#and at the same time she couldn't forgive him for the grief he caused her mother and HERSELF

[what-breaks-my-heart]

[jetii]

Promises Made (pt. 1/3)

Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 5,234 / 23,314

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, themes of grief/death/mourning, protective!Crosshair, everyone is bad at feelings, this part is at least 50% bickering, smut in part 3

Summary: Crosshair is back, and you're the only one who still can't seem to forgive him. When you finally have the lead you've been seeking since the extinction of the Jedi, you seize the opportunity to escape the constant turmoil his presence causes you. Of course, Crosshair has other plans.

A/N: This is my longest work yet, so I decided to split it up into parts. But if you’re just here for the smut, don’t worry, the emotional edging is worth it! It’s my first time writing Crosshair so please let me know how I’m doing.🤞 Part two will be posted same time next week.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“I’ll be back before you know it.” You pat Omega’s head, smiling warmly down at the young girl as she clings to you. It hurt to leave her again, but you were going to be gone for a few days at most, not weeks.

Still, her grip doesn’t let up, and her gaze is turned downwards. Things had slowly gone back to normal since you all returned to Pabu from Barton IV, with the exception of Omega’s reluctance to let any of you out of her sight. 

That, and how Crosshair had been acting, which was to say he was avoiding you at all costs.

That was fine with you. The others may have forgiven him, but you weren't so ready to let bygones be bygones. You could tolerate being in the same room as him, but that was as far as you were willing to go. At least until you could figure out why you were still so upset.

And it was frustrating, not being able to put your finger on the cause of your irritation. Crosshair hadn't apologized, but you expected as much. He wasn't the type. You had already forgiven him for betraying the team and refusing to come back, but something was still keeping you from completely letting go.

It was unbecoming of a Jedi, you knew that, but you couldn't shake off your resentment.

It didn't help that his behavior was confusing. The day you got back, the others had gone about their usual routine. But not Crosshair. He was more quiet and standoffish than ever, but it didn't seem directed at anyone. It was almost like he was uncomfortable, and not just in general, but with being around you.

You knew he was spending most of his time by the water, though you never saw him when you went out there yourself. Just his rifle, sitting on the rocks.

The others insisted it was a good sign that he was taking the time to process everything. You didn't have the heart to tell them that you could still sense him through the Force whenever you went out, and his unrest was clear. The tremble of his hand, his uneven breaths, his mind racing, all of it.

The only other time you felt him was when you were alone in your room. You were trying to meditate when he walked past. You could feel his eyes on you, could feel him hesitating at the door, before he ultimately chose to move on.

The thought of confronting him made you anxious. You didn't know what would happen, and you didn't know if you wanted to find out. 

For now, you just wanted to keep your distance and get your anger under control. Leaving for a few days to take care of your own problems will give you the space you need, and hopefully, things will go back to normal once you get back.

"Omega?" you ask, trying to get her attention. She finally looks up at you, and you see the concern in her eyes. Your heart aches, and you kneel down, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I know,” she finally whispers.

She doesn't want you to leave. But you were.

The mission would only take a day or two, and then you'd be back. One of your old contacts had called in, saying that she had some intel you needed. You didn't have the full story, but that wasn't going to stop you from dropping everything to answer. You'd been waiting over a year for a call like this, and you needed to see it through on your own.

So you kneel, meeting Omega eye to eye. You hold out your little finger, and she sighs, unmoving. You wiggle it, drawing a soft laugh from the girl.

You’d taught her how to pinky swear not long after you rejoined the Batch. It was a sort of tradition between you and your Master, and him and his, and so on. 

The promise was more sacred than a verbal one to you, even if it was more juvenile than others. It meant that the person who sealed the deal was obligated to fulfill their promise, or face a lifetime of bad luck. 

Of course, you never believed that part, but you liked the sentiment behind the gesture.

"I promise I'll be back," you whisper, "don't finish Spaceworld without me, okay?"

"Okay," Omega mumbles, a weak smile on her lips. She takes your pinky with hers, and the two of you shake. "You promise you'll be safe?"

"Always," you tell her, low and serious.

Hunter watches the exchange, nodding his approval. He doesn't understand the point of the ritual, but he knows enough to know that Omega feels better. And that you'd keep your word.

Your eyes meet his and he nods, silently telling you to hurry and get going. You straighten and turn toward the Marauder, your bag slung over your shoulder, and start off.

Before you can step foot on the ramp, a voice stops you in your tracks, and your blood runs cold.

“You’re leaving?”

Crosshair steps out from under the shadow of the archway behind you, and you spin around. His eyes narrow when you face him, his hands clenched tightly around his rifle. He stands stiff, as though waiting for a fight.

You're surprised by his presence, surprised he's even talking to you, but your expression doesn't betray the shock. Your brow furrows as you regard him, trying to figure out his angle.

“I’m meeting up with a contact for a mission. I won't be gone long. Two days, maybe less, if everything goes according to plan." 

You don't want to explain further, and your tone leaves no room for argument. But Crosshair has never been one to listen to what you want.

He takes a step forward, his eyes flitting over to Hunter for a brief moment, before looking at you again.

"Who's going with you?"

You frown. "What does it matter?"

"Who's going with you?" he repeats the question, slower, a hint of anger lacing his words.

You're silent for a moment, trying to figure out his ulterior motive. You didn't want to tell him, but if he wasn't going to give up, it might just be easier.

"No one," you answer, the words spilling out. "Just me."

The second the words leave your lips, you know you've said the wrong thing. Crosshair's expression morphs into one of fury, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed.

"You’re letting her go alone?” he asks, turning toward Hunter with an accusatory look. You bristle at the remark, the need to defend yourself growing stronger.

Hunter sighs, running a hand through his hair. He glances at you, and you stare back. You were determined to handle this alone, and while Hunter didn't like it, he understood. So you'd made a deal, the same one you made with Omega, that you'd return quickly and come back alive.

He gives a subtle nod, and you return it.

“I’m not ‘letting her’ do anything. She's an adult, she can do whatever she wants," he answers, crossing his arms. Crosshair's head snaps toward him, his mouth open, but Hunter cuts him off, "Besides, she said she could handle it, and I believe her."

Hunter's words should have made you happy, should have filled you with a sense of pride, but instead all you feel is dread.

If Crosshair had looked angry before, he was downright furious now. His expression morphs from shock to frustration, and his glare shifts from Hunter to you.

You're taken aback by the change. Crosshair had never looked at you like that, not even when he left the squad and you behind.

The look is gone before you can question it, replaced by a steely resolve. He stalks past you, his shoulder brushing yours as he climbs the ramp of the ship.

He doesn't say anything else, doesn't even spare a glance in your direction, and you stare after him, mouth agape, until you realize what he's doing.

"Absolutely not," you snarl, stomping up the ramp behind him. You move to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs you off. "You are not coming with me. I don't want or need your help."

Crosshair ignores your protests, dropping into the copilot's seat. He begins going over the controls, his brow furrowed.

"I don't remember inviting you," you snap. "Get out."

"Don't you mean thank you?" He doesn't turn to look at you, doesn't even spare a glance, as he answers.

"I will thank you when you leave," you seethe. You take a step forward, reaching for his shoulder again. You want him out, and if you have to drag him off the ship, you will.

But he's quicker than you, spinning around to catch your wrist. His hand trembles slightly as he holds it, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before he releases you.

"You're welcome."

He turns away again, focusing on the control panel, and you growl, frustrated. You can feel your anger bubbling beneath the surface, and you know if you don't calm down, it'll spill over.

"Cross," you start, slowly, trying to keep the venom from your voice, "I don't want you to come with me."

"And I don't want you to leave, but here we are."

He doesn't sound angry anymore, doesn't sound anything, really, but his tone still sets you on edge.

"Look, I know you don't like it, but--"

"Then don't go," he interrupts, his fingers gripping the armrests.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was pointless. He isn’t listening to a word you’re saying, and the longer you argue, the longer it will take for you to get off world. If you don’t get going soon, you’ll be late.

"Fine," you hiss, moving to the pilot's seat. "Do whatever you want."

"Good," he replies, his tone sharp. He leans back in the chair, his arms crossed. 

You buckle in and begin the startup sequence, ignoring him. You try to focus on the task at hand, but his presence is distracting, and it takes you a minute longer than usual to finish prepping the ship.

He's still tense, and so are you, but the tension is different. It's uncomfortable, the atmosphere too quiet and too loud all at once. Neither of you speak, and the only sounds are those of the Marauder starting up and the distant chatter of the others outside.

You focus on getting the ship into the air, and Crosshair stares at the ceiling. When you've cleared the planet, you set the coordinates and the ship jumps into hyperspace.

The silence continues. You hate it. You hate how tense things have been, how awkward, how strained.

You don't like him, not anymore, and he's made it clear he doesn't like you, but you were stuck with each other now. You were on a mission, and you didn't have time to sit and stew in your emotions.

"I have a job to do," you say, finally breaking the silence. "It's nothing major, just an exchange. Intel for credits. If you're going to come, then don't get in my way."

Crosshair says nothing, and you don't turn to look at him, but you hear him shift in his seat, the fabric rustling.

"Fine," he responds after some time, his voice quiet. "So what are they giving you?"

You glance over at him, startled by his sudden interest, and you're not sure how to respond. He stares back, his face blank, his expression carefully neutral. It's hard to read him, and while you can't sense any negative emotion from him, you don't trust it.

You fidget, wringing your hands in your lap. This was a bad idea. You shouldn't have told him. He was going to judge you for it, or worse, mock you.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words don't come out. What were you supposed to tell him? The truth?

No.

"Doesn't matter," you murmur, turning away from him.

You wish he'd let the conversation drop. You weren't ready for him to know. You weren't even sure if he'd understand.

"It obviously does, or you wouldn't be this worked up about it," he counters. His voice is quiet, but his tone is firm.

"I'm not worked up." You cross your arms, staring out the viewport.

"Sure you're not." 

You can practically hear him roll his eyes, and it makes you angrier.

"I'm not!"

"Okay, okay. Just calm down."

"Stop telling me what to do," you growl, shooting a glare in his direction.

"Stop being so stubborn, and I will."

"Why do you even care, anyway?”

He flinches slightly, and you can see his expression soften as you hold his gaze, watching as he searches for a response. It takes him a second, and you observe in real time as the walls go back up, his face morphing into a neutral mask.

"I don't."

"Then stop acting like it," you say, rolling your eyes.

He tenses at your words, and he doesn't respond right away. You think he's finally dropped the subject, but he pushes further, his tone cold. "Why do you need it?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're my business,” he says, quick and sharp.

Then, his eyes widen, and his mouth snaps closed. He's clearly as surprised by his response as you are, and the two of you stare at each other in silence, your heart pounding.

"Oh." 

You're not sure what else to say. The two of you aren't friends, aren't anything, but the weight of his statement doesn't go unnoticed.

You can't figure out if he means it.

You're not sure what to think.

"I mean..." he starts, but doesn't finish. He looks away, clearing his throat. 

"It's fine," you interrupt, not wanting to make things more awkward. The tension is back, and you hate it, but at least you've reached an understanding.

There's nothing between you, not anymore.

Crosshair's quiet, and you're grateful for the silence. You take a deep breath, letting the air out slowly. You'd have time to unpack that later, but right now you had to focus on the mission. You could worry about him when this was over.

After a moment, he turns toward you, his gaze flitting over your face. He doesn't look mad, and his expression is almost pensive.

Finally, he sighs.

"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?" he asks, watching you carefully.

You shake your head. "You’ll find out when I get it."

He stares at you for a long time, his eyes narrowed. Finally, he huffs, slumping back in his seat. His resignation is a relief, and you breathe a small sigh.

"I have to ask," you begin, eager to change the subject, "what was the point of that little display?"

He raises a brow, glancing over at you. "Display?"

"With Hunter," you elaborate, "back there. I assume it wasn't just to annoy me."

He smirks, the corner of his lips curling upward. He tilts his head, and you try not to think about how it's the first time he's looked at you that way since everything happened.

"I was mostly doing it to annoy you."

"Of course you were." You roll your eyes. You don't believe him, not entirely, but you didn't doubt that he wanted to get under your skin. It felt like that was all he'd done since the beginning, and it was getting tiresome.

"But," he begins, leaning back, "if I can't talk you out of doing this, the least I can do is make sure you have backup."

You stare at him, unsure of how to respond. Your mouth opens, then closes, and you blink several times. What were you supposed to say to that?

"That's... sweet, I guess?" You don't mean for it to come out as a question, but the surprise gets the best of you.

He rolls his eyes and shrugs, and you're reminded of the old Crosshair.

The Crosshair who used to tease you, to rile you up, just because he knew it would make you laugh. The Crosshair who would sit with you while you studied, who would make you food when you were too tired to do it yourself. The one who loved his brothers fiercely, even if he was a pain in the ass. The one that you, despite everything, missed.

You didn't think he was capable of being like that anymore, but here he was, proving you wrong.

"Well," he says, shifting uncomfortably, "It’s my job to keep an eye on you."

You can't help but chuckle at his reasoning, though there's a hint of bitterness to the sound, and his scowl returns.

"It's not funny."

"Oh, come on," you reply, crossing your arms, still laughing. "It's a little funny."

"Is not," he argues, but there's no heat to it.

You snicker, shaking your head. It's not funny, but it's nice. Normal, even. It's the most normal conversation you've had in a long time, and the most normal Crosshair has acted, and it's almost like things are the way they were before.

"Whatever you say, dear." 

The pet name slips out without a thought, and you regret it the second it does. You wince, looking over at him. You hope he doesn't take it the wrong way, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just scoffs, a small smile playing on his lips.

You relax in your chair, letting the tension slip from your body. You'd almost forgotten what it was like, how easy things used to be. It felt good, and you wished you could keep that feeling.

"So," you begin, "are you going to be a good boy while we're there, or am I going to have to watch my back?"

"I'm always a good boy," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You can't help but laugh, and his lips twitch upward, a hint of smugness coloring his features. It's an old joke, and it's ridiculous, but it feels good. You didn't think he had it in him, and hearing his sarcasm again was a welcome surprise.

"We both know that's not true."

"You'd be surprised." He stands, stretching his arms over his head. When he lowers them, he looks at you again, a faint smirk on his lips. "I can be very good, when I want to be.”

He brushes his fingers across your shoulder as he walks past, and the simple touch sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help the heat that rises to your face, and you're thankful that he's turned away from you.

You're left in a daze, your mind racing. You didn't think he was capable of having a civil conversation with you, let alone flirting. And yet here you were, trying desperately not to think about the implications behind his words.

It reminded you of before, before everything had gone to shit. Back when he could make you laugh in just a few words and make you blush with even less. He’d tease and flirt and push all your buttons, and it drove you crazy.

And you loved it.

You thought maybe you loved him too, at some point.

But he had thrown all that away when he abandoned the team. He had tossed aside every moment of laughter and affection and friendship, and he'd never seemed to care. And maybe that's what hurt the most, knowing he'd so easily let go of whatever it was between the two of you.

You'd tried not to think about him, after he left. You'd thrown yourself into the missions, and you'd tried not to look back. The others had done the same, you thought, but when Crosshair came back into your lives, they had forgiven him.

So why was it so hard for you?

The answer was supposed to be easy. You’d been the one he’d tried to kill, after all. But you knew it wasn’t his fault, knew it was the chip. You wanted to forgive him, and in a way, you had, but it still hurt.

Maybe it was because he had hurt you, not physically, but in another way. A deeper way. He had left you. He had abandoned the team, and he had left you behind, and despite ample opportunities, he'd refused to come back.

Or maybe it was because, after all that, after he'd hurt you and the people you cared about, you still couldn't bring yourself to hate him.

Maybe, deep down, you were worried that part of you still loved him.

Your head was spinning. You needed a drink, or a nap, or a distraction.

"Where are you going?" you call after him.

"To make sure Omega didn't sneak aboard," he calls back.

You can’t help but smile, shaking your head. He'd never admit it, but he cared about her. He'd probably deny it to his dying breath, if asked, but you knew better. And as you watch him disappear down the hall, a strange feeling blooms in your chest.

It's warm, and light, and familiar.

And for a brief moment, things almost feel right again.

Crosshair is, for lack of a better word, insufferable. He doesn't listen to a word you say, doesn't follow your directions, and has a bad habit of doing the opposite of what you tell him to do.

He also has a knack for making you feel like an idiot. It was something you conveniently forgotten about during your time apart, and now, you were beginning to remember why you'd fought so much in the past.

And the worst part was, he wasn't even trying to piss you off.

He was just...himself.

"That's not how it's done," he sneers, leaning against the wall. His eyes are on your hands, watching you clean your blaster. You know this game, and you don't want to play. So you do the one thing that always seems to get under his skin.

You ignore him.

You pretend like you haven't heard him, and you continue with your task. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don't look up. He sighs and huffs as you wipe around the trigger mechanism, he crosses his arms as you check the power cell, and you know he's getting antsy.

It isn't until you wet a swatch with solvent and push it through the barrel from front to back, and Crosshair makes a noise of disgust, that you snap.

"What?" you bark, your grip on the weapon tightening. You're not angry, not yet, but you can feel it creeping up on you.

“You’re going to damage the rifling,” he says, pushing off the wall. He reaches for the weapon, but you pull it out of his reach.

"I know what I'm doing."

"Clearly." He rolls his eyes. “If you keep doing that, you’re going to to end up with a misfire or a malfunction, and I don’t think either of us want that. Do you?"

You know he's right, but you don't want to admit it. "No, but—"

"Then give me the damn blaster," he says, reaching out again.

You consider refusing, just to prove a point, but his tone has caught you off guard. He doesn't sound condescending, or mocking, or even annoyed.

He sounds worried.

So you hand it over, and he takes it, his fingers brushing against yours.

"Just let me do it, alright?" he asks, and the frustration in his voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

You nod, watching as he sits next to you, his attention on the weapon. His movements are confident, practiced, and you can't help but notice the way his fingers move as he cleans.

You watch as he sets the blaster aside, grabbing the canister of solvent and a rag. Crosshair's movements are quick and meticulous, and he doesn't miss a spot. What took you nearly twenty minutes to accomplish, he completes in five, and his technique is far more thorough than yours.

“It’s a miracle you haven’t blown your hand off yet," he says, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “If this is what the Jedi were teaching you, no wonder the Empire wiped them out."

Any good will you were feeling toward him disappears in an instant. You bristle, your anger returning, and you glare at him.

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later," he teases, his lips twitching upwards.

You can't decide if his comment was meant to piss you off or annoy you, and you settle for a combination of the two. You're not sure why you expected anything else from him, but the joke hits a sore spot. The fact that he doesn't realize what he's said, that he doesn't understand what he's done, only makes it worse.

Crosshair's smile falls when you continue glaring despite the flush in your cheeks, and you can sense his frustration. He huffs, looking back down at the weapon in his hands.

He's quiet for a long time, his brow furrowed. Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice soft.

"Here," he says, holding the reassembled blaster out, its barrel glistening. It’s the cleanest it's been in months, though you won’t admit it out loud.

Crosshair had always taken great pride in the cleanliness and efficiency of his weapons, and seeing his handiwork in front of you reminds you of simpler times. You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d passed out from exhaustion after a mission or gotten too distracted, only to find your weapons cleaned and ready to go the next morning.

It had irritated you, at first. You hated having your things touched without permission, but eventually, you got used to it. It was nice, knowing he cared enough about you to do such a thing. Though Crosshair always denied it when you tried to thank him. As if it would be anyone other than him.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and it’s genuine.

He looks at you, and there's a flash of something in his eyes, something softer than the usual indifference. But it's gone before you can decipher its meaning.

“Why do you still use that thing, anyway?" he asks. “It's a piece of junk. Don’t you have a lightsaber?”

You suck in a breath, his words cutting deep. Of course he would bring up the one thing you didn't want to talk about. You should have expected it. You weren't sure why it had never come up, but you should have known it would happen eventually.

He's staring at the blaster, and you know he didn't mean to hurt you, not this time, but the ache is there, nonetheless. The grief sinks in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold, and your hands shake. You clench them into fists, hoping to hide the movement.

You've gone quiet for too long, and Crosshair knows he's hit a nerve. He turns his attention to you, and his eyes widen when he sees the look on your face.

You're pale, your expression pained. Your mouth is a thin line, your jaw set, and your shoulders are stiff. “No,” you say, your voice quiet. “Not anymore.”

He frowns. He looks confused, and for a second, he almost looks worried. "What happened?"

“I lost it.”

“What?" His voice sounds incredulous, as if the concept is inconceivable. "When?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears. You'd promised yourself you'd never cry over this again, but it was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought. It hurts, talking about it, and a part of you wants to shut him out. 

But another, bigger, part of you wants him to know. Maybe it's a test, of sorts. If he can't handle this, if he doesn't want to hear the truth, then there's no way he'd be able to handle the rest.

“On Kamino," you say, and your voice shakes, despite your best efforts. You pause, taking a deep breath. You close your eyes, and the memories come back, clear as day. "Around the same time I…” 

You can’t continue, but the words are there, lingering in the air. The same time I lost you.

His mouth forms a silent 'oh', and the room falls silent. You look at the floor, avoiding his eyes, and he does the same. You're not sure how much time passes, but it feels like hours.

He clears his throat, and the sound breaks the spell. You look up, and his eyes are on you, intense and dark. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, and the apology surprises you.

"Don't be." You shrug, but you can't shake the melancholy that's settled over the room.

"You should get a new one," he suggests.

You shake your head. “It wouldn’t be the same.”

Crosshair hums, and he turns away from you. He picks up the cleaning kit and places it back on the shelf. You watch him, wondering if that's the end of the conversation, and a part of you hopes it is.

But when he turns to face you again, his expression is pensive, and his tone is somber.

He sighs, and the weight of his words hit you, his voice quiet.

“You’re not the same, either."

You swallow thickly, unsure how to respond. You’ve had the same thought rolling around in your head for months, but to hear it spoken out loud, to hear it from him, suddenly makes it seem real.

Because he's right.

You aren't the same, not anymore. You hadn't been since the fall of the Order, since Crosshair left, since you'd lost everything. And you couldn't deny the changes that had been wrought within you, no matter how hard you tried.

"Yeah," you say, and the word is heavy on your tongue. “I guess not.”

You stare at each other, and a moment passes. It's an unspoken understanding, an admission, and neither of you can find the right words.

It's then that you realize that maybe he's changed, too.

And that, for whatever reason, makes you sad.

The silence drags on, and you're not sure if he's waiting for you to speak, or if he's waiting for something else. His eyes are searching, his mouth slightly parted, and he looks almost nervous.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and there's a pressure behind your eyes. You want to say something, but you can't think of anything. You're not sure if the urge is to comfort him, or comfort yourself.

You're grateful when you can feel the the hair on the back of your next prickle, a sign of something shifting in the Force. It's a distraction, a welcome one, and you take the opportunity to break eye contact. You stand to make your way to the cockpit, holstering your blaster as you go.

When you reach the door, you pause, glancing back. Crosshair is still standing in the middle of the room, his head tilted in your direction. His eyes are fixed on you, and he looks almost sad.

You swallow thickly and force yourself to speak. “We should be there in a second."

“How do you—“ 

He’s interrupted by the subtle lurch of the ship dropping out of hyperspace, and his confused expression turns to one of exasperation.

You smile, just a little, and Crosshair scoffs.

"Show off," he mutters, following behind you.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (31)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She couldn't believe it, but the measter left her with no illusions − after weeks filled with fear and prayers, a miracle had happened and she was expecting a child.

She knew it was a blessing from the heavens, that some women waited months or even years for their offspring.

She thought with joy that it was a sign that the gods were supporting them and their cause.

That they also did not desire war.

It seemed to her that, despite everything that had happened, her mother was also reassured and pleased by this information − by the thought that perhaps she would give birth to a son who could be declared heir to the throne and bring a solution that would at least partially satisfy all sides.

The only person who was not pleased by this news was Jace. He was the only one not to congratulate her, and at the common table he pretended not to see her, speaking only to his betrothed.

She realised that their mother, while protecting him all her life, had at the same time weakened him, allowing him to remain immature deep inside while maintaining a semblance of masculinity.

She decided, however, that it no longer mattered.

She eagerly awaited her husband's return, wanting to convey this wonderful news to him in person − she wished to see his reaction and enjoy the moment with him. She gushed with delight when one morning her servant announced that a message had arrived from Harrenhal, hoping that she would read in it when she would see him again.

Her anger at him was now completely passed, replaced by longing and desire to be reunited.

She unrolled the parchment, chewing on the piece of bread she had just had in her mouth, and began to read.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

She swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of discomfort and grief in her guts at the thought that the matter was not yet closed and there was no way of knowing when it would be.

The thought of further separation devastated her.

This made her come up with an idea that her mother did not approve of.

"No. You are carrying your child inside you, I will not let you fly to Harrenhal. It's too dangerous." She communicated to her clearly, shaking her head.

She pressed her lips together at her words, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"The journey to Harrenhal is not long. Who would attack me in the sky? My husband has informed me that the fortress is empty. I will be safe there. He is there to prove his loyalty to me and you."

Daemon chuckled at her words, shifting from foot to foot, amused.

"He's fixing something he destroyed himself. If he had said what he knows instead of playing with us, I would have taken care of the matter myself, and Larys Strong's head would have greeted visitors to Harrenhal on a spike." He said coldly, staring at her expectantly. She looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was what they were discussing then, on the seashore.

Daemon knew of what was about to happen to them and Aemond had thwarted his plans.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

"I…−"

"− I'll fly with you −" She heard Baela's voice and raised her gaze to her, surprised. Jace moved beside her uneasily.

"− what are you doing? −"

"− I've never seen Harrenhal − I'll make sure my cousin got there safely, rest a day or two in the fortress and return to Dragonstone −" Baela said without heeding her betrothed's impatient, furtive gaze.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, turning her head away, clearly frustrated that her daughter wanted to leave her family home, which she felt was the safest place possible for her.

"− if you lose this child −"

"− I won't lose it − I'll look out for myself − it'll be easier for me to calm down when I'm by his side knowing what's happening −" She explained, looking at her with a certainty from which her mother sighed heavily.

She and Baela set off before dawn the next day. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes at the thought that her child was leaving her again.

"− watch out for yourself − you are my only daughter −" She muttered with regret and pulled away, placing a lingering, warm, tender motherly kiss on her forehead.

She glanced at Daemon, who stood in the distance − he was looking at her with his chin raised high, as proud and filled with mockery as always. He nodded as if he accepted her choice, the fact that she had done what he demanded.

She had made a manly decision with all its consequences.

She was her husband's wife.

Flying in the skies alongside Baela and Moondancer, she wondered why she had never done this before; her cousin's dragoness was as beautiful and agile as Larax, her scales shining wonderfully in the light of the rising sun.

She was grateful to Baela for offering to fly with her − her company calmed her and gave her strength, a sense that she wasn't treating her like a traitor, that she was trying to understand her and help her as much as she could.

She thought with pain that if she had opened her heart to her earlier, they would have been close friends for years.

She hoped in her mind that they would make up for lost time when at last the succession issue would be finally resolved.

When peace would reign.

The journey to Harrenhal on the dragon's back proved to be quick and pleasant − they landed just outside the fortress when the sun was already lazily rising in the sky.

She couldn't stop the wide smile that appeared on her face, the rapid pounding of her heart or the trembling of her hands as she slid from her saddle and saw her husband step out of the stronghold gates to meet them, looking at her from afar.

She felt what she had experienced when she saw him for the first time after eight years then, in the courtyard of the Red Keep, when he was duelling with Criston Cole.

She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and whisper how much she missed him.

This time he didn't turn away, and she didn't hold back.

She laughed as she felt her legs begin to carry her forward on their own, her body filled with warm affection and emotion at the sight of his pain-filled disbelief.

As she fell into his arms, as she smelled his familiar scent again, she felt his hands catch her under her hips and lift her high. She threw her arms around his neck, her legs entwined around his waist as their lips came out to meet each other, locking in a sticky, messy, hot kiss from which they both sighed quietly.

She squirmed when she felt his tongue slide deep into her mouth, rubbing her palate, her walls clenched greedily as his throbbing manhood slapped against her lower abdomen, betraying how great his longing actually was.

She pulled away from him, breathing loudly as he did, wanting to look at him and noticed his hazy, dark gaze filled with desire, his lips, puffy from their caresses parted.

She sighed when his broad hand stroked her head and pressed her forehead against his, only to have their lips join again a moment later in a soft, warm kiss with a loud click of their saliva.

Only after a moment did she remember that she had not come alone.

She grunted quietly, pulling away from him − her husband glanced sideways and furrowed his brow, setting her back down on the ground, clearly unhappy with what he saw before him.

Their cousin stood a few steps behind her, smiling at her uncle with feigned affection and mockery, from which his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Baela accompanied me on the journey for my safety. Mother did not want me to fly to Harrenhal alone." She said quickly, wanting to calm the situation and what was surely just going on inside his head.

She saw him glance at her quickly at her words, as if surprised. He hummed under his breath and nodded − his expression softened, as if he recognised that this was indeed the right decision.

"I am grateful to you for your sacrifice, cousin. I will order a chamber to be prepared for you." He announced coolly and matter-of-factly − their cousin nodded, still smiling.

She knew she was trying to bring him out of balance, but there was nothing she could do with it.

As one of the servants took Baela to her quarters, her husband looked at her and licked his lower lip with his tongue, as if he was thinking deeply about something.

"− I must speak to you in private −"

"− I need to speak to you too −" She said cheerfully.

She was so eager to share this joyful news with him.

She closed the door behind her as soon as they crossed the threshold of his chamber, ready to tell him, but he grabbed her violently by the shoulder and turned her towards him, slamming her back against the wall.

She squealed when his lips pressed against hers as if he wanted to devour her, his tongue invading deep into her throat with his loud sigh on the edge of pain and relief.

"− w-wait − uncle − I must −" She mumbled as his hand clamped down impatiently on her breasts and his hips began to rub against her stomach − his manhood was all hard and swollen beneath his breeches, and the very thought made her feel the wonderful, familiar wetness between her thighs.

"− were you touching yourself? −" He breathed out into her mouth, as if he was in amok and hadn't heard her words, his hands trailing from her hair, down her neck, to her breasts and buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for so much.

"− I − y-yes − gods, Aemond −" She gasped in pleasure as one of his hands slid deep between her thighs − his fingers dug into her womanhood hidden beneath the fabric of her breeches, teasing and squeezing it, making her nipples harden all over with desire.

Only a sigh escaped her lips as he turned her with her face against the wall, his moist tongue running over her thrill-warmed neck, his twitching cock pressed against the place between her buttocks.

"− me too − every day −" He hummed into her ear, untying her breeches with his long, nimble fingers − she involuntarily pressed her cheek against the wall understanding and desiring whatever was about to happen, her fleshy insides clenching desperately around nothing.

"− morning and evening − thinking of this tight little cunt −" He gasped with delight, running his fingertips over her soft, plushy folds as he spoke the words, satisfied apparently that she was completely ready for him.

"− as always sticky and warm for her husband − hm? −" He hummed, sliding her breeches down with a single, sure flick of his hand.

She swallowed hard, feeling her thighs and what was between them being enveloped by the cool air of the room, her heart thumping like mad as she heard him try to deal with the material of his garment behind her back, his hot breath teasing her neck again and again.

"− yes − ah −" She mumbled when she felt him grab her with his arm around her waist and pull her hips closer, forcing her to buck her buttocks and bend over.

Pathetic, helpless moan broke from her throat when she felt how swollen the head of his cock was, with what difficulty he tried to force it between her slick, hot, puffy walls.

"− fuck − fuck −" He exhaled, with impatient thrusts of his hips invading deeper and deeper into her warm core, spreading her open on his fat erection.

She gasped, clenching her eyes shut, trying to keep her balance by leaning against the wall in front of her and fit what he was trying to force into her − she thought in disbelief that it seemed more swollen to her than usual, she could feel exactly every vein of it rubbing again and again the wonderful spot inside her.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mewled, moaning like a mere whore as he began to pound into her without any warning, opening her wide again and again on his throbbing cock with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

She felt her wetness run down her thighs − she knew he had seen it because she heard his low groan of pleasure.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He breathed out, leaning forward, slamming into her again and again as brutally and quickly as if he'd lost his mind − he leaned one of his hands against the wall just above her head, the other clenching at the same time on her hip, forcing her to take what he was giving her.

She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the tickling, hot sensation building up in her lower abdomen at a startlingly rapid pace, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts, meeting him halfway, clenching around his manhood, refusing to let him go.

Her nipples swelled wonderfully as she felt him press his face against her hair, as if he was drawn to her scent, groaning and panting along with her, thrusting into her so fast and deep that he was hardly sliding out of her.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He uttered with a heavy breath, and she felt that it was over for her − her body shook with a wonderful, tickling shudder that she felt in her mouth, in her fingertips, in her nipples and in her weeping cunt, which began to suck him inside her in an fulfilment so strong that for a moment she saw darkness before her eyes. She heard his surprised gasp of pleasure, followed by his loud sigh of relief.

She felt his hot seed fill her womb again, his hips rocking inside her for a moment longer, his face pressed into her neck, as if he wanted to prolong this wonderful moment.

They both couldn't catch their breath, panting and quivering, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her from slipping to the stone floor.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, and she sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily, tired and fulfilled.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together into a thin line, for some reason feeling a squeeze in her throat, a wonderful elation at the thought that he craved her presence so much, that he missed her as much as she missed him.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed and heard him sigh in relief, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her neck.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, as if he didn't want to bother himself with this topic, having her at his fingertips again. She smiled at his question, placing her hand on his arm, with which he embraced her at the waist.

Her heart sang with joy.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

She felt him freeze behind her, his breath caught in his throat.

"− what? −" He muttered, as if he thought he had overheard himself and needed her to say those wonderful words again.

She smiled under her breath feeling that, for the first time in months, happiness and hope filled her. With a soft movement, she grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand on her lower abdomen, pressing it against her bare skin. She heard him swallow loudly, taken aback in disbelief.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −" She hummed, turning to face him over her shoulder − her breath caught in her throat when she heard him laugh.

It was not a mocking or cold sound, more an expression of joyful disbelief, there was a warmth and happiness in his gaze from which she felt moved.

She felt the tips of his fingertips dig into the soft skin of her stomach, his lips found hers in a greedy, wet, deep kiss, his half-soft manhood pulsed deep inside her again.

"− Rhaenys − oh gods − this must be a dream −" He breathed out into her mouth, slipping his slick tongue deep into her throat, panting with delight − her walls squeezed him tight with pleasure as she felt him involuntarily begin to root into her again with the tentative, soft thrusts of his hips.

"− then it is a good dream −" She whispered tenderly into his mouth and he murmured loudly, saying no more.

This time, knowing she was expecting his child, he took her to his bed, wanting to look at her face and what he was doing to her, panting into her mouth at how much she pleased him, how well she did, already carrying his offspring in her womb.

He pulled their garments off of them, ripping his eye patch from his face, wanting to be vulnerable with her, wanting to be exposed with her.

She knew what she was to him at that moment.

A dragon egg that had cracked.

As his swollen manhood pushed against her moist slit again, he slid into her with ease, slowly and unhurriedly this time, merely rocking his hips back and forth inside her, making her lips part in delight at how gentle and tender the experience was.

His cheek snuggled into her hair and his face sank into the pillow under her head as if he didn't want her to see the expression on his face, how much pleasure he was getting from this soft intimacy.

They both moaned shyly as he slowly began to accelerate his pace, each time slapping his bare skin against her buttocks − her lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on his bare shoulder and neck, her hands ran down his back and buttocks making his soaked cock pulsate impatiently deep inside her.

"− I've missed you −" She whispered, answered by his low sigh, his hand blindly finding her breast and squeezing it lightly, as if the sensation of that plump, soft structure under his fingers gave him a sense of security and reassured him.

"− me too −" He muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, a lazy smile filled with happiness spread across her face as she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

When it was all over, her husband, all breathless and sweaty, laid his head on her womb, facing her, looking down at her belly, running the tips of his fingers over it as if he was thinking about what was hiding under her skin.

"− how did you find out? − are you absolutely sure? −" He whispered, as if doubts were beginning to invade him, as if he feared it was too beautiful to be true. She sighed quietly at his words, the smile never leaving her face.

"− I fainted and was examined by the maester − I am sure −"

At her words her uncle furrowed his brow, raising the gaze of his healthy eye at her, his sapphire shone dangerously in the sunlight.

"− you fainted? −"

"− yes − I despaired because I didn't know when or if I would see you again −" She mumbled in embarrassment, combing his long, snow-white hair with her fingers. He closed his eye and murmured contentedly, opening his eyelid again after a moment.

"− if you had only written to me − I would have flown to Dragonstone immediately −"

"− I was afraid my message would fall into the wrong hands − I didn't want to take the risk −"

Her husband hummed at her words.

"− wise girl −"

She smiled, letting him place a warm, moist kiss on the skin of her lower abdomen.

"− I have a gift for you −" He murmured, running his fingers over the hot skin of her stomach. She looked at him, surprised, her heart beating harder in excitement.

"What's it?" She asked, curious.

"I give Harrenhal into your possession. I hand it over to you in my letter, which I have already sent to King's Landing. The fortress is your property until your death. It will then fall as a inheritance to our offspring."

She blinked, twisting in her place, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing that he grinned, she covered her mouth and giggled like a little girl, unable to contain the joy and warmth that spread through her body.

"Do you mean it?" She mumbled, unable to believe that he could do such a thing without consulting his brother and mother.

That he had made this decision alone.

Her husband hummed under his breath, trailing his fingers from her lower abdomen to her chest making goosebumps appear in the places he ran over her bare skin.

"You are your father's daughter. This is your legacy." He replied, his wide hand stroking her belly with a tenderness from which shivers ran through her.

"And my brothers?" She muttered, reminding herself that, after all, her father, although she didn't know him very well, had sons too. Her uncle smirked at her in a way that was disturbing, to say the least.

"I don't give a shit about your brothers." He sneered, making her swallow hard, wrinkling her eyebrows but unable to hide the smile of amusement from which his face lit up.

"You're cruel." She mumbled, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her fingers, softening her words and their overtones in the process. Her husband snorted at her words.

"I am. I am a walking cruelty." He whispered maliciously before he lifted himself on his hands, moving towards her, leaning over her face − his tongue invaded deep between her lips with his hum as his mouth pressed against hers in a loud, sticky, messy kiss.

She squirmed as his fingers slid from her womb between her thighs, warningly beginning to tease and squeeze her sore bud, puffy from earlier caresses and fulfillments.

"− uncle −" She mewled weakly into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tickle in her lower abdomen again, tentatively parting her thighs apart, his half-hard erection slapping impatiently against her belly, demanding her attention.

"− I warned you −" He exhaled, shifting the weight of his body to his elbow, spreading her legs apart with his knee. "− open −"

She obeyed his command obediently and whimpered loudly with exertion as she felt him try to force his long, throbbing manhood into her again with the impatient thrust of his hips.

She threw her head back as he finally broke between her oversensitive, swollen walls, pulsing around him in panic, her short nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as he began to sink into her again, panting with pleasure.

She felt her moisture mingled with his seed ran down her buttocks.

"− too much −" She mumbled out, moaning each time he teased the sore, swollen spot deep inside her again, trying to pull out of him at the same time and bucking her hips in response to his thrusts, feeling both the discomfort and the wonderful, tickling pleasure shaking her body.

"− shhh − I know − we'll take it slow − there's no reason to rush −" He whispered tenderly, placing comforting, soft, warm kisses on her face, leaning on one forearm, his other hand stroking her effort-warmed cheek, as if trying to give her reassurance.

"− I warned you − I warned you that I wouldn't pull it out of you today − didn't I? − is your husband lying? −" He cooed, as if he were speaking to a small, frightened child. She shook her head, struggling to fit him deep inside her again and again, feeling his thighs hit her buttocks with loud splats of their shared wetness.

"− n-no − no, husband −" She mumbled, looking up at him pleadingly, running her hand over his scarred cheek, her puffy lips parted in heavy breaths. He gasped with satisfaction at her words, pressing his forehead against hers, with slow, deep thrusts making his way to his next fulfilment.

"− just like that − let me do my duty to my wife − as many times − ah − as necessary −" He exhaled, quickening his pace, swollen and already completely hard deep inside her, slamming into her with greedy, sure thrusts from which she felt like she was losing touch with reality, the chamber around them, the bed she lay on seemed blurred to her, she could only smell his scent, only feel the strong grip of his hands.

"− g-gods, Aemond −’" She mumbled out, feeling the way his bare chest pressed against hers with his low groan of satisfaction, her nipples rubbing against his exposed skin with his every push making his cock pulsate aggressively inside her with pleasure, intensifying her sensation.

She gasped when she felt him grab her thigh and lift her leg higher, putting her knee on his shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"− uncle, what are you − o-oh, fuck, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle −" She whined out, tilting her head back with her lips parted in disbelief, her eyes closed with her loud, shameless moans as she felt him like never before, his entire length pressing wonderfully against a place inside her with each of his thrusts, from which her body quivered all over with pleasure, writhing before him.

Nothing more than a babble and a plea left her lips as he watched her in awe, not slowing his pace, placing hot, sticky kisses on her knee, stroking her thigh with his wide hand, panting loudly along with her.

Something like a smirk of satisfaction flashed across his face as she threw her other leg over his shoulder on the other side of his head, his body leaning over her in such a way that she could in no way escape his brutal thrusts, which again and again teased the intensely oversensitive spot inside her.

"− I can't − I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, p-please −" She cried out, but her husband didn't stop, bringing her to a state where pleasure different than usual took her speechless − she felt a sudden, wonderful relief, her walls began to squeeze and suck him inside her, she heard him hiss quietly, clearly feeling what she was feeling.

He groaned low as he came a moment later, clenching his eye, panting hard and swallowing loudly as he looked down at the sheets beneath them, under which a huge wet spot had formed.

"− did I hurt you? or the baby? −" He exhaled horrified, thinking that perhaps she had miscarried due to his brutal treatment, however there was no blood after all. She shook her head, rising on her elbow, struggling to collect her thoughts, panting loudly, her body quivering all over.

"− no − b-but − this time − it was different − I mean − my fulfilment was different − and then I felt...this −" She muttered in shame, feeling that her whole buttocks were wet. Her uncle swallowed hard at her words, embarrassed, his lips tightened into a thin line as he looked at their sticky bodies.

"− I − I think I read about it − in one of the books −" He said uncertainly and grunted softly, sliding out of her gently with a click of their shared wetness. She hissed quietly, pulling away and noticed a large, colourless stain under her buttocks, as if someone had poured water there.

"− the maester wrote in it that a woman is also able to − well − come as well as a man if she is properly… teased inside −" He hummed, licking his lower lip involuntarily, looking at the stain beneath them as if he was proud of his achievement.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and giggled involuntarily, feeling some kind of relief.

"− what kind of books do you read, uncle? − what would your mother and Ser Criston say? −" She sneered, smiling broadly. Her husband threw her a frustrated look, which however softened after a moment, his grimace turning into a mischievous smirk.

"− in the same book I also read about this position − after I became your husband I began to delve into the mysteries of these…sensations − what else can I do with you −" He murmured, running his index finger along her thigh, a glint of satisfaction and contentment in his eye from which she sighed heavily.

She leaned back and made herself comfortable on the bedding, shifting her body closer to him so that she wasn't lying on a wet spot. Her uncle leaned on his elbow, watching her intently in silence − they stared at each other for a moment, with only the rustle of leaves and birdsong outside the open window around them.

"− I'd like to rest now −" She muttered, running her knuckles over his bare chest. Her husband hummed quietly under his breath and nodded, his broad hand stroking her head.

"− sleep − rest after the journey −" He murmured, combing his fingers through her hair the way he had when they were children. She closed her eyes and purred softly when she felt him lay his head beside her, his gaze on her face, his warm breath enveloping her cheek as his free hand covered their naked bodies with warm furs.

"− do not fret − your husband is by your side now −"

_____

Author note: Those who were to know know. I promised you, didn't I? Hehehe. 👀👀👀👀👀

[vampykween]

Second Chances (part 2)

summary: little poppy is simon riley’s entire world and you’ve just had yours turned completely upside down. despite everything, it seems like everything falls into place when you’re with each other. cw: mentions of character death a/n: i wanted to dive into Simon and Poppy's backstory with this part so reader isn't really present in this but, i felt like it was important to establish some backstory ☻ this slightly proofread, but forgive me if there are any mistakes wc: 1789 part 1

Although his face doesn't show it, Simon is thrilled listening to Poppy talk his ear off on the walk home from school. He wouldn't dare admit he spent the whole day busying himself with household tasks to keep his mind from wandering to his little girl. As soon as they cross the threshold of their home Poppy is off like a shot, shrugging off her backpack and kicking off her black mary janes. Simon sighs fondly, hangs her backpack up on its hook, and deposits her shoes in their rightful spot on the shoe rack. One day he’ll get her to do it herself, but for now, he’s content with trailing after her and picking up every little thing she drops if it means she’ll always stay this young and innocent. 

When he rounds the corner he’s met with the sight of Poppy scribbling on a large sheet of paper - her brand new box of crayons strewn across the living room table - and the sound of her favorite cartoon; which Simon finds mind-numbing but he grins and watches with her when she asks because he’ll be damned if he doesn't make her feel like the things she likes aren’t important to him. 

“Whatcha working on there, lovie?” Simon asks with genuine curiosity, he hadn't expected her to come home with any work to do already. The young girl gestures to her crafts, “We’re making family trees at school, I’m a little bit stuck though daddy, I don't know who to put on the tree.” She pouts at him from her spot on the floor and Simon is hit with a wave of grief for the life his daughter could’ve had. 

Six years ago 

“Oh my god, Simon, are you even listening to me?!” Amelia snapped in Simon’s face as he zoned out on the couch. His body was firmly planted in their living room, but his mind wasn't. Pregnant. The word bounced around his brain like a pinball machine, he’s suddenly brought back to the present at the sound of his girlfriend's sobbing. 

“God, I'm right in front of you and it’s like we're not even in the same room. I beg you time and time again to just be present with me, and you act like it’s so fucking hard.” Amelia hiccups and frustratedly wipes at her eyes, “if you don't want this tell me now, cause it’s hard enough feeling like you don't even love me, I can't imagine handling you not loving our child either.” 

Simon turns sharply in her direction at her admission, he knows it’s rocky between them he’s no idiot, but to hear her say that he doesn’t love her, or wouldn't love their child fucking tears him up. He takes her hands in his, and tugs gently until she meets his eyes. 

“Em, you have to know that I do love you, and hell I’m scared out of my mind right now, but god please don’t think for a second that I wouldn't love our child.” He pulls her into his arms and strokes her hair gently until her cries subside. 

“I'm so scared Simon, you and I are not okay. What if that never changes?” Amelia asks somberly. She couldn't remember the last time she wasn't griping at Simon for something, or Simon giving her the silent treatment and storming off for hours at a time. She knew a baby wouldn't change that, hell it had been five years already and they still weren’t married. The wishful part of her hoped that Simon would say that he was going to change for good and that they would fix their relationship and become a happy family. 

“We’ll figure it out, I promise yeah?” Simon had a way of looking at her like she was his world and for just a moment Amelia believed that everything would be okay. 

~ 

Unsurprisingly things were not okay, Amelia woke in the middle of the night grasping her large bump in pain. She regrets her decision to make Simon sleep in the guest bedroom because now her options are to attempt to waddle and wake up her boyfriend? Baby daddy? Things were tense and she wasn't sure what they were anymore. The months she’s spent growing their little bundle of joy have been hellish; being pregnant exacerbated Amelia’s growing disdain for Simon and made every transgression seem far worse than ever before. 

“God, Em, just let me do it. I don't need you hurting yourself.” 

“Piss off Simon, I'm not a baby. I can handle building a crib by myself.” 

Simon rolls his eyes but doesn't move from his spot in the doorway. Pretty much any conversation with his girlfriend was an argument waiting to happen. They both swore they would make it work, but it seemed like the longer time went on the more they were at each other’s throats. 

Amelia braves the idea of trying to make it to Simon’s room when a contraction subsides. She trudged down the hallway to his room and pushed on his shoulder roughly to rouse him. 

“Simon. Simon, wake up.” 

“What do ya want,” he questions groggily, still half asleep. 

“The baby’s fucking coming, get up. I'm dying in pain over here.” 

He shoots up at her words, panic settling into his bones as he realizes that this is it. They were about to come home with a baby, they were seriously going to be parents. He smiles brightly at her in the dark room, only slightly lit by the moonlight because Simon still hadn't put up the curtains she asked him to. Amelia wanted to tell him to wipe the stupid grin off his face because she was pissy and in excruciating pain, but a part of her couldn't help but smile too. Maybe they would come home with their little bundle of joy and everything would be different. 

~

The sound of small cries fills the hospital room and Simon is sure he’s never cried so hard in his life. 

“Congratulations, it’s a girl,” the nurse says as she lays the tiny baby on Amelia's chest. She smiles down at their little girl, but it’s wobbly and the color is rapidly draining from her face. Before he could have a second to even bask in, what he’s sure is the best moment of his life, the sound of machines beeping erratically and the flurry of nurses surrounding Amelia has him paralyzed with fear. 

~ 

The sterile smell of the hospital was burning his nostrils with every shaky breath he inhaled. They kept saying something about Amelia losing too much blood and that they needed to act fast and a million other things, but it felt as if his ears were filled with cotton and his head was trapped underwater. Simon’s heart was beating like a hummingbird trapped in a cage; he couldn't handle losing another person he loved. Why was it that everyone around him seemed to be viciously ripped from him? 

Poppy, the name they had decided on just a few short days ago, was on the verge of having no mother and a grief-addled skeleton for a father. His lungs couldn’t hold enough air and suddenly he felt dizzy, he thought for a moment about what it would be like to let this day be his end too. But he then thought of his little girl growing up, traumatized from being abandoned as soon as she entered the world. Simon was not a man made of tears, but he found himself shedding them freely in the cold, hard hospital chairs as he waited to see if his entire world was about to come crashing down. He chides himself for all the arguments they had had recently, he can't even remember the last time he told Em that he loved her. He did love her, even if he wasn't able to love her the way she so desperately wanted him to. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor comes out where he’s sat, and he feels his throat constrict at the look on her face. 

“Mr. Riley, we did everything we could…” 

Whatever she says after doesn't even register because he feels like the room is spinning and he can't breathe and he's going to die he’s sure of it. What did he do to deserve the cards he had been dealt? How was he supposed to go home and take care of his daughter and act like he didn't have to plan on how he was going to bury her mother?

 Simon is hit with flashes of the future of all these he knows nothing about like periods, relationships, and all the things a little girl wants her mother for. 

At that very moment, Simon had nothing but Poppy. He wanted to lock himself in his home and never face the light of day again, but he knew that for her, he needed to be her everything. And that meant, trudging through every painful, sinister day so she never feels anything short of loved irrevocably. 

~ 

The shrill sound of Poppy crying has been Simon’s soundtrack for the better part of the day now. As if the small infant knows he’s inadequate, and most definitely not her mother, she wails loudly no matter what he does to soothe her. 

Amelia would know what to do, she was always the type to have her nose buried in parenting books, and if Simon even had a moment's peace maybe he’d pick one up. That unfortunately meant going into her bedroom, not even their bed because they had been fighting and sleeping in separate rooms right before their daughter was born. The door at the end of the hall has been closed since he got home from the hospital a week ago. Every time he thinks he’s ready to brave the room, his stomach twists in knots so tight he has to remind himself he’s okay and that he’s alive. 

Simon rocks his newborn gently in his arms as he sinks into the couch, sighing at the way he can still smell a hint of her mother’s perfume. He’d give anything to have Amelia ripping into him right now, just to hear the sound of her voice. 

He looks down at Poppy, who magically has granted him a reprieve from her sobs, and smiles softly at her. “You look just like your mother, ya know that? You’ve got a bit of my ugly mug in there too, but your eyes? That’s all her.” The baby blinks up at him and Simon leans down and kisses the crown of her head gently. “It’s just gonna be you and I kid, but I promise I'll do my very best with ya.” 

taglist: @darkravenqueen98 @jupiternighties @lunamoonbby @happy-mushrooms @yyiikes @liliumbosniacum @fluffymaxsworld

banners from @reveriesources and @cafekitsune pic creds: @ave661

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Horrorswap Sans & Papyrus character sheets (Updated version)

NUGGET (Horrorswap Sans)

Backstory: After Chara left the Underground, killing Toriel on the way out, Nugget felt immensely betrayed, taking responsibility for what happened despite his brother telling him not to do it. He should have listened. After a short period of calm, Alphys took over the Underground and immediately turned everyone against him, pleading that he should be the one to resolve the situation since he caused it in the first place. Nugget had been shocked to hear his supposed best friend talk against him so suddenly and had to accept against his will to become her right arm, to help find a way out. First happy to help, Nugget quickly realized Alphys was no longer his friend. Full of grief and remorse, she thinks he's fully responsible for the death of her mentor and never stops to remind him of this fact.

Then the famine happened and everything turned even worse. Nugget silently witnessed Alphys' terrible management of the situation while trying to help his brother, stuck in Snowdin, to survive the best he could, in New Home, as he was forbidden to leave. With the lack of food, Alphys turned paranoid and started to accuse him of not being loyal enough and hiding things from her to the point she decided one day to throw his brother in prison, to make sure Nugget wouldn't try something stupid.

As time passed, Nugget was promoted to executioner. He was the one who killed every human who fell, both to prove to Alphys that he was not on the human side and by fear of her hurting his brother. He hated every second of the situation, as he clearly was no killer. Another problem was the LV intoxication that slowly ate his soul and made him distance more and more from what he was doing and from his own personality. Nugget fell into depression, grew colder, and barely talked anymore. He tried to rebel a few times, but Alphys immediately made his brother pay for his actions, so he resigned to stay enslaved to her.

Eventually, he decided to protect himself by giving up on his brother and considering him dead. Alphys refused to let him see him anyway, so for all he knew, Pumpkin was long gone. Threats stopped acting on him, and frustrated, Alphys kept torturing his brother for many years.

Everything changed when another human fell. Nugget killed them. A few times. Somehow, they always came back, like Chara. Forced to not kill them, he tried to bring them to Alphys, but on the road, the kid tried to befriend them. First very cold, Nugget slowly warmed up to them, to the point that, when they reached Alphys, he couldn't resign to let them die. With the help of the child, they defeated Alphys. Nugget could have spared her in the end, but he was too angry and bitter for that. He ended her life, not feeling happy about this issue, but not sad either. The child did the rest, breaking the barrier with the souls they collected so far.

Nugget then faced the consequences when he went to free his brother. Pumpkin was unrecognizable, completely broken, and scared of him. Things were never the same after that. His brother could never forgive him for giving up on him, and he couldn't either. It seemed the brothers have nothing in common anymore, and even if Nugget tried, he could tell there were too many things keeping them apart by now. They live separately now, Pumpkin with Asgore, and him on his own. It's better this way. They see each other once a year for Gyftmas, but that's always very awkward. He hopes their relationship will be better someday, but that's probably denial.

Personality: Active - Adventurous - Athletic - Calm - Disciplined - Discreet - Fair - Gentle - Honest - Loyal - Objective - Observant - Organized - Persuasive - Protective - Realistic - Strong - Complex - Earthy - Neutral - Reserved - Sarcastic - Stubborn - Asocial - Cold - Cowardly - Fatalistic - Grim - Insecure - Paranoid - Regretful - Secretive - Unstable.

Job: Farmer.

Hobbies: Knitting, jogging, gardening, puzzles, cooking.

Loves: Peaceful activities, alone time, having time to do things at his pace, good food, long trips in places he doesn't know, animals, the farm, decorating the house, pretty flowers, stargazing.

Hates: People still calling him Blue, seeing how his brother is healing better without him, crowds, crows in his fields, being pressured to do things he doesn't want to do, looking after children or animals, being dependent on someone, getting bullied by other monsters for what he did Underground, his scars, people touching him without his consent.

The S/O of his dream: Someone who can understand he's not going to be nice every day and who understands his boundaries. He doesn't trust easily, but he is very loyal.

Dealbreakers: Not respecting his boundaries, trying to boss him around, pressuring him to do things.

Contacts :

Family: Pumpkin

Best friends: HT Toriel

Close friends: UT Toriel, Oak, Willow, Copper, Chief, Sam, Ben, Delta, Dune, Killer

Friends: Sans, Papyrus, Blue, Red, Coffee, Moon, Error

OK/Neutral: UT Mettaton, UT Grillby, UT Muffet, UT Burgerpants, UT Gerson, UF Grillby, Nox, Rus, Wine, Sun, Rambo, Salsa, Rumba, Tango

Would better avoid: UT Asgore, UT Frisk, UT Chara, UT Gaster, Honey, US Undyne, Edge, Pumpkin, Demon, Creeper, Fang, Ink

Absolutely hates: UT Undyne, UT Alphys, UT Flowey/Asriel, UF Undyne, UF Alphys, US Alphys, Torpedo

______________________________________________

PUMPKIN (Horrorswap Papyrus)

Backstory: Pumpkin had a really bad time Underground and suffered the consequences of Alphys and his brother's war. First, he had to face the crisis all alone, as his brother had to work for Alphys and was never home after he had the brilliant idea to tell Alphys it was his fault if Chara killed Toriel and left. Added to that, he had to help Asgore in the Ruins, as Alphys badly injured him when she exiled him. He cares a lot about his best friend, who was there for him through everything and he hates seeing him so down after he tried so hard to bring peace to the Underground.

When the famine struck, Pumpkin struggled a lot to find food. Being naturally kind and empathetic, he had a bad habit of giving what he found to children in the streets because he couldn't bear to watch them die of starvation. Until that day when he was talking with Asgore through the Ruins' door and the royal guard suddenly showed up, saying he was under arrest. Asgore tried to talk in his favor, but the guards became threatening and Pumpkin didn't want the old king to be killed because of him so he surrendered. Worst mistake of his life.

He quickly found out he was here to stay, after days of imprisonment. It wasn't so bad at first, but then Alphys clearly became unstable and regularly came to visit him to empty her bag, first only by talking, but really soon with her fists. He became basically her punching bag. Every time something bothered her, she came to hit him. Pumpkin took it pretty well at first, but then she broke his leg and the pain became too much. He stopped counting the hits, just falling into some sort of numb state, completely dissociating every time she showed up.

What hurt the most was that his brother was just standing there the first few times, doing nothing despite Pumpkin crying for his help. And then he stopped to come completely, giving up on him. Pumpkin suffered five long years in this horrible cell, completely isolated from the world, unable to talk to anyone, and finally unable to talk at all as Alphys broke his inferior jaw in one fit of rage. Pumpkin thought it was over for him, as the pain was so intense he kept passing out, but also because he couldn't even eat or drink in his state.

As he gave up completely, the door opened a few days later on his brother, suddenly acting like he was saved. But Pumpkin didn't want his help. In fact, he didn't want anything to do with him, completely traumatized and broken. He even refused to leave his cell, scared of what was waiting for him outside. Asgore is the only one who managed to gain his trust, horrified by what happened to him. Very patient, the old man stayed with him in his cell for weeks, simply helping him to feed and healing him, until he convinced Pumpkin to leave the Underground, as the Barrier broke almost two months ago already.

As Pumpkin decided to see his brother again, he accidentally learned from other monsters that Nugget waited almost a week after the Barrier broke and Alphys was killed to actually come to see if he was still alive. Pumpkin is angry, and heartbroken, not understanding why. He tried to talk to his brother, numerous times, but Nugget never apologized for his actions, and Pumpkin never forgave him. Unfortunately, he's also very empathetic and couldn't stay mad eternally. But it seems the brothers don't get along anymore. Nugget is still stuck in the past, while Pumpkin is desperate to move forward, despite the scars that will never fully heal. He can't talk anymore, he's limping because his legs couldn't be fixed properly and his list of traumas and panic triggers is as high as Mount Ebott. But he can only improve from there so he stays optimistic!

Personality: Accessible - Benevolent - Calm - Caring - Charismatic - Curious - Dependent - Empathetic - Forgiving - Friendly - Funny - Gentle - Kind - Observant - Open minded - Patient - Peaceful - Perceptive - Prudent - Reliable - Romantic - Sensitive - Spontaneous - Sweet - Tolerant - Trusting - Uncomplaining - Dreamy - Placid - Anxious - Cautious - Clumsy - Demanding - Difficult - Fearful - Insecure - Paranoid - Procrastinating - Resentful - Shy - Vulnerable

Job: Not ready to work yet, occasionally works on the farm with the Horrortale brothers.

Hobbies: Drawing, writing, wandering outside, taking care of the animals, gardening, spending time with Asgore, clinging to Chief, counting the birds outside

Loves: Spending time with his friends, being useful, reading, when people know how to sign, friendly people, his service dogs, the food he's not supposed to eat, watching TV, watering the flowers, cooking with friends, being told he's improving, long cuddle sessions on the couch.

Hates: People ignoring him because he can't talk, seeing his friends hurting, loud noises, people screaming, thunderstorms, being screamed at, people mocking him when he's in a middle of a panic attack, people pretending not seeing when he's freaking out, when his jaw hurts, the bad days, his brother pretending nothing happened.

The S/O of his dream: Someone who gives him time to adjust and tries to understand what he went through. Someone patient, kind, and not judgemental.

Dealbreaker: Using his traumas against him, triggering him on purpose, being mean to his friends.

Contacts :

Family: Nugget

Adopted family: Oak, Willow, Copper, Chief, Sam, Ben

Best friends: Chief, Delta

Close friends: UT Asgore, Blue, Honey, US Undyne, Red, Rus, Coffee, Dune, Killer

Friends : Sans, Papyrus, UT Toriel, UT Grillby, UT Muffet, UT Flowey/Asriel, UT Gerson, Edge, HT Toriel, Moon, Sun, Rambo, Fang, Error,

OK/Neutral: UT Mettaton, UT Burgerpants, UF Grillby, Nox, Wine, Salsa, Rumba,

Would better avoid: UT Undyne, UT Alphys, UT Frisk, UT Chara, UT Gaster, UF Undyne, Tango, Demon, Creeper, Ink,

Absolutely hates: UF Alphys, US Alphys, Torpedo

[ikamigami]

What gets me is that both Sun and Earth acknowledge how kind New Moon and they used to be, that he and Earth were super close to the point of sharing their deepest thoughts with one another, Sun had said to New Moon "I liked you more than the old you", it wasn't about New Moon being smarter or stronger than Old Moon, that didn't matter to Earth or Sun, they were okay if New Moon couldn't bring back Solar, they were okay with New Moon 'not measuring up to the old him', even now New Moon is their brother, not in a transactional way but in a real, close way, he a really good brother and just a kind person even when he got angry or messy! That's it too, New Moon could get angry or reckless before, that isn't the problem here, the problem was he decided to "snap", and its one thing to be really messy with grief and say some not great things, this episode made it clear the insults weren't the big problem, though I should also point out that if you start lashing out to hurt people on purpose, cutting ties with them like that, then why would you not expect consequences? And it's not like Sun and Earth disowned him, they didn't, but their trust in him was broken by what he said, because he went beyond insults and instead chose what he knew hurt them both the most and meant it, you don't get to do that, betray someone like that, and then walk away expecting your relationship with someone to be exactly the same, not without working to fix it, which he hasn't so far But either way the big problem was New Moon going further than Old Moon in the sense of actually attempting to kill a family member willingly, Old Moon was terrible, but the closest he ever got to murdering one of his siblings on purpose was punching Sun in the face or verbally threatening to "unplug him", which was still very messed up mind you but New Moon took it several steps further, it wasn't an accident like "oh I didn't know you were in here", or a "I am doing this but I will give you time to get out", he told her he doesn't care about her right before doing it and would've killed her if the blast wasn't stopped and everybody knows that and is not okay with it, rightfully so, grief is not a justification to attempt to willingly murder innocent people, especially ones own family who you claimed to love so much, I do not could Ruin or Bloodmoon because they aren't innocent, if it was just them in the room there wouldn't be a problem here, and if New Moon did that because "he feels they disowned him", they made it clear they didn't, I don't even think New Moon in his moments of reflection he actually said "they abandoned me", and isn't it just as bad that you betray someone close to you and they express they are hurt and that your relationship will be different going forwards, but they're still there, and your response is effectively "welp I don't care if you die now, get out of my way"? And even then both of them are still conflicted, Earth is still very angry but as she said she still can't fully just cut ties, and Sun is even more hesitant, and yeah, them going "Forgiving them depends on if the apology was actually sincere" and even then if they didn't forgive him for going that far that would be valid considering the severity, if it is revealed there was a corrupting influence that would help New Moon's case, but he still made bad choices he needs to answer for, even a part of his conscience knew it was all wrong but he chose to do it anyway

100% true! All of this! Everything you said is exactly true and right!

They still care and can't fully stop caring about New Moon. But they have every right to feel betrayed and hurt and to not want to forgive him. But like you said they are thinking about the option of forgiving him because they loved him and I think that they still do cause emotions are a funny thing which is hard to control and even if they may say "we don't care about him and we don't love him anymore". That love and care is still there in their hearts. And this is also why it hurts so much. This is why New Moon's betrayal hurts so much.

And you're right that virus or not New Moon still has to be hold accountable for his actions and he needs to show regret and apologize and even maybe he should do something to show that he means that. And also like you said Sun and Earth saw New Moon as brother. Sun liked New Moon more than Old Moon as his brother. They don't care if his smarter if he can do and fix everything. Like you said they don't care about it. I agree with everything you said here, dear anon.

Thank you for this long message because you addressed everything, every little and important detail and I think that it's very needed for everyone in this fandom to see. Thank you ^^

[lime202]

Songs that reminded me of KNY dynamics and possible writing prompts, PT1

If anyone is interested in taking any songfic opportunities, here you go!

This post has manga spoilers. And, all of these prompts are angst, whoops. (This list is not limited to romantic dynamics, either—just dynamics that are interesting to touch on.)

Hakuji x Koyuki — "Stay Close" by SYML (Hakuji-centric)

"I know mourning is mourning and we heal differently / Right now it’s all I see" (Describes Hakuji falling back into his habits of violence after losing loved ones, with mourning being "all [he sees]" instead of finding true peace.)

"I want to keep you forever my love" (He says after her marriage proposal, and says once again as her pulse slows until it's nothing under his fingers.)

"I need somebody to save me" (Koyuki saved Hakuji from a life of ruthless violence, while Hakuji saved Koyuki from a life of loneliness and sickness.)

"If there’s no cure and there’s no medicine / Do we count the days until the end?" (No cure for the poison, no medicine for his father, and life is seeming to become more colorless and bleak.

Counting was the only thing Hakuji learned with his lack of education: the days left, money needed, grams of medicine needed, rations of food, punches thrown, hairpins needed to keep up his lover's hair...)

This song (literally all the lyrics, but I can't fit all of them in here) can also be applied to most of Hakuji's relationships, considering how tragic his past is.

Giyuu x Shinobu — "Take me Apart" by SYML (Giyuu-centric)

"Looking to start a war" (referring to the war of Humankind/Demon Corps vs Demons) "Wondering how it ends"

"I'm lucky he was a friend" (It's the only sentence that Giyuu can fully say about Sabito when confiding in Shinobu. She understands. As a slayer, she is someone who truly understands.)

"Take me apart and I'll flow like water" (A part of Giyuu's internal monologue, thinking about Shinobu's curiosity of him and her eagerness to pick him apart, while also insinuating his forced disconnect from the past and how he "floats above himself.")

These lyrics can apply to the canon also. They fit for a hypothetical scene about the aftermath of the war and Giyuu's perspective on being a survivor and the majority of the Corps' deaths.

Ruka x Shinjuro — "Lost On You" by LP (Shinjuro-centric)

"Burnin' like embers, falling tender / Long before the days of no surrender years ago" (The disease was prolonged, reducing his lover to a dying bonfire. Shinjuro knew what would happen, his children knew, and he could only hope that it wasn't as painful for Ruka to know as it was for him.

He knew he would never surrender to demon, but he couldn't have prepared for such a human circumstance to make him surrender his title as a Hashira.)

"So smoke 'em if you got 'em 'cause it's going down / All I ever wanted was you" (Her willpower remained strong and fiery until the end, but his own was made into a rapidly thinning smoke.)

"I'll never get to heaven 'cause I don't know how / Let's raise a glass or two" (His grief only came out as aggression. The way he treated his, her children was unworthy of forgiveness. Before he knew it, a few moderate glasses of sake increased to the whole bottle.)

My interpretation slightly deviates from the more accurate meaning of the song, but it still captures Shinjuro's full awareness of the inevitability of his wife's death and "end" of their relationship.

Kyojuro & Senjuro — "I Feel It in the Wind" by Smith & Thell (Switching perspectives)

"If you can find a drop in a drying sea / You'll find light in the darkest creeks" (Kyojuro always supplies his baby brother with happy words, acting as the source of light for their mostly dark, empty home.)

"You told me / I feel it in the wind my dear / The sun is gonna reappear / Good days are gonna come along / Hold on" (Hold on a little longer, is what Kyojuro used to say to Senjuro during harder times. The same words fall from Senjuro's lips as he weeps over Kyojuro, who lies overwhelmingly silent with endless injuries.)

"I feel it coming, the tide is turning / I feel it coming, you just got to wait and believe" (The tide is turning against the demons, they will surely meet their downfall, and you will live without needing to encounter any, Kyojuro insists, to both himself, and his brother weeping over him.)

This song wholly embraces the dynamic of Kyojuro always feeding Senjuro optimism during disheartening moments. Senjuro remembers every word, because any one could be his last.

Kyogo x Shizu — "Labour" by Paris Paloma (Shizu-centric)

"The calloused skin on my hands is cracking / If our love died, would that be the worst thing?" (Her hands were beginning to wear from chores, labor, and work. Their roughness made them appear less capable of love/physical affection, but that wouldn't stop her from cradling her children lovingly.)

"As the silence haunts our bed chamber / You make me do too much labour" (The bed is either silent with the lack of her lover or silent with unspoken anger. It eventually becomes dead silent when she is made into a widow.)

"All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid" "24/7 baby machine / So he can live out his picket fence dreams" (Her body was small, but she underwent endless labor and painful childbirth without a second thought for his sake.)

Love eventually turning into abuse. The whole song speaks for itself.

Genya & Sanemi — "Once in A Dream" by In the City (Sanemi-centric)

"I can't stop, I can't break, I carry the weight for you" (The Hashira can't stop until the last of his family is able to live in a world free of demons. The weight of being made into a demon-killing machine is nothing.)

"It’s the loneliest road, road I know, I know, I know" (Sanemi knows this most of all as he pushes Genya away, but Genya dying to demon because of him would be even lonelier. It is lonelier, he finds out.)

"When I’m awake, I hide all our chains so you aren’t afraid" (The older brother pretends, has been pretending ever since they were little, that Genya had nothing to be afraid of as long as he was there.

His promise of protection used to mean that they would always stay together. Now—knowing his blood attracts demons left and right—it meant that he had to act more like their father to get Genya away from danger; if Sanemi was the scariest thing there was, then anywhere away from him would seem safer, because it was safer.)

I know you expected "Brother" by Kodaline for the Shinazugawa brothers... open books, all of you. (My fingers still ache from restraining myself from typing and using that song.)

[pyropsychiccollector]

Ace Attorney: IF (... Part 5)

To briefly give some background, Mia Fey used to work at the Grossberg Law Offices. Marvin Grossberg was an old friend of her mother, and Mia was grateful for the starting off point in her career as a lawyer. ... But even if Marvin helped her out of a sense of obligation to the Fey's, Mia was not blind. The old man carried a great deal of guilt that only compounded over the years.

And why wouldn't he feel guilty? Fifteen years ago, the police tried contracting the services of a medium to channel a victim to unearth the truth of an otherwise unsolvable murder. They kept the medium's identity anonymous and kept the whole affair a secret, and yet the media found out about it. Why? Because someone sold out the medium, giving the information to someone that in turn sold it to the media outlets and profited a great deal from the humiliation and ruination of the Fey's.

Marvin was promised a great deal of power and wealth for leaking that information... And instead, a noose was tied around his neck and he was blackmailed into serving the man who tempted him. Mia learned about this betrayal through her independent investigations, and while she would never quite forgive Marvin for causing her mother and family a great deal of grief, for her mother going into hiding from the public... The fact remains Marvin was a friend of her mother's, and he had given her the chance to become a lawyer. Marvin made a mistake, and he was still paying for that mistake like a great many people were. Mia was dedicated to bringing down the man that blackmailed Marvin, and that was a tall order because of how powerful the man had gotten in 15 years.

She studied and worked diligently under Grossberg Law Offices for a couple of years... And then she spread her wings to form her own law firm. Of course Diego came along for the ride, letting his little Kitten handle all the managerial headaches. This was Mia's dream, and she was blossoming into a fine lawyer~...

And yet... (人◕ω◕) Diego knew full well the man that his Kitten was pursuing. He was a dangerous man, one that toyed with the police, the courts... All because he had them in his pocket, whether through bribery or blackmail. His "network" dug up any corrupt dealings of anyone that was anyone, and then the man used that information to his advantage.

It was a risky venture to go after a man like Redd White... But Diego supported his Kitten. Because Mia had no dirty laundry that White could use against her. His Kitten couldn't be bought. She wouldn't be scared away from this investigation. It was heartwarming and alarming at the same time how driven Mia was to bring White down... They would need to be careful, but Diego was rather confident in their eventual success. No one else had the guts to even try. ... Even Edgeworth Law Offices was wary of Blue Corp. They might've been conducting their own investigations in secret, but they weren't telling Fey and Co. Law Offices anything on that front...

They sorely underestimated their opponent. White was sick and tired of Mia's snooping, so he resolved to make an example out of her. The man plotted to kill Mia while she was meeting up with her sister... But to his chagrin, the kid showed up for the meeting first; Mia was running late.

... Not that Redd White cared all that much... (人◕ω◕);;; Setting Mia up for murder would get rid of her just as well. He already absconded with all the dirt she dug up on him, what little actually hurt him, so killing Maya and arranging for Miss April May to catch Mia discovering the body was a pathetically easy task.

White was so certain of his victory. (人◕ω◕) Mia was devastated, Diego livid, and the police acted quickly to arrest Miss Fey as they were supposed to. Diego wasn't in a place to defend Mia in court as he was considered a suspect in the murder, too. That was the police's unfortunate stance.

But that's alright. (人◕ω◕) There's more than one law firm in this city, and not all of them are in White's pocket or too scared to move against him. Diego was shocked Ray Shields responded so quickly, never imagining their senior was keeping an eye on the situation. After having nothing to say about Blue Corp for months, Diego figured Edgeworth Law Offices would stay far away from this case.

No, Ray isn't that heartless. (人◕ω◕) To be honest, Diego wasn't wrong about his assessment. Ray was pretty leery of Blue Corp. He knew full well that Mia was poking around some freaking dangerous bigshots, Redd White gave Ray the heebie-jeebies. (人◕ω◕) His caution came out of a sense of keeping a promise to Gregory to keep the law firm alive; if he tried making big moves against White, he just knew Miles or Sebastian would get targeted.

Which... sucks because that very thing happened to Mia and her sister. ...... (人◕ω◕) Ray knows it's inexcusable that he didn't form a united front before now. He allowed Mia to get in over her head, and it was Maya who paid the price. Ray knows nothing will ever make up for allowing someone else to suffer the tragedy he did in losing Gregory... But he's willing to defend Mia to the last, and just maybe take Redd White out if they're lucky. (人◕ω◕)

Mia doesn't blame Ray for what happened. He didn't murder Maya in cold blood, and she even remembers Ray cautioning her a few times... albeit in his quirky, "is he joking?" manner. Diego is similarly sober and grateful that Ray is here for them now... The coffee aficionado feels more culpable for what happened to Maya because he felt looking after the sisters was his responsibility. (人◕ω◕) ... But Ray acknowledges they could've been working together before now, so the man acknowledges his failings. He's here now, and Mia and Diego are willing to let Ray handle their defense.

... Even if Ray's teenage ward/assistant doesn't instill the most confidence... (人◕ω◕);;; Sebastian is better than he would've been, in another timeline. He's not nearly as confused with words, and he's nowhere near as arrogant... But Sebastian is... excitable. (人◕ω◕);;; Hardly knows anything about law, yet he wants to help his dad with an important case like this. Because it'd make him cool and give him something to brag about at school.

.......... Not the most idealistic reasons to defend somebody, but Sebastian's heart is in the right place. ... Sort of. (人◕ω◕);;; He is just a 15-year-old. What did you expect?

Ray knows what he's doing, and he was young like Sebastian once. (人◕ω◕) The kid hasn't even picked up his paper-eating habits! That's something, yeah? (人◕ω◕)

Regardless, they have Mia and Diego's blessing to handle the investigation. Miles had his hands full with another case, so they would have to handle this one on their own. Not the easiest task when the police are so dismissive and cold. But Ray expected no less when Redd White was at the center of this circus. (人◕ω◕)

They get a small break when the lead detective takes pity on them. (人◕ω◕) Manfred found Redd White irritating, but knew that he had to obey the man in some capacity because a few ingrates in his office were in the man's employ... But he wasn't about to assign his daughter to this case, or handle it himself. No, he'd get the blue monkey to take care of it. Manfred held no expectations for Phoenix Wright, and if he upset Redd White... Oh well. (人◕ω◕) That's why Calisto was in charge of the initial investigation.

By now, Calisto adapted to her new life. (人◕ω◕) Alba and Coachen were dealt with, and Interpol was chasing down the remnants of the smuggling ring. She didn't have a lot to fear these days in spite of how imposing that ring used to be. (人◕ω◕) This wasn't her ideal life or anything… But Calisto was used to plodding along, dealing with disappointment, and she could have far worse bosses than Badd. The Chief of Police was one example. Calisto knew her kind, and Damon Gant was… Well. He was eerily similar to Alba. (人◕ω◕)

But did Calisto inform Badd of her misgivings? You bet your sweet ass she did. (人◕ω◕) If there was departmental rotting, Calisto wasn't going to jeopardize her new life by keeping quiet because it was too troublesome. Badd would chew her out for not saying anything, and he might think she was keeping other dark secrets and watch her like a hawk… Thankfully, Badd was aware of Gant giving off such vibes and was keeping an eye out already. But he was grateful for Calisto's transparency. Proved that despite the attitude she would have at times, Calisto was genuinely on their side… Or Badd and Faraday's side, at any rate. Everyone else…ehhh, they were working on it. (人◕ω◕)

No one could deny Calisto did her job as an investigator. (人◕ω◕) She knew from the minute that she was assigned to the Fey murder case that Blue Corp's mitts were all over this. The police had orders from up top (not from Gant, but from pretty up the ladder) to handle this as quickly as possible and ensure everything pointed to Mia. (人◕ω◕) Calisto wasn't an idiot. She knew this was a frame-up. And since Badd was busy with other matters, it fell to her to conduct a proper, thorough investigation. Not that she could just tell the defense they were after the same thing. (人◕ω◕) Calisto did have her orders, and she at least had to give the impression she was following them; any officers reporting to White would definitely be dealt with after this case. (人◕ω◕)

But in the meantime… She could be genuine in her deadpan behavior over Shields debasing himself to be granted rights to investigate. (人◕ω◕) The man had no pride, begging and pleading… Offering sweets… And those damn hugs he kept offering were pissing her off. (人◕ω◕)*** Eventually she shared a bit with him. Pointed him in the right direction of where to look without outright saying it. By the end, Calisto is pretty sure Ray at least had an inkling she wasn't like the other bullheaded officers. Finding good help was so hard these days. (人◕ω◕)

Being assigned to work with Phoenix Wright was… Calisto was gonna be honest, she still thought Badd was screwing with her. (人◕ω◕) He wasn't a bad guy, but even with that Von Karma diva whipping him into shape, Wright still had a long way to go as a prosecutor. Calisto could somewhat respect his drive to pursue the truth… But the bonehead missed the point that prosecutors were supposed to DOUBT others. He was way too chill with just assuming an arrest was made erroneously. (人◕ω◕) In the end, though, Calisto was assigned to the big lug. As annoying as it was to screw his head on straight for the most simple tasks, Wright did listen to and trusted her. Not a whole lot of people were willing to do even that much after hearing about her past. And of course Wright was briefed on that. It's not that Wright didn't care what she used to be; he cares more about what she was now, if she had "learned" to be a better person…

Calisto didn't much like how condescending that made Wright sound… But after a few weeks, she got the gist of the kind of man he was. Wright always wore his heart on his sleeve, and he had this bizarre faith in people intermingled with his strong sense of justice. He was…a character. But Calisto could work with this. There were far worse prosecutors she could have been working with. God help her, she probably would have locked that Von Karma diva in a broom closet from their first day together. (人◕ω◕) Wright was a big, strong, idiot of a man, but he LISTENED to Calisto and actually asked to hear her assessments. On both cases and people. (人◕ω◕) He didn't agree with everything she said, but that cut both ways so it was fair.

… He was also amusing to mess with. Not as cliff-faced as Edgeworth, nowhere near actually, but when he reacted to things he did not disappoint. (人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)

All of that said, Calisto and Phoenix were pretty sure how this case SHOULD go, but they needed to keep up appearances so Calisto made sure to have a good, long strategy session so Wright wouldn't embarrass himself in the trial. (人◕ω◕) She needed Wright to carry himself better than that lecherous, lazy attorney. She would not stand to be the only sane, rational person in that courtroom. (人◕ω◕)***

Well, it goes about as well as any of them could hope. The judge was clearly pressured to declare Mia guilty, but the defense accumulated enough evidence and testimony to point the finger at Redd White, who of course did everything to dodge and pressure Phoenix to stop giving the defense chances to counterattack. Not that Phoenix listened, but you know, the miserly, power-crazed CEO tried. (人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕)(人◕ω◕) Having the knowledge she did, Mia got the man to confess to his crimes. Kinda stole the show from Ray, but he wasn't complaining. White honestly thought it didn't matter if Mia was still alive, but he was very wrong… (人◕ω◕)

Arresting White was a simple matter, now that his confession gave the police and courts free reign to raze him and Blue Corp. (人◕ω◕) It'd be up to Wright to wrap up that case, but once White got the Guilty he deserved, the big blue idiot found himself very popular. A lot more cases sent his way and a lot more friends that used to be under White's thumb showering him with gratitude. (人◕ω◕) It was a step in the right direction for the rookie prosecutor. Even Calisto thought so~

As for Mia… She still took the loss of her sister hard, but she would carry on. Prosecutor Wright helped find the truth, as did Ray and Sebastian. White was convicted, and now Mia and Diego could keep the office running. They, too, would receive a lot more business for helping end Blue Corp's reign. (人◕ω◕) Life wasn't perfect, it would be hard without Maya, but Mia knew life would get better. (人◕ω◕)

[inkedobsidian]

~I need to save her PT.2 - S.R ~

prompt: I need to save her pt.1

requested by: @notme22sblog

summary: Spencer goes to visit Y/N a few weeks after the original incident hoping to have some questions answered.

pairing: Y/N x Spencer Reid

warnings: mentions of torture, bodily injury

word count: 893

a/n: Requests are open! Prompt list is there if you guys want extra ideas!

Master-List - Prompts

It had only been a few weeks since Y/N's incident with an unsub but her doctor had told her already she had made amazing progress. That was the only thing that kept her going through the physio, that and the thought of returning back to work. Y/N knew that Hotch was right when he said she needed her rest but she couldn't help but miss the job, miss the distraction. So here she was, another day another session. This time her doctor had her use handrails to walk as steadily as possible. Y/N knew it was still going to be a few months before she could return to the field but even just returning to her desk would be a savior at this point. Then the door opened and cut her straight out of her thoughts.

"Spence," Y/N says using the rails to walk toward the seat near the door. Spencer couldn't remove himself from the door, seeing her in so much pain trying just to walk towards him when he should've saved her quicker. He could truly never forgive himself for what happened to her. "Spence please just sit down."

So he did just that, he sat straight across from her and couldn't take his eyes off the leg. Then his eyes spotted the cane at the end of her seat. Was she injured that badly? Spencer never knew the full extent of her injuries, he couldn't bring himself to look at those files. He knew that if he ever looked at the words on paper then he'd never forget the pain she went through, what he heard her go through.

Y/N didn't want to initiate the conversation, she thought it would be better for him to speak when he was ready. It was one of the first things she went over in therapy, not everyone is ready to talk about the accident at the same time. Y/N noticed that he was looking at her cane and then her leg over and over again and she couldn't help but feel the crippling grief of what she put him through, the burden she made him bear.

"Have the doctors given you a time you'll be cleared by yet?" He was trying to avoid the topic at hand, and she was fine with that.

"They said the moment I can walk normal distances with just my cane for aid then I can return to my desk, field work is gonna be a little longer I'm afraid," Y/N says placing her hand on the knee of her injured leg. It almost made Spencer cringe to see her touch it worrying that it would cause the injury to open all over again.

"Well that will be good, everyone misses you. But I assume they've also been here to visit sometimes." Spencer says looking around the room to see various photo frames of everyone and various stuffed animals that could only belong to one Penelope Garcia. It made Spencer feel awful, knowing in the 5 weeks she'd been here recovering Spencer had never visited her once. He felt as if he should apologize to her for-

"I'm sorry," Y/N announces snapping Spencer immediately out of his thoughts. What did she have to be sorry for? She was the one in a torture situation and now the one stuck in intensive physio, yet here she was apologizing to him.

"For what?" Spencer would admit he had trouble with people's intentions/emotions on the best of days but he was truly stunned at why she felt the need to apologize. Now he'd asked her to clarify Y/N didn't have any more words to say. How does she explain the apology without making the initial statement sound like a lie?

"For what I said… y'know just before. It wasn't right to say that, had the outcome of been diff-"

"Was it a lie?" Spencer cut her off before she rambled herself blue in the face. Y/N stopped dead and her face was almost the picture-perfect description of shock, but only for a split second, then the rambling began again.

"No! Of course, it wasn't! But like I said had the outcome of been different that would've been such a burden for you today and with everything you went through with Maive I should've cared more about the outcome of words like that," Y/N would use any other word than the ones she said that day, the adrenaline of the torture has long worn off and now she's just an anxious mess. As for Spencer he hadn't spoken a word since his question. His face was completely stagnant as if he was trying to reply to the moment in his head, analyzing it almost. That's exactly what he was doing. He asked if she was lying when she told him she loved him. She said no. So she loves him? Of course, she does they've been partners for years, working side by side through the worst moments of humanity you can. All of the team love each other. But was she IN love with him? It only took a simple moment of Spencer looking into her eyes before she broke into a smile and all her nerves drifted away, which confirmed it. She was in love with him. "If you could say something that would be great Spence."

"I love you too."

[midnight-in-town]

So we have three persons in deadly danger: dadga, tartah and coco. (since they seem to be both severely hurt, right?). What if the king couldn't save all three. I mean he may be powerful with healing magic but it must be terribly hard. Maybe too much for him. Maybe saving three persons from death the same day will be too hard. So there would be a choice. Well Coco will live, that's sure but if Tartah die because of the Brims Hats plan, i don't think that she'll forgive them or join them.

Hey Anon! Well, maybe I interpreted ch67 wrongly, but I was more under the impression that Coco was unconscious and not "hurt" (besides, like, maybe a concussion), meanwhile Tartar...

... is indeed suffering from a much more likely to be fatal wound.

As for Dagda, he keeps on "dying" but he's under a "time rewind" forbidden spell that, for now, works...

...so I'd say the current priority is Tartar++, then at a later time Dagda (from the moment the spell wears off), while Coco will most likely be fine without the King's intervention (to be confirmed).

Also, while I agree that Coco would never forgive the Brim Hats for hurting Tartar, she's also currently treading on very thin ice and anything happening to any of her friends (including Tartar, Coustas and, by proxy, Dagda) "because magic and medicine can't be mixed" might most likely tip her scale in favor of the Brim Hats.

All that being said, I'd also be lying if I said I believed Dagda had a real chance to make it through this arc. :// Sadly, the truth is, Dagda is a literal walking forbidden spell and the Brim Hats want to make themselves known to the King so, narratively speaking, Dagda meeting/being saved by the King is equal to a victory for the Brim Hats.

Of course, it could be what Sensei is after, since this arc is clearly challenging all the laws fueling The Secret as well as the forbidden link between magic and medicine, but Belda was quite clear as to what he fears about King Dean getting knowledge about magic and...

...as much as I truly enjoy the King's character and despise The Secret, I think he's right. For now, plot-wise, it wouldn't be a good idea at all for the King's family to figure out how magic works, because it would simply further the Brim Hats' cause and they're too chaotic to be the real answer (meanwhile the Prince learning the truth from, say, Tetia? highly more interesting and less prone to chaotic results :))).

TL;DR at this point, I don't fear for Tartar's or Coco's safety, whereas I really doubt Dagda will make it. And even if the King were to manage saving him, he's at a very high risk of getting his memory erased which will anger Coustas to no end, causing Tartar and Coco much grief. ://

At some point during the arc, I really though there could be a way for, say, Atuarto to become Ininia's, Coustas' and Tartar's teacher, since he offered to protect Galga from the Island of Lost Memories...

...but that probably won't happen for Coustas if Dagda can't escape death + the Witches' law for being a walking forbidden spell, like Eunie did.

We'll have to wait and see. I hope I managed to answer your question. :)) Have a good day Anon!

[offworldlamb-writes]

Day 2: It's been a long time

3kingdoms again, but this time it's an exploration into how halting your heart with magic has its side effects emotionally, and makes it hard to connect with the ones you love even when you desperately want to.

xxx

Letting Luta through the door Keet made sure it was shut behind him to keep in the warmth-- the last thing Lilla needed was a cold flat while she was recovering-- but it was hard to turn back to face Calista still waiting at the bottom of the stairs. There may not be a rush of emotions to his unbeating heart but he could still sense the sadness in him, creeping slow and deep like a a mist across the floors of his consciousness, but knowing that he might not react at all to seeing her... there was no real fear, but that only added to the disappointment. These awful cages they'd put around their hearts-- what a price to pay, alive but unfeeling, all to win a war that finished over four hundred years ago that still caused problems to this day.

Still, for all he'd been through he was definitely thankful for the chance to see Calista again. That really beat back the hollowness and he finally turned to face her, and couldn't help but smile when he met her gaze. She hadn't changed at all from what he eventually remembered, maybe her hair was a little longer but that was it: another curse caused by the Mitahs drops in their chests disguised as a blessing. The same smile graced her features: thankful, but not overcome by happiness or anger or sadness. A habit from when it held a little more importance, but not fake. Just... there.

For years he'd struggled to remember anything after waking up in the crypt, and even longer after that to remember specific faces and voices. Calista never really left but for the longest time it was completely lost to him, a powerful presence with no defining features he could grasp for reassurance in those difficult times. But it only took seeing her once, after four hundred years, to start reattaching those lingering threads of thoughts and feelings back together. To put a face to the memories of feelings. To remember a little more of his old life before his death.

There should've been more. There should've been crying and apologies and begging for forgiveness, but it was calm. Tepid. He could do little else than join her at the bottom of the steps, and they walked around the city all night talking to each other, but none of it mattered much beyond the facts of their long, unnatural lives. Without emotions to guide them it was hard to know what was important to say. Without feeling the grief and the fear of loss again it was too easy to part ways again when morning came. This woman was his guardian, his friend, his only family at such a pivotal point in his life and there was nothing in him to express that, not even anger at the unfairness of it, and from the solemn look on her face as he headed back to the flat he could only imagine it was the same for her.

It wasn't until months later that he could finally say what he wanted. They'd struggled against all odds, fought their way into the heart of magic itself buried in the ocean, and at first he genuinely thought he was going to die. The rush of his heartbeat was deafening and he thought for sure it would beat out of his chest in seconds, hammering against his ribs with a vengeance for four centuries worth of stillness. He struggled to catch his breath even with Lilla's help, holding on for dear life as she tried to understand what was going on, though pressing her fingers to the hollow of his throat got the message across quickly enough.

Everything had light to it now. There was excitement as he grinned idiotically at Lilla and caught her in a hug; nervousness at the crashing waves clawing at the rocks around them; relief at the feeling of wind and sea spray against his face. They'd always existed but they were new to him again, fresh life surrounding him after centuries trapped in deprevation.

And then he saw Calista, staring out across the ocean in awe, the same shock of sensation in her eyes. He ran towards her without a second thought and she caught him tightly in her arms just as she always used to. His chest heaved, the pain so much more intense but eased by the contact, and by the time they let each other go to be face to face they were both wet-faced with tears. They came thick and fast, relentlessly, but Keet was too focused on trying to talk to care about wiping them away.

Cupping his cheeks in her hands Calista did her best to do it for him, smiling and crying and gasping out her thanks to any higher being listening. "My little bird, you're here! All this time, you've been here all along-- my heart! My stars!" All the names she used he remembered, each place and time they'd first been spoken, each time since and each moment he missed them. He tried apologising but she wouldn't hear it, pressing a kiss to his forehead before pulling him into her arms again. "When I lowered you into that grave I thought you were gone for good. Thank the sun and the stars and the sky-- you're here! Four hundred and sixty three years and you're here with me again!"

There was nothing to do but hug her back, thankful, just like her, for the chance to see each other again and to finally feel what he'd wanted to feel before. Relief, and happiness. He couldn't help but laugh. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

[trashbag-baby666]

Lose It-Hunter Sylvester

Disclaimer: Song used in the Drabble is Lose It by SWMRS. I no long support them but the song bops a little. Got this idea for it after an intense listen to it!

C/W: mentions of cheating/sleeping with other girls.

Hunter had fucked up and there was no going back.

He had slept with a few girls that meant nothing to him and he wasn't sure why. The band had gone on a small tour of Oregon and Hunter let the obsessed girls get ahold of him.

Of course you found out fast, Emily and Hunter were your ride or dies.

Your band of girls were not having it and you weren't going to take it.

You were upset and angry going through the five stages of grief over and over. For what seemed like forever but had been more like four hours.

So, what did you turn to? Your guitar and notebook.

You wrote out your feelings as you decided that you couldn't forgive him for what happened.

You had talked to Emily and Kevin when they got back and they supported your decisions.

Hunter was pissed when you showed up at his door and gave him his stuff back and told him it was over.

But he wasn't pissed at you. He was pissed at himself. This was his fault and he knew it.

"Fuck him," Emily nodded as she read over the song you had written. Both of you needed a well needed hang out session. The session before your high school hosted a local music show.

Your band, y/b/n, we're playing and so was Skullflower.

"Do you think I should play it?" You looked up at Emily.

"Yeah, I think he deserves to have to be put in his place. Plus it's a good song none the less, y/n." Emily nodded and handed you back the tattered notebook.

"Thank you so much for coming over and just talking." You hugged Emily as you made your decision to play it.

You and your band had practiced the new song plenty of times. As you stood side stage as Molly Coddle played. You guys were up next, you'd warn your favorite outfit and shifted your weight on your new docs your mom had gifted you.

"Ready, y/n?" Your bassist came over resting her hand on your shoulder momentarily. You nodded as Molly Coddle finished up and packed up your gear and you guys began to set up.

Then it was time, the stage lights flickered on and the band did a small introduction. You spotted Hunter quick. Standing off towards your guitarist more with Kevin and Emily.

His arms crossed as he looked like a kicked puppy. He loved watching you perform and you knew that.

"Tonight is a night for a new song." You smiled awkwardly flicking the long mic cable as you held the mic, "This one is called Lose it." You smiled as your band came in playing the mellow melody.

"When I first saw you, I made a mixtape

I didn't know you'd do the same damn thing

When I said goodbye to you, it went quiet

'Cause I didn't wanna feel any pain"

It was true you and Hunter were both music critiques and buffs. You both loved everything music. You liked a lot of metal but more indie rock being your style and Hunter could respect that. You had made him a mixtape on a CD and he made you a playlist.

You turned to music the night Emily texted you saying Hunter was sleeping with a fan.

You couldn't listen to any of it. It all reminded you of Hunter. All you were left with was silence and your tears.

"The last thing I want is another debutante

To take me away from my world (take me away from my world)

And I know that wasn't us, but it still got tough

So come on, come on

And tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

When we drove up the coast, we had a soundtrack

We made it feel like a film on a reel

And our story didn't have a happy ending

But it still sounded good despite the way I feel"

You guys fell for each other fast and you dragged Hunter on a road trip to the coast to your aunts cabin so it could be just you two for a weekend.

You guys had made a collaborative playlist on Spotify and it really seemed like a teen coming of age movie. It was one of your happiest memories of Hunter.

"The last thing I want is another broken heart

To drive me to the brink of crazy (drive me to the brink of crazy)

In the end, I couldn't take it 'cause I knew we wouldn't make it

So come on, come on

And tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

Tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it"

Hunter stood in the crowd watching you softly sway your hips to the soft beat. He knew it was about him. Hell, almost everyone in the room knew it was about him. The schools 'loser couple'. You had only a few friends being your band mates and then Kevin and Emily.

Hunter knew he had fucked up so bad the moment after the girls would leave him and he'd see the texts from you on his phone. Every time he did it and he still continued to do it.

He deserved this, he was humiliated but he also deserved this humiliation. Clay had even shared some glanced and head nods towards Hunter as the song went on.

"In the end, we were just a couple kids

Who thought and fought our way around each other

There's a mark on the town the times we had around

But there's still some space for the rest of our lives

Sing it

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

Tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

I'm gonna lose it

I'm gonna lose it"

You finished and said thank you to the crowd as you packed up. Maybe this wasn't the official end of you and Hunter but just the end for now. Maybe he just needed time to grow as a person. To recognize the beauty he had standing right in front of him, waiting for him.

You were hopping that the wake up call of the song would be enough for him to change his inflated ego.

[wastheheart]

Branching off the other ask, what was Esme's relationship with her own mom like? And how does that affect her as a mother who lost her own child?

Buckle up, this got long. I'm sorry!

Esme loved her mom very much and held a deep respect for her. After all, raising a child and running and working farm wasn't easy and her mother seemed to do it with ease. Of course, Esme had her father who worked the farm too, but as a woman, Esme's mother was expected to raise her child alongside the manual labour she was expected to complete on the farm.

Esme was an only child and both her parents had many expectations placed on young shoulders. She was very much a daddy's girl growing up, especially since her mother struggled to have any more children. Although adored by her father, Esme's mother ran their farm with more of an iron rod sort of approach. Esme was expected to start helping on the farm as soon as she could, alongside keeping up with her schoolwork.

She was a spirited child. She loved to be out in nature and on the farm. She wasn't afraid to tussle with the boys in her class or do other "tom-boyish" things such as climbing trees.

As a child, her mother could somewhat forgive her behaviour, but as she reached her teens, and especially after the incident which broke her leg, Esme's mother had had enough. Apart from farm duties, Esme was to start dressing and behaving the way a young woman was expected to. In the evenings, Esme would partake in needlework lessons with her mother, learning how to repair her father's shirts. She was also often tasked with preparing dinner for the family should her mother be out running errands.

At the age of 17, one of her closest friends had gotten engaged to the neighbouring farmer's son, wedding shortly after and where (while on the way home) Esme's mother commented that it was time for Esme to start thinking about finding a husband.

It was then Esme mentioned about moving west and becoming a teacher, not desiring a housewife role— at least for now. Such a confession was a mistake, and it ended up being the first, real argument Esme and her mother ever got into. Of course, her father heard them coming back to the house; expecting him to agree with her, Esme was left dumbfounded when he sided with her mother.

Things were tense in that regard. Not long after, Esme's father invited friends of the family over for dinner. In tow, was the considerably older but respectable Charles Evenson.

Despite not saying it outright, Esme knew what her parents expected from this introduction. Soon enough, Charles had proposed and, knowing she couldn't possibly say no, Esme accepted.

Esme's introduction to Charles was the beginning of a deteriorating relationship with her mother. His behaviour after they married causing it to erode even more. The final straw was when Esme asked for her parents' help. To see her mother choose to turn a blind eye and suggest Esme do the same while also suggesting her daughter alter her behaviour to appease Charles, Esme felt the beginnings of ambiguous grief pushing them apart. The woman who she loved and respected was becoming no more than a stranger to Esme.

When Esme appeared at her parents' doorstep with tear streaked cheeks having just received the news Charles was coming home from war, Esme had hoped that her mother would be as sad for her daughter as Esme was for herself.

In the brief respite Esme had with Charles' absence, Esme had begun to become like that 16 year old girl once more. She was safe, she allowed herself to dream about moving west and pursuing teaching, she dreamed about the freedom Charles' death would grant her and the promise fulfilled to her parents. How could they expect her to marry again after becoming widowed? No, for all intents and purposes, Charles was the love of her life (after she changed her ways, of course) and she would be devastated.

When her mother called her ungrateful, selfish, devilish for the heartache his survival caused her, Esme's mother had completely died that day. Her father did nothing more than agree with his wife, worried he'd be scorned if not, and so she lost both parents that day.

As soon as Esme discovered she was pregnant, she was terrified. Yet despite the fear, Esme knew that she needed to do everything in her power to protect her unborn child. In fact, it caused her to despise her mother for not treating Esme with the same love and protection. Esme realised—bitterly so—that if her mother had cared even a fraction of how Esme cared about her baby, then she would have and would do. Her mother's indifference was a choice. Any love that may have lingered between them entirely diminished.

As much as Esme loved her child, she could never have expected the love she felt upon holding him in her arms for the first time. His birth (something she wished her mother to be present for) was hard and lonely, but feeling the weight of a newborn in her arms, the reason for fighting as hard as she had, Esme couldn't describe the love she had for him.

She could never imagine treating her son the way her parents had treated her, especially her mother.

When he first got sick, Esme didn't sleep. She held him constantly, watching him breathe even if he struggled, desperate for him to make it through the night. When she finally felt him go limp in her arms, grief was overshadowed by blinding rage.

Why did her mother get to have Esme? Why did this woman who couldn't love her even an ounce of the way Esme loved her son, get to have a child?!

It felt nothing more than divine punishment despite not being very religious. In fact, it made her feel like nothing more than punishment bestowed upon her from a mother who wished to discipline a disobedient child.

The grief wasn't simply the child she lost, but the life she had lost with him. She was going to show this boy the love that should have been showed to her. She was going to support his every dream and never turn him away in times of need.

Once Esme had been changed, that lingering need to love unconditionally remained. It's why she welcomed Edward back with open arms, why she always had an open door policy with Rosalie and allowed the other members of her coven to come to her with anything. Esme had lost her child, but she could try and be the mother she had always wanted to be to those in her coven who needed it.

[gooberino]

Thoughts on fictional dads and childhood trauma part 1

Gonna get pretty personal for a moment, and talk about my childhood trauma so scroll past if that's not something you can handle rn <3 Just want to have this written down somewhere.

Been thinking about why I obsess over fictional dilfs so much while I have a pretty dysfunctional relationship with my own father. Growing up my father was not a loving and caring person, he very much had the pull yourself up by your bootstraps and keep your emotions to yourself attitude. For himself, me and my family. He was insulting, mean, rarely ever gave praise, and everything we did as a family was controlled by him. We were expected to make HIM happy, and he got upset when we didn't fit his mold of a perfect family.

I don't think you understand how frustrating it is being 22 and your dad STILL being unable to take accountability for his past actions. While still craving the affection and validation of that same awful person.

I can remember getting dizzy and throwing up on a bike ride, and my dad angrily pushing me to keep going when I wanted to go back home to rest up. Then the following day we went on another bike ride to appease him.

I can remember my sister crying to me that he had threatened to break her dogs neck if she didn't get her shit together. (She was struggling with money and mental problems at the time from my memory.)

I can remember holding back tears when he was trying to teach me math and would make fun of me and insult me when I couldn't solve a problem.

I could fill a book with the amount of traumatic and dysfunctional ways he's behaved towards me and my family. The bottom line is nothing is good enough for him. No matter what accomplishment you tried to share, there was always something you could do to make it better. The walk should be multiple hours to count as a "good" walk. You need to live life with an education and a well paying job to be considered valid etc.

To then have your siblings and mother who are all just as traumatized be able to forgive him and willingly accept him in their life. It's isolating and it hurts. How can you just forgive someone who's caused you so much grief? I want to participate in my family but it's immensely difficult when I struggle to relate to them and my dad is still incredibly present in it, still being unchallenged on his views.

Now that's my dad and how he's traumatized me. But how did that affect me later on and most interesting how on earth does that connect to obsessing over fictional dads!?

I'll get to it in the next post, if you genuinely read everything I had to say I really appreciate you! <3

[knoxs2nd]

thinking on yasu's views on kinzo and why she feels compelled to understand him (and why her understanding him has to happen, thematically) is because she's grappling with the fact that he is her culprit

with the understanding that witches = culprits, and with the understanding that up until now, yasu had been playing this game where she cast herself in the role of witch/culprit because

1) it's fun

2) culprits are *interesting*

unpiecing the culprit's heart is the most important and most rewarding part of the mystery novel, of life. in yasu's view of the world, being a witch is great fun, but there's also a part of her that would like to be understood, for someone to understand her "force of heart"

but up until november 29, 1984...yasu had never really had to face a culprit in her real life. she had been idealizing the narrative importance of the culprit and how emotional and human they must be, and fantasizing herself in that role.

learning of kinzo's past, she comes to the visceral realization that the culprit has to commit a crime. something that ruins other people's lives, that steals their happiness away from them. his sin that resulted in yasu like this, feeling cursed from birth and subhuman.

of course yasu feels repulsed by him! of course she is disgusted by the fact that she is borne of his blood! he committed unforgivable crimes that killed so many people, left so many others traumatized, and then cursed her with this Single Truth, that it's all his fault.

but at the same time...she had seen him at his death, when he found out about her existence. before she knew about his being her culprit. at that time, when confronted with kinzo, she couldn't hate him.

she was bewildered, yes, but she had been on the receiving end of that "force of heart" right there, and all she could do in that moment was grant kinzo's final request to call him "father" and bring him peace...she wanted to forgive and save him, then...

the thing is. yasu had already "forgiven" kinzo when he died. she can't exactly take back the fact that she called him father and that he died without regrets, or how, right then and there, she felt moved and like she'd done the right thing.

she learns of his sins only afterwards (thanks, team genji) and the exact nature of how he'd been the cause of all her suffering. and. what then? feel so revolted and wish she hadn't done it? but she had also been witness to his immense grief, madness, and regret.

she can't blindly forgive him, like she unwittingly already did, nor can she blindly hate him, because...she still felt for him when he died, as two human beings, as a part of her worldview that values understanding the heart's mysteries as the basis of human connection...

for her own sake, yasu needs to understand kinzo and what drove him, the heart that could both commit such terrible crimes and yet spend decades trying to repent.

just as we come to understand yasu as umineko's culprit, yasu comes to understands kinzo, her - beatrice's - culprit.

[myshipmyway]

[Star Trek] Horsing Around

The only reason I'm not applying names to Pike's horses here is because I'm not sure of the details for SNW. Tango and Mary Lou were in Mojave, but were they past horses or did he have them in Montana or is that information no longer current? So I thought, instead of obsessing over tiny details and not writing at all, I'd just omit the names. 'Cause that's better than being completely wrong.

Right?

Yes.

I'm getting rusty as hell so forgive any weirdness.

***

Bear Creek, Montana, late 2259.

"Are you insane?"

Captain Christopher Pike regarded his protesting Ensign with an arched brow. They were leaning together against the fence behind his Bear Creek home, watching the horses go about their business, and just… existing without expectations.

Until Chris dropped a verbal bomb: he wanted Aurelia to get to know his horses. How many times had she said they terrified her? Big, sofa-sized animals with anxiety, that's what they were. Chris couldn't imagine how anybody could be afraid of horses.

"I think it's a good test of your mettle," Chris replied. He gave her shoulder a light nudge, and the younger woman crossed her arms over her chest and scowled beneath her cowboy hat.

He had told her to dress for the ranch. The reasoning was suddenly obvious.

"It's the last thing you need to do for your promotion," he casually added. She glanced at him, then did so again and tipped the brim of her hat up out of her face.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah, really," Chris said. 

It took every ounce of willpower he had for Captain Pike to keep a straight face as he watched the Ensign consider his request. Over the course of forty-five seconds he watched her go through the five stages of grief and discover another stage or two along the way.

It was when her gaze dropped to her shiny new cowboy boots that Chris realized he may have overstepped. Her mumbled, "Okay, I guess," made him tilt his head and frown. Oh. Aurelia was never that quiet—unless she was upset.

"Aurelia," the Captain gently started, "I wouldn't ask you to do something that would hurt you. You're getting the promotion regardless—because of your hard work. I'd like you to get to know my horses because I want to share the things that I enjoy with the people I care about."

The younger woman blinked up at him and he watched her cheeks turn pink.

"I thought you were being hyperbolic whenever you said you were terrified of horses," he admitted. "I'm sorry. Maybe—why don't we figure out something else to do?"

More blinking. She stared past him at the horses for a moment, then looked up at him with an unexpectedly big smile.

"You'll be with me the entire time, right?" She asked, "And you'll show me exactly what to do?"

"Scout's honour," he assured her. Chris offered Aurelia his hand, and she considered it for a moment before nodding her approval. Yeah. She could do this.

"Let's see if your horses like me better than my cousins' did," the Ensign quipped as she grasped her Captain's hand.

A wave of relief washed over him. He gazed absently at their joined hands, a faint smile tugging at his lips—there was some deja-vu in that, the sort for something that maybe hadn't happened yet. Was there such a thing? That smile turned to a proper boyish grin and he said, "I won't let them eat you, I promise."

Her snorted laughter made him laugh, too, and he led her off into the field.

***

About six feet from where his horses stood was when Aurelia stopped and froze up. She clung to his arm, and he gently reassured her—in much the same tone he'd use to calm his animals—that everything was alright. She was safe. Chris instructed her to hold out her hand while he fished some sugar cubes out of his jacket, and once she'd done that, he gently set the treats in her palm.

"Hold your hand out flat—yeah, like that," he said, and he whistled sharply. Both horses turned, their ears perked, and they trotted over. They reminded Aurelia of great big dogs, except dogs couldn't trample you to death.

Could they?

He softly introduced the horses, the other loves of his life, to the petrified young woman. He kept one arm around her shoulders so she wouldn't forget he was there. As one of the horses claimed the sugar cubes—loudly snuffling all the while—Aurelia barked laughter.

"That… that tickles," she squeaked.

Chris fed his other horse (couldn't just treat one and not the other, after all) and then lightly nudged his companion toward its flank. He patted the animal's neck, then glanced down at Aurelia, who was already looking up at him.

"Like this," he said.

She planted her hand against the horse's neck, too, and her Captain guided her through giving proper pets and scritches. She was starting to relax. Maybe it was him, maybe it was the realization that they weren't going to hurt her, or perhaps it was a combination of the two. When the first horse came over and started nosing her shoulder for attention, Aurelia didn't even flinch. She laughed.

"Better than your cousin's horses?" Chris asked. She beamed up at him.

"Y-Yeah, yeah. A lot better," she said. 

He wasn't sure if he was feeling pride, or something else entirely.

***

It had turned out to be a good day despite the rough start.

Chris was sitting back against a tree, Aurelia beside him, her hat pulled down over her face. She was fast asleep. One horse stood with her, nibbling on her hair, not a care in the world while the other grazed nearby.

It was… nice.

The Captain lay his head back against the tree, closed his eyes, sighed. It was one of those moments that he desperately wished to commit to his memory.

His future would rob him of his ability to do so many things, including this—spending quality time with his people and his horses, outside of the confines of the indoors. He frowned. How many of those people would stay once he was…?

Don't think about it. Just enjoy the moment.

Aurelia had gradually been leaning closer and closer while Chris was lost in his thoughts, and he startled when he finally felt her fall against his shoulder. She stirred, and the horse stared indignantly at her for daring to move.

"Nap time's over," Chris teased. "You're shivering."

The young Ensign slowly sat upright; her Captain took her hat and plopped it back on top of her head. He gradually got up off the ground, stretching, and grunted in protest when Aurelia grabbed hold of him to pull herself to her feet. 

"Did I pass the vibe check?" She asked, and he chuckled softly as he patted her shoulder. Both horses were following them to the gate, one occasionally trying to catch nibbles of the blonde woman's hair while they walked. Aurelia didn't notice.

"Yeah, I think you did."

He smiled to himself and shook his head.