#arguing further is just a waste of both of our times

[natsmagi]

sorry, i really don’t get you because you say you draw tsumugi with the body you do because she ‘seems like the type of girl who would have a good body (weird that you call that kind of ‘no fat but on the boobs sex doll body’ good but okay?) but covers it up’ and then don’t draw her covered up.

like you draw her in tiny skirts with her ass hanging out and shit constantly, in every one of your drawings is her body emphasised and on show and i just want to know what your fucking deal is? not only does it feel really mischaracterising for tsumugi, but it’s just really weird and gross. also you’ve literally never drawn a single fat character, all your characters are stick thin with different boob and hip sizes.

are we seriously doing this again. its ok to not like my art. its ok to not have it be to your tastes. its ok to disagree with my portrayals. it doesnt need to be much deeper than that

your rephrasing of my quotes is misleading though. ive re-emphasized the point more clearly before, but my points are based on societal standards and expectations, not my own personal preferences. big boobs small waist is the body type that gets ogled at the most, stereotypically speaking, so it makes it fun for her to have that body as her personality and the way she carries herself isnt whats commonly associated with it. with my depictions i try to take context into question. i dont just give the character a body or appearance that i like, i try to think how i can translate their character along with changing their figure (if at all). of course, i am not perfect, my stuff will not appeal to everyone and my takes might be disagreeable, and thats ok.

as for my tsumugi depiction; i dont know what you want me to say. tsumugi wears a button-up shirt with pants and a belt in canon. in my femstars version i simply change the pants into a pencil skirt. the belt is synched around the waist. its gonna make her waist look smaller than it is, as the belt is highlighting that area and creating contrast. this is a common way to dress and i honestly dont think i draw her in revealing clothes too often? like yea it happens. duh. and ive drawn some horny and suggestive art with her to add. but i do not think i go out of my way to flaunt her body or have her wear as little as humanly possible (which i dont even think would be an issue. an artist having fun is not the end of the world). i mainly do it when its, again, a suggestive drawing, or when its been for a joke. its not really meant to be anything deep sure, maybe she has her cleavage out every once in a while, but thats just. Her having boobs. i give natsume revealing clothes just as, if not more often than i do tsumugi, but people dont seem to care/notice as shes rather curveless. and idol clothes are separate from personal clothes that theyd casually wear because its what they enjoy, and its the idol clothes that tend to have that more "attractive" tinge to them her body isnt the focal point of my art very often either?? like if ur just staring at her boobs in every single one of my drawings atp thats on u

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Knight

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Gwayne Hightower Couple - Gwayne X Reader Reader - Visenya Hightower (Daughter of Rhaenyra and Wife of Gwayne) Rating - 15 Word Count - 1715

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch, me again! Can I request again in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? I really love the Oscar Tully I requested, how you write it is simply divine! But now I’d like to request a Gwayne Hightower story. Wherein he is married to Rhaenyra’s sister named “Visenya” (many years after Alicent’s marriage to Viserys) to have a stronger bond between Hightower and Targaryen. But the thing is that they both resided in Old Town. They both had their first child, a girl the same age as Daeron and now expecting another one. No spice please, just Gwayne being the best husband and father ever, being really clingy and touchy, showering sweet words and kisses to his wife exactly like a simp haha. I am a million times grateful if you do this request, thank you! <33

Gwayne rides into the stables, pulling up and dismounting his horse bag slung over his shoulder. He tries to hurry his way inside fast and easy but finds the Maester pestering him as he walks

"Ser, Ser, A raven from your sister," The short man bobbles about following Gawyne around the yard,

Gwayne lets out a sigh, “What does my sister want?”

"She requests for you to take coach and begin the road to king's landing, Ser."

Gwayne grumbles, rubbing his forehead. “By the gods do I need to spell it out for her… no. I am not going to Kings Landing.”

"But Ser-" He began,

Gwayne held up his hand, stopping the man there. “What part of “no” are you unable to comprehend? I will not be going to that viper’s nest, I do not care for how much my sister begs and nags, nothing she can say will change my mind.” Gawyne sighed once more, "I will not risk such a movement, I will not do it. Visenya could begin her labours any day I will not risk taking her on the road in her condition much less to Kings Landing just to please my sister. Visenya will remain here, in our bed-chamber, with her maids and maesters while we wait for the baby. and I will be here. By her side."

The Maester began to argue more but at this,

“Do. Not. Push. Me.” Gwayne turned to face him, a growl upon his lips.

the Maester froze like a deer in the headlights at this, his legs going still and his lip quivering slightly as he nodded his head. The maester grumbled but relented, knowing he was not going to get any further than that, “Very well, ser, I shall inform your sister… again.”

Gwayne let out a scoff, running a hand through his hair in a bout of frustration. “I would not waste your birds on my sister… I’m certain she has a mind to flay you alive if you say “no” once more.” Gwayne heads inside the Hightower, heading up the many stairs to his chambers, already he felt a giddy smile as he opened the door.

The balcony doors open letting a soft breeze blow in from the sunset sea, the sweet canopy bed shaded by wooden screens. And there she lay Visenya his beloved wife. Long hair messy from her rest, wearing only her long white nightgown and her socks, her baby bump ripe and ready to pop any day. She hums softly as she slowly sews little baby clothes.

Gwayne stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her with a soft smile. He thanked the gods she was his, and questioned whatever luck he had been given for the brief time just to call her his own. He could have watched her forever, until Oldtown and the Hightower sank into the sea. But he moved further into the room, closing the doors behind him. He sets his bag down beside the bed, walking over and sitting on the edge. He looks at her sewing before his eyes move up to her face, his smile only growing. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, then her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, then her jaw, then her collar, then her chest, then her bump, where he finally stops. He reaches out, resting his hand on her belly, rubbing it softly with a gentle smile. “Are you working on the clothes again, my love?”

she nodded "Mhm, I made our little knight some little socks to warm his tiny toes,"

Gwayne chuckled softly, grinning at the thought of their child and their tiny little toes ripe for kisses and tickles, “How shall our little night shall be to have such tiny socks, why I could fit the whole knight in my sock,”

“And poison the poor lad,” she joked,

“You are cruel to me my love,” he teased giving her another kiss, “You know not yet if it is a boy or girl, love…”

"No, we shall have to be surprised."

Gwayne smiled softly, taking her hand in one of his and intertwining their fingers. “Indeed, though regardless, I’m certain they will be a gorgeous and strong child. They have us as parents, after all…”

she nodded with a giggle in agreement,

“And I spent the day in the Old Town gardens and I gathered you enough Moonblooms for a whole batch of soap.” He cooed glancing to his bag, “As soon as your hungry let me know and I will make it myself for you,”

“Thank you darling,” she cooed, "What did the maester want, he came looking for you earlier"

Gwayne let out a sigh, he laid down resting his head on her bump in such a way he could still look at her face, “Ummm have I ever told you how beautiful you are,”

“Yes you have,” she smiled, “Maseter… wanted… what?” She reminds,

“You know just staggeringly beautiful,”

“Gwayne!” she complained, “Don’t just avoid the topic,” She warns, “You are causing me distress,” She teased rubbing her belly,

“More ravens from my sister, demanding my presence in Kings’ Landing… I once again refused, I will not take you on the road with you in your current state. It is not fair to you, nor the babe.”

"You know she will not stop her asking until she feels the babe in her arms"

He let out another sigh, “I do not care how many ravens she sends, I will continue to refuse her. I will not risk you or our baby for my sister’s whims.” he explained, “It is three months ride to kings landing, swiftly and you are in no condition to travel for that long, let along be on any swift movements. Our babe will be born by the time we arrive and I will not risk you and our baby’s health to have your labours in the back of a coach. No. You will be here. With all the citadel’s maesters to aid you, all your handmaidens. And I by your side. In your own bed, with your own views, Visenya,” he took her hand in his holding it to his chest,

"But don't you want to take your beautiful wife, swollen heavy with your babe to court to show off?" she teased

Gwayne chuckled, bringing the back of her hand to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it.

“While seeing you in court would be wonderful, you are more important then any lords, ladies or my sister. You are my wife, my love, my Visenya.”

He shifted once more so he was lying partially on top of her, his body mostly on her side, his head now against her torso. He wrapped his arms around her waist, He listened to the sound of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart, and most importantly the sound of the little pitter-patter of their child’s own delicate little heartbeat. Everything was perfect, here in this moment in his mind, often he whispered sweet cooes to her and peppered her with kisses telling her and their baby how much he adores them,

Suddenly the door to the chamber flies open

"Did I miss it!" Lianna yelled in panic, standing at the door in her green gown, fresh from her library session with her cousin Daeron,

Gwayne nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden shout from the doorway, not expecting his daughter’s sudden appearance. The surprise was soon replaced with a sigh and a chuckled at the girl’s question. “Miss what, Lianna?”

"My baby brother!" She bolted over jumping onto their bed with excitement

Gwayne chuckled, shaking his head, his hands going to her little arms to prevent her from accidentally moving the bed too hard, knowing Visenya needed to be on her back most of the time these days. “Lianna, you’ve asked this every day for two months, and it’s always the same answer. Your brother has not arrived yet.”

"Why not?"

Gwayne sighed, smiling at his impatient, and at times, irritatingly stubborn daughter. “Because these things take time, sweetling. Give it another month or two, you’ll have your baby brother to dote on and bother all the time.”

lianna nodded, and pulled a bundle of flowers from her back "For you mama," She offered the flowers to Visenya,

"Awww thank you my sweet girl," she cooed taking the flowers from her, setting them in a vase beside the bed with the flowers’ Lianna brought her yesterday, but keeping one out to rub on her belly to soothe the little baby within,

Gwayne scooted over, The sight made him smile. Lianna was so sweet, though a handful at times. “Those are beautiful Lianna, you did well with them,”

“Lianna, would you like to feel your sibling move? I can feel our little knight right now…”

Lianna immediately came to rest her hands on Visenya's belly "I feel him! I feel him!"

Gwayne chuckled softly, watching Lianna rest her hands on her mother’s belly, a smile upon her face. He reached out, gently resting his own hand over Visenya’s stomach, smiling at the feeling of their child moving around in there. He could practically feel Lianna’s excitement, and he smiled softly at their daughter’s enthusiasm for the little one.

Visenya chuckled, placing her own hand over her Gwaynes, both of them now resting on her stomach.

“See? He’s a little knight indeed. He has been very active lately, moving around in there quite a lot.”

“Umm, I think he is almost ready to join us,” He smiled,

“I think so too,” 

[livelaughlovesubs]

okay my dude, have you seen the recent hsr leaks about mr. reca??2?2?2?2?1!#+@( I am so down bad for that man you wouldn't understand........ anyways, I'd like to ask for prompt 28 (fitting them with a collar) with him :3333

- anon

I saw!!! But I don’t have a single clue what his personality is like! I’d guess a fun but sly character? Welp, let’s see how this goes (I have no ideas help)

Dom!Actor!reader x sub!Reca - reader is GN

Warning: collaring, teasing, fwb…?

Anniversary event

“Oh come y/n, for old time’s sake, do it for me, alright?” You clicked your tongue, not even looking at the individual who was talking to you, back facing to them with your arms crossed, “I won’t do it, I told you already.” A moment of silence, before they sighed and closed the distance between you two, “why won’t you take that role?”

“Mr. Reca, will you please respect my choices?” Suddenly you turned around and raised your voice, seeing him lean against the couch in the middle of the room, wearing a fading smile. “I need you for that role, there’s no one else who can take it.” He repeated once again, then continued with, “and I won’t leave until I’ve convinced you, or, if you gave me a reason for your decision.” You slammed one hand onto the makeup table in front of you, putting the other against your forehead. “If I gave you a reason, you’ll have hope, and keep trying.”

The male kept quite, he couldn’t argue with that one, “if it because of the writing? Or the personality of the character?” You shook your head, “no, none of that. Don’t bother me any further, Reca, don’t let our friendship go to waste because of some measly dispute.” He scoffed, grinning widely, throwing his head back in a defeated stance, “I’ve already got sponsors and began the preparations, I can’t go back now. Y/n, help me out, I don’t want to end up as minced meat.”

You chuckled, answering his plead with a sarcastic smile, “it’s your own fault. Don’t worry, I can introduce you to some actors.” Reca looked down to his feet, taking a deep breath, exhaling, before staring you in the eyes, “no, I still want you, and I won’t have it any other way.” After debating for so long, you thought he’d finally crave in, though it seems you underestimated his resolve. “Reca, i-” “yea yea, you don’t want to, got it. So, what can I do to convince you?”

Your eyes widened at that, it took you a while to compose yourself, “wow, your resolve is admirable, but I don’t think I’ll fold.” The brunette stepped away from the couch, getting closer to you, mumbling, “don’t be shy now~ you can request whatever you want. A deal, of some kind, what do you think?” It’d be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued, just how far could you push his buttons, you wondered. “Whatever?” You repeated his words in a questioning tone.

“Whatever.”

“Do your movies mean more to you than your life?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelieve. “Let’s see what I can make you do.” His eyes lit up, his usual cheerfulness returned, “so you agree? Haha! You have my gratitude, y/n! Aeons, lemme kiss you.” Out of nowhere he hugged you and kissed you on the cheeks, both sides, before taking a few steps back. You on the other hand froze, blinking a few times, remembering his eccentric tendencies, then gagging out a, “don’t thank me- it’s a mutual deal.”

“Right, that reminds me, got any idea what you want?” Reca smirked again, he was in a usually good mood now. “I’ll just have you as my pet.” You eventually said, then you specified your statement, “ah, and I’ll only cooperate as long as you are my pet.” When you looked over at him again, his mouth hung agape, red eyes shrunk a little while he stood there like a statue. “…you are joking.” He asked carefully. “I’m not.”

An awkward silence broke out once more, luckily he broke the ice after a few seconds, though it was done with a condescending comment, “Right, you were an eccentric like that.” A breathy laugh escape you, “hah, says who?” You two kept eye contact for a while, then he gave up and hide his face in his hand, groaning, “urghhhhhhh.” A faint blush covered his ears, and probably his cheeks as well.

“So?” You questioned, wondering if that was too much for him. “What? Of course i agree.” Reca frowned, an embarrassed scorn on his face, why were you so nonchalant about all of this? After getting his consent, you couldn’t help but sigh, “You really are a slave to your production.” He grinned again, winking at you, “Aren’t we all slaves to our desires?”

You thought about it, opening the drawer of the furniture behind you, taking something out before taking a few steps closer to the rather tall male in front of you. “Yea, you are right, it’s a part of being human I guess.” Then you wrapped the leather around his neck, pulling gently, tightening it. When you were done, you raised his chin, teasing him with a hint of irony, “don’t take it off, it’s a gift from me, your master.” His breathing hitched, but he didn’t back down, feeling the weight of the situation finally catching up to him.

“I’m sure the movie will turn out great, all thanks to you.” He then stated, rubbing the collar around his neck, feeling a weird sense of comfort inside him. You nodded, “of course it will, I don’t tolerate failures.” Reca laughed softly, then whispered meekly, “right. For that, I’ll be a good pet in return, master.”

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.8k (barely proof read </3)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife and Pregnant!Reader, angst…like heavy angst, family issues (Kenji’s daddy issues, shocker), emotional breakdown, crying, Reader has a small accident (she’s in her third trimester), somewhat satisfying ending….

𝐀/𝐍: *grabs your shirt and looks at you dead in the eye* girl, if you knew how much I busted my ass for this fic—

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While Kenji grapples with the pressure of becoming a father, he receives an unexpected invite from his own.

Kenji sat still on the couch with the latest images of the ultrasound staring back at him in his hands. His finger traced over the picture, lingering on the tiny form of the baby.

Despite the due date being a couple of months away, he still couldn’t fully grasp the reality of soon becoming a father. Each kick and shift he would feel from your growing stomach was a reminder of the new life that would soon be dependent on him.

He felt a series of emotions— anticipation, a hint of anxiety, but most of all, excitement. Kenji’s mind wandered to the future, imagining the day when he would hold his baby for the first time.

For a long time, he had always adopted the ‘cross the bridge when I get there’ mindset, never fully prepared for the far future. But the moment you told him you were pregnant, his fatherly instincts already took over his mind— it had been a messy journey for the both of you, adjusting to this new chapter in your marriage.

You, sensing his preoccupation, gave him a look; a signal he had come to recognise as a precursor to important news.

But, that was only the beginning. A boulder dropped in a pail of stagnant water, creating ripples that disrupted the quiet flow of your lives

“Don’t be mad,” you said cautiously. Kenji felt skeptical about what you were going to say— his eyes scanned your face, trying to gauge what was coming.

“What did you do?” he said slowly. Usually, when you would say this, it would be something minor, like misplacing his best baseball bat or rearranging his meticulously organised items. Anything that was easily fixable.

But what you said next felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath him.

“I invited your dad over.”

He froze in his seat. For a moment, he didn’t say anything as he struggled to process your words.

His dad? Coming over?

Nothing could have prepared him for that. He hadn’t spoken to that man in years, and now, all of a sudden he wanted to come over. What was his motivation?

“Why did you invite him?” he asked, trying to conceal his frustration.

“He tried to call through Mina. I couldn’t ignore him.”

Kenji swallowed thickly, clenching his fist slightly “And when exactly is he coming?”

“Tonight.”

Kenji just pinched the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. There was no point wasting time arguing, especially when his father was due in a few hours. “Yeah, okay, fine. He can come over, I guess,”

“Are you mad?” You asked. His expression softened. He could never be mad at you. He knew this day would come eventually. He just didn’t expect it to be now, with a baby on the way. Maybe that was why his father wanted to come over.

“No, no. I’m not mad.” He cradled your face reassuringly. “Just a little annoyed, but I’ll be fine. He can come. I’ll greet him and then I’ll stay in our room until he leaves.”

Your face dropped in disappointment. “What?”

“Exactly as I said.” Kenji didn’t know what you were expecting from this. For him to reconcile with his father after years of silence? What a joke. “I’m not gonna sit with that guy for hours while he’s here.”

“That’s not how I imagined things would go.” Your face fell further, giving him a sullen look, hoping to coax him into changing his perspective.

“What did you expect me to do? Sit there for hours and make small talk?” Kenji scoffed. “Do you know how long it’s been since I last talked to him?”

He felt he was already being courteous by allowing his father inside. That was more than enough. He didn’t owe him anything else.

“He might help you with being a dad and give you some advice.”

Kenji almost laughed at that. Oh, the irony. His father was the last person to give him parenting advice. “No. I don’t need his advice. I can figure this out on my own. Don’t you understand?”

The rest of the day flew by, and the evening rolled in quicker than Kenji anticipated. Each hour that passed knotted the tension in his chest, making it harder to breathe properly.

Soon, there was an alert of a visitor outside the Ultrabase. Kenji let out a tired sigh, “I’ll…I’ll answer it.”

He rose from the bed and padded his way to the front door. His mind was a mess, and he didn’t know what to expect. He took a few deep breaths to calm his erratic heart before finally opening the door.

Kenji’s mood immediately soured when he finally made eye contact with his father. Seeing him for the first time in years sent an icy feeling through him.

“Dad…” he greeted, keeping his voice controlled.

“Kenji…it’s been a while, son.” Hayao said cautiously. Kenji towered over his father’s frame, noticing the crutches beside him. Despite the height difference, Hayao seemed smaller and more vulnerable with his old age

If the situation were different, Kenji would have only opened the door enough to fit his head out, blocking his father’s view of the inside. In fact, he might have not answered the door at all. He wouldn’t have allowed him access back into life. To keep that chasm between father and son.

But he knew that you were expecting him, so he opened the door wider and stood to the side to make room. “I suppose you should come in.”

Just as expected, you were standing beside him, waiting patiently to finally meet the unsolicited guest.

“Professor Sato.” You gave your warmest smile.

Hayao turned his attention to you as he stepped further into your house. This was the first time you saw each other face to face since he hadn’t attended the wedding. If only the situation didn’t feel so stiff, Kenji would’ve been thrilled for you to meet his dad.

He watched his father’s gaze shift to your growing belly as you rested your hands on it. Kenji’s protective instinct flared.

“Ah, hello dear. I must say, you are positively glowing.” Hayao complimented.

“I’m sorry for the short invite.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. I can tell I’ve come unannounced…but the sooner I see my grandchild, the better.”

His grandchild? The possessive pronoun left a bitter taste in Kenji’s mouth. It stung that his father was now trying to insert himself into their lives.

“Just a few months to go,” you said, trying to maintain a calm tone. Hayao reached over to place his hand on your bump. Kenji’s first instinct was to swat his hand away and tell him not to touch his wife.

But he held himself back, and allowed you to handle the situation. You didn’t pull away and let Hayao feel the baby’s movements.

“And how is the baby doing? Kicking a lot…I assume?” Hayao asked.

“Yeah, they’re very active,” you replied with a light laugh.

“Ah, I can imagine the little one must be feisty.”

Kenji stood off to the side, silently observing the interaction. He hadn’t moved an inch from the doorway as his dad interacted with you so casually.

His face morphed into a bitter rage, not understanding why his father was acting so excited and caring about your child. They hadn’t spoken in years, and yet here he was, acting as if nothing had happened.

He was probably only doing it to avoid causing an uncomfortable scene in front of you, much to Kenji’s relief. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into his family issues.

Hayao spoke again, completely oblivious to Kenji’s inner turmoil, “Any idea on the sex yet?”

You shook your head, still holding your excited expression. You didn’t have anyone to share the news with, so Kenji couldn’t blame you for your giddiness. “We wanted to keep it a surprise.”

Kenji clenched his jaw. He didn’t like the way Hayao was observing your growing belly. “You know, you remind me of my wife when she was pregnant. She always had a glow, even at the last phase.”

Kenji felt like he had just been dunked in a tub of ice. It hadn’t even been a minute, and already his father is bringing up his mother. But what his father said next did not sit right with him.

“I have some experience in the field of pregnancy. Some challenges might come up. But don’t worry, I’m here to help any way I can.”

No thanks.

“Thank you.” You said, your gratitude seemed genuine. “Uhm, do you want to take a seat? I’ll bring some tea,”

“Yes, thank you, dear.” Hayao smiled and sat down on one of the couches, making himself comfortable. His eyes flickered back at Kenji who hadn't said a word yet. “Actually, do you mind if I speak with Kenji for a few minutes in private?”

“Of course. I’ll get the tea ready,” you left before disappearing in the kitchen, leaving Kenji alone with his father.

The floor felt like hot coal. So much for escaping his dad’s presence in the bedroom. Hayao waited until you were out of sight before he turned to face Kenji.

“I’m glad you didn’t walk out the second I showed up. Your wife is very kind…” He paused, waiting to see if Kenji would say anything. He gave no response, so Hayao asked, “Can we talk? Just the two of us?”

“What do you want to talk about, Dad?”

“I want to talk about us. You and I. We’ve been…distant for a long time,”

That was putting it lightly, but Kenji held his tongue. His father was probably already aware of that.

“Dad…it’s been twenty years. Twenty years of you suddenly becoming distant from us. You never were around when Mom and I needed you,”

Twenty years. To his father, it might seem like just a fraction of his life, given his old age— a couple of decades.

But to Kenji, those two decades were everything. It was enough time for him to nearly erase his father from his thoughts entirely.

“I know it’s been a long time, but I’m here now, trying to make amends and make up for lost time.”

“Amends? You can’t just show up and expect everything to be fine, Dad. Do you think you can mend everything with just some apologies and small talk?”

“I know it won't fix everything. But I want to be a part of your life again, especially now with my grandchild on the way,”

“So that’s what it’s about? You’re only here because of the baby. Where were you when I was growing up? Why did you stay in Japan and leave me and Mom in America?”

“I always thought about you, Kenji. Always keep an eye on you from afar.” Hayao said gently. “But I admit, the thought of becoming a grandparent has made me realise the importance…the importance of family.”

If he kept an eye on him from afar, why couldn’t he be there in person? Why wasn’t he l there face-to-face, especially when it mattered most? Why wait twenty years?

Hayao continued. “I want to make it up to you, be there for you and for your child.”

Kenji stayed silent after that. The conversation wasn't going anywhere, and there were many unresolved issues that needed to be addressed if any real progress was to be made.

His mind was conflicted with his warring thoughts. One one hand, there was a lingering fear about letting his father in which will lead to further disappointment and pain.

On the other hand, despite harboring a deep resentment towards his father, there was a small part of him that hoped that this might be a chance to heal old wounds.

“Kenji! Can you help me with the tea please?” Your voice tore through the suspension in the room, making Kenji’s suffocation disappear.

“Yeah, coming,” he called back, casting one last glance at his father before heading to the kitchen, leaving the tension in the living room behind.

Kenji found you attending the water on the stove with a teapot and three mugs on a tray. Being in the kitchen with you, away from his father felt like a breath of fresh air— the tension in his shoulders ebbed away, replaced by the comforting normalcy of being alone with you.

“Soo…how’s it going?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“It’s…going I guess.” Kenji sighed deeply. “Talking to my dad is harder than I thought it would be.” He hadn’t fully grasped how many old wounds will be torn open just from his father's presence alone.

“Kenji.” Your voice softened. Kenji's gaze fixated on the hand that was resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.

He brought his hand to hold yours as if anchoring himself. “Yeah…?”

“I know it’s tough, especially with your mom not being around anymore. And I know I don’t know the full story of your childhood and your pain…but he’s the only family we have.”

“Yeah, I know but it’s not easy. It’s hard to trust him when he hasn't been around for twenty years.”

“Do you think you could give him a chance?” You paused for a moment before you added, “If not for yourself, then at least for the baby. I really want them to know their grandparents,” you pleaded, your voice laced with hope.

Kenji closed his eyes as he processed your words. The thought of rebuilding a relationship with his father seems like an insurmountable task, a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

But, he knew how important this was for you, especially with your parents not around anymore. You wanted the baby to have a connection with their family, which also meant including everyone.

He opened his eyes to see you looking back up at him, waiting patiently for his response. It took a few seconds for him to trust himself to answer, “I…I’ll try, for you and the baby. But honestly, no promises.”

“That’s all I want to hear.” you said, your smile warm and comforting, “I love you…”

Kenji’s heart soared at that, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. “I love you too.”

You leaned closer until your lips captured his. Kenji felt his world stop the moment he felt your lips. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

After a moment, he pulled his lips away but he still held you close, resting his forehead on yours. A hint of a smile tugged on his lips but his voice didn’t hide the vulnerability he was feeling, “I’ll try and hear him out, but I know it’s not gonna be a walk in the park.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, but he kept it to himself, instead turning his attention to helping you in the kitchen. He took over brewing the tea, carefully pouring it into the teapot. He made sure not to accidentally jostle you while he set up the tray.

“Thanks for being patient with me, and for understanding. I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Kenji murmured, his voice carrying his gratitude.

“Thank you for not being mad at me for answering his call,” you replied. You were trying to be lighthearted, but he could sense the underlying concern— there was no doubt that you were anxious about how he’d react to the news about his dad

“How can I be mad at you for that? I know you meant well. You just want what’s best for our family.”

“He kept calling, I couldn’t ignore him.”

“I know, you’re too kind for your own good sometimes, you know that.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But seriously, you gotta stop answering unknown calls. Never know who’s on the other line.”

You laughed softly before placing the teapot on the tray. “Do you think I should make anything else?”

Kenji glanced back at the tray with the mugs and the teapot. “Nah, I think what you’ve got is plenty. The old man probably had enough caffeine today anyways.”

“Do you want me to go with you this time?”

Kenji nodded. He knew that having you there with him would make the conversation with his dad easier, especially when he felt on edge. “Yeah, let’s go. And if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand, okay?

Carrying the tray, Kenji felt his nerves calming as you walked beside him. Your quiet support was a steady force, and with your presence, he felt ready to face whatever conversation awaited in the living room.

He matched his steps to yours, moving slowly and carefully so you wouldn’t fall behind. The moment you stepped into the living room, Hayao straightened up, glancing back at your growing belly— which didn't escape Kenji’s notice.

He set the tray down on the table and took a seat on the couch, deliberately keeping his distance from his father.

“I hope green tea is okay for you,” you said, pouring the tea into Hayao’s cup before filling the other two mugs for yourself and Kenji.

Hayao nodded politely, steam curling from the rim as he picked up the cup with the freshly brewed tea. “Yes, thank you. Green tea is fine, I appreciate your hospitality,”

Kenji took his cup and leaned back against the couch, watching the exchange between you and his father. He was grateful the conversation wasn’t circling back to him. Right now, he needed a break from the emotional push and pull.

He kept his expression guarded, making no attempt to interrupt or intervene between the two of you, though he couldn’t ignore the swirl of conflicted emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“So…I hope you don’t mind me being here now,” you said sheepishly.

“No it’s not a bother. This tea is lovely, by the way. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s all homemade,”

“Ah, that explains why it’s good. My son is very lucky indeed,” Hayao said. Kenji could pick up on the hesitation in his father’s voice, as if he was carefully choosing each word, trying to not overstep.

But the simple topic of your homemade tea seemed to have thawed some of the ice. Hayao took another sip from his cup, his eyes on you as you continued the small talk.

“How are you feeling, though? I imagine pregnancy isn’t easy on the body,”

“Well…I would be a mess without Kenji.” You admitted, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Kenji’s heart throbbed at the gesture.

The ice melted further.

He felt you squeeze his hands softly, a silent nudge to encourage him to join the conversation. He steeled himself before he found his voice. “She’s just being modest. She’s been braving through morning sickness, swollen feet, and all the cravings like a champion,”

“That does sound like a journey. You have a strong woman there, Kenji.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m grateful everyday.” The pride in his voice was palpable, filling the space between them. Even Hayao could feel it from where he was sitting.

“I can see that. Your mother would be very proud to see the man you’ve become.”

And just like that, the ice quickly solidified again.

The words struck Kenji like a blow, his grip tightening around his mug. The pressure in his chest increased as the mention of his mother stirred memories he wasn’t ready to confront.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his voice controlled. “Dad…don’t,” he managed, his tone a mixture of warning and plea.

Hayao noticed the shift immediately, but he didn’t backpedal from the subject. There was a hint of remorse in his eyes, with his voice gentle but firm. “I know it’s a sensitive topic, Kenji. But I meant what I said. She would be proud of the family you’re building right now.”

He couldn’t deny the truth in his dads words, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. The pain was still raw. The topic was still too heavy for him to fully address at the moment.

“I…I need some air,” he muttered, rising abruptly from the couch. The connection between your hands broke, leaving your fingers grasping at empty space.

“Kenji…” you called after him, your voice laced with concern. Your hand looked empty without his. Kenji quickly teared his gaze away.

“I need a moment. I’ll be back,” the words came out more rushed than intended.

A hint of guilt tugged in his heart as he left without another word. He pushed past the door with the cool night air slapped against his face. The door closed behind him with a solid thud, the sound echoing in the sudden silence he left behind.

Kenji slumped onto one of the cold stone benches in the courtyard, dropping his head in his palms. As much as he hated to admit it, he really wished his mother was here right now. She would know exactly what to say, how to untangle the knot of emotions tightening in his chest.

Since the day of her disappearance, it felt like a piece of him had been ripped away, leaving a gaping void that nothing could fill. His entire world had darkened, but he forced himself to continue living, driven by a demanding career that wouldn’t allow him to pause, even when his heart was breaking.

And then things got more complicated. He had been thrusted back into Japan, not by choice but by obligation, to take up his father’s mantle as Ultraman. It was a role he never asked for, a burden he wasn’t ready to carry, especially not with the unresolved pain of his mother’s absence still weighing down on him.

But then he met you.

For the first time, he allowed himself to be swept away by someone who truly saw him, not just the hero or the star baseball player he was expected to be. You didn’t realise it, but you had a way of pulling him back from the edge. He wished he could tell you how much that meant to him, but he was never good at expressing it.

Now, with a child on the way— his child, who you were carrying and nurturing— he felt more helpless than ever. How could a baby rely on him when he couldn’t even keep his own emotions in check? How could he be a father when he crumbled at the mere mention of his mother?

The soft sound of the door opening could be heard from behind, but Kenji didn’t bother to look up. He knew it was you. His father wouldn’t be so thoughtless as to follow him after what had just happened.

“Kenji?” you called out softly, your footsteps growing closer. Kenji didn’t respond, his face still buried in his palm.

“Oh, Ken…” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. Kenji let out a weary sigh but didn’t look up.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Dad?” His voice came out rough, his irritation from earlier still simmering.

You sat down beside him, the bench cool beneath you. “No…not with you feeling like this,”

Kenji’s shoulders tensed, still refusing to meet your gaze. He was trembling slightly, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“I’m fine.” he said through gritted teeth, an obvious contradiction to his current state.

“Not with that tone, you’re not.”

“And so what if I’m not fine? What’s it to you anyways?” He snapped, his voice sharp like a razor blade. He regretted it immediately, hating himself for directing his frustration at you. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his messy relationship with his father.

But you could see right through his bullshit, as always. “Come here.” you coaxed, your voice soft and inviting. Kenji hesitated, his eyes flickered up to yours for the first time. He saw the warmth in your gaze that seemed to glow even under the darkness of the night with your open arms waiting to embrace him.

For a moment, his stubbornness kept him rooted in place, his pride demanding to stay strong, stay distant. But the comfort you offered was too tempting.

He turned his gaze away. “Why should I?”

“Let me hold you.” you whispered, arms still open for him.

Kenji looked back at you again, feeling his resolve weaken. He knew he couldn’t resist you— not when you were offering him the solace he desperately craved. He’d be a fool to reject it. With a heavy sigh, he gave in.

“Fine…” he shifted himself closer until he was in your embrace. He rested his head against your chest, his body relaxed as your warmth surrounded him.

The soft curve of your pregnancy bump nestled between the two of you, a reminder of the life brewing inside of you.

“Oh Kenji…” you murmured, gently stroking his face as he nuzzled into your neck. The rhythm of your heartbeat and the presence of the baby’s bump had a grounding effect on him. You felt like home— everything he needed right now.

The remorse from his earlier harsh tone towards you, combined with the aching absence of his mother, came crashing down. It was enough to shatter his pride as he leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice quivering with emotion.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you rubbed his back, soothing his frying nerves.

He didn’t realise how stiff his body was until he finally allowed him to relax in your embrace. It was rare for him to be this vulnerable, but being held like this in your arms, it was easy to let his guard down.

All the pent up pain and suffering he’d been carrying for years finally found release through his tears. He let out a soft sob against your neck, the fabric of your shirt growing damp.

After a long, quiet moment, you spoke again, “This is going to be more complicated than I imagined.”

“It’s all so complicated,” he echoed.

“I know…do you think we can resolve things before the baby arrives?”

“I..I don’t think I can fix everything…not with all that’s happening. But I don’t want our child to grow up in a house filled with tension.” Kenji admitted slowly.

“Me neither,” you agreed, the shared concern binding you closer.

“I’ll try. I’ll try to fix things. But I don’t even know where to start…it’s been too long…” his voice wavered with the remnant of his sobs. Yet, for once, he didn’t feel embarrassed about it this time. The weight of responsibility to make things right for the baby was daunting.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, filling him with a sense of reassurance. “We don’t have to fix everything tonight.”

“…you’re right.”

“But maybe we can at least end things on a civil note.”

Kenji nodded mutely, still feeling the residue of his tears but more at peace with his emotions now.

He pulled away from you and wiped his face with the back of his hands, smearing the last of his tears away.

“Are you okay with going back inside, or do you need more time?” You asked gently.

Kenji took a few steady breaths, his crying fully subsided. He met your gaze, then glanced back at the house, a newfound sense of resignation washing over him. “I’m okay…let’s head back,”

“Okay….We don’t want to keep you dad waiting any longer,”

Kenji stood from his seat and soothed his hair, trying to make himself look a little more presentable. He knew his eyes were probably red, and he might still look a bit disheveled from crying, but he was ready to face what came next.

You both walked back into the living room, hand in hand. Hayao looked up as you returned and sat down, his eyes briefly flickering over Kenji’s appearance.

Kenji was grateful his father didn’t comment on his puffy eyes.

“Sorry for the wait,” you said apologetically.

Hayao shook his head, a weary smile on his lips. “No need to apologise, dear. It needed to happen.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment. Kenji’s muscles were still rigid and his fingers subconsciously gripped your hand a little tighter.

Hayao gaze flickered between the two of you. He let out a quiet sigh, his action heavy with regret. “I suppose I should start, hm?”

Kenji nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Both of your gazes bore onto Hayao, waiting for what he was about to say.

“I…I know I haven’t been the best father to you, Kenji. I’ve been hard on you, too focused on Ultraman…I’ve put too much pressure on you and neglected everything else.” Hayao said softly, sadness evident in his eyes.

Kenji felt a jolt of surprise listening to his father. He didn’t let his guard down fully, but hearing his father’s self-awareness stirred something in him. Maybe it was the unexpected acknowledgment of his shortcomings as a parent.

Hayao continued, “Looking back, I realised I've made a lot of mistakes. I’ve been more of a boss than a father,”

Kenji felt the weight of his dads words, his remorse clear in his voice. But Kenji knew that years of tension and resentment couldn’t be fixed with just a few words of apology.

“I…don’t expect forgiveness, of course. I know I can’t turn back time, but I wanted to apologise to both of you.”

Kenji struggled to find the right words until he felt the reassuring grip of your hand, your thumb gently stroking over his knuckles. The small gesture helped calm some of the tension.

Finally, he spoke, his voice slightly strained, “I…I appreciate the apology, Dad. It’s a start.”

The rest of the conversation revolves around the future and the baby, with the interaction feeling more natural. The tension between Kenji and Hayao had eased somewhat.

At one point, Hayao asked about how Kenji planned to juggle his career, fatherhood and his Ultraman duties. Kenji explained that you’d both discussed this early in your marriage and were ready to handle the challenges.

But the conversation was cut short when you let out a sudden hiss from pain. Immediately, Kenji’s full attention was on you on high alert.

“Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his concern. When you didn’t respond right away, his worry deepened.

“Is it the baby kicking?” he asked.

You nodded, struggling to speak through the discomfort.

Kenji placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice soft but steady. “Easy, take a deep breath. The kicks might feel uncomfortable, but it’s a good sign the baby’s healthy.”

“Ah…Ken…ji…” you stuttered, the pain evident in your voice. His brows furrowed with worry, and instinctively rubbed circles over your belly.

“I’m here,” he reassured you. “Do you need anything? Water? Some more pillows?”

He almost forgot about his dad’s presence until he quickly stood from his seat and approached you. His expression was serious, his eyes flickering back to you and you bump.

“I’m going to get you a warm compress. It might help ease some of the discomfort,” Hayao said quickly, his voice still firm.

“Yeah…ah, okay.” You managed.

Hayao nodded and left the room to fetch the warm compress. Kenji stayed beside you, his hand squeezing yours gently. “Just hang in there okay? You’re doing great. We’re almost through the third trimester and it’ll all be worth it.”

“Kenji…”

His heart skipped a beat. “Is the pain getting worse?”

“I feel something wet,”

Kenji froze. You couldn’t possibly mean…? No. He had to ask if he heard that correctly.

“Wet? Are you sweating or…?” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air. He didn’t want to think about your water breaking now, especially when you still had several weeks until your due date.

“Where’s Hayao?”

Kenji’s stress only deepened further when you didn’t answer his question. “Dad’s still getting the compress…are you sure you’re feeling something wet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…don’t panic. We’ll figure this out. Do you feel any cramps or contractions?”

You shook your head. But there was still the matter of the wet sensation.

Kenji glanced towards the door, where his dad had disappeared. Whether he liked it or not, he really needed his dad right now— someone with experience, even if their relationship were strained.

He gazed back at you, his hands on your bump. “I think I peed…” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.

Kenji blinked in surprise, then his lips twitched up into a smile. The stress that had been coiled right within him unraveled almost instantly. Relief washed over him, and he felt a sudden urge to laugh at the situation.

It was such a normal, human moment— a reminder that despite the chaos, you were both still two people trying to navigate through this together.

“Oh, thank God. For a second I thought…” He shook his head, still smiling. “It’s okay, don’t worry. It happens sometimes during pregnancy, especially at this stage. Dad will be back with the compress for the kicks, alright? Just hang in there.”

“I feel gross,” you muttered, voice laced with frustration.

Kenji quickly shook his head immediately, his tone gentle and reassuring. “No, don’t say that. These things happen, it’s completely normal. You’re doing an amazing job.”

Just as he finished speaking, Hayao returned swiftly, the warm compress in his hand. “I’m back. What’s happening?”

Kenji’s gaze met his father’s, his expression stayed neutral, “She felt something wet, but she just accidentally peed herself a bit from the baby’s kicking,” Kenji explained. “She’s not experiencing any contractions, though.”

Too embarrassed to look up, you kept your head low, hiding your face behind your hands.

Hayao chuckled softly, his expression warm with understanding. “It’s okay, dear. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Hayao stepped forward with the compress and settled beside you. He placed the compress over your bump, the warmth seeping through the fabric. “This should help alleviate the kicking, at least a little.”

Kenji watched as your face softened, the tension in your body visibly uncoiling. He smiled tenderly, “See? The compress is working, huh?” You’ll feel better in no time,”

“My clothes are soiled…” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry about that,” Hayao reassured you.“We’ll get you cleaned up once everything’s under control, okay? For now, just focus on resting and letting the compress its job,”

Kenji nodded in agreement, “Once the kicking settles down, we’ll get you cleaned up. A nice shower and a change of fresh, dry clothes will make you feel a lot better,”

Kenji’s mind drifted back to everything that had transpired in the past few minutes— from the moment you both stepped inside the house to now.

He couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy that crept in him as he observed his father handling the situation so seamlessly. Despite his fathers help being a relief, it also stirred some doubt within him: Was he doing enough for you?

The man who has always been distant was now stepping in. Was his father silently judging him?

The mixed emotions were overwhelming. On one hand, Kenji was grateful— he wasn’t alone when caring for you. On the other, it was unsettling to have his father step into the role Kenji had felt it was his to bear.

Could this be a change in their relationship, or was this just a temporary reprieve from the years of coldness?

There was no point in overthinking, Kenji thought to himself. Forcing things to change between them could do more harm than good. For now, it was best to let things evolve on its own.

Once the kicking had subsided and you were feeling more comfortable, Kenji carefully helped you to the bathroom. He waited as you emptied your bladder, then gently guided you into the shower.

After you were dressed in fresh clothes, Kenji led you to the bedroom. He helped you onto the bed, making sure you were settled in the right position for comfort. Your eyelids grew heavy as you slowly fell asleep.

“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he whispered before planting a kiss on your forehead. He quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.

Outside he found his father waiting. The mere sight of him standing there brought back the knot of emotions Kenji had only just managed to unravel.

Kenji’s searched in his father’s expression for any hint of where things stood between them now. After a few heartbeats, Kenji opened his mouth to speak, his voice subdued.

“She’s asleep,” Kenji simply stated.

Hayao nodded, “That’s good, let her rest. She needs it after what happened tonight,”

Kenji exhaled, a heavy breath escaped him, “Yeah…I can’t help but worry for her. What if something serious had happened?”

Hayao’s tone was gentle as he replied, “I understand your worry. But she’s a strong one, and the baby is healthy. Trust in that, Kenji. She needs your support more than ever right now,”

Kenji knew his father was right, but his protective instincts that came with being both a husband and soon-to-be father made it difficult to fully ease his mind.

“You’re right, she is strong. I just…I just wish there was more I could do for her,” He glanced back at the door, thinking of you asleep inside. “I feel helpless sometimes, watching her go through all of this.”

Hayao placed his hand on Kenji’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. For once, Kenji didn’t feel the usual urge to flinch. Instead he welcomed the touch, finding an unexpected comfort in his father’s gestures.

“Believe me, I know how you feel. Watching the mother of your child go through pregnancy can be excruciating. But your support and your presence is the most important thing you can’t offer.”

This was something Kenji had never spoken about with anyone, not even with you. He kept his fear and doubts to himself, not wanting to burden you when you were focusing on nurturing the baby.

But now, standing with his father, he found himself opening up in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

But how ironic it was that he was comfortable enough to confide with his father— the same man that had once been a distant figure. But perhaps working together to ease your discomfort was what made things easier.

His father had been through this before, and likely, he had been just as uncertain and vulnerable. The realisation brought a surge of confidence in Kenji.

“I’ll be there for her,” Kenji said, more to himself than his father. “No matter what.”

A few hours later, Kenji got himself ready for bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been long and filled with unexpected turns, but finally, he could see the end of it. As he slid under the covers, he noticed you stirred, your eyes fluttering open.

Kenji smiled softly. “Hey, sleepyhead. You’re awake,” he murmured softly, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

You slowly sat up, rubbing some of the sleep from your eyes. “Groggy…” you muttered, your voice still thick with sleep.

Kenji chuckled softly. “Groggy, huh? Well you did sleep for a while. Take your time.” He leaned closer, his concern slipping back into his voice. “How’s the baby? Any more kicking?”

You shook your head slightly, stretching your arms above you with your belly arching as your body moved. “Not at the moment,” you said with a small sigh. “Has your dad left?”

“Yeah, he mentioned he had some important calls to make back home,” Kenji hesitated for a moment, “Why? Are you feeling okay? Do you need something from him?”

“No,” you replied. “I just wanted to know how are things with him now,”

Kenji sighed, ranking a hand through his hair. “Things between me and dad have been, well, better than before. We’re still working through some stuff, but tonight…was different.”

“You both make a good team, you know. The way you were both quick to attend to my aches,” you said softly.

Kenji smiled, feeling a swell of emotions at your words— mostly pride mingled with relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Who knew a baby would bring us both together,” he rested his hands over your belly.

At that moment it dawned on him just how much the baby had done to bridge the gap between him and his father. This tiny unborn child had given them both a common purpose and a reason to put aside their differences and focused on what truly mattered.

You leaned against the pillows. “Come here,” you said, pulling him closer.

Kenji slipped further into the covers, his arms wrapped around you protectively. He pressed a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in your comforting scent.

As you drifted back to sleep, Kenji held you close and ran his hand over your belly, his heart full.

He knew the road wasn’t going to be easy, but at that moment, he felt ready. If he could build a better relationship with his father, he felt like he could conquer anything, as long as you were by his side.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @gyusimp @aise-30 @popmagical @jellybonbons @coinduck

@rosaliin-blog @stfuchaase @blooscool @despacito-uwu16

Phew finally

Ayrus xoxo

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (addendum)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: honeymoon

- Next part: rook's rest

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

The gates of King’s Landing swung open with a grand flourish as you and Aegon returned from your whirlwind tour of the realm, greeted by the thunderous cheers of the gathered crowds. Banners fluttered in the breeze, the sigils of both Targaryen dragons and Lannister lions emblazoned proudly on the fabric, while the people shouted their king’s name.

Aegon, ever the showman, soaked it all in with a wide grin, waving dramatically to the people as though he had just conquered the Seven Kingdoms single-handedly. You, perched beside him on horseback, had to stifle a laugh. For all the pomp and spectacle of this homecoming, you could tell Aegon was already itching to extend the party.

As you rode through the streets, the capital bursting with energy, Aegon leaned toward you, his grin widening. “Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with excitement, “I’ve decided. We’re not done celebrating yet. We’ve shown the rest of the realm how to have a proper feast—now it’s time for King’s Landing to see what real revelry looks like.”

You raised an eyebrow, though you could already sense where this was heading. “Aegon,” you said, half-amused, half-cautious, “we’ve been feasting for weeks. Surely the court could use a break.”

Aegon shook his head, waving off the notion as if it were absurd. “Nonsense! The people deserve a celebration fit for a king—and queen,” he added with a wink. “We’ll carry on the festivities for the rest of the moon! Feasts, tourneys, music in every corner of the city! They’ll be talking about it for years.”

Before you could respond, the gates to the Red Keep came into view, and the sight of the familiar walls made your stomach flip slightly. You could already imagine the look on Alicent’s face when Aegon announced his grand plans.

Sure enough, not long after you dismounted and entered the throne room, there stood Queen Alicent, her face set in a stern frown as she waited for the two of you. Otto Hightower stood beside her, his expression unreadable but his fingers steepled in that calculating way of his. And just beyond them, Aemond loomed in his usual silent, brooding manner, his single eye watching everything with an intensity that never seemed to fade.

As you and Aegon approached, Alicent wasted no time. “Aegon,” she began, her voice tight, “I trust your tour went well, but it’s time to return to the business of ruling. The capital cannot afford to indulge in more distractions.”

Aegon, still riding high on the enthusiasm of the crowds, waved a hand dismissively, his smile unfazed by her scolding tone. “Oh, Mother, lighten up! The people love a good celebration, and we’ve been giving them the best across the realm. It’s only fair that King’s Landing gets to enjoy the same.”

Alicent’s frown deepened, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Aegon, the treasury is not bottomless. Another month of feasting and revelry will stretch our resources thin. We must be responsible.”

Aegon scoffed, leaning back against the nearest pillar as though the very idea of restraint was foreign to him. “Responsible? What’s more responsible than keeping the people happy, hmm? A happy people don’t rebel, Mother. Besides, we’ve got plenty left in the coffers.”

Alicent opened her mouth to argue further, but before she could get a word in, Otto Hightower cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes flicked between you and Aegon, and to your surprise, his lips curled into a small smile.

“Aegon is right,” Otto said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “The celebrations have been well-received across the realm. They have strengthened alliances and fostered goodwill. Extending the festivities here in the capital would solidify that image. A generous king is often a beloved one.”

Alicent shot her father a sharp look, her displeasure obvious. “Father, the court—”

Otto raised a hand, silencing her. “The court will adjust. We can manage the expenses for another moon. This is a time of transition, and maintaining the support of the realm is paramount.”

You glanced at Aegon, whose grin had only grown wider now that his grandfather had weighed in on his side. He turned to you, his expression triumphant. “See, Y/N? Even Otto agrees with me. The feasting continues!”

Alicent’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly torn between her frustration and her inability to counter Otto’s logic. You could practically see the internal battle playing out behind her eyes. Finally, she let out a sigh, though it was filled with exasperation.

“Very well,” she said, her voice tight. “But keep it within reason, Aegon. The court cannot afford your excesses forever.”

Aegon beamed, clearly taking that as an outright victory. “Of course, Mother. Reasonable revelry. I can do that.”

You bit back a laugh, knowing full well that “reasonable” and “Aegon” rarely went together, especially when wine and celebrations were involved.

As the conversation moved on to other matters of state, Aemond approached, his usual brooding expression firmly in place. He stood beside you, his presence silent but somehow more intense than anyone else in the room.

“You’ve returned, I see,” Aemond said, his voice low as he glanced at you, the edge of his mouth quirking ever so slightly. “I trust Aegon kept you… entertained.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you smirk. “Entertained? That’s one way to put it,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “It was certainly more… lively than I expected.”

Aemond huffed a quiet laugh, though his gaze remained fixed on the gathering. “I can imagine. My brother never does things by halves.”

You smiled, glancing sideways at him. “And you, Aemond? I imagine you would have preferred a more… subdued tour?”

Aemond’s eye flicked toward you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. “Perhaps. But sometimes it’s necessary to indulge in… excess. When the occasion calls for it.”

There was a brief pause, a moment where the weight of your words—his words—hung between you, unspoken but present. Aemond’s eye lingered on yours for just a beat longer than was necessary before he turned his gaze back to the court.

Meanwhile, Aegon, now fully engrossed in discussing the details of his extended celebration with Otto, called out over his shoulder, “Come, Y/N! We’ve got a feast to plan. Tourneys, music, and of course, more wine! We’ll make this a month to remember.”

You gave Aemond one last, lingering glance before moving to join Aegon, the smirk still playing on your lips. King’s Landing was in for quite the spectacle—though you had a feeling the real entertainment had only just begun.

The festivities in King’s Landing were in full swing. The courtyard of the Red Keep was alive with music, the clatter of goblets, and the sound of laughter. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air as courtiers danced, drank, and mingled under the golden glow of torches.

Aegon was, unsurprisingly, at the center of it all. His goblet of wine was never empty, and his laughter echoed through the courtyard as he moved from one group of guests to another, basking in the glory of his extended celebration. You stood by his side, entertaining the courtiers with your charm and grace, though your attention occasionally drifted to the antics unfolding around you.

Aemond, as was his habit, stood on the sidelines, his brooding presence a stark contrast to the revelry around him. He watched the festivities with a quiet intensity, his single eye scanning the crowd, though every so often, his gaze seemed to linger in your direction just a bit longer than usual.

It didn’t take long for Aegon to notice.

He was halfway through another story—one you had heard more times than you could count—when he suddenly paused, his grin faltering for a moment as he caught Aemond looking your way. His brow furrowed slightly, and he turned his head to squint at his brother, his expression somewhere between confusion and suspicion.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what had caused Aegon’s sudden silence, but before you could ask, he leaned closer to you, his voice low but loud enough to catch the attention of anyone nearby.

“Is it just me,” Aegon slurred, his tone a mix of amusement and indignation, “or has my dear brother been stealing glances at my beloved wife all night?”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden accusation, and glanced over at Aemond, who stiffened slightly, his posture going even more rigid than usual. His eye narrowed, and for a moment, it looked as though he was about to brush off the accusation with his typical icy calm. But instead, he responded, his voice more defensive than even he likely intended.

“I was not stealing glances, Aegon,” Aemond said, his tone clipped, though the way his eye darted between you and Aegon betrayed a hint of unease. “I was merely… observing.”

Aegon, clearly emboldened by the wine, let out a loud, exaggerated gasp and clutched his chest dramatically. “Observing? Oh, dear brother, that sounds an awful lot like admiring to me!” He leaned closer to you, his arm snaking around your waist as he grinned wickedly. “I knew it! You’ve been eyeing my beautiful queen this whole time!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though you tried to stifle it, glancing over at Aemond, who now looked as though he wanted to throttle Aegon or possibly sink into the nearest shadow and disappear. His jaw clenched tightly, and he met Aegon’s gaze with a steely glare.

“Aegon,” Aemond said through gritted teeth, “I have no interest in your drunken fantasies. You’re imagining things.”

But Aegon, now fully enjoying the moment, wasn’t about to let it go. He grinned even wider, clearly thriving off of Aemond’s discomfort. “Oh, I don’t think so! I see the way you look at her—like a cat eyeing a piece of cream. You’ve always had that brooding look, but this…” He gestured between the two of you with his goblet, sloshing a bit of wine onto the floor. “This is something else entirely.”

You glanced between the two brothers, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Aegon was clearly playing it up, but the way Aemond’s usual cool facade had cracked just a bit was… well, more amusing than you cared to admit.

Aemond straightened, his expression darkening as he stared down at Aegon, who was now swaying slightly but still grinning like a mischievous child. “You’re drunk,” Aemond said flatly. “As usual.”

“And yet!” Aegon hiccupped, pointing a finger dramatically in Aemond’s direction. “Even in my drunken stupor, I can see it clear as day! My own brother, pining for my wife! Oh, the betrayal! The scandal!”

You finally let out a laugh, shaking your head as you placed a hand on Aegon’s arm, trying to calm him down. “Aegon, you’re being ridiculous. Aemond isn’t pining for anyone.”

Aemond shot you a brief, grateful glance, though his jaw was still set tight. “Precisely. I have better things to concern myself with.”

But Aegon, in full performance mode now, wasn’t about to let the matter drop. He turned to the crowd of courtiers, raising his goblet high as though addressing the entire realm. “Ladies and gentlemen! My own brother, the fearsome Aemond Targaryen, reduced to a lovesick puppy!” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening even more. “Do you think he’s jealous of my charm? My wit? My—”

“Your lack of self-control, perhaps,” Aemond cut in, his voice sharp, though his eye gleamed with a hint of amusement now. It seemed that even he couldn’t entirely resist the absurdity of the situation.

Aegon waved him off, laughing. “Oh, come now, brother! Admit it! You’ve been watching her all night, haven’t you?”

Aemond’s eye flickered toward you again, just for a brief moment, and then back to Aegon. His lips pressed into a thin line, but finally, he let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit.

“I was observing,” he repeated firmly, his voice calmer now. “Not pining.”

Aegon threw his arm around you, pulling you close and grinning like he had just won a great victory. “Ah, well, as long as it’s only observing, I suppose I can forgive you. After all, I’d be staring too if I weren’t already married to the most beautiful woman in the realm.”

You rolled your eyes, patting Aegon’s chest as you tried to gently pull away from his overly enthusiastic embrace. “That’s quite enough, Aegon. Let’s not make a spectacle out of your brother.”

But Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity for a little more drama, held up his goblet in a mock toast. “To my brother, Aemond, the most observant man in the realm! May he continue his not pining for many more years to come!”

Aemond huffed, though a ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he raised his own goblet in a grudging toast. “To Aegon,” he said dryly, “and his complete lack of sense.”

The courtiers, sensing the tension ease, burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join them, shaking your head as Aegon leaned in to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

As the night continued, the tension between the brothers faded into the background, but you couldn’t help but notice that Aemond’s gaze lingered on you just a little longer than before. Whether it was “observing” or something more, well, that was a matter for another night.

[midnight-mourning]

Night Ride

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 23❄️❄️

Another fun one! decided to have a little bit of a twist with the storyline, mainly to add a bit of extra fluff and the likes, hope you all enjoy!

Prompt: Polar express au! Perhaps yn as the conductor and sun/moon as the engineers? Or perhaps eclipse and yn are both conductors. My favorite segments are them getting over the frozen lake and the roller coaster ride right after while the main characters are stuck at the front!

Word Count: 1819

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"What do you mean we're out of marshmallows? How does a magic train to the north pole run out of marshmallows?" You say, exasperated, then shake your head. "I've got twenty kids in that car alone that are going to want marshmallows with their hot chocolate. I don't care if you have to get in contact with Mrs. C herself, you get marshmallows, got it?"

The sous chef nods, hurrying off as you sigh. This trip has been such a disaster already. One kid almost missed the train, someone was missing their ticket, and now no marshmallows! Thank goodness you only did one of these a year, you don't think your stress levels could take anything more. 

A pair of hands rest on your shoulders, massaging. "Breathe, love. They'll figure it out, we always do, right?" 

"I know, 'clip. I know." You lean into his touch with a sigh. "This year's just been a bit of a mess and it's getting to me."

Eclipse bends down to your line of sight, chuckling. "Be honest, when is it not?"

"True. That's... true."

He kisses your cheek, releasing you again after a moment. "I'll see what I can do about our marshmallow situation. Can you handle our missing ticket problem?"

"Yes. And thank you." You reach out for his hand as he turns to leave, giving it a squeeze. "I appreciate it."

He nods, lifts your hand for a kiss, then heads off to one of the other cars. You sigh, shake your head, and get back to work. After a bit of discussion with the kids, you're thankfully able to resolve the matter. Eclipse—somehow—manages to find marshmallows, thus averting utter disaster. 

You think the trouble is over, but when the train comes to a halt, you feel dread overtake you once more. Not wasting any time, you make your way to the front, bursting into the cab only to find—

"I, Helpy, what are you doing in here? Where's Sun and Moon?"

The small bot is standing on a stool, one of the boy's hats on his head. He waves to you, then points outside.

You peek out the window, and spy sun's rays around the front area of the train. Looking further you see—"Caribou?! We don't have time for this." You duck back inside, nodding to the small bear bot. "Guess it was wise they put you in charge after all."

He salutes you and you hurry out to the front of the train. 

When you get there you see the two bots bickering back and forth. You hop up onto the platform, and quickly move between the two. 

"What exactly do you two think you're doing?" 

Sun ducks his head. "Changing the light... Or at least we would be if someone wasn't being so difficult!" He turns back to Moon. 

The other bot chuckles, arms crossed. "You were doing it wrong~"

They start to argue again and you push them away from each other further. 

"Listen, I do not care if you did it right or wrong or whatever, we have bigger problems here." You nod to the massive heard of caribou. "That, needs fixed or we're going to be more than just a little late. So get to it."

You usher the two of them off the platform, grumbling as they go and start shooing them away, with little success. 

You check the time again. Still five minutes to midnight. You click the watch shut and shove it back in your pocket. 

"You never cease to amaze me with your patience, Starlight."

You glance up, seeing Eclipse peering down at you from the top of the train. "Tell me about it. This'll take hours to clear out, we don't have time for that."

He hops down to stand beside you as you turn back to where Sun and Moon try in vain to get the caribou to retreat. Going so far as trying to shove them this way or that, with no success. 

"Ah, you forget, my sweet, what train we're on." He whistles to the other two, waving them to come back. "Return to the cab, Helpy can't do all your work for you."

Shoving each other back and forth, they trudge back to cab. Not before shooting a glare to Eclipse and wink and kiss respectively to you, however. 

You turn back to the herd. "What do you think we'll be able to do?"

"They know." Eclipse's arms wrap around you. "Believe it or not but when they put their heads together they can be quite clever."

Sure enough, the train's whistle suddenly blows, startingly you and the caribou. After a few quick blows, they finally clear the tracks, and you're moving again. 

You relax into Eclipse's hold. "Right. Should have thought of that."

"You're stressed, and you certainly can't be expected to think of everything." He presses a kiss to your hair, then moves down to your neck. 

You laugh, hands coming up to grip his arms. "Clip, we're working. Save it for later."

His grips tightens, and does not stop. Figures. 

"You know, speaking of clever, if this was all a ploy to get me alone, I'm not going to be happy with you." 

He tsks against your skin. "No, never. You know our control doesn't go beyond the train."

"Uh huh,"—you say, then notice that the winds picked up significantly—"Hey, don't you think we're going a little fast?"

Eclipse pauses his assault on your neck, looking up and out to the path in front of you. "It would appear so. Too fast for what's up ahead."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." You remove yourself from his hold, going over to the side of the train to yell back. "Boys! Slow it down. Glacier Gulch is up ahead, remember?"

Nothing but the wind as a response. 

You curse under your breath as you continue to pick up speed, going back to the front railing. "Not good. This is not good."

"The train and everyone inside will be perfectly fine, love. It's you that I'm worried about." Eclipse comes up behind you again, hands encircling your own as they cling to the railing, holding you securely against it. "I think we're in for a ride."

You see the hill prior to the gulch rapidly approaching, your stomach already dropping in fear.

You press your back into his chest, hands shifting to be able to grip his in some regard. "I'm worried about you two, you big dummy. Sorry in advance for the screaming I'm about to do."

"No need for apologies. I don't think you're going to be the only one."

You make it to the top of the hill, and only have a second before you plummet to the bottom. You both scream, clinging to each other and the railing for dear life as you ride up and down, and up and down through the mountainous terrain. Your heart lurches into your throat several times over, and if you weren't facing every the track head on you think this might be fun. 

Forcing yourself to glance up after a moment, your eyes widen as you see there's ice over the tracks up ahead. 

The train bursts out onto the ice, tilting this way and that as you twist around and hug Clip as tight as you can, burying your head against his chest. He returns the gesture ten-fold. 

After seconds that feel like hours, the train comes to a halt. Before you can even think to react, Eclipse has let you go, on the move as he storms back to the engine's cab. From here you can hear him chastising his siblings for the situation, and you sigh for the umpteenth time that night. 

You climb the steps and head back as well, coming to stand by the other conductor on the top of the train. 

"Do you have any idea the danger you put them in—" You put a hand on his arm and he stops immediately, voice softening. "Oh, hello, love."

You smile and don't miss the scoffs and muttering you hear from below. You squat down and address the two yourself. "I'm sure you two were trying your best back here. Thank you for getting it under control again."

Eclipse huffs as Sun's rays spin and Moon tugs his hat down to avoid your gaze. A cracking sound to your left however interrupts you. 

Across the lake, rapidly getting closer are massive cracks in the ice, with waves of water following right behind. You step into action. 

"Compliments later. Get us the hell out of here right now!"

The two below spring into action, getting the train moving again as you wobbly get to your feet. Eclipse reaches out to balance you, helping you turn around to face the other side of the lake. 

"Tracks ahead! Follow my signal." You look up to Eclipse, shifting so that he's behind you. "Keep me balanced and an eye on that back there for me."

"Always, sweet."

Zeroed in on the tracks across from you, you call out commands to Sun and Moon. 

"Left! Right! Left! Give it more steam!"

You hear the cracking noise growing louder and louder but keep your attention forward. 

"Right! Left! Left! Come on! More power!"

You feel the train drop behind you and assume the worst, just a little further—

The wheels hiss and screech as they make contact with the tracks again, lurching forward suddenly as you climb the hill. Before you can fall, Eclipse catches you, holding you close as you regain balance, and your sanity. 

You all but melt into his arms, stress leaving your body and leaving nothing left but a puddle of a person. 

"I think... I need a nap..." You collapse into his arms, drained. 

Several minutes later, after regaining your composure, you're sentenced to the stool in the corner of the engine's cab. There's hot chocolate—with marshmallows—in your hands and a blanket around your shoulders as you decompress. 

You think if they didn't have to drive the train, the engineers would be taking turns holding you, so instead they stick to walking by to for a kiss every now and then. Something you're sure is going to upset a certain conductor. But, it was arguably his fault you'd needed this break in the first place, so he'd just have to suffer until after your trip was done and over. 

You take a sip of your drink and lean your head against the cool glass of the window, staring out into the night sky with its lovely hues. A sign you were nearing the North Pole by the minute.

It was a good thing you only did this one night a year, but that didn't mean you didn't enjoy it any less. Not when you had moments like these to remember it by.

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Thank you for the super fun request @rosescarletful!! Enjoyed rewatching the clips of the movie for context, forgot how much fun it is lol, hope you enjoyed the moments with the boys, thought i'd be cheeky and include all three ^-^

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

[cloud-acee]

[ breakfast bunch ]

office crush to lovers. wotakoi inspired. wc: 2757

the city was bustling with busy as per a usual weekday. heels clacked and leather shoes hurried on the sidewalks, navigating their way to work. that wasn’t the case for you. today was a day off work because of some event in another department that did not concern yours and sunwoo’s, allowing a day of rest.

it was past 9 am and you have just woken up feeling quite a bit mislaid, not knowing what to do. usually around this time you’d be in front of your computer, typing away your work reports while taking bites out of the breakfast sandwich sunwoo always got you.

not having the energy to figure out what to spend today for, you mindlessly scrolled through tiktok curled up in your bed until a message dinged your phone.

nunu: morning

nunu: u up?

two messages sent after the other popped into your screen and you immediately clicked on it, not quite eager, but excited to know whatever sunwoo has planned for the day just so you could join in. hence, you responded and exchanged messages after so.

y/n: yea why

nunu: bfast?

y/n: let usssss

y/n: but where?

nunu: hb that sandwich place where i buy our usual?

y/n: oooh bet i’ve always wanted to try dining there

nunu: aightt, you know my place just message me when ure near so i can wait by the bus stop

y/n: got it 🤝

y/n: i’ll get ready now bye bye

nunu: you be careful, see u !!

acknowledging his last message with a heart reaction, you locked and threw your phone to the bed as you stood up to get ready, your face planted with an unconscious smile. you didn’t really know if you were happy with the idea that you won’t be couch potatoing for the day, or because you get to see sunwoo.

he’s part of your everyday now, not only on work days but even on weekends where you usually meet out to eat and hang, having been alone in each of your apartments. the friendly company of each other brought you both comfort. at work you got to play adults, but outside work you both get to act like teenagers with your endless playful bickering, midnight ice cream runs, and tv marathons whether it's an anime or movies or series. you loved being with sunwoo.

not further delaying your movements, you hopped into the shower preparing for whatever is to come today.

sunwoo, on the other hand, was all dressed already. he opted to message you after he's ready to go out just to avoid the possibility of you arriving in the meeting place earlier than him, not that it was a chance at all, but he wanted to make sure anyway just so he knows you wouldn't be waiting all alone. he meant to ask you to breakfast last night but argued within himself, not wanting to appear too clingy. sunwoo has always been careful about how you might see him. he wanted to be around you, but not always, not too pushy to scare you away. he didn't want to be too obvious, especially not when he's had some feelings he himself is yet to confront.

he saw you as a colleague at first, he respected you as a workmate. sunwoo saw your brilliance and wit, and he found you admirable. he didn't even notice when he started to feel.. things, he thought for sometime he just saw the good things in you, not realizing it's past mere compliments about you that he kept himself. the man was falling, oh he fell quicker than he could keep track of his feelings.

but he would never admit them. not even to himself, perhaps to sunwoo, acknowleding the heart is followed by rejection. and he enjoyed being with you too much to waste the bond, so he settles with your friendship. not that he was complaining, if anything, he was grateful to even be close to you, and much happier that you two were the closest among your workmates. sunwoo was contented but he'd be lying if he says he wouldn't want anything more.

the walk down the bus stop didn't take long enough for the thoughts that preoccupied his head. anyway, sunwoo already got to the meeting place just before you messaged to tell him you were around 5 minutes away.

basking in the morning air, sunwoo was glad the traffic had died down, allowing him to enjoy watching the vehicles that drove by. each one of them dropping and picking up new passengers, until it was you coming out of the bus.

sunwoo stood up with a small smile as soon as he saw you and you shoot him a smile back as you observed his clothing, he was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, just as you expected.

"do you even wash that hoodie? didn't you wear that last week?" you asked teasingly as soon as you were in front of him. the small smile on his face that welcomed you fell into a playful annoyed face, “at least i wash my hair everyday.”

he likes teasing like this, “hey, you’re not supposed to wash your hair everyday because it’s going to keep the natural oil and stuff,” you huffed as you followed him walking. “so you’re supposed to stink?” he joked even more.

“no i do not stink!” you said loudly laughing in between. “you have got to stop believing everything you see on tiktok,” sunwoo exclaimed laughing along with you.

the teasing and the tiktok banter kept going until you were a crossroad away from the small sandwich shop marked with a logo familiar to you.

as soon as you entered the sandwich shop, you heard the old lady stood behind the counter chirp a greeting to the man who held the door before you, “oh sunwoo, good morning!”

sunwoo kept his hand on the door as you took your steps but his eyes immediately went to the old lady, greeting back to her with another “good morning” paired with a gentle smile.

she had went back to cutting the ingredients as you walked towards the counter with sunwoo, checking on the menu. you observed the store and it felt like a subway but homey, maybe because of the seats and tables that are not too fancy but neat and pretty in color. seeing the freshly cut vegetables reminded you of your hunger and the smell of the sizzling meat didn’t help either. you continued scanning the menu when a conversation between the two started.

“are you getting your usual?” asked the lady as she looked at sunwoo. “yes but i’ll be dining here this time, you don’t need to rush preparing it,” sunwoo answered in a chuckle. apparently, sunwoo’s habit was no different to yours, always rushing in the morning.

the lady took note of sunwoo’s additional coffee order before turning her head towards you, “how about your order, dear?” she was sweet. you felt no pressure choosing a sandwich for breakfast but you didn’t feel adventurous today so you went with the order sunwoo always brought you.

“i’ll just have the regular sandwich with mayo, onions, and cheese, but without the pickles and tomato please,” you answered politely as you pulled your wallet out of your bag to prepare payment. just before you looked back up at the lady, you added, “i’ll also have the same coffee sunwoo’s having.”

this time you looked at her and she had this quizzed look on her face, as if solving a math equation stamped on your face. you only looked at her with both your eyebrows raised, mirroring the same look of confusion as you wait for a response.

“oh it’s her!” she exclaimed with her face lit up. you couldn’t understand what she meant but sunwoo seemed to get it when his eyes squinted then grew bigger as soon as the thought registered. “you’re sunwoo’s girlfriend aren’t you!? the one he always buys this breakfast sandwich for!” the lady said excitedly, wrinkling the corners of her eyes.

sunwoo looked as speechless as you did, perhaps you were as red as each other too.

the lady smiled so big you didn’t have it in you to burst her bubble, so you just pulled your lips in a warm smile as you bobbed your head slightly. “he always did get me my breakfast sandwich,” you responded as an agreement to the sandwich part, glossing over the girlfriend bit.

“what a sweetheart you have here, kindness in love goes a long way!” she said with the same level of excitement as she turned to sunwoo and talking once more, “and you have got a girl so pretty! how did a clumsy sunwoo score such a lady!?”

sunwoo only laughed in embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head. the mood was lighter and you laughed with him too. he didn’t look at you but he played along ignoring the statement that made him blush, instead clearing his throat before speaking to you, “you can take a sit now i’ll take care of it.”

not wanting to protest, you only nodded your head and smiled once more at the lady before pulling yourself out of the counter. you chose a table just next to the window and settled your bag on it, with sunwoo following not so long after.

he slipped into the chair opposite to yours quietly but spoke eventually, “i’m sorry about that,” he chuckled awkwardly. “i knew her since i moved here for work and she suspected the extra sandwich i was buying with my usual order was for a girl,” sunwoo laughed at the memory.

rushing through the streets, sunwoo held his leather bag in his left hand before he got to the front of the sandwich shop near the corner of his apartment, pushing the door with his right hand. the old lady recognized him, he’s been a regular since around three months ago— right when he moved to the area.

just as sunwoo approached the counter, the lady beat her to it and asked, “your usual in 5 minutes?”

he laughed lightly answering, “yes, please. but with the regular sandwich too minus the pickles and tomato.” he says as he pulls some cash out of his wallet. this was when the lady noticed it, of the three months sunwoo’s been a regular, the last three weeks of his order included an extra sandwich on some days.

she couldn’t stop her tongue when she asked, “so your girlfriend doesn’t like pickles and tomatoes?” sunwoo was quite shocked, but he liked what he heard.

you were both new to the company but you came a bit later, resulting in the two of you working on some stuff together and sticking together during lunch breaks, having not much friends from the older employees. sunwoo found you so easy to be with. and quite frankly, you could say the same. you talked about a lot of things, especially anime. but besides your similar interests, sunwoo also learned about the absence of breakfast in your daily routine having such a shit sleep schedule that you wake up late and miss the time to prepare or buy anything to eat most days, if not every single day.

so one morning when he was getting his sandwich, he decides to buy two to give you the other one. he ‘accidentally’ ordered two so you got to eat it now because one was enough for him and it would’ve gotten stale if he keeps it for lunch. you do anyway, but you fish out the pickles and tomatoes before doing so. sunwoo mentally took note of the abandoned bits of vegetables and ordered one without them the following day.

you didn’t really think much of it then, just glad sunwoo was generous enough to share his food with you. sunwoo, on the other hand, was relieved. he wouldn’t really know how to explain if you ask him why he gets you breakfast.

claiming the paperbag containing the sandwiches, sunwoo thanked the old lady for always getting them done in 5 minutes. “oh don’t worry there’s not much customers anyway. you go now, you lovebirds have a nice day,” she grinned warmly.

it has become his routine since then, the lady’s too, that he had completely forgotten about the assumption she made months ago.

you intently watched sunwoo as he spoke of the memory so fondly. “i would’ve warned you about it but it slipped my mind, i didn’t really explain anything to her and just let her think of it like that, i’m so sorry,” he finished.

“no, no problem at all, it’s fine!” you answered wavering your hand in quite a panic, not wanting to make sunwoo feel bad.

you really didn’t want to sadden that lady with the information that you two, in fact, were not dating. but admittedly, being called that made your heart flutter. oh, who were you kidding? anything sunwoo did— anything related to sunwoo, made your heart flutter.

the lady was right, he was such a sweetheart. always so mindful when he was teaching you about the work stuff he learned about some months earlier than you, accompanying you to non-work events (who knew sunwoo would join you to a sticker convention), sending you tiktok edits of your favorite movies, looking after sickly you in your apartment, making sure he's got an extra hair tie in case you lose yours— the list could go on but it’s that sandwich that you look forward to most days.

upon having this surge of realization, you felt your cheeks heat up as you spoke shyly, “i mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

sunwoo only looked at you surprisingly with his eyes looking even bigger than they already do, but he also looked confused as his brows raised and furrowed quickly as if he was figuring a puzzle out. his head jumbled with words to form whatever question was meant to be asked in a situation as such, which he had never been in. did you mean what you said? did it mean you felt the same way he did?

his brain was racked with so much thoughts that before he got to ask what you meant, the old lady had already dinged the bell, calling for sunwoo’s name instead of his order number. blinking away the moment, "hold on," sunwoo said as he quickly stood from his seat quite wobbly before approaching the counter.

you would’ve laughed at his clumsiness but you had to mentally scold yourself first, what did you just say? were you even ready for this? well, you’ll never be ready to face something this big anyway, not something as big as your feelings that caught you in those moments with sunwoo you wished would last a bit— a lot, longer. they crept up the very first time sunwoo bursted out laughing at a joke you made, it was this warmth that spread across your chest that made you realize that besides seeing him happy, you also liked making him happy.

oh this isn’t good. what a waste of friendship would it be if sunwoo found your feelings ridiculous, you would much rather choke to death instead of being rejected and having your friendship ruined.

maybe you’re over reacting, but what’s a girl got to do when she accidentally confesses?

you were so into your own thoughts that you didn’t realize sunwoo was slowing his walking still trying to absrob what you said. did you mean, it wouldn’t be.. so bad.. being his? sunwoo has always been gentle with you when talking about things in a serious light, but he didn’t find this time a good time to be slow, maybe he should just go for it?

you felt like you held your breathe until sunwoo came back, carefully placing your coffee and sandwich in front of you and his meal on his side. sunwoo's sat in front of you again wiping the pair of fork and bread knife with a napkin before handing them to you. you only quietly said "thank you," as you reached for them when he spoke.

"so you liked that, huh?"

looking up with your mouth agape, you were horrified. sunwoo had a smirk and his eyes twinkled with something that tells you this day was going to be about more than a friendly breakfast date, this one was a hole you both have been digging.

[torubeth]

12:37

“tsumu, there are other things we could be doing instead of wasting money on this shitty thing. it never works and you know it!” you pulled at his arm which was busy with the joy stick and push button.

“and baby it’s rigged, we’ll just end up wasting our tickets! let’s find something else” you tried to reason with him.

“nuh-uh, ya wanted that plushie and i’m gettin it for ya, end of story!” he put a full stop to this convo and you knew further reasoning with him would be futile.

“i don’t want that plushie anymore okay ?” you smiled “c’mon tsumu, people are staring at us” you said, gesturing to the small crowd watching your 6ft tall boyfriend battle against the claw machine.

“ya can’t convince me babe, that damn plushie is coming home with us and it’s gonna sit among your other annoying ones on the bed!”

“oh you mean the ones you get jealous of ?”

suddenly he stops “what did ya just say ?” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at you accusingly.

“don’t act like you don’t know” you rolled your eyes “we all know how jealous you get of my plushies. you always take em out every time you’re over” you folded your arms over your chest.

“well- yeah that’s because we do some discreet things and it’s awkward. a bunch of animals just staring at us” he visibly shivered.

“oh my god! do you have to word it like that !? and no, that’s not the reason. admit it, you’re jealous” you pushed for the truth.

his eyes darted from the machine and to you. knowing that you weren’t gonna give up, he huffed out a breadth-

“alright fine! yeah, i’m jealous okay ? ya cuddle with em everyday..and hug em ta sleep too! how can i not be envious” he pouted like a child.

chuckling, you moved to wrap your hands around his waist “yeah yeah, now- can we leave ? i’m tired and i’d really love to go home and cuddle with my boyfriend” you looked at him expectantly, already knowing the answer.

“how can i say no to that ? and fuck this!” he kicked the machine. he then left the rest of the tickets still in the slot “i hope everyone has bad luck with this!” he grinned, making you sigh heavily.

locking arms together, you both headed towards the exit when-

“oh my god! look! i got it! can you believe that !?” a kid shrieked, causing both of you to turn around.

a kid was holding the same exact plushie atsumu was fighting for and used the tickets atsumu left behind. you didn’t mind it but atsumu on the other hand-

“no. nope. absolutely not. cannot let this happen” he mumbled before before he took off in the same direction you came.

“tsumu don’t fight with him!” you yelled out, not wanting to see him argue with a kid.

however, you didn’t witness your boyfriend picking a fight with kid. rather he seemed to be in a deep conversation with him, who then quickly handed him the plushie, making you scrunch up your brows.

“here ya go! yer plushie” he mimicked your tone, grinning like his usual self.

“what- how did you manage to get it ? did you pay him or something ? i swear to god tsumu-”

“no baby, ya know i’d never do that. i just, gave him a number in exchange” he smiled.

you gaped at him “you gave him your number !? what the fuck ?” were you hearing this right ?

“nah, i gave him suna’s number”

“you what ?”

“but now that i think about it, i should’ve given him osamu’s instead” he feigned sadness but shrugged.

you could only stare at him and gape.

and that’s miya atsumu for you.

[metallicaislife]

Afternoon Delight

Requested by : Anon

Genre: 18+ Smut, minors dni

Word Count: 845

Warnings: drug use, protected sex, P in V sex, m x f pairing, fingering, post sex cockwarming

“What do you want to listen to?” I asked as I looked through Cliff’s cassette collection. 

“Anything there is good.” He replied. 

“You’re no help.” I murmured. Granted he was focused on rolling us a joint to share so I shouldn’t give him too much shit. I continued to look through his music, then settled on a Peter Gabriel cassette. 

“Good choice.” He looked up as he finished prepping the joint. I sat on his bed with my back against the wall. 

Cliff sat next to me near the end of his bed. 

“Open.” He took my chin in his fingers to part my lips and placed the joint between them. 

“You rolled it, you get the first hit.” I said, trying to take it out of my mouth. He swatted my hand away and flicked the lighter. 

“I want you to take the first hit.” He said. I didn’t argue further and inhaled. I took the joint and passed it to Cliff. I exhaled and coughed a little. 

Cliff and I passed it back and forth for a while before putting it out. 

“That’s good shit.” I said, smiling at him. He chuckled and rubbed my thigh. 

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow lifted. 

“Mmm. I mean you always have the best green.” I giggle. 

“Yeah, I do.” He grinned at me. His hand stayed on my thigh as we continued chatting about everything yet nothing. That is one of the things I love about Cliff, we can talk for hours, about silly stuff, deep things, and most of all he’s the person I can sit in silence with. Just being with him makes me happy. 

It hadn’t slipped my notice that his hand occasionally moved higher, alternating between soft squeezes and rubbing little circles with his fingers. I was however caught off guard mid sentence as he maneuvered and pinned me to his bed. 

“Is this okay?” He asked as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. Any recollection of what I was in the middle of saying had vanished.

“Yeah.” I smiled up at him. He grinned back at me then leaned down to meet my lips in a tender kiss. The kiss grew more and more needy as he ground his hips into mine. I could feel his erection through his jeans. 

“I just wanna be inside you.” He mumbled against my lips. I didn’t respond verbally. I played with the hem of his shirt, he sat up and took it off then helped sit me up enough to get my shirt and bra off. He kissed my shoulder, laying me back down. He impressively shimmied himself down so he could undo my pants button and zipper. I instinctively raised my hips, he took my pants and panties in one go. After flinging them into his room he began running his fingers through my folds. He let his fingers collect enough slick before sliding them inside of me. 

“I don’t want your fingers.” I whined. 

“I know, love. I have to make sure you’re ready to take me.” He reassured me and kissed my thigh. My whine turned into a moan as he curled his fingers. Just when I was about to go over the edge he pulled them out. I whined again and he chuckled softly. He stood up removing his jeans and boxers letting his erection free. He opened the drawer to his bedside table and pulled out a condom. I watched intently as he put in on, he got back on top of me and didn’t waste any time aligning himself with my entrance. I widened my legs, he sunk in and leaned down resting his forehead on mine. I wrapped my legs around him as he found a steady pace. His lips met mine in a passionate kiss. 

Cliff intertwined our fingers with one hand, as his other found my sensitive clit. It wasn’t long before I came, the pleasure hitting me so hard I swear I could see stars. 

“Oh god. You feel so good, squeezing me so hard.” He groaned. Cliff didn’t last much longer. His hips stuttered as he came. He continued to rut into me stretching both of our highs until he came to stop fully sheathed inside me. He took a minute with his head buried in my shoulder, his body weight like a comforting weighted blanket. I rubbed his back softly. 

I squealed as he rolled us over, he was still inside of me and I was now on top. He patted his chest and I laid flushed against him. He snagged his blanket pulling it over us as we cuddled. 

“I love you.” He murmured as he tickled my back, I could hear the sleepiness in his voice. 

“I love you more.” I smiled softly, running my fingers over his chest.  

“Uh-huh.” He protested. 

“Most definitely.” I teased. 

“I’m too tired to prove otherwise right now… but just you wait.” He teased back, kissing my forehead. 

“Already looking forward to it.” I yawned and quickly fell into a peaceful slumber. 

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[starwarsmum]

Day 28: Not Invulnerable and it takes us back to BioDad Bruce ❤️

@maribat-calendar-events

Dick was having a heated conversation with Bruce on the Watchtower and Tim was watching and trying to disappear into the background. He was used to them arguing about anything and everything, even though Dick was unfailingly kind to both Tim and Marinette.

“She needs help, Bruce!” Dick shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. Tim watched in fascination as Bruce stubbornly ignored the more flamboyant man. “Just- get her to talk to Dinah, to anyone, please, get her a freaking therapist. I know you're a lost cause but M could be saved a lot of heartache if you would just make her go to therapy.”

“Fine,” Bruce ground out, glaring at the screen of the computer he was working on as though it personally offended him. “I will ask Black Canary to have a session with her. We can't risk her going to a civilian therapist just in case.”

“Great, thank you.” Dick didn't waste any time, practically fleeing before Bruce could change his mind. Tim watched Bruce mutter to himself and pull up a message to Black Canary. 

_ _ _

Marinette sat in the office nervously, picking at the skin on her fingers and chewing her lip. She glanced at the door, wondering when she could safely say that she had stayed in the room long enough to satisfy her promise to Dick to have given this a try. The blonde woman sitting in the chair opposite her was watching her but not saying anything.

“I just don't think this is going to help anything,” Marinette blurted out, flushing when the woman merely tilted her head to the side. “I'm sorry, that was rude. I just…I'm coping fine. I don't see how talking about it all again is going to magically make it better.”

“Is that what you want to happen?” Dinah asked her, tone warm but without inflection. It made Marinette hesitate and wish she had just kept her mouth shut. “Marinette, I understand being sceptical of the process of therapy. You're certainly not the first young person to think that they're coping just fine, but the reality is your family are worried about you.”

“Pfft, please, the only ‘family’ I have left is Bruce, and given that I'm pretty sure he had to be strong-armed into allowing these sessions to happen, I think it's safe to say that my family are not worried about me. And he's right, I'm doing absolutely fine, just as peachy as one could be after their entire life has been destroyed on multiple occasions.”

Marinette looked out of the window behind Dinah, the sensation of tears prickling her eyes making it hard to see. 

“Perhaps you could talk me through how your life has been destroyed,” Dinah said gently, leaning onto her knees with her elbows. The compassion in her voice was obvious, and it made Marinette want to break something. She didn't need this woman's compassion, not anymore.

“Which time?” Was what she said, her voice turning robotic. “When I convinced the boy I was living with that he should chase after a woman that ended up getting him killed? Or how about when my parents died in a horrific fire and I was forced to give up everything to live with a strange man who didn't even know I existed?

“Maybe you want me to go back further,” Marinette said, voice cracking as Dinah stayed quiet and the tears that had been threatening spilled over. She swiped at them angrily, furious that she was letting her temper get the better of her again. “Like how I had to put up with a shitty school bully for most of my life. Or the fact that I had to give up a crush on a boy because of the aforementioned dead parents.

“Even better, what about when I was forced to become a fucking child hero because some stupid asshole with a god complex decided to start terrorising my home city,” she ranted, switching to French without even thinking about it. For the first time, Dinah's forehead wrinkled as if in confusion and Marinette felt a twisted sense of accomplishment. “And just when I thought I would win, that I could be that hero, I had to give it up. I had to give away my only remaining support because I had to move to the fucking united states to live with strangers.

“It's such a twisted joke that it turns out my biological father is some demented vigilante, who picks up stray children to train up,” Marinette finished quietly, lapsing into silence. She was breathing hard, but something in her had eased slightly, a weight she hadn't been able to shift falling away at finally having said it out loud.

“A child hero?” 

Marinette froze. No. She- why hadn't she thought that the woman might be able to speak French? She had gotten carried away and vented and now her most closely guarded secret was laid bare in front of a perfect stranger.

“...you speak French,” she said flatly, panic clawing at her insides again. When Dinah inclined her head, Marinette forced herself to calm down. “Any chance I can ask you to, just, forget everything I said in French? Maybe we can talk about my emotional trauma from being the reason Jason died instead?”

“I- it's your session, Marinette,” Dinah said, and Marinette was a little relieved (and proud, though she knew that was stupid) to see that the woman was at least a little unsettled. “Why would you think it was your fault that Jason died? Do you blame yourself for your parents death?”

“Don't be silly, my parents died in a freak accident,” Marinette said, giving Dinah a disapproving look. She got one in return and gave a humourless chuckle. “Look, I've come to terms with it. I know what I did, Bruce knows what I did and we both know that I could have kept him safe.”

“So you think that Bruce blames you as well?” Dinah was settling back into her professional demeanour as she found a topic she was familiar with. Marinette snorted again, allowing the brittle shell of humour to act as a shield.

“It's not an assumption, BC,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes. “Look, my father is not the type to pull his punches and he has made it very clear where he lays the blame. And I agree, I'm culpable and I've accepted it. Do I miss Jason? Every single day, but I have grieved him and I'm moving on.”

“Grief isn't a one way track. You will have days for the rest of your life that will swamp you with grief, and that's okay. Even Superman is vulnerable and he has superpowers.”

“Subtle,” Marinette snarked, her arms folding across her chest. “Trust me, I know that it doesn't go away. It's been over a year since my parents died and I still miss them. And there are some days when I can't get out of bed without help. But I'm doing better, and I'm doing it on my own.”

“Just imagine how far you could get with help,” Dinah replied, leaning back in her chair. “Marinette, I want to help. Bruce wants you to get help because he's worried about yo-”

“I'm going to have to stop you there because you're horribly misinformed. Bruce only contacted you because Dick is worried. If it was up to Bruce he would've waited for me to move out and washed his hands of me. You know one facet of Bruce and, in spite of any insight you might gain from your training as a psychologist, that facet is usually focused on a mission. As someone who lives with the man, I can assure you that I have the bigger picture.

“I may not be a trained psychologist, but even I know that you have a bias. Batman is a domineering figure and you look up to him to some extent. You keep saying Bruce is worried about me because that's your belief. If you want to help me with some things then fine, we can talk about anything else. But if you aren't willing to set that bias aside and listen to me, this is already over.”

Dinah looked taken back but nodded slowly. She turned away for a moment before grabbing a pad of paper and a pen.

“You're right, I do have a bias and I'm sorry for dismissing what you said,” Dinah said, cracking the spine of the pad of paper as she turned the top page. “How about this: I'm going to ask you a series of questions about your life - yes, including the little bit you want to pretend you didn't tell me about - and you can answer as much or as little as you want. 

“You're a smart girl and practically an adult. And if I'm interpreting what you said correctly, you have more hidden in your past than even Bruce knows about. I promise that I won't share what you say to me now with anyone else within the confines of the law, and even then I have a little wiggle room.”

“...fine,” Marinette muttered, stretching and grabbing her own sketchbook and pencils. “I'll find this easier if I can sketch while we talk. But instead of twenty questions, I'm going to talk about what I've been through. I'll tell you everything I'm able and willing, and we'll go from there, okay?”

Dinah agreed and Marinette launched into a concise but extremely clear explanation of her last year in collége. She talked about finding magical jewelry in her room, of reluctantly becoming the hero Ladybug and declaring war on Hawkmoth. About her goofy best friend and partner and how he had given her courage even as he exasperated her.

And then came the tough part. 

“I- my friend Alya had been nagging me about spending the night at her place for a sleepover and to look after her sisters with her. Our other friend, Nino, was there with his little brother and then her twin sister got akumatised. We de-evilised them and went back to bed, everything was fine. 

“Bu-but then an officer came for me at her place and took me to the station. And, well, obviously they told me what had happened and everything went sort of blank. I don't fully remember everything that happened, but thankfully I wasn't akumatised. They told me I was moving to America a couple of days later and…I had to give up the earrings. I got to say goodbye to Tikki but it was rushed and I have no idea what's happening with Hawkmoth anymore.”

Marinette buried her head in her hands as she worked to push her feelings about all of this back into the box they were spilling out of. She flinched when Dinah settled onto the sofa next to her, a soothing hand rubbing circles on her back.

“I'm so sorry, Marinette. I can't imagine having your whole world being pulled apart like that, let alone having to move to a new country at the same time.”

“Yeah. But I started to heal, I swear I did. I- Jason used to talk to me about absolutely everything, asking me about my designs or talking about whatever book he was reading. Bruce didn't want me there, he hated that I was forced onto him without so much as a warning text, but Jason did.

“And I couldn't see it because I didn't have the whole picture, but even though he was never anything but sweet and gentle with me, he had this- this anger in him. He would talk about the villains and vigilantes and there would be this undercurrent of rage. But I thought we would have time to help each other, to grow and be…more.

“And then,” Marinette's voice dropped to a whisper, “he told me that he wanted to go after his mom. And I understood it, you know? I would give anything to see my maman and papa again. It's horrible, but if I had to choose between Bruce and them I wouldn't hesitate. 

“So I understood and I told him to go and come back when he could. I lied to Bruce and Alfred, so he would get a headstart on finding Sheila. And when they asked me about it the next morning, I tried to keep them from chasing after him by telling them he had the right to go to her.

“I figured that that was the end of it; Bruce would drag Jason home and we would work out another way for him to get to her. But Bruce came home alone. And I knew, somehow I knew he wasn't coming back but I pretended everything was fine and asked. And he told me he was dead and it took so long for me to even feel anything again.

“But I did, I went through denial, and anger. I prayed to every deity I could think of and begged them to give him back. There was a month where I don't know if I even got out of bed until Dick came and forced me out of the manor. I still don't know if I'll ever be able to feel things like hope, but the fact that I can feel anything feels like a miracle some days.”

They sat in silence for several more moments until a harsh beeping pulled Dinah back over to her desk. Swearing softly, she turned to Marinette apologetically but the teen just waved her off. She knew there were things that trumped what she was going through and, honestly, she needed some time to herself.

_ _ _

“But she's okay, Canary?” Dick said again, hovering by Dinah's elbow as she walked down the halls of the Watchtower. He cringed slightly when she shot him an annoyed look. “Sorry, I'm just worried about her. She bottles things up and I'm just scared that it's going to bubble out of her in a dangerous way one day.”

“I know, Wing, but I promised her I would keep it confidential. She's lost enough that I would like her to keep her privacy,” she said, a gentleness in her tone that, if anything, made Dick more concerned. He nodded, however and let Dinah leave for whatever she was running late for. 

“Yo, Nightwing, what's up?” Tim and his buddy Conner came over to him as he wandered back the way he had come. He smiled at them both, shaking off his stupor and unease. “Did you hear about the Paris situation?”

[sunny1616]

Deluded Pt. 1

Matteo Riddle x Reader

Summary: You and Matteo have a toxic yet addictive bond. Both of you know it and can't help but feed into it further. But what happens when the limit is found and crossed?

Warnings ⚠️: toxic relationship, swearing, arguing

"Sttawpp Matteeo.. i have to get to class..." Matteo, has you trapped in an outdoor alcove at the courtyard. His hands bracket your hips, and his head is nuzzled in the sweet spot between your neck and collar bone. At your request for him to stop his perusal of your neck, he responds with a giggle that tickles you under your jawline. "This is no joke! McGonagall will kill me if i show up late for the third time this month!!... MATTEO IM SERIOUS.." You then brace your forearms against his chest and push off.

"Comme onnn. That old witch won't notice. Know-it-all-Granger takes up all her attention in that class. I know you dont want to go, so why are you wasting this precious, precious time?.." At the last two words, his face is back on the same sensitive spot. And you wiggle again with less will to end it.

"Ughhh, at this rate, we both won't ever graduate. Don't you ever take anything at least a bit seriously?" This was partly a jest, but you also wanted to know if Matteo had the right priorities.

"Why do you have to ruin the mood? Who the fuck cares about school? Both our families are loaded anyway. You could work at any department at the Ministry even if you didnt pass Divination. Besides, no one goes to classes anyways. Blaise, Crab, Goyle, and Theo- even Pansy doesn't give a shit most of the time! BE MORE LIKE HER AND STOP KILLING MY BONER" He ends with an annoyed exasperation. You just gape at his complete disregard for school. Sure, you weren't a stellar student, but you gave at least 60% of an effort. Better than 0, duh?!

"I dont want to be like all those people!! If i want to do something worthwhile after grad, imma have to learn a thing or two to be of some use. My mommy and daddys money can't buy that STUPID!!" Eyes wide, you think about picking up your bag to leave, but before you can reach down, he's already hissing again.

"Holy fuck... your such a fucking tease right now. Fine. Go. I dont give a fuck. You're not irreplaceable, there are 20 other bitches that'll gladly take your place with me right now over some dumbass class." He then frenziedly takes out a cigarette and lights it. Not even looking at you.

After a pause and a breath, you finally say, "Wow. How fucking fragile are you? You cant even go a minute without having your dick wet can you? Its pathetic... Im sorry that i have other priorities than you, a raging manslut!! And since you have 20 other girls under me, i invite you to go to them because im sooo fucking done with your ass. They're all probably waiting oh so patiently too for me to let you go. Too bad for them to soon figure out what a DISAPPOINTING MESS YOU ARE."

"Haha yea right. Let's see how you like it when you can't have me. You're gonna wish you had chosen differently. While i on the other hand get to finally HAVE SOME FUCKING FUN. GO DRY YOUR PUSSY OUT WITH MCGONAGALL AND TRY NOT TO GET RUG BURN WHEN YOU CRAWL BACK TO ME." You're already halfway across the courtyard and dont even turn back when you scream:

"I HOPE YOU KNOW THE NUMBERS BETWEEN 0 AND 20 WHEN YOU COUNTDOWN YOU DUMB FUCKER!!"

You sort of speed stomp across the yard to reach the hallway. Then quickly go to the changing staircase to get onto the right set of stairs in order for you to arrive to class on time.

Now that the nerves of almost missing class have subsided, you are now fuming about everything else. How could he say all those things to you? Though you know Matteo and what he's capable of your delusional thoughts creep in to ask; did he truly mean all those things? He won't actually hook up with other girls, right? Deep down, you knew the answer but still refused to trust it. Matteo is more unlike his father than he is like his father. But in regards to keeping true to his threats, you could say it runs in the family.

Author note: i hope yall are angry at Matteo. Hehe. Part 2 coming soon!

[locklylenerd77]

This my interpretation of Crowley's "no nightingales".

"A nightingale sang" was used at the end of season 1 as a way of showing that all was good, gentle, and romantic.

The song "A nightingale sang in Berkely Square" itself describes a series of romantic scenes, ending each one with "a nightingale sang". This translates to, in terms of Aziraphale and Crowley, their moments together undisturbed. The nightingale singing is the brief happiness they can enjoy in each other's unperturbed company. It's an in-the-moment happy ending that Aziraphale isn't ready to take further yet by agreeing to "go off together" with Crowley because it's "too fast" for him.

But this time, there's "no nightingales". This is Crowley's way of saying "this isn't good or romantic. Look at us. Our relationship is falling apart. This isn't a happy ending.". Every time they argue, they make up with an apology dance that has replaced any form of real, healthy communication. Every time, Crowley comes back or Aziraphale admits he was wrong, and they continue as normal.

This cycle makes it impossible for the relationship to progress romantically- the emotional depth isn't deepening.

This time, Crowley's tired. He's just confessed his love and Aziraphale only repeats his brainwashed desires to return to his toxic manipulator. Crowley is trying to tell Aziraphale, down to the very last moment beside his car, waiting, that this is the final time. There's "no nightingales" because their relationship doesn't rely on their mutual romantic love anymore. It's not enough- they both have to start working to preserve their relationship and communicate better. The "nightingale" is a metaphor for the underlying foundations of trust, co-dependency, intrigue, shared opinions, and playfulness in their relationship. But that's all temporarily gone, now.

Think of it like vacuum cleaners before dyson. The more you use them, the less efficient they become. Crowley and Aziraphale can only ignore the problems in their relationship for so long, polishing over broken floorboards, before it needs to be refurbished entirely. That underlying love is fading because they aren't nurturing it. It's wasting away as they use it to replace communication, understanding, and reassurance.

The nightingale is silent because it's them who need to find a solution this time. They can't go on like this forever- for once they must work it out. They can't (apology) dance forever- Crowley's stepping off the dancefloor and extending a hand to Aziraphale. He's saying, "Do you realize we're in crisis? Do you feel like love alone can save us this time?"

And Aziraphale doesn't hear anything, because its him who's the nightingale, and Crowley's asking him to sing.

The relationship is in Aziraphale's hands, and he's forgotten the lyrics.

[renegade-skywalker]

Forgive Me

Summary:

Incensed with Gale's recent inclination to sacrifice himself, Merit is less inclined to let Gale heal her in the aftermath of a battle in Shadowheart's stead. Though she lets him anyway.

Word Count: 2,701

Rating: T

~~~

“May I humbly suggest we slow down a bit?” Astarion asked, derision coloring his words as if he were speaking them sweetly when Merit and the rest of the party knew that it wasn’t so much a question as much as it was a backhanded warning. “If my bow snags on another twisted branch I will-”

“We need to get back to camp,” Merit snapped, knowing that the man was right but shooting him daggers anyway. Astarion’s eyes flashed scarlet when Merit’s gaze met his unsuspecting one, her stare sharp as she turned on her heel and looked him dead on. The remainder of the party behind him stopped in kind, all of them coming to a hurried stop on the brink of a pile-up. Merit from a day ago would have laughed quietly at the display, but the Merit of today was running out of patience. “Now. ”

“We’ll get there, alright,” Karlach said with an uneasy laugh. “If we just take our time and-”

“We’ve already run out of time,” Merit argued, turning around and trudging on. “The sooner we get everyone to Last Light, the better. We can’t be wasting any more time in this place.”

If she were being honest, the ghostly land surrounding the remains of Reithwin unnerved her. Some semblance of its ruins rang eerily familiar with her memory though she did not yet know why, and as much as the curious part of her mind wanted to find out, the other part felt too suffocated by its encroaching darkness to delve too deep just yet, already afraid that this would be the end of things if only for the foreboding audience Elminster Aumar graced them with whilst politely eating all of their cheese. Merit kept her attention forward, peering through the gloom, though she sensed the remainder of the party exchanging dark glances behind her retreating back. 

“Merit, perhaps the others are right,” Gale finally pleaded with a gentle hand at her elbow, only Merit snatched it away, dancing out of his touch. Her name still sounded sweet on his tongue, yet hearing it still set an ache to well deep in her bones. “Maybe we should-”

The crook of her elbow seared with the closeness, both craving it yet damning it at once. 

“It doesn't matter,” she hissed. “We need to-”

Within the breadth of a moment, the forest around them closed in. The looming darkness shuddered nearly shut, allowing no light to pass, snuffing out their torches and leaving them almost entirely defenseless.

Merit cursed under her breath, wishing they’d gotten farther than they had. They were so close despite the others’ protests, she could even smell the comfort of their camp’s smoke from here, imagining the safety of its light and warmth. As if conjuring an image in exact opposite of her mind’s eye, massive tendrils of thorned roots rose from the ground, threatening to smother them as their limbs were entwined and pulled precariously towards the hard earth beneath their feet.

“Stay still,” Gale warned through the din, his voice cutting through the darkness. “Go against all instinct and relax .”

“But I-” Merit heard Karlach argue from somewhere beside her before Gale hushed her in a calming tone. She wanted to be annoyed with him. She wanted to ride her anger from the day before, unsure why a man with a death wish was so keen on all of them surviving just now. But she knew he was right.

“Do as he says,” Merit sighed, fighting against the natural prison still rising from the dirt at her feet threatening to crush her bones to dust. “Imagine you’re asleep. Just pretend.”

The only other thing they could do was potentially light the entire forest ablaze. But that would only manage to anger the already accursed land further, igniting ire along with its twisting, hungry branches.

Merit followed the advice herself, allowing her limbs to go lax and imagining herself as the very air around them, a sheer nothingness instead of the solid something she very much was. Soon she was set free, but only after her entire body was given a good enough squeeze for all the breath to leave her lungs, leaving her lurching in the aftermath, her hand grazing a retreating branch with sharp spearing pain that tore through her. Her vision was already dark but her sight still swam with spots of black, oxygen leaving her system as she collapsed to the ground and her hand throbbed with unspeakable pain.

Merit sucked on her teeth and willed the agony away, her hand lancing with an ice-hot pulse that threatened to overtake her mental faculties entirely. Her vision began to darken further, her skin paling as she suddenly felt cold, but before she could succumb to the anguish, she felt a warmer hand take hers and examine the wound. 

“Hold still,” Gale urged, his voice low and husky. Merit’s vision swam a little less and through the gloom of an impending fainting spell she witnessed the man settle her against the cool of a stone wall beside them and examine her with intent urgency. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

It was such a silly injury. It should have hardly incapacitated her, let alone made her faint, but Merit’s vision continued to swim and fade regardless, her eyes only remaining open and alert out of pure will.

“I’m already fine,” she lied, watching as Gale inspected her hand, kneeling beside her. His hair fell into his eyes as he looked at her, his fingers gentle but probing, investigating just how deep her wound cut into her flesh and just how much magic he would need to summon on her behalf. “You don’t need to-”

“Nonsense,” he cut her off, affording her a proper glance. 

Shadowheart was back at camp, she thought sourly, earning her much-needed rest after succumbing to an injury of her own though one far less dire. Merit’s skin prickled, the damage clearer now as time passed and poison seeped beneath her skin with an urgent intent to do her in.

Gale’s dark eyes were wide as discs, the worry clear on his face as his gaze met hers. Something in her stirred, whatever dismay and discontent dwelling within her at his recent suicidal disposition dissipating as she watched him. Even as he worked, his eyes remained fearful, not of his handiwork but of her injury. Gale shot her another worried glance before eventually closing his hand around hers as the Weave began to sew her wound shut. “How do you feel?”

His voice was still low, his expression earnest. Whatever concern remained must have been genuine, she thought, wondering if someone intent on their own needless self-sacrifice would at all be capable of feigning such anguish knowing that what came after might very well outlive them. If she were being honest, her hand felt better and almost as if it had never been slashed. But her insides felt otherwise, a well of sentiment flooding her suddenly as she read perhaps too deeply into Gale’s expression as he held her hand clasped between his - both warm and comforting, a feeling she instantly knew she wanted to feel more of but wasn’t prepared to injure herself further in order to perpetuate, though maybe…

“B-better,” she stammered stupidly, her eyes still fixed on his, “Much better.”

The last part came out as almost a whisper, but also a confession. To herself as well as to him, whether he knew it or not. As irrationally irate as she’d felt in the aftermath of their previous conversation, Merit couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with the man kneeling before her, wondering if she were stupid for it or simply misguided given his recent sacrificial insistence. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, already knowing her all too well. Gale examined her hand, and upon seeing that the previous gash had since restitched itself, he brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against her skin. “Because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He didn’t say as much, but Merit felt it once his lips graced her fingers - a sweet but solemn please forgive me.

Merit stilled, stone as a statue. It was only just the other day that Gale mentioned learning more medicinal magic in order to better help the party, and here he was already mastering the spell and performing it effortlessly, even if he was very much planning on leaving them forever. And it was of course the latter that gave Merit pause.

“Gale -” she uttered his name, soft as if like a prayer, but he stopped her there too, reaching a hand up towards her face, his fingers threading through the hair at her temple and gently brushing it out of her still-dizzy eyeline. 

“Let me do this for you,” he pleaded. “Please.”

His eyes bore into hers, as earnest as ever.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he added in a harrowed half-whisper, “Just… let me repay the favor, at least. While I still can.”

Merit could only nod, leaning into his palm as he cradled her still-weary head.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I think I can do that.”

Gale smiled a charming half-smile and leaned ever so much closer.

“Good.”

Merit’s eyes fluttered shut, calmed by Gale’s words but especially his comforting closeness. What felt like a single exhausted moment passed in her mind but when she next blinked she was back at camp and unsure of all that had transpired between. 

“Where-?” Merit sat up and spun around, her head swimming. “How-?”

“Ho there,” Gale’s careful voice warned against the quiet of the camp. It took a moment for Merit to realize exactly where she was after parsing out just how much time had passed as well. “Careful, careful…”

Gale’s easy hand eased Merit back into a reclined position, finding herself suddenly laying near the fire she only just now realized was beside her, the remainder of the camp asleep. It felt alien though not entirely unwelcome to feel Gale this close. In fact, it warmed her in a way the fire couldn’t, her limbs suddenly freezing yet burning at once, shivering in her physiological confusion.

“It’s been about a day,” Gale whispered, one hand now softly gracing her forehead, which she now realized was clammy and cold. “You fell quick with a fever. But you’re coming around now, which is-”

He exhaled, a relieved smile crossing his face as he did. Despite the illness roiling through her, some inner part of Merit warmed at the display.

“Quite the comfort, to be honest,” Gale admitted eventually. His careful hand continued to caress her forehead with practiced pause, his touch ever-so-gentle yet ever-so-earnest all the same, his thumb stroking her skin as if he were both trying to be soft with her while also hungrily committing all of her to memory. 

“Did I-?” Merit began before coughing, all thought diminishing with the action. Gale held her still, his hand a steady one against her uncertain ailments.

“You just need to ride out the remainder of the fever, that’s all,” he assured. “It’s the poison, I suspect, though the shadow curse somehow made it worse and dealt additional necrotic injury. Shadowheart said as much. She examined your wound earlier as well, though she’s long since returned to her own much-needed rest.”

“But we need to get to Last Light,” Merit argued even if her body felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. Her bones might as well have been stones and if she were ever to be thrown into a lake, Merit would surely sink to the bottom of it. “We need to-”

“Tomorrow,” Gale assured her. “Tomorrow is another day.”

At least I'll have that with you, she thought. Before the end.

All Merit could do was sigh, involuntarily slumping against the lumpy pillows piled precariously behind her aching back.

“Here, allow me-” Gale reached over and adjusted her arrangement, but in doing so propped Merit against his own bracing chest while he worked. 

It took some effort, her every limb an anchor, but Merit raised a hand and stilled Gale’s eager movements. 

“Here’s fine,” she said softly, her voice a hoarse whisper. 

Gale looked at Merit sidelong, unsure, though he relented anyway, propping the pillows up beside himself instead so Merit could rest against his warmth. She could use it, Merit thought, sickness running through her with another feverish chill. But it was more than that. If Gale was true to his word, this may very well be her last night with him alive by her side, fever be damned. Any shared moment could be their last. And as angry as she was the day before, she found herself suddenly bereft of it now, left only with an incurable unease she felt might never go away. 

“You were watching over me?” she asked instead of voicing any of her inner worry, her voice a hollow shell of what she knew it to be. It was in part due to the fever, her head not feeling entirely a part of the rest of Merit’s body, but it was also in part to the quiet astonishment she felt at the realization of it as she spotted not one but two cups of tea beside her, two plates, as well as an open book placed face-down in the dirt nearby. 

“Someone had to,” Gale said as if he hadn’t volunteered, the truth of it clear on his face. His cheeks flushed red as Merit leaned more earnestly against him, in part because she had no strength not to, but also because it felt warm here beside him. Being this close afforded a warmth no fire could hope to match.

“If you say so,” Merit replied, hiding a small smile. “What are you reading?”

It was such an innocent question. Merit was entirely capable of reading it herself, the title apparent to her even from the angle at which she spied the book itself, but she wanted to hear Gale say it. She wanted to hear his voice and memorize his every intonation, relish in his every murmuring word. 

“It’s a history of the Grymforge,” he breathed into a laugh, perhaps also aware that Merit was capable of detecting the title full-well. “I know we’re clear of the place now and the crumbling monument is now behind us, but I found its insight on the Dark Justiciars to be an enlightening one, if not only for our friend’s sake.”

Would a man with a dying wish want to learn more about something that perhaps housed the future fate of one their own? Would a man waiting to die deign himself with more knowledge knowing he couldn’t take it with him?

None of these thoughts made it to the surface of Merit's lips, though the sentiments laced her tongue. She wanted to ask, but she also didn't want to know. Lest the answers she yielded were not the ones she wanted to hear.

“Read it to me,” Merit said, instead her voice laced with a lazy sort of love she couldn’t hide anymore, Gale’s earlier plea for forgiveness suddenly and all-encompassingly forgiven despite the fearfully eternal ache setting up camp at the base of her heart.

Gale looked at her sidelong again, his face growing red at the request.

“Read it to you?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, nuzzling against him. She felt him tense beneath her before succumbing to her closeness just as she did in kind. “And even when I’m asleep, just keep going. Okay?”

She wanted to hear his voice. For now and into eternity. Into sleep and beyond. 

Merit glanced over her shoulder, and despite the headache that slashed behind her eyes with the motion, she smiled, pleased to see Gale smile softly back at her. Sleep threatened the corners of her vision, but she held his gaze, studying the sight of him until the very scene was etched forever in her memory. If she was going to remember Gale long after he was gone, she wanted it to be like this.

Gale nodded, unspoken emotion welling in his eyes as he uttered in kind, “Okay.”

[catras-breakup-song]

if sp0p-r0m4nticizes-4buse could stop screenshotting people’s posts to talk about and tear them down without our knowledge, that’d be fantastic. i fucking hate that blog more than others in the 4nt1 circle and was warned apparently the runner is someone to stay away from but now they’ve gone after both me and a beloved mutual directly/personally unprompted for opinions cr1t1c1zing how catradora was handled better than caitvi. i feel like a fool for not blocking on my own cr1t1cal space sooner (or hell even reblogging in agreement about other things first — now deleted) so now i’m just pissed because i have to go and write a response post that i never wanted to debate. i have the counterarguments i could link back to after having already discussed them here for my own peace of mind, but i’ve decided i probably shouldn’t waste my time since it’s only going to make my problem worse and doing so when they won’t even be able to read those posts since i’m not willing to unblock for more drama would be a low blow. i’ll just ignore from here on out.

i’m just upset that the tone was so insulting (“objectively incorrect take, this person didn’t even watch the same show, you can’t like one but not the other, etc.”) so forgive me if this vent is a bit disagreeable because i really try to be better and more respectful than that when i actually do argue with people. i’ve already gone through this a couple months ago with someone else who was faking their civility to my face while also subposting about me so i guess at least SRA didn’t do that… this shit isn’t gonna make stans want to understand your perspective, by the way.

i will admit i did something similar to one of their posts not too long ago (which is where in the comments i was advised to not further engage) so i guess that makes me a hypocrite and i apologize… however i think the difference is i don’t run this blog solely to continue obsessing a piece of media i didn’t enjoy and constantly start discourse over people’s interest in it, nor would that person stress out over being attacked without even necessarily being made aware.

[limerental]

ficletvember 2024 - day 30

isengrim/dijkstra

Isengrim cares for his human lover in his frail old age.

The townhouse stairs creak as the elf climbs, balancing a dinner tray, and though he navigates them easily, his reflexes honed by years of combat in wild Northern forests, Isengrim curses as he always does the steepness and uneven breadth of the stairs.

“We should've retired to the coast,” he says as the final landing gives way to the fire-warmed bedroom. “Anywhere but Novigrad. I fear the house grows more crooked by the day. I'm liable to finally break a leg on these damn steps, and then who will take care of you?”

He sets the tray on a bedside table and leans to fix the pillows that prop up the old man in bed. 

“You gettin’ old, Grim?” asks Sigi with the crack of a dry smile. Though it's midday, he only woke some time ago and is likely to sleep again soon. Isengrim adjusts the pillow so that his head doesn't list and touches his lips briefly to his bald crown.

Isengrim truly does feel old, nearing three hundred years with most of them squandered on joyless, ill-fated ventures that have amounted to nothing. Sigi has just passed eighty-five. Not ancient for a human by any means, but this past winter was hard on his health and his damaged ankle and arthritis and varying other ailments plague him and these days even rising from bed is an ordeal.

It aches to even look at him, each time expecting the hale and massive man he'd met in the wilderness. Age has shrunk the human to alarming smallness, stooping his back and leaving his limbs frail as bare bone, his cheeks hollowed.

Isengrim remembers thinking he'd looked terribly old back then, as most humans do to him, how he had once balked at the things he felt. Surely, he could not feel any attraction toward an ugly, oafish human past his prime. Surely said human could feel no desire for some disfigured, rangy elf. 

But both had, in deep and fierce ways that lasted.

“We could be sunning ourselves on the beach,” Isengrim says as he pours out a mug of tea, stirring in just the right amount of cream, “but no, you couldn't possibly sell this wretched place.”

“It's our home,” says Sigi. He coughs, and Isengrim helps him drink small sips, barely a moment before he's waved a way. “The beaches in Novigrad are shit anyway.”

“Somewhere further south then. Or in the East.”

“I’ve had my fill of travel. I've had my grave plot in Redania paid for for years, and I'll not have that go to waste.”

He may have made some quip about human burials being both needlessly tedious and lacking the artistry of Elven crypts, but it feels a little too real and raw these days, the time approaching when Sigi will pass.

Sigi wanted a simple stone on the round of a hill. No inscription but his name. He'd balked at the thought of Isengrim commissioning a statue of him, something looming and life-like. He'd rather fade into the shadows of history, as forgotten as any spy.

It's been months since the human has left the bedroom at all, far longer since he navigated the cumbersome stairs without aid. Years ago, they'd argued often about relocating, at least in converting one of the downstairs rooms to a bedchamber, but Sigi has always been ceaselessly and wretchedly stubborn and will be to the very bitter end.

The townhouse has been their home for nearly three decades, and the top floor bedroom is the safest and warmest place that Isengrim has ever known. Seeping pleasure and comfort and security, all felt between these walls, in this bed, in the arms of this man.

Once he finally leaves it, he's unlikely to know something close to those feelings again. 

Isengrim tries to coax the old man into eating the bowl of soup he's brought up on the tray, but as usual, Sigi has no appetite and resists the offered spoon. It’s a futile effort, but Isengrim is stubborn in equal measure. 

Part of him think Sigi's choosing not to eat, forcing himself to dwindle faster so as not to burden Isengrim more than need be. The thought clenches something in his chest. If need be, he would clean chamberpots and help Sigi bathe and carry him anywhere, always, for hundreds more years.

“Speaking of the coast,” says Sigi.

“Not this again.”

“Reliable sources say there's a fleet of vessels readying to sail. That there's a gate across the sea that the elves plan to cross through.”

“It’s a fairytale,” says Isengrim. “Your bard's been telling you bedtime stories.”

He knows it's true, that for years the remaining elves have planned to depart this world. The efforts of the Scoia’tael have amounted to nothing, few left alive, and even the elves in Dol Blathanna have grown weary of human hostility. Francesca had been bold enough to request he join them, but he could tell she'd known his answer even as she asked.

What could any other world have to offer him?

His place is here.

“I have the coin. Pay someone to mind me, and board a boat, Wolf.” His beloved speaks slowly, trailing off with weariness.

“Pity the poor bastard who took that job,” says Isengrim. “You know they'd never do a single thing to your liking.”

Sigi hums in agreement and closes his eyes.

He sleeps until dusk and wakes as he does some evenings, delirious and agitated, not knowing how many years have passed since their long nights in Zerrikania. 

He asks for a drink, that mulled wine they bought in the market last summer.

“You downed the lot of it, remember?”  Isengrim recalls the spice on his tongue, kissed off of warm lips. The remainder of that night blurs with the rest of them spent in the East. 

Had that been the night Sigi dared to hoist Isengrim over his shoulder to drag him off to bed?  Or the one where they'd gotten so drunk they'd nearly toppled from the balcony? Or when they had first offered hushed confessions, quiet with the impossibility of the feeling, to be so close to another living person, to feel subsumed by him entirely.

Isengrim is glad at least that Sigi has yet to wake and not know him at all, to balk at the presence of a strange, disfigured elf in his bedchamber. When his memory fails him, he is always brought back to the earliest days of loving one another, feeling young together, living their tenderest moments over again.

Sigi spends an hour telling stories he told yesterday, and when Isengrim goes downstairs for more firewood, he returns to find him sleeping again. 

The tired elf feeds a log to the fire, dresses for bed, and climbs in beside the old man to lay a hand on his sharp breastbone as it rises and falls, waiting for the end.

[mimiwrites2000]

Red Eyes See Grey World

CHAPTER One / TWO

Archive of Our Own

He realized that he knew the ocean long ago. When he first looked into her eyes. She held the ocean and the sky in them, colliding and harmonizing to the waves. If only he knew, he would’ve held the ocean in his hands, never letting it go. But she was slipping away from him, Away she drifted, far from him. Wars never held happy endings. But the universes shifted and clashed. The constellations reformed in the sky, and life was reborn again. And maybe, just maybe, he might be able to fullfil his promise to her, in another life, in another universe.

Blue Sky and White Earth

Armin, I am so sorry, I know you need some time alone, but me and Eren and worried sick about you, you can’t just keep ignoring us like that, please, pick up your phone.

Armin poured the steaming hot coffee in his cold-resistance steel cup, closing the lid tightly, and placing it on the kitchen’s table beside his phone, which was playing voice messages.

Bleep! The phone said, indicating a new message, Hi, uh, Armin, I know Mikasa already reached to you, but, I also want to reach out to you, uh, can you please pick up the phone? I know you’re not alright, I know that, but please, let us talk to you, and what are those dreams you are having? Armin, I care for you, please, you need to see someone about this—

Armin pressed the red button that stops the voice messages, put on his thick winter coat, picked up his coffee cup, his black backpack, and headed outside.

Armin lived close to the university campus he went to, it was a ten minutes walk, but sometimes, he would go for a walk a little bit earlier than the start of his lecture. He would walk around, sometimes he would get a sandwich or a coffee, and some other times he would meet up with Mikasa, or Eren, or both, but he preferred spending his mornings alone.

That day, Armin walked a little bit further than his usual routine. He had some time to waste, even though he hated to waste time, because he could compensate for anything in life, except for time. He could never relive one wasted second, he could never bring back one passing moment.

The blue sky looked down at him, it was that kind of a proud bright blue right after a horrendous snow storm, the mercy the sky had after it unleashed its wrath. The pure white clouds obscured the harsh sun rays from him, protecting him. Even though he had a thick coat on, the mere sight of small heaps of snow on the sidewalk made the tips of his fingers freeze with coldness, and he didn’t have to look in a mirror to know how red his nose was.

He usually enjoyed winter, mainly because the streets seemed to fall into a quiet slumber, and people preferred their warm homes rather than the crisp cold air outside.

Which left the streets empty for him to wander around them.

But that day, Armin didn’t wander the streets alone, he roamed them with a troubled heart and frantic thoughts in his head.

He needed some place to sit and think, and maybe write down his thoughts. There was a coffee house right across the corner, and unconsciously, despite the coffee cup in his hand, Armin’s feet led him there.

He had been there many times before, he knew there would be a line waiting for him.

What are those dreams you are having? Eren’s voice echoed in Armin’s head.

They’re not… dreams, Armin argued with the voice inside his head, but he wouldn’t dare saying it out loud to his childhood friends, because it was a mistake to mention those dreams in the first place.

He shouldn’t have told them.

He knew they would never understand, he knew they would brush it off and tell him he was overreacting, that he was stressed from university and that he should give himself a break.

But, no.

They weren’t dreams.

Because humans would see dreams in their sleep, after they closed their eyes. Dreams weren’t felt and seen and lived everyday. Dreams weren’t a ghost that would haunt him everywhere he went.

Dreams weren’t a red sky and grey earth.

Dreams weren’t screams and cries and wails for help.

Dreams weren’t cold kisses and pain pain pain.

Dreams weren’t a person dying in his arms every time he blinked.

How could someone die that many times?

“Are you going to order?” The barista asked, eyeing the coffee in his hand.

Armin blinked.

“Sir,” Someone behind him said, “you’re holding up the line.”

Armin blinked again, turning his head—

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

Blue

Blonde—

“Alright, sir, step to the side,” the barista said again, “let me know when you make up your mind, next!”

Someone pushed past Armin, forcing him to step aside, the same person who told him he was holding up the line.

“Just black, medium please,” she said, fixing a brown scarf around her neck.

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

Blue

Blonde—

“So you don’t just hold up lines, but also stare at people?” She asked him, turning her head and looking straight into his eyes.

“I— I no no, I, I don’t, I don’t, of course, I don’t,” Armin stammered, then he cleared his throat and stepped back; a vague dizziness coated his vision, and he had to rely on something, but there was nothing around, so he rubbed his forehead.

“Are you ok?” She asked him again, her eyebrows meeting in the middle.

Armin removed his hand off of his forehead, he wanted to tell her no, he wasn’t fine, how would he be fine? When was he ever fine?

Armin nodded, before he walked off, away and out of that coffee place, but he didn’t walk far off, he just crouched down at the corner of the building, away from sight.

Armin took deep breaths in, but his chest hurt, it hurt so bad that he took off his coat. The cold crisp air swathed over his whole body, and his skin turned into a ragged road of irritated red skin.

But Armin only focused on the pain in his chest.

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

Blue

Blonde—

She walked past him, right across the corner he was hiding behind, and Armin lurched forward, calling out for her.

“Excuse me!” He almost shouted.

She halted in her tracks and turned around.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” Armin stammered again, he puffed out his chest, trying to calm his breathing, because her blue eyes pierced right through him, and her scent, her scent was too familiar, a little bit foggy with a concoction of iron and ash, but it was there, beneath all those layers. "Do I know you?"

She blinked, "I don't know, do you know me?"

"I just…" awkwardness crept up his neck, and only then did he realize that he had no idea what to say. "I feel like I know you."

"I don't know you," she told him, "if that would make you feel any better… or worse."

"R-right," Armin stuttered, sheepishly rubbing his neck, "I'm sorry, I guess you look like someone I used to know."

"Well," she said, fixing the bag on her shoulder, the steaming hot black coffee in her hand, "good luck," she said, then walked away, her knee length dark skirt swaying, the coat over her shoulders almost reaching the rim of the skirt, and her heeled boots click-clacked down the sidewalk.

His eyes didn't leave her figure until she turned a corner, vanishing from his sight.

~~~~

The next morning, Armin made sure to leave his apartment early enough to camp at that coffee place, and wait for her.

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

He knew that face, he knew that hair, he knew those blue eyes, and he dared… he dared to know those lips.

It all felt like the cheer moment of finding an old wallet in the crevices of a couch. The small humble victory of finding a lost photo in the storage room; he always knew it was there, he was sure of that, but the memory was behind a veil of frustrating fogginess.

He waited for her in that coffee shop, patiently tapping his foot as he occupied a far small table in the corner. He brought his notebooks and pens, mainly to look like he was there for a reason, but he didn't read nor write a single word in any of the notebooks. Instead, he scrolled through his phone, reading his friends texts that he didn’t reply to in over a week. He sighed, he didn’t have any energy to convince them of what he was seeing, how could he make them believe the red sky he saw? The dark black earth drenched in the fresh blood of thousands and thousands of people? How could he make them believe that when the most danger they ever been in was missing the school bus? How would they understand something they had never seen? Never felt? Never lived?

He kept the door of the coffee shop in the corner of his eye, watching it open and close as more people responded to their morning call for caffeine, but she wasn't yet to show up.

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

Blue

Blonde

And a brown scarf

His heart beat in his chest faster, because he felt the familiar presence of her, then his heart beat even faster as the familiar scent of her wafted closer, the same sweet scent under coats of the omnious scent of blood, and then the door opened.

And there she was again.

Click clack, click clack.

She had the same brown skirt and sweater from the day before, the same coat engulfed her figure, but maybe it was a shade brighter than the one she had before, or maybe it was the same, but the white snow swathing the place made it glow.

She is familiar, she is too familiar. 

She glanced at his table, and their eyes met for a fraction of a second, but she walked to the bar and ordered her coffee, a black one, Armin heard her say.

He should look away, he knew he should look away, but all he did was just gaze at her figure, her fingers wrapping around the cup, and instead of walking out the door, she walked towards him.

She caught his eyes as she stepped closer and closer, and he was caught red handed, and it was too late for him to act like it was an accident.

She picked the vacant chair on his table, and sat in front of him, placing her bag on the floor.

“So,” she said.

“Hello,” he answered, greeting an old friend, greeting someone he knew for too long… way too long…

“Do you usually come here?” She asked him.

“On occasion,” he answered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Right…” she retorted, taking a sip from her steaming hot coffee. She pressed her lips together and crossed her legs, “It’s your turn to ask a question.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Alright,” Armin placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward, “how do I know you?”

She smiled, “How do you know me?”

He sighed, and shook his head, he wasn’t going to tell her about… all of that.

“I… I don’t know,” he lied. “It’s… complicated.”

She paused for a second before she said, “And if I tell you that I feel like I know you as well?”

Fourteen words were enough to get his heart racing in his chest once again, he sat at the edge of his seat, his eyebrows met in the middle; in a question, a question he didn’t dare ask out loud because he didn’t trust his voice at that moment.

“I do,” she confirmed his questioning stare, “you look… familiar? But I am sure I have never seen you before, have I?”

Armin laughed, a short laugh that unknotted his tangled tongue, “Now you’re asking me?”

She shook her head and pressed her lips together, “It’s weird.”

“It really is,” Armin agreed, because it really was weird.

“So,” she cleared her throat, “you go to the university close by?”

“I do,” he said, “I assume you don’t.”

“You’re correct,” she answered, “do you live around?”

“I lived my whole life in this town,” he answered.

“Oh… how come I never saw you?” She asked him, “I never left this town either.”

Armin pressed his lips together; the town only had two highschools, and even though she looked a couple of years older than him, still, he would've at least seen her face before.

“That’s weird,” then she picked her coffee up, except she held it from the lid.

Armin saw it; saw the cup staggering, the lid not closed correctly.

“Hey don’t—”

But it was too late, the cup fell from the lid, falling on the table, and spilling.

She cursed under her breath as she instinctively stood up, but luckily, most of the cup spilled on the table and the floor, but her fingers reddened; the coffee was extremely hot after all.

Armin stood as well, reaching out for her, his eyes on her fingers as he said, “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’ll just heal it.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, inspecting her fingers, “it’ll… it will heal.”

Armin got closer to her, held her wrist, the thick sleeve of her wool sweater a barrier between their skin, then he observed the wound.

She watched his face, his eyes, his nose, eyebrows, lashes— lips.

Her heart raced in her chest.

You’ll just heal it.

“I will just heal it?” She asked him.

And he blinked, once, twice, then turned to look in her eyes.

Where did that come from? Where did he get the idea that she would just… heal it?

It felt… from another time.

From another… life.

His fingers shifted, the tiniest bit, just enough for the tip of his fingers to touch the inside of her palm.

In one instant, a name rang in Armin's head.

Clear.

Loud.

Annie

“Armin,” she called his name, her eyebrows scrunching in the middle, then they raised up her forehead, “Armin,” she sighed his name again, finding the light in the end of the tunnel.

Of course, Annie, of course her name is Annie, it was that simple, that easy, that familiar.

Annie

Annie

Annie

She closed her eyes and shook her head, taking a step backwards, “You’re… Armin? You’re him?”

But he didn’t answer her, because threads weaved from those thoughts in his head and connected it all together, and it just… made sense, it all made sense.

She took a deep breath, then she inched closer to him and held his face in her hands, forcing him to look straight into her eyes.

“Armin?” She called his name.

And he was no longer looking at a stranger.

He was no longer looking at someone who was familiar.

He was looking at Annie.

He was looking into Annie’s blue eyes.

It all came rushing back to him in shivers that coated his skin, his fingers trembled and his toes suddenly turned into bricks of heavy ice. His chest heaved with labored breath and the edges of his eyes burnt.

Armin’s throat was closing up as his fingers brushed the skin of her hand.

“Annie…” he breathed out her name, his tongue naturally bending and saying the name, so easily, a mantra that danced on his tongue for the entirety of a life before.

His last life.

“Oh, Annie,” his fingers clenched around her hands, wrapping around her fingers and bringing them up to his lips. His lips placed a kiss on each of her knuckles on both of her hands, until they reached the reddened fingers, then his kisses became sloppy with the salt from his tears, falling down on their joined hands.

“Armin, oh Armin,” She said, tilting her head to the side and watching his face, then words came out choking her, “it’s alright, we can talk now, we can talk now.”

“You remember? Annie? You do?” Not believing his eyes, not believing his ears.

She nodded, “Yes, yes of course, yes, I do, yes,” she assured him, “do you?”

He nodded promptly, “I remember it more than anything ever, I don’t know… I don’t know how I forgot it.”

She hummed, then she was about to open her mouth to say something, but the barista interrupted, “What happened here?”

Armin and Annie spun their heads towards the barista, and she was standing there, her mouth agape; a coffee cup spilled on the floor, and two adults holding hands and crying. 

Then Armin noticed that every eye in the coffee house was turned towards them.

“Sorry,” Annie said, pulling Armin's hand down beside her, “we will leave, sorry.”

And that was all Armin had to hear; he grabbed Annie’s hand even tighter and almost sprinted towards the exit, pulling her behind him, he heard some gasps from the people, but he didn’t care, he pushed the door open, and walked outside onto the cold snowy winter, ignoring the barista's warnings about their abandoned items on the table.

He needed to be alone with her, he had to be alone with her, he waited a whole life for that moment, but waiting for one more minute… he couldn’t wait.

He kept walking, then he picked up the speed, then in no time he was running, and Annie was sprinting behind him, until he reached a small alleyway, he turned into it, pulling Annie behind him.

Then he caught his breath, turning to watch Annie’s face. White breath came out of her mouth as she took her breath as well, but he didn’t wait any longer, he wrapped his arms around her, and hugged her.

She hugged him, even more tightly, wrapping her arms around his back and bringing his body close to her, so so so close.

He buried his face in her neck, rubbing his forehead against her skin, then he took in a deep breath, “Gosh… Annie.”

“I know,” she said, “I know.”

“You’re alive, oh Gosh, you’re alive,” Armin muttered, his voice muffled against her.

“You were gone after me?” Annie asked him, “you died?”

Armin’s head spun on his shoulder, the weight of memories rushing back to him like an avalanche squishing him under tons and tons of heavy snow, and there was a speck of ridiculousness on top of it all; who would ask someone if they died or not?

“I don’t know,” Armin said, “I mean, last thing I remember… was you, and you died,” Armin pulled away enough to look into her eyes, his arms steady around her, scared that the wind would blow her away from his reach.

“I didn’t heal, I couldn’t heal,” Annie told him, one of her hands went up to hold his face, “I really tried, but I don’t know why I just…”

“It was the same for me,” Armin reassured her, “I… I am scared to think of it.”

“It’s Eren, right?” Annie said the words he was dancing around, “he did something, with the founder—”

“He did, yes,” Armin sighed, shaking his head, “oh, Eren.”

Then Annie’s thumb rubbed circles on Armin’s cheek, and she said, “Where have you been?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did it take you so long to find me?”

Armin smiled, pulling her close to himself again, hugging her, “I don’t know, I couldn’t even know if any of it was true, I just… I thought I was going crazy.”

“Me as well,” Annie closed her eyes, as she relied her weight on him, her knees no longer able to hold her up.

Armin pulled away, just enough to tilt his head and capture her lips with his, and he kissed her.

He closed his eyes, and inhaled against her lips, taking a deep breath, blowing life into his veins, and it felt like it was his very first breath, the first time air penetrated his lungs.

Annie pulled him closer and kissed him back, and it was like that time he kissed her, but without the scent of pungent blood in the air, without the darkness of smoke and ashes, without the red angry sky and the black earth.

She kissed him, and it was like her life didn’t start before that, like her life had been put on hold, running in the same spot, and only then, only when she touched his lips, only when she moved against his lips, did her life resume.

The stars aligned, and the two universes crashed together in a moment of time, in a kiss.

Armin sighed against her lips, because he waited a whole life for this, he waited a whole life to hold her in his arms, he waited a whole life to be with her.

But he wanted more, he needed more

“Annie,” he muttered her name against her lips, then he pulled away and held her face in his hands, “I lost you twice, I don’t want to lose you again.”

Annie nodded, because she couldn’t find words, her tongue tangled in her mouth.

“Come home with me.”

~~~~~

The ride to his home was nothing but a quick blur; he took Annie’s hand and walked out of that alleyway, then he gestured to a taxi, because he couldn’t tolerate the wasted time on walking.

His fingers shook as he unlocked his door, and in one moment after they passed the threshold, their clothes started coming off, one piece after another, until they no longer had a thread of modesty on them as they reached Armin’s bed. Despite the accumulated snow outside, the temperature in his room rose way above what his body could tolerate, his skin burnt, and it brought more memories to the front of his head.

But she was there, in front of him, in another life, yes, but it was her; Annie, and there was only one Annie in all of universes and lives and cosmos that he would be with.

Annie.

Blonde hair, and blue eyes.

His mouth didn’t leave an inch of skin without kissing it, from her lips, down to her neck, collarbone, lingering a little bit longer at her chest, then at her abdomen, thighs, knees, and her feet.

He breathed her name, over and over again, because he was still in disbelief. The last time he saw her was a whole life before, but it felt like yesterday, it was so fresh in his mind, so close.

Her dead weight in his arms, her eyes losing their light…

It was all so fresh in his mind.

So he got up from her feet, hovered over her and looked straight into her eyes, “I missed you, I missed you, so much.”

She wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders, watching his face, her eyes going down, observing all of his body, then back up again to gaze into the ocean of his eyes.

“I always felt the absence of you,” she told him, “but now I don’t know if my heart can handle the presence of you.”

Armin smiled, and leaned closer to kiss her lips, “I have dreamt of you, days and nights, in this life, and in that life.”

She kissed his lips.

“I had always wanted to be with you,” he continued, saying his words against her lips, “I have been waiting for this… for so long.”

“So did I,” she told him, caressing his face, his cheeks, his eyebrows, his lips, then his cheeks again, wiping cascading tears away with her fingers.

“I…” Armin started saying, but he hesitated, “have you been with anyone?”

She shook her head, “No, no, you? Have you? Has anyone touched you before?”

He smiled, a sheepish smile on his face, “Annie, my dearest Annie, how could I?”

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“How could I even be with anyone else? Anyone other than you?”

“So you knew? About me?” Annie asked.

Armin sat up, gesturing for Annie to come closer to him, so she did, then he pulled her on his lap, running his hand up and down her sides.

“I felt like I knew about you,” he told her, as she wrapped one arm over his shoulder, the other brushing his bangs from his forehead and running through his hair. “I felt like… I was missing a piece of myself, and, now that I know, now that I remember… I don’t know how I was alive before.”

Annie kissed his lips, “I’m… happy,” she told him, “I’m so happy, I’m the happiest.”

Armin laid her down again on the bed, her hair fanned out under her head, and her cheeks dusted with a rosy red, her chest glistening with sweat and heaving with anticipation.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he said.

“We will, after this, we will.”

“Tell me to stop,” Armin muttered, laying his weight on his elbows on the sides of her head. “Tell me to stop, any time, and I will.”

She nodded, her heart beating in her chest, and her hand laid flat on his chest, the spot right over his heart, and relief washed over her to know his heart thrashed in his chest just like her own.

It didn’t take them long to get going, to get tangled in a heap of moans and groans and sighs. It didn’t take Annie long to run her fingers over his back, leaving traces of scratches, and he paid her back with rough kisses on her neck, on her collarbone, and chest.

She called out his name, the letters dancing on her tongue, a name she had long desired to say, and it fell on Armin’s ear like sweet sweet honey, for her to moan his name and stutter it out as he moved them and touched her, frantic and urgent and yet slow and prudent.

He gazed at her face, watching her expression turn into colorful charades of a pleasure he was causing her, then his sight blurred as his throat tightened, and she caressed his cheeks, wiping the tears off of his face.

“Please,” she whispered, “don’t cry, please.”

But he couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t help but remember the last time he held her, her body shaking with her last breath.

But this time, this time he spread life into every part of her body, and every inch of her muscles shook, but for other reasons, and he had to remind himself that this was another life, this was another time.

So he wrapped his arms around her body and held her up. Their motions became frantic, hectic, sloppy, and unrhythmic, because both had tears running down their faces, and the memories became very clear with every passing moment of their skin touching, the memories came to life again, and they played in front of their eyes, vivid.

He held tighter onto her, his hands promising to never let go of her again, and his lips muttering her name at every moment a moan left her mouth.

They didn’t stop until they reached their destination, everything rushed at them in one explosive instant, and the next moment they knew, they were holding each other, their chests inflating with the air of a new life, the fresh air of a newborn's breath.

Armin wrapped his arms around her sweaty skin, then he pulled the blanket up to their chests as they cooled down and the temperature started to decrease.

Annie looked in his eyes, watching his face, and he did the same, as his arms kept their hold on her under the blanket. He kept checking her eyes, full of life and a specific pleasure that he had never seen in someone’s eyes before.

“You’re safe,” he told her, and told himself as well.

“I know,” she said, her eyelids covering her blue eyes, “I know…”

“I am safe with you,” he continued, “we are safe here.”

“We are,” then she closed her eyes, exhaustion taking over her, and soon enough, she fell into a sweet light slumber, under the warmth of the blanket, and the comfort of his body next to her.

He didn’t sleep, he merely watched her face, pondering over his life, his current life, and his past one.

Maybe it was all connected to some sort of a titan’s Legend, or maybe it was the universe’s way of unfair fairness.

Or maybe it was just them.

Or maybe… maybe it was something else.

Then, Armin realized, that on that day, he became the same exact age as when he died in his past life, it was the same day he walked under red sky and on black earth.

Maybe… he had a second chance to redeem himself, maybe his promise to her had obliged the universe to obey his wish. Maybe the universe had another reason…

Armin didn’t know, and a part of him didn’t care, all he cared about was her, asleep, safe, in his arms.

He didn’t care about the universe, he didn’t care about past lives, all he cared about was the world he held in his arms, all he cared about was her.

~~~~~

“Why is he not answering?”

“Mikasa, do I look like I know?”

“I’m worried…”

“It’s alright, don’t be worried, he’s probably just… studying.”

Those voices stirred Armin out of his sleep, he barely had any energy to open his eyes, he tried to clear his throat, then he stopped himself; the warmth in his arms reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

He opened his eyes, and there she was, just like he remembered.

“Listen I actually have the spare key.”

At that, Armin’s eyes opened wide. He got up, making sure the blanket covered Annie, then put on the first pajamas he saw.

The key clacked in the door, and just as Armin stepped out of his bedroom and closed the door, his childhood friends walked into his apartment.

“Oh there you are!” Eren said, looking Armin’s disheveled status up and down.

“Sorry, I was… sleeping,” Armin excused.

“For a whole week?” Eren asked, inviting himself into Armin’s apartment and sitting on the couch.

“We don’t want to push you,” Mikasa said, “but we got so worried.”

“Ah, yes,” Armin said, trying to comb down his hair, while standing in front of the bedroom’s door, as if protecting it, “I… sorry, it’s a little bit… hectic.”

“So what are those dreams?” Eren asked.

“Hey! We said we will take it easy on him!” Mikasa objected.

“Well,” Eren shrugged, “he looks fine to me.”

“He is stressed, we should not—”

Shuffling from the bedroom froze them all, Armin almost put his hand on the handle of the door, but it flung open before he did.

A very disheveled Annie walked out, and Armin was ready to jump in front of her, but luckily, she was dressed.

In one of his pajamas.

“Sorry,” she said, rubbing her eyes, “I didn’t know what to wear,” then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Armin’s cheek.

Armin swallowed; for one, his friends were in his house, for two, her hair down and her puffy eyes reminded him of days from their past lives, when they were cadets.

“Well,” Eren said, getting up, “you really could’ve just told us you have company.”

“It’s… it’s not that…” Armin’s cheeks reddened.

“Armin you scared us, you really could’ve just told us,” Mikasa sighed, walking towards the door with Eren.

As they opened the door to leave, Armin said, “Hey maybe call before you come in!”

“We’ve been trying!” Eren said, and before he closed the door he said, “you were too busy!”

Armin rubbed his forehead, his whole face warmed up, but then he heard a sweet, quiet laugh.

“They don’t remember shit do they?” Annie said, wrapping her arms around Armin’s waist, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

“It doesn’t look like they do…” He answered, then he wrapped his arms around her as well, “I don’t understand anything.”

“I don’t either,” Annie said, then she yawned, “all I know is that I’m so tired.”

Armin smiled, “Go sleep.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I just want to stay with you,” she told him, “I feel like I could wake up at any second now and find out that this is all just a dream.”

He leaned towards her and kissed her lips, “It’s not a dream, I promise.”

“How could you know?”

Armin laughed, leading Annie to the bedroom, “It really is not a dream.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“I am hungry,” Annie said, sitting on his bed.

Armin laughed, “I’ll get us food, how about you wait for me here?”

She nodded, and before he left, she kissed him one more kiss, then she said against his lips, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He asked.

“For finding me in this life,” Annie said, “I always felt like a piece was missing, and finally, I found it.”

Armin pressed his lips together, “You’re making leaving this bed quite hard.”

“Then don’t leave it,” she shrugged.

So, he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her down on the bed with him.

It might have taken them a whole life, decades, and eras. It might have taken them the constellations to shift and reform. It might have taken them a whole universe to be created.

But they had one ending.

And that ending was to be in each other’s arms.

A promise was a promise, and it seeped through universes and lives and eternities, until it was made real, until it was proven.

~~~~

Author’s note:

It took me… 798 days, or 2 years and 2 month and 7 days, to write the second chapter to this fic, and oh God, it turned into everything I didn’t expect. I had a whole different idea for this chapter when I wrote the first chapter, but then… i don’t know what happened, but, here we are Thank you so much for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed this! It was fun and very emotional to write uwu Feedback is always appreciated! Love you, take care!