harshly, trying to be set free. “Please, don’t take her! Please! Mother, please!”

“I’m so sorry, my child.” His mother answered.

Aegon saw how her face was covered with the white sheet, and how the Silent Sisters grabbed her body and took her out of the room, he was still fighting against the strong grips that were holding him back.

“Let me go! Please!” He begged again.

Once the Silent Sister left and the bed was empty, the guards let him go. He felt onto his knees, seeing the shape of his wife still marked on the mattress they used to share and the tears came back. His mother stood by his side, and he hugged her hips gripping the gown of her dress and moaning out of pain.

He lost her, the love of his life was gone and there was no one to blame. The Stranger looked back at him with a mocking face and took his wife, leaving him completely alone.

Hours later he found himself staring at her body being wrapped in bandages in order to realize the funeral. He had one bottle filled with wine in his hand, and a piece of bread in the other. He was stumbling because he was already drunk. The Silent Sisters were working, and Aegon was lost in his own grief, looking at the corpse of his wife.

He did not care if she was not a Targaryen, her funeral will be under the Old Valyrian traditions.

“Aegon, you should not be here.”

Aegon did not answer, he did not even bother to look at his mother who just arrived on his side.

“It’s bad luck to see the face of the dead, we cannot be here.” She warned.

He scoffed, taking a large sip from his bottle and then taking a bite from the piece of bread in his hand. He shrugged as if he did not care. And in some way, he didn’t.

“I don’t give a shit.” He muttered, “They have already taken everything from me. They may as well take me if they are merciful enough.”

“Don’t say those things.” Alicent said. She turned around to not look at the corpse anymore, facing his child whose eyes seemed to be stuck on her wife’s body. “Y/n would not like you to die.”

“And what do you know?” He asked mockingly, “You knew nothing about her. None of you did!”

“Aegon, please be quiet. The Gods-”

“Fuck the Gods.”

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“No, no. Fuck them.” He spat furiously, his eyes were a mixture of sadness and anger. “I begged them, mother. Me and y/n begged them for their mercy.” He started crying again, “When we wanted a child, we begged every fucking night to the Mother, to have a little of compassion towards us and give us the child that we deserved- that she deserved!” He sniffed, looking now at his mother. “Then I begged all of them for her life. And none of them heard me, none of them did!”

“My child…” She tried to hug him, but he took a step back.

“They made me believe that I was safe.” He muttered, “They made me meet her, love her and marry her. They gave me this happiness just so they can steal it away!”

He laughed, a bitter laugh that made Alicent sink in her place. Aegon took the last sip from his cup and threw the bottle away, not caring about the uproarious sound it would make once it fell onto the ground. Then, he turned to his mother once again.

“I couldn’t-” He sighed, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t even give her a child.” He scoffed, “It was all she ever wanted and I couldn’t give it to her.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Aegon.” She tried to console him once again.

“I have nothing left from her.” He said bitterly, “Not even a child that would help me to remember her face. Nothing at all.”

He threw the piece of bread in his hand on the floor, and he left for the gardens; the place where they were always gathered during their youth.

Aegon saw everything with nostalgic eyes filled with tears. His head was aching, his throat too. He had a watery nose thanks to the tears and his heart was feeling shattered. He looked around, finding the tree where they always used to read, the benches where Aegon used to sit down while Lady Arryn would braid his hair. Although the flowers were his breaking point.

He walked close to the small mauve pansies that she always loved. He would always steal one and put her on her hair every time they came to the gardens. She would blush and laugh nervously for the gesture, but he always ended up receiving a small kiss on his cheek for it. That’s why he always did it.

He took one and looked at it with attention, remembering the same petals on her white wedding gown during the happiest day in his life.

He couldn’t help but cry at the memory.

The day of the funeral Aegon did not speak with anyone. Lord Arryn and his other sons —y/n’s brothers— arrived within a week, and then everything was ready for the ceremony.

Sunfyre was in the hills, waiting for the signal of his rider to set fire on the wrapped body. They were all expecting for Aegon to give a speech, to say something about the wife he claimed to love so deeply, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too broke, too lost in his grief.

He had a small mauve pansy in his hand, Aemond had told him that it represented the lost love which gave a whole different meaning to it. Aegon heard the speech of his father in law, who was devastated for not taking her illness seriously and leaving her without his company on her last days. Aegon could hear the guilt in his voice, and he would be grateful that at least he was with her during her last breath.

When the time arrived, everyone went silent. Aegon had to pronounce the word, but instead he walked toward the body and stood beside them, letting himself cry in agony for his suffering. Minutes passed and he found himself staring at it for too long.

He took the flower and left it where her ear was supposed to be. This time, however, he did not feel her soft lips against his cheek.

“I will always love you, my sun.” He whispered before walking back to where the rest of the people were.

Aegon stood beside his mother, who rubbed his back in the instant he was close. He took a deep breath and saw the body one last time. He tried to imagine a life without her, without her smile and laughter, without her rosy cheeks and nervous muttering. He couldn’t. A life without her seemed almost impossible.

He imagined a future with her instead, and a thousand pictures would come to his mind. Her raising a child that would be as beautiful as her, her dancing with him on their children's name day, her having long conversations at night with him. He thought so easily about those things because that was what should’ve been; a long life by her side.

But now he was standing in front of everybody, crying and sighing with an agonizing pain on his chest. His voice refused to come out in the first two tries, but on the third, he cleared his throat and accepted his miserable future, without the woman he so deeply loved.

He took a deep breath, and finally said,

“Dracarys.”

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lavellane · 16 days ago

Text

ok i have avoided talking abt my datv thoughts but now ive finished and slept on it here it is. this is huge btw and really just a way to process my thoughts for my own peace of mind. and get out what i need to say. so yeah word salad below

2 disclaimers before i start. firstly i think im going to be SUPER blunt and clear about my thoughts on this post but then i will mostly be putting the matter to bed in my heart bc i am not someone who delights in being a hater nor do i take comfort in it. i will take from this the things i enjoyed and keep my distance from the rest. second disclaimer: ultimately i think i will still enjoy being a part of the fandom and seeing other people enjoy the game, because it will endear it to me and maybe take away the pain im feeling right now, so this isnt a long rant to make you feel bad about enjoying the game if you do like it! in fact quite the opposite. it comforts me that there are people who find value in the game and i hope in watching you play it i may be able to eventually be able to say the same

that being said . obviously i didnt like the game

which is an extremely difficult thing for me to say. i went into this game thinking "i will at the VERY least enjoy the game. not love it but at least like it. but im sure ill love it". it really is quite distressing for me that it didnt even really reach that bar for the most part. i TRIED to like it. i begged this game to give me ANY handhold at all that i could cling to, to forgive and like this game. i think the things i liked err more on the technical side. the graphics i loved, the character DESIGN was *fantastic*. the art. the pacing. the vague vision of what they were obviously nebulously aiming for. and honestly, i mostly enjoyed the main plot although i wish it had been more disciplined and constrained with the lore it was trying to expand on. act 3 was fantastic and naturally i am happy and fulfilled for the most part by the conclusion of solas's story, who i still believe was and is the best written "villain" of dragon age. sorry logang and meredith nation but i do still stand by this.

but thats really about it. as a disclaimer i am not an origins puritan or a da2 diehard or anything like that. i have loved (almost equally) EVERY single iteration of dragon age which has been released. i am one of the few people who sees equal value in inquisition and origins. i love them both so deeply. i couldnt pick between them.

for me what i love the MOST about dragon age - and which every single previous game has always nailed despite other flaws - is the characters. right under that is the world's capacity for introspection. and unfortunately nothing in this game provided that for me

regarding the characters: i do not care about a single one of them unfortunately. or at least i do not CARE about them the way that i have CARED about the other previous games companions. companions i would write banter about !!! just for fun when i was bored!!!! i would say my only exception is harding, but even then i care about her only because i care about her due to inquisition. overall i just found them all so ..... shallow. and devoid of any of the conflict or nuance or ethical quandries that make biowares stories so compelling - and sure, usually controversial! i would give ANYTHING for this game to have been controversial. for a unforgivable RO, or a problematic fave, or a cancelled wife. did bioware forget that their most beloved or at least enjoyed characters are people like anders, merrill, mordin solus, blackwall, sten, loghain, SOLAS??? i dont understand HOW they could have forgotten that, because solas is literally right there in game and handled (in my opinion as a fan) well. love him or hate him or dont care about him, he is such a hallmark of great bioware writing (in dai if nothing else) - characters who are not EASY to like. characters who are not SAFE to write and who WILL generate criticism from all sides because they are written boldly and unapologetically, strengthened by a foundation of consistent ideals, clear objectives and beautiful faults. characters that do not NEED you to like them, but instead invite you to engage with them critically. solas, even to someone who hates him, is nuanced and morally complex enough to muse and fight over for 10 whole years. hes IN this game, just as ethically murky as ever, but the morally grey hallmark of biowares writing really does kind of live and die with him alone. the rest of the companions feel like they barely made it out of their concept phase. what are lucanis's flaws??? genuinely asking. other than being a murderer who exists in an organization which buys and trains literal child slaves of course, but i'll get to that in a sec (because bioware sure as fuck didnt). um, i guess you could say hes broody?? and emmrich too. what actual flaws does he have?? he has a fear of death, as we're TOLD, but it does not really reflect in the overall convesations we have with him over the course of the game. mostly hes just.... a little bumbling i guess. bellara's flaw is being a scatterbrain. harding's is that shes..... angry??? but shes not???? fucking come on. i really felt the lack of actually being able to TALK to these people at the end of act 2, when i realized i still felt like i havent really MET any of them. and yet here rook is talking about found family and being a team. ok

and then there are the romances. which from my perspective - having romanced taash - and my friends who have romanced lucanis, neve and davrin..... WHAT romances. davrin's full romance is 20 minutes in a 30 PLUS HOUR GAME. solas had the least amount of content out of any companion in inquisition and was a last minute unintentional RO and still had like easily 50 minutes of content. so why did these romances feel like nothing. actually nothing. i was so excited for taash, but their romance straight up felt like neither rook nor taash even wanted to be there. i forgot they were technically together at certain points. zero chemistry. zero intimacy. all TELLING zero SHOWING. if you had told me that i would be saying these sorts of things about a writer like trick weekes a month ago i would call you fucking crazy to your face. i cannot reconcile that taash was written by the same person who wrote solas. i cannot reconcile that mary kirby - who wrote the fucking chant of light - wrote lucanis. its so dire. its devastating actually.

lastly i want to talk about my other point - bioware's famed emphasis on introspection and ethically quandries. again, i'm genuinely experiencing a sense of profound whiplash because when it comes solas's character you can still see it. its still there. they actually doubled down on making him worse than he was in trespasser which i LOVED and thought was so incredibly promising. they could have caved to solavellan fans and uwu-ified him but they didnt. thats great.

but where was that energy for literally anything else. everything has been defanged - even minrathous, the capital of the tevinter slave trade, does not even ADDRESS the elephant in the room of slavery. and i know because i played a shadow dragon. so tell me why i as a shadow dragon am happily allied with the crows, who solely exist to assassinate politicians and BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES AS CHILDREN AND TRAIN/TORTURE THEM TO MURDER. HELLO??????????? there is no commentary made about the mages/templars. there is no discussion of the treatment of the elves in the north or Anywhere. there is no discussion of why exactly blood magic is or isnt acceptable - they simply tell us its bad. all the theories of the last 10 years were answered with handwaved comments or bare bones codex entries that honestly stripped so much nuance away from so many things (the blight, my BELOVED) that i dont know how im going to go about fixing it or making it right in my head. the introspective nature of dragon age always went hand in hand with player choice, but there really WAS no choice in this game as so there IS no real capacity for other interpretations or schools of thought. it is so..........................bleak.

i think the thing that finally made it click in my head that this game had fundamentally let me down was the gloom howler quest. and i know im not alone on this. for those of you who dont know - the gloom howler, "isseya" was the protagonist of the dragon age novel "the last flight". i would HIGHLY recommend you read it, especially if you're an origins fan. super bleak, super political, not flashy at all in terms of magic. it was set 500 years pre origins, during the 3rd blight. isseya is very similar to characters like loghain and solas in a way - a richly complex, beautifully intricate, terribly thought provoking character who did HORRIFIC things for the most NOBLE reason you could imagine, under the most traumatic of circumstances. im tearing up just thinking about her story, and how the title "the LAST flight" foreshadowed that her story had a definitive, bittersweet, finite and peaceful ending.

and then this game did THAT to her. turned her into a grotesque caricature of what she was. stripping her of her nuance and her capacity for atonement or forgiveness. and once again, i do not fucking get it. she was obviously brought back because she is a parallel to the solas dilemma. so WHY is she not afforded the same opportunity for empathy that he is. why is bellara's brother not either. its insane. its literally insane. i cannot begin to imagine the oversight or laziness or WHATEVER IT WAS that occured to have this game turn out this way.

there are innumerable other problems with the game that im not going to get into because what ive said above is the main crux of my problem. introspective and character. those are all i really wanted from this game, and like..... i thought we would get that. because the game centered around solas. and i know people dislike his fans for very fair reasons, but i hope those who know me know that i enjoy him not because hes hot (he is though) but because he is terrible. i love him because they made a character who was TERRIBLE, and then gave you the task of using your head and refelcting on your own morality and values and deciding and arguing and meditating over whether he is worth loving anyway. to me, solas is the person i point to when i want to describe why i love dragon age. its complicated, its nuanced, it is terrible and wonderful and everything in between depending on the angle you look at it from. and so having the writer of a character like THAT in charge of the whole game filled me with hope and dissuaded so many of my fears for this game. but i was wrong apparently.

so now im left with a feeling akin to survivors guilt. genuinely. because at the VERY least, despite me saying all of these negative things, i at least finished the game crying happy tears and being overjoyed that my favourite character was handled well and got an ending i enjoyed. and yet that happiness *i* got to feel and that glimmer of good writing was paid for at the expense of literally everything else. i feel almost personally responsible in a way, which sucks. im sorry to all the people who did not enjoy or care about solas, im sorry that you really did get nothing out of this game. i hope we can all be comforted by the trilogy we have and will always have, and i hope we can all take what good parts we enjoyed out of veilguard and make peace with the rest

leaving this youtube comment my friend sent me which is unfortunately a summary of how i feel about the game as a whole.

#tay plays datv #datv #datv spoilers #datv critical #nobody needs to read this but fgdjkfgjk if you do #i hope it is clear that i write from a perspective of profound love for this series and all its characters.

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serve-corps · 4 months ago

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Haruhi x fem RICH reader

Haruhi's secret girlfriend snuck Haruhi out of school for a date <3 part 2 here part 2

The cross-dressing girl sighs as the so-called 'daddy' of the host club shrouds himself in a corner with mushrooms being his only trusty companions.

she deadpanned at the male as he kept complaining about how his precious daughter held such low standards as she confessed how she didn't care if those girls from that school, what was it called? oh yeah! Lobelia Girls' Academy; didn't care if they flirted with her and tried to persuade her to join their school instead.

basically, the prefect and most idolized pupil of that school was a massive lesbian. she had no issues with this, but her friends did. Tamaki was terrified of someone stealing his precious little girl from him.

welp. that ship's sailed. ¯\_( ͡❛ ͜ʖ ͡❛)_/¯ she's already got a girlfriend!

our poor Haruhi, (I'm sorry for the bad joke there) flipped open her phone impatiently as she had been doing for the past 2 hours whilst dealing with clients sat RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER.

our (little shit) Kyoya took notice of this and was jotting it down in his little rip-off death note and further analysed her uncharacteristic anxious behaviour.

oh? this was new....her eyes were flicking to the outside, more or so to the entrance.

every noise that sounded like footsteps made her snap her neck in their direction with wide eyes, her facial expressions weren't giving away anything about her emotions or thoughts.

Now, back to Haruhi. She was only slightly worried which is unusual of her, but if the host club was reacting like this to the thought of her going to a different school, how the fuck would they react to her girlfriend who's been with her since middle school.

things got a whole lot worse when her phone vibrated 20 seconds after she put it down, she snapped it open almost at Mach 20, hoping it was her most prized person. AND IT WAS! her lips twitched upwards a little but fell once more as she read her beloved's message.

"hi daffodil, ill pick u up an hpur early today! dont worry i got consent from dad dearest and he phoned the school bout some appointment (fakest shi-) "

"but do u want me to go to ur class and pixk u up or meet me bo the g8? gimmi the word gurl"

"lets make this date as long as possible, ur dad gave the rec spot, said it was "✨️fabulous!✨️". yeah. i could see the sparkles as he said it bro. "

Haruhi smiled as she read over the spammed texts, as soon as she finished reading one text, another popped up with a buzz, she smile widened a bit and her eyes softened as she read over them. she jumped as she remembered she had to fuckin reply of course.

"ok tea cake, ill meet you outside by the gate, try be quiet. also, turn auto correct back on <3"

she closed her phone expecting radio silence but as soon as it was back in her pocket it buzzed once more, sighing and smiling, she flipped it back open to see her lover's message in retaliation.

"AUGHK BUT YOU KEOW IT PISSEs ME OFF >:("

she chuckled at the ironicness and childishness, she could almost hear how she was whining in real life, a phantom voice. God she was making her schizophrenic.

another buzz and she looked at her screen, in calm a calm manner which flustered her,

"love you daffodil"

her cheeks dusted pink at the message, it was the little things that got her down bad, she shut her phone with a loud clap, shoving it into her pocket and she looked back at the club.

all eyes were on her, shit.

for starters, all the clients left about 10 minutes ago when her middle school sweetheart started messaging her, but none of the host club members left.

some were giving her weirded out looks, some were smirking at her knowingly and some were just seriously fucking confused.

the 2 smirking were Hikaru and surprisingly kyoya, the weirded out was Kaoru, and again, weirdly enough mori the remnants were the confused one's honey, and the one and only Tamaki.

she snapped out of her embarrassment and flusteredness, turning herself to face Kyoya.

"Kyoya Sempai, my dad arranged an appointment for me today so I'll be leaving an hour early. I'm sorry but can you move my duties to tomorrow?" she winced at her own question, knowing this was going to be added to her debt.

"hm... I'll just cut today's costs and add them to your debt Haruhi. a completely understandable deal as you're about to go fooling around, not to an appointment." his smirk grew as he cornered her verbally.

he's been onto her for a few weeks about this but he could never picture Haruhi being romantically attracted to anyone. he must have been wrong because she jumped at the remark as if she was caught red handed trying to eat some fancy tuna without the hosts noticing.

her phone buzzed again and she twitched faintly, but since the hosts were already looking at her, they noticed this time, kyoya already noticed the past few times but this was the fist time the whole gang saw it.

she flipped open her phone and turned around, hunching over her phone in secrecy as she felt as though her privacy was about to be deeply invaded.

she looked intently at her screen and it was a message from her oh so precious girlfriend.

"hey daffodil, I messaged u while I was driving b4 but I'm outside ur school now ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ"

Haruhi's eye twitched at the thought of her girlfriend texting while driving only to remember her car can do text to speech, she also has a slang filter on it, it's a digital car! wowie! que the eye-roll.

she snapped her phone shut, turning back to the group, she slowly inched her way backwards to the door subtly, and casually said to Kyoya,

"right you can think what you want but...! well i gotta get to this appointment because as a commoner i can't afford a cancelation fee from the doctor! HAHAHA." she awkwardly came up with excuses and conversation to distract them until her hand touched the door handle. She yanked it down and swung the door open,

"BYE!" she shouted; slamming the door behind her, leaving all the hosts stunned into silence. a shared glance among them.

the crossdressing bloke sprinted down the halls, despite never being the most athletic, this was the fastest she'd ever run, she even skidded a few times on corners! badass.

Once she got to the doors, she barged them open with her shoulder and continued to run down the steps leading out the door, she undid her blazer and tied it around her waist, loosening her tie until it came off. her footsteps thumping on the tiled floors rapidly as she heard Tamaki shout after her screaming "WAIT! HARUHI!!" she was halfway down the path at this point, the gravel making her almost fall a few times but she quickly picked herself back up again. some students male and female blushing at the 'boy' changing while running extremely quickly.

the sound of a car engine could be heard, she panicked and miraculously ran even faster, hearing multiple sets of gravelly footsteps behind her made her panic and alarmed as she was hoping to avoid any confrontation. She skidded as she turned the corner around the fence, to keep herself stable she placed a hand on the cement to make sure she didn't fall, leaning on it as she rounded the gate seeing a car that she recognized in the distance, (y/n)!

she ran down the pavement, running past people who were drawn to the car, accidentally running into a woman and Haruhi apologised profusely.

She ran towards a crowd of people. people who were looking, not because of Haruhi's rush. Even people on the street were looking. not at Haruhi. people were covering their ears, not because of Haruhi. people were taking pictures, not of Haruhi.

they saw something sleek that looked jaw-dropping, it was attracting attention, it looked amazing and even sounded amazing, let alone expensive.

a Gordon Murray T.33, in white and reflective silver, it was stunning.

Anyway, it was a convertible and the hood was up, a girl that was no older than 17 was casually sat in the driver's seat with (y/h/c) hair as she had the sun visor mirror down applying the finish touches of mascara.

the (y/h/c) girl turned in the direction of where she heard running and a out of breath Haruhi who looked like she was being chased by a tall black-haired male and a set of twins lacking behind.

immediately the girl in the driver's seat pressed a button and the hood of the car retracted back into the boot/trunk of the car, she applied a lip balm while this went on, she was calm yet her girlfriend was getting chased by a bunch of men. she didn't give two shits. she knew they wont be an issue.

Haruhi jumped over the car door into the passenger seat with a hop, skip and a fucking jump. panting like there was no tomorrow and like she ran around the country twice at the very least. she looked at her girlfriend in panic as she was still applying lip balm, not even turning on the car to get ready to drive off, it was still in stationary.

"(your nickname!)" Haruhi shouted in desperation.

the boys were getting scarily close to the car and her girlfriend was meant to be a mystery! they couldn't let them find out she had a girlfriend which they already did, but it'd be so much worse if they found out who it was!

if they get caught they're done for!

"aaugh..." Haruhi threw her head back as she shook her head, accepting her fate that not even her lover could save her from this fate.

just as she had that thought,

you popped and smacked your lips together a few times, making sure the lip balm was evenly coating your lips. you snapped the cap back on, putting it into the side door of the car with a neutral expression.

your face then changed to a focused look, you cracked your knuckles and put your hand on the gearshift.

then, shifted the gearstick to automatic mode and the lights turned on in the car, it revved loudly and people cheered at the sound while some kids covered their ears at the loudness. with as much power as you could muster up, you put your foot on the pedal and pressed it to the metal as hard as you could.

the tires spun a few times as you stayed stationary; wobbling a bit as the tired made a squeaking sound and left marks in the road, but then the car shot off into the road, zooming away from the school going straight to 60mph casually building speed to 90mph! your girlfriend put on her seatbelt then she sat up in the car and stuck her hands in the air with a massive smile. this is why she missed her lover. She made her feel free.

the boys that were chasing Haruhi were left in the dust, even more shocked than normal, not even Kyoya was expecting that as he slowly walked up to the boys who wasted their effort in chasing her down.

"hm..." the male with glasses hummed.

back to the lovely couple,

"so haruuu, how was school?" you asked casually as you lowered the speed as there was no way the boys were still on your ass, going the speed limit to make sure there were no issues.

your girlfriend sighed, "some girls from this other school just kept flirting with me, trying to persuade me to join their school and their host club. I'm so done with it" she said in her normal voice.

the car sped up a bit at that comment then slowed right back down with a jolt, making Haruhi lunge forward a bit and turn her head to her girlfriend who was a bit wide eyed, holding the steering wheel tightly.

you slowly turned your head to Haruhi, keeping your eyes on the road until your face was pointing at her, then your eyes left the road and met her own eyes that showed worry.

"huh?" was all you could say.

"Don't worry, I whispered to them I'm taken....they didn't take it well...they thought it was with another member of the host club...."

you stared at Haruhi for a bit until you both jumped at a long, loud honk which was directed at you as you were now going too slow in the middle lane, you turned your eyes back to the road and drove properly only to squeak out a question,

"Fujioka....are you ashamed of me?" your grip on the wheel was faltering only for your worries to be soothed when she replied.

"oh god no. you're like the best thing I have in my life, other than dad." she said, not showing a care in the world. her head leaning on her hand as she absentmindedly looked outside of the window, watching as we sped by some stationary cars and trees.

you sighed a breath of relief.

"I just don't want people trying to be friends with me to try and get to you, and I'm not even talking about money." she said with a sarcastic eye-roll.

your heart swarmed at the consideration Haruhi had for you, that was her way of trying to be protective.

"I love you..."

Haruhi jumped slightly while turning her face to you, her cheeks only faintly pink because she was caught off guard.

"what's with that all of a sudden?" she said questioning your motive, though the comment wasn't unwelcome at all.

you chuckle to yourself then mutter a 'Never mind', you slowly increased your speed as you have a set time you were meant to arrive at the place you were surprising Haruhi with.

"Just let me treat my amazing girlfriend to something that's also amazing" you huffed as you moved your hand from the gearstick and placed it on top of Haruhi's hand which was resting on her lap, you stroked her hand with your thumb, she smiled softly at this and flipped her hand over so she could intertwine her fingers with yours.

"you don't have to y'know?" she retorted while smiling gently at you, observing every detail about your face, hair, smile, eyes, all of you.

you would never think that Haruhi would be a romantic sap but here she is, head over heels for someone who was always her shoulder to cry on when her mother passed, when times were rough, (y/n) always made sure to comfort her, she was good at it too. one second she could be shivering in fear from a lightning storm and the next she's doubled over and laughing her lungs out of her chest.

"again, Daffodil. i want too. anyways! we're gunna head to Tapas Molecular Bar. its about 10 minuets away from where we are now." you said with a wink.

"oh okay- WAIT WHAT?!" Haruhi reacted panicked as she knew damn well that place was expensive.

"nonononono!- I wont be able to afford that!"

you cut her off by clasping your free hand over her mouth.

"daffodil. I'm doing this for you. you do realise this is my 'I'm sorry' present because I missed your birthday?" you said with a frown, still beating yourself up over not telling your parents you couldn't go with them to Russia for business and celebrated with your girlfriend instead. but luckily Haruhi's friends celebrated with her which you were grateful for.

when will your parents realise it's your company not theirs? they treat it like it's their money.

she leant back in the car seat, hitting her head on the headrest in the process. "but (y/n)-" "No buts!" you said with a grin, going around a roundabout and pulling up to a services area and parking.

Haruhi looked at you confused, weren't you meant to be going to a Michelin restaurant?

"love, in the nicest way possible, I think you'd feel a smidge embarrassed if you went to a food place in your uncomfortable uniform" You already knew her question and giggled at her face.

"you don't have to if you want-"

she sighed, cutting you off. "no I see your point. do you have any clothes- of course you do." she rolled her eyes and you wrapped your arm around her seat and grabbed something from the backseats. you pulled out a folded pair of flared black trousers and a flowy white long-sleeve shirt. fashionable and androgynous.

you left the car and went around it, you opened the door for her to step out; clothes in hand. you shut the door behind her and clicked your car key to lock it.

walking in was simple for Haruhi, not for you. people were trying to get you to go in their shops as you looked like you had money to spend. some men hit on you but you scowled at them with disgust and they got angry and pissed off. leaving you alone.

you walked Haru to the bathrooms and kept a watch for any creeps. 2 tried and failed only to leave the building with 5 more bruises than when they came into the building.

Haruhi left the bathroom in her new set of clothes and you wolf-whistled, looking her up and down, apologising immediately after.

she smiled at you and walked out of the automatic sliding entrance doors, you snapping out of it and chasing after her.

getting back in your car, you finish the rest of the drive towards the restaurant. it was quiet as it was a weekday.

Haruhi and yourself sat in a secluded and quiet corner, not very visible to the public, she tried to order the cheapest thing on the menu but you quickly ordered some for her, seafood and a glass of lemonade/lemon soda with exotic berry flavouring while you ordered some other fancy shit that you know tastes damn good with a light cocktail to wash it down. (they didn't ask for ID in this place because you had to be an adult to book and it's pay upfront. they don't care)

Conversations were had between the both of you, laughs were shared and you just fell deeper in love with your girlfriend with every second. it seemed like she was feeling the same with you. some jokes from middle school were brought up which made you both cackle like witches, some problems currently happening were brought to the table and solutions and condolence were shared.

soon enough, the date was over, sadly. the very kind waiter that you two had today placed the cheque in the centre of the table, expecting the bill to be split. you snatched it quickly before Haruhi put some money in, you wrote down the payment of ¥50,400 (£274.79, $348.76, or €405.10)

Haruhi was left with her hand reaching out to thin air going to grab the cheque before it got snatched with a shocked smile on her face, she didn't even see the price yet but she knew damn well the price was high. she'd pay for the tip at least-

"here, your tip ma'am" your soft voice said to the kind woman.

damn, you beat Haruhi to it. wait... that's a wad of cash! no way! that's more than 15%!

she felt herself die a little inside as you stood with the waiter thanking you profusely and bowing.

you grabbed Haruhi from her seat and rushed her to the car, once again opening the door for her, being a gentlewoman. you drove off back to her home, on the way, however, you forgot to buy dessert at the restaurant! shitballs!

you did some quick thinking and drove across a small stall along a road, pulling over to park somewhere quickly, you jumped out of the car, leaving Haruhi in and locking it. she just sat there confused as she watched you run away.

less than 5 minuets later, you were running back to the car with two large ice creams in your hands, you unlocked your car with difficulty and Haruhi rolled down a window and grabbed the both of them, you then sat in your car, clinking your ice creams with little smiles.

you gazed into her eyes as your hand didn't move, she started brutally attacking her ice cream like it owed her money, usually its the other way around.

she noticed you staring at her so she turned to you and tilted her head in confusion and innocence. you leaned over to her side of the seat and softly kissed her lips, her breath hitched and eyes widened only for her to melt like your ice cream. her lips were cold because of the sweet treat which largely contrasted yours as you hadn't even made a start on it yet. she was pushing you back a bit by pressing her lips firmly back onto yours, so you weren't leaning over her; straining your neck and you both enjoyed it.

you pulled away from her as her lips had warmed a bit and coincidently so did her cheeks, you smiled at your accomplishment at making her look more cute than normal, starting on your melting ice cream.

the silence was deafening for a minute or two, then both of you broke out into a fit of giggles, it always feels like your first time whenever you kiss her, I'm guessing it's the same for her but it just adds to the cuteness.

you finished your ice cream as it was basically liquid yet hers was still in her cone, you felt jealous. eyeing up her ice cream that was somehow by some miracle solid, you leaned your head on her shoulder, slowly shuffling your head closer and closer to her ice cream until she sighed and just put it in front of your mouth.

a bright look crossed your face as you stuck your tongue out and scooped a bit out of the cone. savouring the sweetness, you relax yourself back on her shoulder. She chuckled at what you thought was your pure stupidity. but to her; adorableness.

she turned her head to face you whilst your eyes were shut. they only opened once more when you felt her put her lips on your own, you let out a startled hum only for you to close your eyes again and place a hand on her cheek, now savouring her instead of the treat. this kiss lasted a long time, you were no where near complaining, you just remembered you had a deadline you had to bring your girlfriend home to. you shot up from her shoulder as well as her lips unfortunately and checked the time.

10 MINUETS TO GET HER BACK OR YOURE D E A D .

"shit! sorry Haru! i gotta get you back your dads gunna kill me!!!"

you started up the car and almost sped to her apartment, barely dodging a few tickets here and there but you made it in one piece. you parked your car and opened the door for your beautiful soulmate and held her hand, walking her up the stairs.

just as you got to the door, you noticed something. of course it wouldn't be a classic date if you got ice cream and you didn't clear ice cream off her face., you rolled your eyes at the cliché antics of how the world worked.

in the illuminated hallway Infront of her door, you said "Haruhi, don't move please"

you leaned down and pecked the side of her mouth, clearing away the remaining ice cream. she looked at you with wide eyes and then pouted at you.

"oh c'mon...how could you miss?" she retorted with sarcasm, you were confused so this time it was your turn to tilt your head in questioning, only for her to grab your cheek and go on her tippy toes to plant the softest peck onto your lips, your face turns red at the display of affection as you were very under prepared for that, your mind was scrambled as she rubbed your cheek and chuckled, she tuned away towards her door and yanked down the handle, shouting a " DAD! I'm hoommee!!"

she walked through the door, giving you a wink before she got glomped by her father and closed the door on impact.

you strode back to your car and headed for the location called home which was all your property by the way, your parents just claim it's theirs despite the fact you paid for it.

as soon as you left, you were unaware of the group watching you drop her off back home, most were left stunned for multiple reasons, for the fact Haruhi was so happy for once, it seemed genuine. she seemed different, she managed to get someone romantically and finally, someone was crying because his "daughter" was no longer pure.

despite how hard he tried, kyoya couldn't find out a single thing about you...the only one who matched your description was the self-made billionaire child prodigy who originated from the United Kingdom and travelled globally for work, named (y/n) (l/n). there was no way....she could shut all of their companies down as a host club and their parents in one collaboration... how did Haruhi get with someone like her?

your thoughts on your drive home and for the rest of the night were, 'how in the hell did I get with someone as great as Haruhi?...'

part 2 here part 2

THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE GIVE ME SOME RECOMMENDATIONS!

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osleeplessflowero · 6 months ago

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It's been long enough, time to bring back some content for this series. I hope you all enjoy! (Also yay new lily divider! Gonna start putting these around my notes from now on :] credits are in the tags!)

*Notes - Reader Soultype: Bravery🧡 - Reader Gender: Ambiguous, They/Them pronouns by default - Horror goes by Sans - Context from the first two parts is needed for this one to make sense - Words: 3,906

☕Previous Part☕ 🎃First Part 🪓Oneshot Masterpost/List 💜💙 In-Progress Fics Masterpost/List💚💛

Content Warning: Swearing, Violence, Light Blood

A while passed since your coffee meetup with Sans. You've been texting each other pretty much daily, discussing this and that and getting a good laugh out of each other from time to time. He's been really supportive of you since your emotions from your breakup had started hitting you like a truck, bringing your spirits back up when they started to spiral. You really appreciate him for that..

At the moment, you're currently sitting in your living room and replying to the last message your skeleton companion sent you. The two of you had been having a long conversation about something obscure he found, before the topic shifted to meeting his brother, like you'd asked about when you went to go get coffee. Upon being informed, Sans said he was delighted at the idea, and wanted to invite you over for dinner. You eagerly accepted, but not without saying you'd want to bring something over as well.. call it a gift exchange. Perhaps dessert would be best, since he's really looking forward to making dinner.

Thing is, you have no idea what this guy likes, so you don't know how well your decision making could be..

i mean i could just go to the store with you if you need help picking it aint like i have shit to do

You perk up at his reply, grinning. That's perfect! If anybody would know what he likes, it'd be him. And it's an excuse to hang out a little earlier than expected.

sounds awesome, where should we meet? i could just come pick you up tho idk if ur comfortable with me knowing where u live i mean its not like youd be coming over to kidnap me lmao i dont mind sent attachment sick ok i think i know where that is ill be there in a few alrrr i'll get ready then

You hop up from your seat on the couch, walking into your room and picking out some warm clothes so you're comfortable outside. The air has definitely gotten more and more chilly after Halloween, and you're not quite sure if you like that sensation or not.

Hopping a bit to pull on your shoes, you hear your doorbell ring and drop your leg to walk over and look through the peephole. Sure enough, you're met with the skeleton waiting with a bored expression before you open the door.

"Hey! Wow, I didn't think you'd get here so quick." You muse, earning a chuckle from the skeleton as you step aside to let him in out of the cold. Can skeletons feel temperatures? You assume not because of the lack of skin.

He puts his hands in his pockets as he enters, watching you close the door behind him. "i took a shortcut, didn't take long at all. nice place."

"Thanks, it's nothing big, but it's home. That's all that matters, right?" You smile, walking to your bathroom and heading inside to fix your hair how you like it (if you have any, that is.) You leave the door open, glancing over briefly when he stands in the doorway to speak with you.

"yeah, doesn't matter what size. home's a home, anyway." His eyelight drifts around as he inspects what he can see, learning a little bit more about you from observing some of your favorite things. You give him a smile before exiting the bathroom, walking over to the front door to hold it open for him. He follows you out silently, and the two of you begin your walk down the street.

"So..does he like any particular kinds of desserts? Cakes, cookies, brownies, etcetera.. throw me a bone here." You hold up your phone and open your notes app so you can get an idea of what to look for.

"well, anything made from the heart's gonna appeal to him right off the bat. but if you wanna go for something he'll really like.. he loves sugar cookies. like the kind with icing, he eats those up when i get 'em." He smiles, thinking back to a memory. You nod, saving "sugar cookies" to your phone. If you're gonna bake, then it's gotta be something he'd love! That's one way to win him over.

"Sugar cookies it is! Any specific kind of frosting flavor?"

There's a pause. You wait patiently, but when Sans' reply never comes, you look up at his face. His eyes have gone blank, almost like he'd shut down.

"Sans? Are you alright?"

"just..hang on, i..i know it's in there. i know i can remember that, i know i can." He speaks softly, and you frown, stopping in place and stopping him as well.

"Hey. Don't worry if you can't remember. I'll figure something out, don't strain yourself. It's okay, Sans." You reach your hands up, placing them on his shoulders with a reassuring smile. His eyelight slowly reforms in his eye, warbling a bit before returning to its usual large shape.

"..okay. thanks."

You nod, leading the big skeleton along until you finally reach your destination: the grocery store. A nostalgic song plays as you both hear the doors slide open, granting you both access. Thankfully not too many people are inside at the moment, which gives you more room to look and gives Sans a bit more peace.

Seeing as you probably won't need a bunch of ingredients, you settle for a basket and begin walking to look for the baking section. Sans simply walks right beside you, ignoring any stares from other people inside.

"Okay, sugar cookies..I need a box with a mix..I'm not getting the frozen ones, I just wanna make these myself. I could get some red icing maybe, like strawberry? Or cherry? Is there cherry icing? I'm sure there is." You mutter to yourself as you walk, unaware of Sans' fond smile as he watches you talk, making sure to pay attention in case you ask him something out of the blue.

"I could make cute little patterns on them- ooor I could just cover them..I dunno, we'll see how I feel when the baking starts." You smile, reaching your hand up to try and grab a box of the mix you need, but frown when you can't reach it. Gonna need a step stool..

Sans leans a little over you from behind, putting a hand on your shoulder and reaching up to grab the box for you. You smile up at him, thanking him promptly as he shrugs it off. You should ask him to shop with you more often, it'd definitely be easier than climbing the shelves. You used to do that when you were younger, and had gotten caught a few times..well, you won't get caught again!

You look through some different cookie cutters, debating cutting the cookies into shapes, and if so, what shapes in particular to use. Your peace is interrupted when you hear quiet whispering a good distance away, furrowing your brows when you overhear what some people are saying.

Sans tries to pretend not to notice, but you can tell it's really starting to bother him..

You hold out your arm. He looks at you with confusion, raising a browbone.

"Take my arm in yours." You whisper, earning even more confusion. "C'mon, just do it!"

He holds out his arm slightly, and you take that as a cue to wrap yours around it, walking with him down another aisle. When you walk beside the few whispering, you glare daggers at them before looking over some different cookie cutters that are much more to your liking, wondering why they hadn't put them where you were. Poor organization..

Sans keeps his skull turned away, a mix of a blue and red flush covering his cheekbones as he avoids looking at your face. You don't seem to notice, which he's admittedly a bit thankful for.

"Okay! I think that's all that I-"

You hear your name being called, stopping mid sentence. Your eyes quickly dart over to the source, spotting him..

Your Ex.

Your grip tightens on Sans' arm. He snaps back to reality, looking between you and them before realizing. You glare at him as he approaches.

"So. One day you just ditch me out of the blue and now you're hanging out with monster trash. Man, I didn't think you'd stoop that low."

"Shut up. Nobody cares what you have to say. You're the only one who's trash here. Just leave me alone, and get out of my life."

"Woah, easy." He holds up his hands in mock defense. "Got me shaking in my boots, babe! So scary.."

"Yeah, still scared after we spooked the shit out of you in the haunted house?" You tilt your head, a sly smile on your face. His face darkens, and his brows furrow.

"Whatever- Look, you-"

"I just want you to leave me alone. The only reason you finally want to spend time with me now is because I'm gone. You had your chance with me, and now I'm spending my time with way better people. We are through, we will always be through, so leave me be."

"You really think a monster is better than me? You're kidding yourself! Just.. look at him. He's probably an actual axe murdere-"

You move before you can think, punching him square in the nose and watching him stumble. It isn't until you see his blood on your hand and his widened eyes that you realize what you just did, quickly ushering Sans away and pulling him to the checkout section. You have what you need, time to get out of here.

It's quiet as you pay, before you both leave the store. Sans tugs a little on your hand, so you stop, facing him as you calm your breathing down.

"..you okay?" He sounds a little worried.

"Yeah. I'm..I'm alright, now. Are.. you okay?"

"you just punched a guy for me." He states, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Well, yeah. I hate him and he was being a jerk, of course I did. Nobody messes with the people I care about." You grab some napkins from the bag, wiping away your ex's blood as you both make your way across the street.

Sans bumps your hand with his, so you unclench your fingers, allowing him to hold it. ..He's..never done that before. That's new.

Heat rises to your face, and you pray to anyone above that it doesn't show. That's all you need right now.

You enter your home, turning on the lights. "Just go wherever, my house is your house and all that jazz. I'm gonna wear something for baking." You smile, walking to your room. He gives you a thumbs up before you go, sitting down on your couch and covering his face with his hands.

Stars, feelings are complicated. You just made his soul do a somersault twice in a row without even meaning to. It's not fair, why does he have to feel so- conflicted?! He moves his hands down, groaning before taking a deep breath as you walk back in.

"Okay. You wanna bake with me?" You smile innocently, completely unaware of the rollercoaster looping around in his skull. He nods, walking into the kitchen after you, simply watching as you grab an apron and set the oven up for baking.

Several seconds of ingredient hunting later, you set everything out on the counter and get to work. Crack the eggs, add some butter, throw in some oil.. mix. You move around like a robot, earning an amused chuckle from the skeleton as he sits on the same counter to watch you, sending some ingredients over when you need them using magic.

Once you have the cookie dough mixed up properly, you smack his hand away once with a spatula to make sure he doesn't try and snatch any up. Your focus then shifts to the icing, making a bit of a mess as you stir. A bit of it lands on your face that you don't seem to notice, but a certain someone with you does.

"hey, c'mere." He slides off the counter with ease, making you stop in your tracks. He holds his hand up to your cheek, resting his thumb over a small bit of icing. He pauses for a moment, the two of you staring into each other's eyes. Heat rushes to both of your faces, his cheekbones erupting in a blue and red mixed blush as he raises his thumb to his mouth, allowing his mixed tongue to lick away the icing in question.

Oh. Oh man.

You avert your eyes when he does, focusing back on the icing. That's new. A lot of things are new today.

The tension eventually fades out once the cookies have been brought out, now cut into lovely different shapes Sans is sure Papyrus will love. He shares a few stories he can remember from the past, you happily listening along and sometimes replying with witty comebacks to his jokes.

Time flies, and finally the cookies are finished, ready to eat! You almost feel kinda bad that these'll be gone soon..but it'll be worth it if he likes them! You hang up your apron, grinning slyly when you turn back to Sans. He raises a browbone in your direction, when you place a small bit of icing on his nose. He laughs, a determined glint to his eye as he tries to get some of the leftover stuff on you, the two of you chasing each other around the kitchen before you erupt into laughter.

He looks up from the floor at you, and his breath hitches. You have a really nice smile..he should tell you that some time. Not yet, though. No..it's too soon for that.

You grin, licking any leftover icing on you and walking to your room to change into the clothes you'd set out previously for when you go with Sans back to his house. Alright, first impressions are everything! Gotta look nice for the occasion.

Sans stares at the ceiling for a little bit while he waits for you, trying to remember some obscure TV show he watched once as a child with his brother he just can't seem to put a name on. You eventually walk back into the room, determined and ready to go. You walk into the kitchen and grab the lovely bowl of cookies you baked, holding it under your arm.

"So, shall we walk?" You smile as he walks up to you, but then raise a brow in confusion when he shakes his head. Maybe he'd prefer driving? You didn't see a car outside, though..

"i know a faster way to get there, if you're okay with it."

"Sure. What is it?"

"hold my arm for a sec. you might feel kinda dizzy for a little bit." He offers his arm to you, and you accept it quickly.

"OkaaAAAY-" You panic when the ground disappears from beneath your feet, holding onto him tightly and squeezing your eyes shut. It is only when you're back on the ground that you open them, glancing around. ..You appear to be in someone's driveway, someone who owns a very lovely home.

"aaaand we're here. tada." He grins, letting you regain your balance. How did he do that? When did he learn he could do that? Why did he not tell you he could do that befo- that's how he got to your house so fast. Of course. A "shortcut".

"You're really amazing, Sans." You smile up at him, chuckling a little to yourself when he looks away. He leads you up the porch steps to the front door, knocking in a rhythmic pattern and waiting for a moment before it swings abruptly open.

"AH! Brother, There You Are!" The much-taller-than-you'd-expected skeleton exclaims, pushing up his glasses a bit so he can see better. "And You've Brought The Human Along With You! Excellent! I've Just Gotten Started On Tonight's Dinner. Do Come Inside! It's Certainly Much Warmer Than It Is Out There. Sans, You Both Didn't Walk, Did You? It's Easy For Humans To Get Colds!"

You both smile at his rambling as Sans reassures him that he used a shortcut to get here. He's a total contrast to his brother, a ball of energy to counter his brother's overall tired and "lazy" demeanor.

Papyrus gestures for you to walk in, you both promptly remove your shoes at the door when you see that there are a few pairs of boots there already. You can assume literally all of them belong to Papyrus, because Sans is usually either wearing slippers or sneakers.

"Ah! Where Are My Manners." He clasps his gloved hands together, grinning down at you. "I Am The Great Papyrus! I'm Certain My Brother Has Told You About Me Already." He grins, his braces shining when the light of the ceiling fan above him hits them.

You smile, moving one of your arms to hold it out to shake his hand, watching him eagerly grab it. "It's nice to meet you in person, Papyrus." You tell him your name, and he makes sure to remember it for next time.

"Sans told me you were really looking forward to making dinner tonight, sooo I thought I'd bake some cookies! We can have them after dinner's over with, and you guys can keep them for a while until you run out. And if you like them, well..I'd be more than happy to make some more."

Papyrus gasps, putting a hand where his heart would be, as if he'd been struck right through it. "Oh, That's So Kind Of You! And Fitting For The Occasion! You Can Place Them On The Counter For Now, There Should Be An Open Space."

You do as instructed, admiring all the lovely little details in the home. They certainly tell you plenty about the two, and the things they like.. There's a ton of pretty patterns in the wood in some parts of the kitchen, presumably crafted by Paps himself. There are some red gingham curtains gently blowing with the breeze from outside before he closes the windows, and you briefly catch a glance of a clothesline with drying clothes. Huh, Papyrus must be into cosplay. That's cool!

Sans spooks you, giving you a pat on the shoulder as he walks up to his room. Ooh..this gives you an opportunity to see it..you would hate to pry, though. Maybe another time you can. You'll definitely be visiting later.

Deciding not to pester him, you focus your attention on Papyrus, who's happily humming a tune you don't recognize and cooking up something that makes your mouth water.

"So," His voice catches you off guard, making you jolt. "How'd It Happen?"

"How'd..what happen, exactly?" You smile, leaning a bit on the counter to watch him work.

"How'd You Meet, And How'd You Convince My Brother To Think So Fondly Of You?"

"We met at a- wait, he thinks fondly of me?"

"Well, Of Course He Does! Don't Tell Me You're As Blind As I Am Without Glasses." He lets out a nyeh-heh, stirring something. "He Talks About You Quite Often!"

"He does?.." Your voice is soft when you ask, heat creeping back up to your cheeks before you shake your head to try and make it go away.

"Indeed! Now, I'll Repeat The Other Part..How'd You Meet? I'm Very Curious About That."

"Well, it all started when me and my..well, he's my ex now-"

"Oh, Is This Drama? Now I've Certainly Got To Hear About This. I Love A Little Bit Of Gossip." He grins slyly, and you let out a laugh before going into detail about everything.

Papyrus is such a lovely person to talk to, even if you have to repeat what you say a few times because of his hearing problems. You can definitely understand why Sans thinks so highly of his brother.

Speaking of Sans, he finally joins you both downstairs after a while, having changed into an almost exact replica of the clothes he had been wearing before but much cleaner. Look at him, getting dressed up for the occasion..

Papyrus finishes making his masterpiece, and you all sit down at the table together. It's such a warm environment..Sans cracking jokes, Papyrus groaning but making a few of his own in return..the two sharing fond stories from the past..Papyrus talking about his work and what he loves to do..you could listen to him for hours. The food is immaculate, and you fight the urge to groan with delight at the taste.

When dinner is finished, you send your compliments to the chef, and the taste test for the cookies begins..you stare with anxious anticipation as he inspects a skull-shaped cookie, amused by your choice before biting into it. Silence fills the room before he grins in your direction, putting his hands on his hips.

"This Is Excellent! You Did Wonderfully! Stars, I May Run Out Of These Within The Week! GAH!" He puts his hands on his skull, you and Sans letting out a laugh at his expressions.

"Don't worry, Paps. I'll definitely make some more for you later."

"Wonderful! You Simply Must Show Me How You Make Them. They're Exquisite!"

"Maaybe..but good magicians never reveal their secrets, do they?" You smile slyly. He gasps in understanding, before placing his fist against his palm.

"Right. Fair Enough!"

You don't realize how fast time flies when you're having fun. You could spend eternity with these guys, without changing a thing. They're both so much fun to be around, and..it's really nice, being surrounded by such caring people.

Before you know it you're sitting on the couch, listening to Papyrus ramble about scandals in the monster celebrity world, promptly gasping when you hear something shocking. Sans simply watches the both of you with a lazy smile, chiming in from time to time before you all focus on whatever movie's playing on the TV.

One movie turns into several..

You feel your eyes slowly close as you lean against something big and warm, relaxing with a smile.

Sans freezes when he looks down at you, holding his hands in the air and unsure where to put them. Papyrus scoffs, motioning for him to put his arm around you. Sans looks at him with an expression that screams "are you crazy?!" before Papyrus shoots one back, rolling his eyes and waving him off before whispering a good night to him and heading upstairs. Fuck. What does he do? He couldn't just..could he?

His eyelight darts around until it rests on your sleeping form. He sighs for a moment, before abruptly shortcutting to your house and ensuring that the doors are locked, reappearing in the spot he had been sitting in before. You readjust your position, getting even closer this time.. His face flushes again as he lowers an arm over you, unable to look away. Oh jeez.. Ain't this complicated? Well..lots of things are, aren't they?

Hearing your soft breathing leaves him feeling calm..content. He's..alright with this. He'll embrace the moment for a little while, while it lasts. He focuses on the screen, until his eyes begin to close as well..maybe a nap wouldn't hurt.

#sleeplessflower's oneshots #horror sans #horror sans x reader #scare actor!horror #gender neutral reader #undertale x reader #horrortale x reader #utmv x reader #horrortale sans #lilies divider from saradikagraphics #leaves divider from animatedglittergraphics-n-more #reblog divider from lees-chaotic-brain

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ingydar-phan · 3 months ago

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My question is why is everyone just chomping at the bit for a "hard launch"? These are human beings I just want them to be happy whatever that means to them, we shouldn't be theorizing about whether or not they are gonna announce their relationship whatever it is

Genuinely confused at what this is asking or trying to get at but I’ll try.

Why? Because, as I wrote about in my big text post, everything is intentional. No matter how good of actors they are, when in front of a camera, (only 1% of their actual life), they are making content. They are curating their actions. When in front of a camera they are content creators.

Recognizing that being in content only makes up 1% of their life is the boundary that creates this comfortability. You’re so right, they are human beings. Human beings with 15 years of experience in public relations. Whether you like it or not, realize it or not, their content is based around them. If we only saw their gameplay screen recorded, their content wouldn’t be their content. They are where they are because of how they interact. Because of who they are as people.

I also want to point out that the hard launch thing didn’t come out of nowhere, as of right now, it’s come from pattern recognition of them leading up to something coming. Us watching them isn’t having a hidden camera in their house, it’s them intentionally choosing to put out what they want to put out.

We all want them to be happy. I want them to be happy. What is this weird, coping mechanism defense tactic style, of idea that hard launching (whatever that means) is at all a bad thing? Where do people get the idea that it would suddenly make their life hell, or that we or they would somehow be “losing” in some made up battle?

“We shouldn’t be theorizing” yes we should. I’m taking this lightly as I suppose this is a subjective opinion, but Dan and Phil are RPF enjoyers to their core. Dan got with Phil by obsessing over him online. Like I said, the internet is only 1% of their life. What seems majorly catastrophic to you or us is minuscule to them.

“Their relationship, whatever it is”. Sorry? I genuinely don’t want to be mean, so I’m going to laugh. What a silly little jokester you are. But no, I cannot comprehend people who are intentionally or unintentionally obtuse to the point of boggling when having to think of what DNPs relationship is. To take some sentiments from @dysthoepiadaily, what more can they possibly do? Are people really this dense? They’re husbands, soulmates, more than just romantic, more than friends, 4000 year old tortoises, companions through life, a ranch metaphor, gay uncles, whatever. Sorry it’s not handed to you on a silver platter because you’re terrified of using critical thinking skills out of fear of….judgement? Insult? I don’t even know.

As far as it goes with Dan and Phil as “human beings”, they have done all they can to show us, like any other couple on earth, what they are to each other.

As far as it goes with Dan and Phil as a commercial brand of media, it’s not all about that. The buildup, the complexity, is what makes them interesting. No matter how talented and interesting they are, they undeniably profit off of their romance and relationship to one another, no matter the topic of content. That’s obvious, and it’s a positive aspect, not a negative. Taking that final step of hand feeding or “hard launch” would definitely change the way they’re viewed, but it wouldn’t change who they are. You’ve had the illness even before it got diagnosed, to use a metaphor. We’d just be proud. We wouldn’t change, we’d just be proud of them.

#dan and phil #phan #dnp #dan and phil games #phil lester #dnpgames #dan howell #amazingphil #daniel howell #d&p

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netherfeildren · 1 year ago

Text

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter II : Prometheus

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence; Blood and gore; Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse; Description of injury; Angst; Possessive behavior

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word count: 6.7K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER II : PROMETHEUS

What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us?

-Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

As the days turned to weeks turned to months since that moment in the dark with the Mandalorian, there had been a steadily rising thrum of tumultuous, frenzied energy coiling within you. A ball of hissing, ravenous snakes ready to strike at any moment. Desire turned to want turned to a demand that you were ill equipped to deal with – emotionally and mentally.

You’d had many things in your life that you’d wanted but had not been able to have, and yet that did not mean that you’d ever been good at not getting them. Impulse control, a staying hand, were not things the Maker had blessed you with.

You’d met an old Ugnaught female with a penchant for loving spotchka and Sabacc a little too much. More than she’d ever enjoyed keeping steady work or following the rules or anything else really. You and she had some things in common when it came to that pesky little issue of impulse control. After a brief acquaintanceship, she’d put you on to a group that met sometimes on Nevarro to… support each other… or better yet, to sit around and discuss your issues and vices together in some pseudo imitation of self improvement – the art of staying one’s hand, or whatever you wanted to call it – and if it was not with much success, it was with intention, which you thought was, in the end, just as significant. She said she found the meetings understanding or companionable or something you pretended to tell yourself you didn’t care about.

And sometimes you went.

If for nothing else, to feel as if there were at least a few people in the entire galaxy who knew your name, who knew you were alive, who knew you were alone. You sat there amongst the old and weathered humans and the other ragtag team of varying organics and even the occasional droid, and listened to their stories and their losses and their fear during the reign of the Empire – their struggle, their fight, their apathy now, to survive, to stay afloat in the bleak imperial aftermath.

One such survivor with a nasty love for Spice, needled you the worst. His face was haggard, tired, and there was something so forlorn about him, something that sent a sudden flash of fear through you. Is that what I will be one day? Is that what I already am? I am a person, you think wearily, aren’t I? His voice was tough and ragged, as if he’d gone out into the lava fields and swallowed a chunk of ashen rock to fill his belly, savaging his throat in the process, grating your ears and your nerves.

“Nothing really feels better than when I’m drinking a bottle of spotchka, Spice humming through my veins, watching the sunset. My worries, my fears… they don’t weigh as heavily on my shoulders. And what else is there to do? This is easy. I am good at this. It is a simple thing, even if I must forsake all the rest. And I am tired. I want peace.”

You could understand this.

What else had there been to do under the subjugation of a darker and more powerful force than you could have ever been? You had been young and alone and terrified. In possession of a power beyond your understanding. You had been enslaved, trapped, abused, and then, for a moment, on a precipice. One which you’d taken a leap off of at the first chance. Now though, you were tired, and you too, wanted peace. Even if you weren’t entirely sure if you still believed in the concept. Once, it had seemed easy to lay down and take it, do as you were told. Until it wasn’t, or… until there had been the opportunity for something different. When the Sith lords were crumbling into obscurity and failure one by one, until only you and your master remained. A singular darkness in the galaxy. A lone chance, a step too far, to run had been all you’d needed. A flash of beskar in your mind – screaming, the snuffing of a silver flame – you blink the nightmare, memory, away, be honest with yourself, eyes pressed together tightly, spiky lashes crinkling between your lids.

And you, girl? What about you? What do you have to tell?

Me? Nothing. Nothing to tell – nothing you’d not burn me for.

Or the truth: it was discovered that I could wield the Force when I was a young child. I was hunted, my parents were slaughtered, and I was stolen. Turned and enfolded into their cult. I never had a chance. I never had a choice. I am trying to find my choices again.

The Jedi, the Sith, the Empire, they all fell a long time ago. I need to let the past die, but I will not die with it. So, you do not share that which would get you killed. You could very well be taken for an Imperial remnant and hunted, executed. No matter that you’d been just as powerless, despite everything, just as tortured, just as subjugated as anyone else, in all the ways that really counted. Despite everything – sometimes this great power counted for very little.

They had wanted to make you a God, but a God muzzled, a God restrained.

God struck, God swept, God nonsensical.

Your dreams are always strange and violent now – nightmares of a terrible past coalescing with hopes of a better future. How to reconcile that hideous thing you had been once before with the better thing you were trying to be now? Too difficult to conceptualize. No matter how many times you listened to your strange group of fellow survivors and vice-havers – a funny thing for what would they say, do, to you, if they knew that unlike their spotchka or Spice addictions, your predilection was of a darker nature – to kill, to maim, to destroy?

You leave Nevarro for a time, after that realization. That no matter how much you might ingratiate yourself, no matter the connections you may pretend to make, there is still that, there is still the truth of you.

The second time you meet him, you are where you should not be.

You’d come to Corellia. Filled with a sick and twisted sort of glee that you could roll around in the worst underbelly of the galaxy and survive, hold your own. It was an exercise in restraint and brawn and arrogance, too, perhaps. The crime syndicates running untethered, spice trade, and the harsh reality of industrial life made for a cesspool of the worst sort of cretins.

In some ways, it was exciting for you, and you knew you were looking for something. Something to whet your appetite, quench your thirst, fill the void.

After all, it had been two months, what felt like millenia, since that dark storage alcove where he’d imprinted himself in you. Weeks of having the ghost of him haunt you, the memory of his rough voice whispering phantom-like in your ear, seeing him in your dreams, your nightmares. Desperate interludes in whatever cold and lonely bed you’d claimed for the night, your fingers rubbing frantically at your slippery, swollen clit, trying to chase that feeling he’d pulled out of you and failing. Mandalorian, Mandalorian, Mandalorian. And then, one late night, when you’re on the trail of one such lead towards self destruction, masqueraded as a good time, there, around the corner, in the distance – like a wound of beskar looming in the night – it’s your Mandalorian.

You pause your skulking, stepping back to wrap yourself in the shadows, away from prying eyes. You take him in. Fucking tall and broad, outlined in pale flickering silver. He’s arguing with a young Corellian, sticking his finger in the male's face threateningly, other hand hovering menacingly over his blaster, and you can’t help but snicker. Surly beast, that he is. There is a large part of you that does not want him to see you, who had hoped you’d never again come across him, and then a quieter, but infinitely harder part of you to ignore…

The helmet snaps towards you suddenly, as if sensing your attention, cocks to the side – very much like some predatory animal casting sights on its next meal – his next bounty. You don’t need further warning, you spin on your heel and start in the opposite direction. Heart knocking on the walls of your chest to be let out, let me out, let me out, I want to go with him, cunt going tight and wet, ridiculous, desperate.

A chant that sings: again, again, again, chase me again. Catch me again. I don't know you, but I missed you anyway. I remember you, and I want you.

That dark, red thread snaps taut again, humming with the song of your fates. You already know how this is going to end. How you want it to end.

You always know how everything is going to end.

You pick up your pace, trying to confuse him with your turnarounds, sliding through the alleys and archways and scurrying around corners quickly, and then on one particularly slippery turn, there he is. An impenetrable wall of beskar that you’re slamming into, jarring your brain within your skull, shaking your heart in the cage of your ribs, jostling an impish little giggle out of you.

A pause to catch your breath, he’d cut around and surprised you somehow, “Mandalorian.”

“Brat.” You laugh, his voice is still the same. The depth of it, not a figment of your imagination.

“Fancy meeting you here. On holiday?” You croon, dragging a single, provoking finger across his chest plate, stepping closer to him, pressing up on your tiptoes to grin up at him. You listen to his huff of vexation through the modulator. Oh, don’t pretend, shiny. I know you love this too.

“What are you doing here? Corellia isn’t safe.” Stern, stern tone. If you’d let him huff and puff at you, you’re sure he would.

You roll your eyes at him, as if anything on this planet could do any real harm to the likes of you. “Oh, don’t I know it. I’ve caused the greatest trouble while I’ve been here. It’s been terrible fun.”

He shakes his head down at you disapprovingly, one hand propped on his hip like he’s gearing up to chastise you, readying that menacing finger to shake at you too. You shimmy up against him some more, pressing your breasts up against his chest plate, and you listen to a whisper soft groan vibrate through that impenetrable mask. Not so impenetrable as to keep you out, though, so it seems. You tuck the tips of both hands into the top edge of his breast plate to pull your own face up towards his, and even then, he still has to crook his neck down to look at you. He doesn’t buckle, not even a little bit, under the weight of you trying to hang off of him. You feel one of his hands come up to cup the sharp edge of your elbow, and even through the thick fabric of your dark tunic and the leather of his gloves, his touch feels like fire, like the Force. Stronger than anything else in the whole universe. For some reason, you can feel that deep well of power within you stir at the sight of him, at his touch, like a swirling pool of magma, waiting to rise up and spill out unencumbered. You feel on edge, stretched thin and held together only by frayed seams.

“Did you miss me, Mandalorian?” He tugs you slightly further into the shadow of the building’s side looking up and around the two of you for one moment, oh, yes, yes, yes, again, again, making sure your surroundings are clear.

“You like to be chased,” he says back.

“I like to be caught.”

“By me.”

“By you.” Truth.

“Only me.” It seems he’s finally learned to flirt.

You step up onto his big boot with the tip of one small foot, really trying to climb him in earnest now, bringing yourself up even closer to him, and he wraps his other hand around your waist beneath your cloak, the tips of his long fingers splayed over the top swell of your ass to press your pelvis into his. You bury your nose into the folds of his cape around his throat, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of him, hooking an arm around the back of his neck. You want to kiss him.

“Last time, you said, maybe next time. Is that now?” You breathe into that dark space beneath his helmet’s edge.

You listen to his soft groan, the two of you pulling each other in even closer, trying to meld yourselves to each other, liquid metal’s mixing, beskar melted and writhing amidst fire and flame, and as you’re about to beg him to find another dark alcove for the two of you, you sense them at the same time that his helmet snaps up and to the side, right as they’re descending upon the shadows where you’re hidden, too late to block their blaster fire as they open upon the two of you without any sort of protection to shield yourselves with. Your reaction time is delayed blocking their attack, distracted by him, by his touch, and too long since you’ve openly and freely wielded your power, and he spins, suddenly, huge frame hunching over your smaller one to protect you from the onslaught, to shield you. You hear the bolts of plasma make contact with the beskar over his back, and then his harsh, pained groan as they meet the unprotected places between the gaps in his armor. You spot the Corellian he was arguing with before, over his shoulder.

A savage growl rips from his throat as his knees buckle, and you wrap one arm around his strong waist, trying to hold him up as he struggles to remain upright. He’s been hit badly in the side, you feel the hot seep of his blood spill. You raise your other hand over his shoulder then, a furious seeping coil starting to move through your body.

“You’re hit,” you whisper up at him. One of his hands claws at your shoulder, he’s so heavy, while the other braces against the wall behind you, trying to remain upright.

“My blaster,” he snarls, “Take my blaster. Run.”

“It’s alright,” you say calmly, even though you feel anything but. You can feel his life force literally seeping out of him, and you’re hit, square in the face, with the realization of how truly strong he is. He is so potent, so alive, that his presence in the Force is almost a physical thing despite his lack of powers. The Force lives through us all, and he is powerful, all in his own right, purely for the vitality of him.

He is strong and good, and that seeping coil turns into a ravenous howl.

There is a group of five organics of varying species surrounding the two of you, frozen by that lifted hand of yours. It closes into a fist, and three of them fall instantly dead, minds pulverized under the force of your power. The edges of your vision go slightly dark.

“It’s going to be alright,” you say gently to him again. His hand on your shoulder is twisting painfully into your clothes, your joint straining beneath his strength, and he shakes you sharply, trying to push you away. “Fucking go. Why aren’t you moving?” One of his knees buckles, his voice wavers. He’s bleeding out so fast. You grip him beneath his elbows and start to slowly help him lower to the ground. One of his knees suddenly gives out, cracking harshly against the hard ground beneath. “What are you doing?” There’s a flavor of desperation infusing his tone. As if he’s worried for you. As if he is worried for you. “There are too many of them, and I’m–” His voice cuts off with a choked snarl of agony. He’s hurt, he’s hurt. You need to move quickly, or he’s going to die.

“It’ll be alright, Mandalorian. Wait here. I’ll be right back for you.” He says something more, something growled that sounds suspiciously like, fucking hate it when you say Mandalorian like that, can’t kriffing do as you’re told, but your attention is no longer on him. You step in front of him, blocking the sight of his fallen form from the two remaining, soon to be dead, males. You cast a wide net of the Force around the four of you. Besides the three dead bodies, there is nothing else awake and lurking in the shadows for about a two kilometer radius. Lovely.

The Corellian is obviously the leader. You look towards the other first, a big, ugly Trandoshan, and as you set your sights on him, you release him from his paralysis, giving him a moment to get his bearings and reach for his blaster. He scrambles to pull it from its holster and fires directly at you. And at your once again raised hand, the beam of plasma freezes mid air in a thrumming, angry screech of red magma. You listen to the Trandoshan’s horrified gasp, watch his eyes go wide and terrified through your splayed fingers, “You’re–”

“Yes. I am.” You send the blaster beam back in his direction with a slight flick of your wrist, piercing him directly through the throat, and leaving a wide, smoking hole of charred flesh clean through its ugly neck. The body falls to the damp street with a harsh thud.

“And you?” You turn toward the Corellian. “Were you his bounty?” His eyes are frenzied, manic, terrified, “Ah, Sith got your tongue?” The acrid scent of urine permeates the air, and you let out a barking little chirp of a laugh. You can feel the Mandalorian fading behind you, struggling to stay alert. No time to play with your food. There is a part of you, small or large, you can’t tell now, in the haze of the Force overwhelming you after not having used it like this in so long, that is worried that this is a step in the wrong direction. You haven’t killed in a long time – not since that last one. No – don’t think of it. Not now. Not with him here. And perhaps, this is a step in the wrong direction, a step backwards, but there’s really no choice. They’ve hurt him.

You have no choice other than this.

You reach for your lightsaber strapped into a holster low on your thigh, an inconspicuous place where you can hide it in the dark folds of your clothes. You’ve not wielded one since your escape, since that last time. Your heart beats painfully in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s more of a blood hungry sort of excitement or out of fear for him, lying wounded behind you.

“No… I’m just kidding.” A girlish little giggle, “I’m not a Sith anymore. Don’t worry. If I were still that, I’d draw this out. Make you suffer for a very, very long time for hurting him.” You pull something from your person then, and the night is filled with the crackling hissing sound of an igniting lightsaber. He’s never seen one in person before – only heard of them in stories. The dark street illuminated with the bright light of a violet colored plasma cross guard that sputters and wavers furiously, unstable, like the sound of metal being clawed to shreds. Despite the protection of his helmet, Din squeezes his eyes shut for an instant, afraid that the bright light would blind him, sear his retinas from their sockets.

You are a burning effigy washed in the violet light of righteous fury as you stalk slowly towards his, soon to be dead, bounty. Din has no power, but if he did, he is certain that he would be able to feel your presence in the Force as surely as he feels the blaster hole in his flank. Even powerless, he’s sure he can feel the humming waves of your strength brushing up against his armor clad form.

“She’s never been wet before.” Your voice is inexplicably lovely, soft and lilting. It had been the first thing he’d noticed about you, after those hypnotizing eyes that had terrified him for the intensity of feeling they conveyed, the two warring colors, one lighter than the other, one cast in perpetual darkness and the other so vibrantly bright it almost glows. The way they’d enthralled him, forced him to go after you that night on Nevarro, if only so that he could look into them one more time. “You’ll be my first blood with this – I made her just recently…” You say casually, lifting the lightsaber up to appreciate it between the two of them. The Corellian is frozen still, and Din assumes that you’re holding him so. You’d killed all the rest without so much as a blink. You’d stopped the fucking blaster bolt mid air. Din has never witnessed such a thing in his entire life. He thinks, for a brief moment, that perhaps, he should be frightened, or worried. He’s bleeding out, he’s dying, prone on the ground and vulnerable, and this girl is of a capacity he’s never encountered thus far in all his travels through the galaxy.

But he is not.

For some reason, the Mandalorian is not afraid.

“Pretty, no?” You croon at the Corellian, and if Din was of a sound mind, and not currently delirious from blood loss, he’s sure he’d not have felt that twinge of ridiculous jealousy twist through his gut at hearing you give that soft voice to another male. You twirl the blade so fast he scarcely catches it, then lets your wrist fall, the angry buzzing tip of plasma touches the ground so it screeches and hisses. You seem to deflate for a second, arms hanging limply at your sides, and shake your head at him. “You hurt him,” you say so softly he has to strain to hear through the haze of blood loss. He’s fading. He does not want to leave you alone. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

You should not have to face this alone.

Another lightning fast twist of your wrist, the violet beam an arc of pure light through the night’s dark air, and then: “He’s mine.”

You slice the Corellian diagonally from hip to shoulder. Din does not think the creature even has a moment to realize what’s been done to him before the two halves of its body are sliding clean and wet against each other and crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud.

When you turn back to look down upon him, your eyes are filled with so much fear and hurt and desolation, and Din must close his own eyes to shutter himself away from the terrible sight of your pain. He never wants to see that look in you again.

You seem to be a complicated amalgamation of a woman. At once strange and mercurial and violent. Wholly unreachable, unknowable. And then at the next moment: frightened, tender, soft. With a vulnerability that brings every protective, fighting instinct out in Din. Everything that makes him a Mandalorian. Everything that he holds so dearly within his Creed, you call to, after only one meeting in the dark. To protect you, to care for you, to venerate you. And the shroud of loneliness, the air of other that surrounds you, as if you’d never known the soft touch of a caring hand, the loving embrace of a mother – calls to the very same things within Din’s own soul. The same things he’d never had but always wanted. They were the same, and yet, so vastly different. Existing on two separate ends of the galaxy's spectrum. Creatures meant to be enemies, perhaps, to kill each other. And yet here he found himself, prostrate and bleeding on the ground as you defended his life. Entirely at you mercy.

And now you’ve saved him.

His eyes flutter shut once again, consciousness winking away.

He’s as heavy as a star blasted bantha, and you feel that your bones will surely crack and crumble to dust beneath the weight of him leaning over your shoulder while you try to get him coherent enough to move his legs and walk. While at the same time, as inconspicuously as possible, trying to use the Force to support him on his other side, a tendril of power applying pressure to the ragged, bleeding hole in his side without drawing too much attention to yourselves. And then, also, of course, with the added strain of tugging the two separate halves of his bounty behind you, wrapped in some discarded tarp you’d found because even bleeding out and two paces away from dropping dead he’d still had the wherewithal for a muttered, don’t leave my bounty. If you roll your eyes at him any harder they’d surely fall right out of your skull.

You are a small human, and he is a big, big man. Who is currently providing absolutely no help.

“Kriffing come on, Mandalorian. You’ve got to help me out here. You’re heavier than a fucking rancor covered in all this metal.”

You see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye, trying to stir himself into coherence, “How did you do that?” He slurs.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you whine, drawing out the vowel at the end and ignoring his question.

You hear a small huff of air pass through the modulator, “You’re just too– too small.” His words are too slow, his voice too weak. You try and propel the two of you forwards faster.

“Psshh, don’t provoke me, or I’ll drop you.”

“How’d you– you do that? T– Too small…” A pained, savage snarl as he stumbles. You exert more of the Force to prop him up. Fuck it, if someone notices the two of you, you’ll just kill them. What’s one more after you’d just gone and done away with five in one fell swoop after months and months of nothing – of peace?

You’re sure your mind, and that disgustingly soft heart that’s been trying to force its way to life inside of your chest recently, will make you pay for this later.

“I’m a wizard,” you deadpan. You’re sweating beneath your heavy layers, slightly dizzy from exerting so much power so quickly. You’re beginning to think that going completely cold bantha steak and cutting yourself off from the Force had been a mistake. You feel wrung out and stretched thin and weak.

“No– not, little one,” he stutters.

“That’s it. I’m dropping you.” But you clutch your arm tighter around his waist, pressing your cheek up against the space between his shoulder pauldron and the edge of his chest plate. You can feel the sweltering heat from his skin steaming through the heavy material of his underweave.

“Are not.” You can hear the wet gasps of his panting breath under the helmet, and the sleeve of the arm you have wrapped around his waist feels soaked through with his blood. You don’t know how he’s still conscious and making the best attempt he can to walk after all this.

“Maker, what do you eat, beskar for breakfast also? Just tell me where your damn ship is before more of those mudscuffers find us.”

“Landing bay seven,” And you thread your fingers through the hand of the arm he’s got slung over your shoulders, tightly. You have to move faster. You have to make him be okay. But despite your anxiety and desire to rush, the two of you make your way slowly through the Corellian alleyways. Him, struggling to remain upright, you, trying desperately to not make your invisible strength entirely obvious.

And you fail to notice the slithery little Twi’lek, watching the two of you from the shadows, completely unaware that she will await your return to Corellia for a long, long time to come.

Dragging his heavy ass in through the open hatch of his, believe it or not, piece of shit pre Imperial gun ship, with a grumbled, nice hunk of junk, that all he’d been able to counter with was a defensive hiss, as your arms were about to snap off under his weight, feels like a singular sort of victory after what the two of you had just gone through. His feet stumbling over one another, he’s just on this side of consciousness when you finally make it within the safety of his ship. He melts into a crashing heap of beskar on the durasteel floor, and you finally let go of the disgusting weight of the dead Corellian, as you move quickly to shut yourselves inside, engaging the security system and motion sensors, lest someone else decide to catch the two of you unawares. Spinning quickly back towards him to start ripping the beskar plates off his chest to get to his injury. You quickly realize that the armor is held together by complex magnetics hidden beneath each piece and swiftly disengage those over his chest and abdomen. He’s got on a thickly woven underweave beneath the underplates, and you make quick work of unfastening the closures on that, as well, but when you’ve reached the last layer of his clothing, a thin, dark undershirt, you pause. The material is warm and soft and worn, something you’re sure he must don all the time and meticulously maintain and care for, like all the other pieces of the intricate uniform of his Creed. A Creed which you’re not certain you’d be breaking by looking upon the uncovered skin of his chest and abdomen. But he’s dying, you think, and you have to save him, and you can feel the physical and intangible manifestations of that slow crawl towards death in the spill of his hot blood on your hands, slowly drooling onto the metal floor, as well as the slow seep of his life force out into the ether. He’s dying, and you have to save him.

You push the last layer, keeping him covered from your eyes, up his chest. The blaster wound is a ragged mess of blood and charred flesh, to his right flank. The trajectory positioned high in the upper quadrant of his abdomen so that you’re fairly certain it must have nicked his liver. You probe gently at the wound inside with a tendril of the Force, and your panic ricochets up to a shrill crescendo within you – yes, he’s hit badly, a laceration to the uppermost corner of the organ. You move to stand quickly, sweating and stumbling in your panic towards the compartments along the walls of the hull, ripping open drawers and cabinets until you come across his med kit. There are bacta injections, hard to come by, but of course he’s well supplied – you can only imagine the collection of injuries he must have gathered throughout his travels, and patches inside, and you return to kneel at his side, knees cracking painfully against the cold, hard floor as you fall next to him. Hands shaking, vision slightly blurry, you pop the cap off of the syringe, and try and take deep steadying breaths as you pull down the neck of his shirt to get at the uppermost part of his shoulder. When you press the aggressive looking needle into his skin he jerks, and the sound of the helmet rolling against the floor has your eyes shooting up to his face, “It’s okay,” you try and soothe. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to fix this.” You press down on the plunger slowly, watching the bacta slowly make its way from the glass barrel into his arm. He gives a low groan of pain as the thick substance enters his muscle. Please, please, work. Please, you have to be okay. You pause for a second once the injection is done, watching the shallow, quick hiccups of his breath, the rapid dip of his abdomen, as if he’s struggling to continue the act, in pain. Fuck. You rip open one of the bacta patches and carefully place it over the gaping wound, reaching for two more after that to make sure the entire large circumference of the hole in his side is covered, and then go still. His breathing is still rapid and shallow, almost gasping, and you take in, for the first time, the entire vision of his naked chest and abdomen. Thick, strong waist, tapering down into slim hips, smeared in the dark vermillion of his blood, you watch the shifting of his abdominal muscles beneath his smooth, golden brown skin. You’d pushed his shirt high up on his chest, but you grip the edge to pull it down a little lower, making sure he’s only as uncovered as necessary. You’re not entirely sure how quickly the bacta should work – why isn’t he waking up, why isn’t he saying anything, why isn’t his breathing normalizing?

“Mandalorian,” you whisper, and the helmet shifts the tiniest bit towards the sound of your voice, the fingers of his left hand twitch and curl inwards. You place your other hand low on his belly, the edge of his shirt still gripped in your hand and scoot closer to him, your bent knees pressed into his hip. “Please–” you whisper and you realize your cheeks are wet, tears making a slow stream down your face. Your voice breaks, “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you know that this is your fault. You distracted him, led him on that ridiculous chase. He’d have captured his bounty and been safely on his way if it weren’t for you. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” Not again, please, I can’t have done this again. You let your head hang forward, your torso bending slightly so that your forehead is pressed into his hip as you let your desperate and pathetically terrified tears fall. This is your fault. One more terrible thing come at your hands.

If you could only – don’t even think it, you do not possess the capacity for that sort of goodness – but the hopeless thought worms its way into your mind anyway, if you could only heal him with the Force. But you’d never possessed that sort of ability, only the strongest of Force users could wield their power for healing, and despite the fact that you can still feel the deep well of your power churning in your veins right now, after your brutal display on the streets of Corellia, you know that such a thing is beyond your capability. Such an act only possible to those with great aptitude for light wielding or those dark siders who were willing to pay a great and terrible price, that of stealing vitality from another being to enact such a power.

And you hate yourself more in this moment than all the others. You wish desperately, painfully that you could be a different sort of person, a different sort of monster. That you could be good. That you possessed the ability to do good with this Force that roils through your veins, and that should have helped you, but had only ever truly hurt you.

What is the point of this great power within you, you think, if you cannot wield it in this most necessary of moments? In this instance when, more than any other, you wish you had the strength of the Force to heal him. With your head still pressed to his hip and your hands still on his chest and belly you open your eyes to watch your tears roll over his tan skin. I’m sorry, you think again, I wish you had never come across me. You watch the slow journey of your tears as they slide across his hip and drip silently down onto the floor of the hull, mixing with the dark crimson of his spilled blood.

You’ve never been one for much faith in any sort of higher power, too many times in your life when you’d wished for something greater than you to come and save you gone unanswered, but you pray to the Maker in this moment that the Mandalorian survive this, please, please, he is good, please, let him survive this. Your eyes flutter closed, you feel the sweep of your lashes against his warm skin, and you pray to the Force and the Maker and any other entity out there in the vast, unending galaxy that a creature such as this, one who is strong and valiant and good, not be felled by an association with the likes of you. And as you think, please, just this one thing, just this one time, I’ll never ask for anything else ever again if you only save him now, you feel that space deep within you, where the very nectar of the Force lives in your soul, shift and churn, and it is as if one of the very building blocks of the core material that makes you what you are, slides out of that place and slots itself into him. Plugging away at the gaping, life threatening wound and mending his torn flesh and healing that which had been savaged. You feel the very fibers of him stitch themselves back together at that outpouring of yourself into his own body, and he has a piece of you now, even if he is unaware, even if, perhaps, he would not want it, you’ve given yourself to him in a way you’ve not ever done with anyone else before. Slotted yourself within him and plugged his wound away to heal him.

You feel your body sag into his, all strength suddenly leaving you, but you force your muscles into movement and push yourself up off of him so that you can look up at his helmet covered face. His breathing suddenly stutters, and you freeze, your heart screaming in panic, but then he takes one long, deep breath, the wings of his rib cage flaring wide, and the rhythm returns to a slow, measured cadence. You take in the expanse of his strong abdomen, muscled, but also slightly soft around his belly button, the tantalizing trail of hair that disappears into his trousers. There are old scars and rough patches of poorly mended skin scattered across him, but his skin is also still soft and smooth and warm. His body is a weapon all on its own, battle hardened and made strong and resilient out of a necessity for survival, and beautiful. Above all else, he is beautiful. His long limbs are splayed wide on the durasteel floor. His cape is tangled around his throat and shoulders, and you move to pull the trapped folds from around his neck, giving him more freedom to breathe deeply. You tug the fabric down to spread out at his side so that you can lay on top of it. Your head is spinning now, your heart beating so fast you feel the rebounding rush of your blood in your eardrums. You’ve overexerted yourself, drawn too much power too quickly. Head spinning, vision going slightly dark at the edges, you feel a sharp, piercing pain behind your left eye, and your arms give out as you let yourself curl into a ball at his side, tucked into the crook of his underarm beneath his splayed limb. Right before you lose consciousness, you remember to pull his shirt down the rest of the way. He should be covered when he awakens, you don’t want him to worry that you’d violated him in any way, looked at his face or seen more of him than was absolutely necessary. He should feel reassured. You do not want him to be worried or afraid.

When consciousness finally winks away, like a singular dying star in the vastness of space, your fingers are still twisted in his shirt over his belly.

Chapter III

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lxdymoon0357 · 11 months ago

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Hii Can I request A part 2 Of the where the reader Treats rashta like a human being rather than a slave ?

Pls take ur time

-Sincerely,📻😈 anon

(Heyyy 📻😈 anon! How have you been thank you again for requesting this and hopefully you enjoy your time here! Also don't know if you wanted it romantic or platonic, so made it neutral... Part 1 also I'm changing the fact that she didn't have any kids to that she only had Ian and she isn't pregnant Gloryem!)

Rashta, their companion Pt.2

◈ Rashta is always at your beck and call and always helps you in your work, she's waiting for you to call her when you need help while she is either doing something for her wedding clothes shops or dress shop and clothing shops (she sells everything a woman needs).

◈ Or when she is doing some resin art, she is sometimes hoping that you will call her because you missed her...She is very attached to you, emotionally and physically :))

◈ Whenever she is eating foods, you and all the servants together, she thinks of you all like a family and wonders if you all think of her as one too? Hopefully, cause she can now never bear to think about all of you not being with her!

◈ She is always happy to enjoy time with kids, even though her PTSD sometimes causes her to have panic attacks and push kids away, cause she gets scared and it always scares the kids as well, sadly...

◈ But their parents understand her situation and they are always happy to help her calm down, the kids don't mind either, cause their parents explained how Miss. Rashta has a bad past and an illness which causes her to be very scared around kids and so they try their best to not scare her.. :(((((

◈ She will always dedicate many of her works to you, designing them on your favourite colours, patterns you like, things you like, etc. She is always happy to see, how you enjoy her art, cause it means the world to her!

◈ She is so grateful for you, every season of her clothing shops, she will first and foremost release a season for you! and only after your season will she put out the other season! She is a trendsetter and many people like her works!

◈ She loves animals and love to care for them, she also loves spending ties with the kids in the manor, it's honestly makes her inner child heal and makes her feel better and refreshed! She will go to any length, she will be a princess or a dragon or a knight or a witch, she is just happy to be around the kid! And she loves to feed animals, groom them, brush their fur or simply stroke them.

◈ She will always have you take breaks by helping her in designing or doing resin art or something relaxing in general or talking a walk around the manor! She doesn't want you to overwork!

◈ She would always go picnics with you whenever she and you get the time, she always has the best treats and acquires the cheapest yet the healthiest foods! She sometimes even brings everyone in the manor, including the kids and servants and maybe even pets!!

◈ She is friendly and makes friends easily, and she can also easily test people unless they're her friend..then she can never know who is her fake friend and so she trust your judgement and hopefully your judgement is good, cause if not, then well....she doesn't care how many friend she loses, as long as you're with her...

◈ Rashta eagerly misses Ian and is always having nightmares about him, his birth and his killing...She can't ever forget about him, so you got her a HUGE portrait of her with Ian in her arms, and another where she said she wanted you to get one where Ian is all grown and head of your manor and he looks like a mixture of you and her!

◈ She got you to get a trainer for her so she could learn sword-fighting or hand-to-hand combat because she wants to be strong and it is quite of her interest! and she enjoys it and you can't say no to your girlfriend and so she's good at that as well, surprisingly!

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absolutefilthimsosorry · 5 months ago

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Spoilers for DnP Incohearent!!!!

I’m having so much fun trying to solve these that I made a list to keep track! Message if you can help me fill in any I’m missing or if I’ve got any wrong!!!

Also lmk if you see any I’ve missed!! I’m going to keep updating this and have it unrebloggable but you can reblog this post to have a link to it!

These are all gathered from this post and this post so check the notes on those first to try to solve them then look here if you need answers!

Sow march cheer ray = so much cherry

Wee nay urn for uke oye yer tub = we’ve never fucked on youtube?

Ta fold in fig = the golden pig

Feed hay hid eho = vday video

Tat he won ape hit morse him he = daddy want a bit more simmy

Watt ken ice hay = what can I say

North key bus teabag king = naughty busty baking

Fool tie enter nit hobo / fall tie mint her nepo moe / fault aye mint earn are ohm owe/ foul thyme inch hermit hole mold = full time internet homo

Cumin mile aid deed or = come in my ladydoor

Hum hay zinc tan = amazingdan

Elven ower fug sedge own = eleven hour fuck session

An berry moth ribeye adam stir = and every month we buy a hamster

March rest array = Manchester eye

Cyst herding yell = sister daniel

Add a ding teps = editing tips

Cop dubai khaki luna = topped by kakuna

Late eat tore = ladydoor

Half tugger etch two eggs cyst = have the courage to exist

Perish she end wink = Parisian twink

Coal ten big/ goal then pick = golden pig

Cyst ordain yell = sister daniel

Train youth inks = try new things

Gay mean moss/ gain ink mass = gamingmas

Soften need = soft and neat

A wools lied = owl slide

Topper bought them hill = top or bottom Phil

Coat fit firenze = golf with friends???

Few ours pig meow fits = viewers pick my outfits

Read less tar = red lester

Eye eight soup igloo = I ate super glue

Insight youth era too walls = inside you there are two wolves

Mine amy stan = my name is Dan

Clap hella = glabella

Hiss teeth rent = hits different

Eel eyes apron kay kiss = Eliza pancakes

See pram haze ink bra jet = super amazing project

Feels lie yawn = phils lion

Fuel ease snot dawn fair = Phil is not on fire

Jaw shush ear son = josh hutcherson

Ball bull him tour food = bauble in your foot?

Sure eck = shrek

High ate dust = hiatus

Add a dink deps = editing tips

Ga hay shoom air age = gay shoe marriage

Pope eat plate aim = poppy playtime

Eat aches stu = it takes two

Goo gal few ed = google feud

Baze ick lee eye meg ay = basically I’m gay

Ko min yout ti ew = coming out to you

Ender knit subvert grew oop = internet support group

Phylis turn yar a sheen yes = PHIL LESTER YOU’RE A GENIUS

With Audi intern yet wean ed brr wood halve mat = without the internet we never would have met

Gum ban yins drool I’ve = companions through life

Reed sons wide answer flail = reasons why dans a fail

Ewan dam ah some are reed = you and Dan are so married

Denver sis fill/ Denver cis full = Dan vs Phil

Or lawn huffing = all or nothing

Dunk rye core raft = don’t cry craft

Mortal jester roam and thick/ Morph adjust row antic = more than just romantic

So wall how debris poll light = swallow to be polite???

Oar hinge art = orange heart

Foray virgo em = forever home

Chai reel loop/ share real oob = cherry lube

Cad boyd anne = cat boy dan

Far turf ill lip = father philip

Tess lit hen ink = the slittening

Forth house indie rolled or touches = four thousand year old tortoises

Hey moth swish roundup floating = a month without uploading

Jam march let pet tea an farms = Je mange les petit enfants

Day lion howl tour = Dalien Howlter

Ima let all kit = I’m a little kit

Feel pearl lays shell ter = Phil plays shelter

Fewer blue key app ending = viewer spooky happenings

Hell low iam tour reel = hello I am Toriel

Laugh tuh gey mile kuh = left to get milk

Villas eek wreck why vuh = Phil’s secret wife

Footy strain gin said dent = ___ strange incident????

Snow core play sum = snokoplasm

Nope puts cereal sleeping mage innit = no but seriously imagine it

Tear rip pulling flu hence = terrible influence

Jeff why eye aisle hike vague liner = fyi I like vagina

Eggs intense all cry cis = existential crisis

List of contributors

@fletthewreck @dandp @deadandphilgames @manchesterau @thephouseplants @awrfhi @jonsaremembers @rachosaurusrex @dapgolf @dan-whoell @dnphobe @dreamingalto @steveandscraggy @phanbeats @danandfuckingjonlmao @pepper-pastry @yonpote @un-interactive-introvert @spaniel-trowel @sisterdanieldyke @queerdnp @morganadelacour @amid-fandoms @spectral-kitkat @goingpheral @angelzonearth @wdapteo @2009phan @dansevilpianotea

#phan #dnp #dan and phil #incohearent #dnp incohearent #dnp incohearent masterlist

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covid-safer-hotties · 2 months ago

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Also preserved on our archive

Do you have $32,000 for covid treatment? Neither did Nannette, and now her whole family is paying the price for her covid hospitalization. This is why we must mask up: You may be able to afford that cost, but you are just as likely to spread covid to dozens who cannot if you refuse to take precautions, especially when ill.

By Noah Zahn

CHEYENNE — When Nannette Hernandez got COVID in 2021, she didn’t realize how long it would take to recover. Although she was released from the hospital after only a few days of care, she is still suffering from the financial burden that has led to the loss of her job and her home.

At 45 years old, Hernandez and her son, 26, moved in with her mother when she lost her home. The three of them now live together in a mobile home south of Cheyenne. The walls and tabletops are decorated with photos of family members, many of the frames containing photos of her three grandchildren.

Papers were strewn across the coffee table in the living room: bills from the hospital, letters to the hospital, research on how to get financial assistance, one letter denying financial assistance.

Although Hernandez says she tries to keep a positive attitude, her smile faded when she said she often feels hopeless as her debt continues to grow and she is considering filing for bankruptcy.

“They garnish my wages every week, and I owe them more now today than what the judgment was for, and that’s all due to the interest,” Hernandez said. “I’m never going to get through this, you know.” Toys are neatly put away in a corner of the room, behind the couch, for when her grandchildren come to visit on her days off work.

Hernandez has a new job and has health insurance. In addition, she contributes a portion of her wages to life insurance. She said she does this so that she at least has something she can pass on to her family.

Before interest, Hernandez’s bill from Cheyenne Regional Medical Center was around $32,000 after three days of care for COVID and related pneumonia and reduced to $22,000 because she was paying uninsured and out-of-pocket. Between garnished wages and paying for insurance, Hernandez says she only sees at most $12 of her $17.30 per hour wage from working at a deli in a truck stop.

Hernandez said she now suffers from depression as a result of the stress caused by her medical debt. It is difficult for her to work full 40-hour weeks at her job.

However, her smile returned as she talked about how she gets to spend time with her grandchildren, aged 2, 4 and 8, on her days off.

“They’re my light. Oh, they’re wonderful,” she said. “… I stay happy. I don’t let it give me misery, that’s one thing. I might carry it, and I might be right here, always talking about it, but very blessed, very happy, though, still, no matter what.”

Available funding The Provider Relief Fund (PRF) was established in the Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security Act (CARES Act) to reimburse eligible health care providers for increased expenses or lost revenue attributable to COVID care.

A companion fund to the PRF is the Uninsured Funds, which made $10 billion available nationally to reimburse providers for treatment, vaccines and vaccine administration costs for care provided to uninsured individuals.

According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, CRMC received $3,145,097 in Uninsured Funds for COVID treatment, accounting for nearly 30% of the Uninsured Funds received by care providers across the state. It is unclear whether these funds were what reduced Hernandez’s bill from $32,000 to $22,000. Her itemized bill notes the reduction as a discount for “self-pay, uninsured.”

Hernandez received her $22,000 bill shortly after she was released from the hospital and was summoned to court when she did not make payments. She did not appear in court, as she said she felt hopeless and afraid and knew she would be unable to pay. As a result, the court ordered the hospital to garnish 25% of her wages and any argument she had that the government should have assisted her financially was nullified.

After her hospitalization, Hernandez was forced to leave her job of 10 years, where she worked as a waitress, and was unable to work for three months while she stayed at home and was on oxygen 24 hours per day, due to COVID complications.

“I would like to see if they could reverse this, it’s not that I didn’t seek assistance. Now I’ll never get out of this, I’m never going to get out of this,” she said. “It started at $32,000. I’ve been paying on that this whole time. I had started working, they started garnishing right away. I owe them more now. What am I paying for? What am I working for?”

Additionally, Hernandez said she applied for and was denied CRMC’s financial assistance program. According to CRMC’s policy summary, CRMC determines whether patients qualify for financial assistance based on their income and household size compared to the Federal Poverty Guidelines from the HHS. In 2021, those guidelines stipulate that the threshold for a one-person household is $12,880 annual income.

“If being an uninsured waitress making $350 a week doesn’t qualify a person for financial assistance under your hospital’s charity policy, I’d like to know what does,” Hernandez wrote in an email to CRMC officials.

Hernandez sent this email to CRMC, the Center for Medicare & Medicaid Services and Wyoming government officials. In nearly two months, she only got a response from CMS, which informed her it never received an application submitted on her behalf for Wyoming Medicaid and she was not on Medicaid at that time.

Hernandez: “The prices, they’re outrageous”

In this letter, she also claims she was overcharged. On her itemized bill, she was charged $2,124.20 per 100 mg vial of Remdesivir. Gilead Sciences, the drug’s manufacturer, set the price of Remdesivir at $390 per vial for uninsured patients. Hernandez was charged for five vials for a total of $10,621 instead of what would have been $1,950 for five vials directly from the manufacturer.

Hernandez was charged $8.01 for each 20 mg tablet of famotidine, an acid reducer. This medication is commonly available over the counter and a pack of 225 20 mg tablets is available on Amazon for just under $9, equivalent to about $0.04 per tablet. At this rate, CRMC’s price for the medication is 19,825% higher than what can be purchased in store or online.

CRMC charged her the same price for each 100 mg tablet of thiamine mononitrate, more commonly known as a B1 vitamin. These can also be purchased in the pharmacy section of most grocery stores. A pack of 100 tablets can be found for $7, or $0.07 per tablet, more than 114 times less than the hospital’s price.

It is common for hospitals to charge more for medications, even if it can be purchased at a CVS or Walgreens, for charges associated with administering the drug to the patient. This may include factors like the doctor’s prescription, the pharmacy charge to fill the order, the transportation of the drug from the pharmacy to the medication unit, administration of the medication from the registered nurse to the patient and documentation that the correct medication was administered on the patient’s record.

However, Hernandez believes an 11,343% upcharge for a B1 vitamin may be a bit too much.

When she initially went to urgent care and got an X-ray scan, she was told to go to the emergency room immediately, and the providers at the urgent care said it was a matter of life or death. Without financial assistance or price transparency as her bills continued to grow, Hernandez felt disenfranchised and marginalized and is now fearful of the system that is supposed to provide care for her and the community. She said she is now afraid to ever get sick again.

“I feel it’s unjust. I should not be living every day with a heavy burden like this,” Hernandez said. “… I’m sure I’m not the only person this has happened to. I know there has to be so many more.”

Price transparency In 2022, the White House reported that one-in-three adults in the United States — nearly 100 million people — have medical debt. It is now the largest source of debt in collections — more than credit cards, utilities and auto loans combined. Data from the 2020 U.S. Census also found that Black and Hispanic households are more likely to hold medical debt than white households.

The U.S. spent 17.8% of gross domestic product on health care in 2021, nearly twice as much as the average economically developed country. However, the Peterson-KFF life expectancy tracker shows that the average American lifespan is nearly five years lower than those in the comparable country average and was about the same in 2022 as it was in 2004, while most other comparable countries’ life expectancies have increased since then.

Marni Carey is the president of Power to the Patients, a nonprofit organization advocating patients’ rights to upfront price transparency from hospitals.

“I get letters every day from people who are fighting medical debt, burdensome medical debt,” Carey said. “… It’s just a horrible place to be driven to. And if hospitals could tell patients in advance what their financial responsibility is, or if patients could look online and see what the cost of care is, they could choose providers that were affordable to them and competition could enter the marketplace and Tylenols wouldn’t be $80, they would be $5. That’s why we need transparency, so patients can have financial certainty when they go into the medical system.”

A February 2024 report from Patient Rights Advocate, a nonprofit advocating systemwide health care price transparency, found that nearly two-thirds of American hospitals were not compliant with the federal Hospital Price Transparency Rule, which took effect in January 2021, including CRMC. This legislation requires hospitals to make their prices publicly available and easily accessible online to help patients understand the cost of care before they receive it.

According to the report, CRMC is compliant with all transparency rules except for negotiated rates, which Patient Rights Advocate measured by whether the hospital posted the charge that the hospital has negotiated with a third-party payer for an item or service. They found CRMC lists 89% of its negotiated rates as “N/A.”

“I couldn’t go into the Cheyenne Regional Medical Center machine readable files and find out if (Hernandez’s) bill was at all correct, because the hospital doesn’t have that, they don’t comply,” Carey said.

CRMC officials declined to comment on this story, citing patient privacy.

“For privacy reasons, we can’t disclose patient medical treatment or billing details. We recently received a letter from Ms. Hernandez and we will review the medical and billing records and provide a response,” CRMC told the WTE in a statement. “As a general matter, please note that sending a bill to a collections agency and potentially sending an unpaid bill through a court process are last resorts, used only when someone does not respond to offers of financial assistance, billing statements and phone calls.”

At the time of publication, Hernandez said she has yet to receive a response from CRMC and never got any offer of financial assistance. The only correspondence she has received after her release from the hospital has been her bills and a letter stating she did not qualify for the hospital’s charitable care program.

No savings left Hernandez said she believes she would have been in a better situation now if she had more savings before she got COVID more than three years ago. She said she did have savings, but she had to burn through those savings when her father, who lived in California, passed and her grandmother, also in California, passed a month later. Between several trips to California and multiple funeral services, she said she had little savings remaining when she got sick.

“My dad’s burial cost took all my savings, everything, because I just wanted my dad to lay in peace, you know, I wanted to bury my father, and that took all my savings,” she said.

“It’s just like a train of events, such an unfortunate train of events in life that people go through. Everybody goes through it, and that was mine. I said, ‘Man, if I would have had all that money held just a little bit longer, I would not be in this right now.’”

#long covid #mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #public health #still coviding #wear a respirator #covid conscious #covid is airborne #covidー19 #covid isn't over #covid pandemic #covid19

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