#but without him there is no death note bc i hate to say it but mello and the like are not interesting enough to carry it

[grievedifferent]

idc how many people tell me they hate light yagami, it's because they don't know any better

[softspiderling]

est-ce que je t’aime? | j.v

summary:

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

OR; After having spent almost eight namedays in Oldtown, you longed for your return to King’s Landing, to see Jace again. When the day finally comes, you didn’t expect to be thrust in the middle of a war for the crown.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: mention of death (Viserys), canonical violence (follows plot of the show up to Storm’s End), otherwise this part is pretty tame!

word count: 8,2k

author’s note: i do not know a single thing about daeron except for the tidbits we have learned in the show. the rest is made up (but imo my Daeron character analysis is pretty great finally my bachelor's in english has proven useful). this is gonna be a two parter! the first part is heavily reader x daeron/team green focused, while the second part will focus on reader’s and jace’s relationship. title is from GIMS' song est-ce que tu m'aimes which also inspired this fic... also @eldrith bc i fear i will be threatened with a gun if i dont... happy reading 🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I have a letter from the Queen Alicent and and another one from the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” the messenger said, bowing as he stood at the door.

“Thank you Ser.”

Taking the letters, the messenger bowed to take his leave, and you handed Daeron the letter from his mother before settling into your chaise with Jace’s letter.

This was how you and Daeron received news from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. You hated how you had to wait so long to hear news, longing for the time all of you were at King’s Landing together, but you knew that things hadn’t been working out with Rhaenyra and her family nor with Alicent and her children.

You thought that was the main reason Daeron had been sent to Oldtown, to shield him from the tumultuous life at court and you along with him, despite that you had been Helaena’s lady in waiting.

Smiling at the contents of the letter, you tried to imagine Jace’s voice as he told you of Luke taking flight with Arrax for the first time, failing miserably. It had only been two years since you saw him last, but you knew how boys matured quickly in a short span of time, Daeron being the perfect example.

He had only come up to your shoulders when you first arrived in Oldtown, now, he was almost as tall as you.

“Helaena and Aegon were married,” Daeron suddenly said and your hands stilled, lowering Jace’s letter.

You glanced at him, noticing how small his voice sounded. Putting the letter away, you clasped Daeron’s arm, offering some comfort. You knew how hard it was for him to be away from his family and hearing about important news like that through letter just made the distance seem even greater.

“To whom?”

“To each other.”

“What?”

“Look,” Daeron said, handing you the letter his mother had sent him with the official sigil of the Targaryen house. You read through the letter, before sitting back with a surprised sigh.

“Helaena must be devastated,” you muttered, rubbing the side of your temples. You couldn’t imagine how alone Helaena must feel, to be married off to Aegon. He had always been a little crude; you doubted he had changed much.

“I cannot believe mother did not even deem it necessary to bring me home for their wedding,” Daeron said with a frown. “Am I even still her son?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chastised him. “Your mother sent you away for your own good.”

Even as you said those words, you didn’t quite believe them yourself. It had been so long since Daeron has seen his family, you understood sending him away in the first place, but going for so long without a single visit?

With a sigh, Daeron brushed his silver hair back, angling towards Jace’s letter you had left on the table.

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

“So you have thought about marrying my nephew?”

You groaned and Daeron only cackled when you shoved him.

“Go sit and write to your mother,” you told him with a sniff of your nose and even though he grimaced at you, he sat down at the wooden desk, grabbing a roll of parchment. Even though Daeron was of much higher rank than you, he had adopted you as some sort of older sister ever since you two got to Oldtown, with you being the only familiar person from home that was still present in his life, apart from his uncles, of course.

It pained you, to see Daeron long for his family, who seemed to have discarded him so easily. You wondered when he would get to his family again as you reached for Jace’s letter to keep on reading;You wondered when you would get to see Jace again.

It was six more years before either of that would happen. However under much different circumstances than either of you had imagined.

“Urgent news from King’s Landing!” the messenger said, his breath short as he handed Lord Ormund a roll of parchment. You and Daeron glanced at each other; you were in the middle of breaking fast, the most important meal of the day in Oldtown; it must be incredible important news for the messenger to disrupt the meal like that. His face was stony as he read the contents of the letter, before his eyebrows raised in surprise. He lowered the letter, his eyes finding Daeron.

“Your father has passed. They are to crown your brother Aegon to be King. You are expected back in King’s Landing.” Lord Ormund’s eyes found you. “Both of you.”

It didn’t take long for Daeron and you get everything ready for your departure, you barely noticed most of your belongings being packed up, still reeling from the news. You couldn’t believe King Viserys had died. Of course you had known from the letters that Daeron had received from his mother that the king had taken quite ill, but still. And he named Aegon as his new heir? You couldn’t imagine Aegon, the boy who teased his brother endlessly to become King of the Seven Realms, but who were you to judge?

Your hand was itching to write to Jace, despite your last letter still being unanswered. You weren’t sure what had changed, but lately you felt like Jace’s letters had become scarce, every answer taking longer than the last. You weren’t quite bold enough to ask why in a letter, fearing a rejection, but maybe when you saw him, you could gauge his mood. You knew you were to see him at King Viserys’ funeral or the latest at Aegon’s coronation, you would see him sooner than your letter would take to get to him. Despite knowing that, your eyes caught on parchment and quill, so you took leave to Daeron’s chamber to distract yourself.

The door to his chambers stood open as you stepped in, the maids moving in a flurry as they packed his belongings, while Daeron was sitting on his bed, unmoving. Gingerly, you moved to sit behind him, but he barely acknowledged your presence, gazing out of the window.

“I’m sorry about your father’s passing,” you told him, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I have been living without a father for quite some time,” he replied wryly, glancing at you. “I suppose it will not feel any different.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it, hoping to lend him comfort. “I know. But still, I wish he had been a better father to you.”

Daeron only snorted, shaking his head.

“Are you nervous to see your kin again?”

The young Prince let out a laugh, unwinding his hand from your grip to stand.

“Kin? I haven’t seen them in nearly ten years,” he scoffed, starting to pace. “Mother writes to me once in a moon, Helaena’s letters are more confusing than not, and Aegon and Aemond barely write to me on my name day. I have not seen them since my eighth name day.”

“They are still your kin, Daeron.”

“By blood, yes.”

“Is there any other way to be kin?”

You were humoring him, knowing he was frustrated and nervous to see his family but Daeron stopped in his tracks, looking at you.

“Yes. You.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he took his seat next to you again, cradling your hand in his.

“You came with me to Oldtown when you did not have to, gave me a sense of familiarity in this… Farce of a home, lent me comfort in a way my own blood failed to do,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand. “You are my sister in everything but blood.”

“Oh Daeron,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug and letting the younger boy - despite him arguing that he was long a man - find comfort in your arms. Ten and six, and the burden of feeling like you were abandoned by your family. You wished he did not have to feel this way, but you were powerless to change it.

“Swear to me you will not abandon me once we get back to King’s Landing,” Daeron said, pulling away to hold you at an arm’s length, his eyes searching yours.

“I swear it,” you told him, a smile on your face. “Swear to me you will not say any of this to your mother.”

Daeron let out a laugh at that, but you only shook your head, only half-jesting. You know Otto Hightower would fall right to his grave if he had heard Daeron call you his sister. You were high-born, yes, but in no way comparable to a Princess.

A knock sounded on the door, before a squire entered. “Everything has been prepared for your departure my Prince.”

“Very well, we will be right out,” Daeron answered with a nod.

The squire bowed, before leaving again and you squeezed Daeron’s hand, standing.

“I will go fetch my belongings, you go bid farewell to your uncles.”

Daeron nodded, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “I will meet you outside the city walls.”

You touched his cheek gently before you departed. A knight and two maids followed you with bags of sustenance and personal belongings to the city walls, where a handful of dragonkeepers were eyeing the sky. Lifting your gaze, you saw Tessarion fly over the city in circles, a smile growing on your face, excited to be making the trip back to King’s Landing on dragonback.

You had always loved whenever Daeron took you out flying on Tessarion; deep within you wished to feel a bond as special as a dragonrider had with their dragon. You wondered if Jace would take you flying on Vermax, now that all of you were reconvening for the King’s funeral rite and Aegon’s coronation.

Tessarion let out a screech before coming to land on the small green meadow, and you knew Daeron must be close. Surely enough, you heard footsteps coming closer before Daeron stopped just next to you, knights accompanying him.

“Will you miss Oldtown?” You asked him, but Daeron only shook his head.

“Nothing keeping me here,” he answered, stepping forward to greet Tessarion as she landed, calming her as the knights and maids attached the satchels and bags to the saddle. You let out a deep breath, turning to look at Oldtown for one last time. While Daeron had been right, a part of you was sad to leave, as it had been the place you had called home for the last years.

“Are you sure this is King’s Landing?”

The journey to King’s Landing had been uneventful and quick, a half day’s journey only. When you had arrived, flying over the city, Daeron directed Tessarion into the dragon pit, where the dragonkeepers had been waiting. Maids had then taken you into the Red Keep, and you barely had any time to react as you looked at the adornments that decorated castle; countless dedications to the Seven. The busy Keep you had remembered had now been replaced with empty halls and dark walls.

Daeron glanced at you before looking around. “Surely mother’s doing.”

The maid led you into empty chambers, bowing to Daeron.

“The Queen Dowager will be with you shortly, my Prince.”

Daeron thanked her and she inclined her head at him before turning to you.

“My Lady, if you follow me.”

“Where are you taking her?” Daeron, his hand on your arm to stop you from leaving. The maid paused, glancing between the two of you.

“To her chambers, my Prince.”

“She will stay with me.”

“Daeron, you should see your mother by yourself, I can come see you after,” you assured him but Daeron merely shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening.

“I shall not meet my mother alone.”

“Daeron-“

“Please,” Daeron begged, his voice panicked and you sighed, giving in. Only then did Daeron release the grip on your arm.

The maid still paused but she then decided to retreat, but not without bowing to Daeron again. He started pacing in the room, picking up the small trinkets that littered the desk.

“They just put me in my old chambers thinking it will be like I never left.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing around before you realized that Daeron was right - you were standing in his old chambers. They had replaced the furniture and added a bigger bed, but it was the same chambers he had stayed in when he was a little boy.

“They have always kept a place for you to return, is that not a good thing?”

Daeron looked at you with a frown when the doors suddenly opened and Alicent stepped in, in tow with Daeron’s siblings and his grandsire, Otto. Alicent beamed at the sight of her youngest son, though her smile wavered when she saw you, before turning her eyes back to Daeron, opening her arms.

“My boy.”

“Mother,” Daeron replied, his voice hesitant before he fell into her arms, hugging him tightly.

Your heart warmed at the sight and Daeron seemed to lose all of the fears he had been carrying - if only for a split second - as he laid in his mother’s arms. You were content to stay back, let Daeron get reacq with his family again, but you weren’t ignored for long, when someone threw their arms around you with so much momentum, it nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh Gods,” you laughed, a head of silver hair in your face. “Helaena.”

“I missed you,” the Princess whispered and you hugged her back just as tightly, sighing. She gave you one last squeeze, before Helaena pulled away to muster you, running her hands through the ends of your hair.

“You look well,” she said. “Very beautiful.”

You flushed at her kind words, lacing her hands with yours. “So are you, my Princess.”

Helaena smiled brightly at you. “You must meet Jahaera and Jahaerys.”

“There is time for that later,” Alicent decided, cutting in. Helaena’s smile dropped slightly and she fled to your side as her mother stepped to you. You bowed your head to greet her, but Alicent grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you into a hug, surprising you.

“Thank you,” she said quietly in the privacy of the embrace. “Thank you for watching over Daeron when I was unable to.”

You wrapped your arms around Alicent. “Of course my Queen.”

She pulled away, straightening her dress and you caught a glimpse of Otto talking to Daeron before Aegon and Aemond stepped into your view.

“My Princes,” you said, bowing. “My condolences for your father.”

“Thank you,” Aemond said. “He was in great pain, The Stranger freed him.”

His voice was monotone, almost void of emotion and you wondered if any of them mourned their father. Aegon nodded, though he seemed more subdued.

“Are you excited to be King, my Prince?” you asked, hoping to change the topic.

He gave you a wry smile, opening his mouth but Aemond gave him a subtle jab in the side with his elbow.

“Uh, yes, of course, my Lady,” Aegon said, clearing his throat. “Now that we have all reconvened, the coronation cannot come soon enough. You are a much better guest than our nephews.”

That made you pause.

“Jace and Luke were here?” You asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yes. Lord Vaemond challenged Luke as heir for Driftmark and the trial was held at court. They left just shortly before father passed,” Aemond told you, his voice even. You hadn’t known that.

“When are they expected to return?”

Alicent exchanged looks with Otto, silent conversation passing between them and you glanced at Daeron, who seemed just as confused. Something was going on, something you weren’t aware of.

“They are not,” Alicent then said and your lips parted in surprise. “Rhaenyra is upset, rightfully so, that her father had chosen Aegon as his heir, so she decided to remain on Dragonstone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided not to press the matter, only nodding. The topic was quickly brushed off as Alicent wrapped her arm around Daeron, trying to draw him into conversation, asking about his interests. You only listened half-heartedly, your mind still spinning from the news.

“Do you not think all of this odd?” you asked, your voice low. “I know Rhaenyra is proud, but refusing to show up to the coronation or even pay respects to her late father?”

It was the day after your arrival in King’s Landing, the day of the coronation. The day was hectic, the Keep suddenly bustling with servants and maids getting everything ready; you had taken the advantage to sneak into Daeron’s room, something that had gotten much more difficult ever since you got back to King’s Landing.

“Maybe thing’s have changed,” Daeron replied, rubbing his temple. “We have been away for a while, we do not know of the things that have transpired.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a knock on the door interrupted you, a maid coming to fetch you for the coronation was about to begin. As you walked to the carriage, you were arguing with yourself on the inside, knowing that you were privy of most details, thanks to Jace’s letters. You couldn’t believe Rhaenyra wouldn’t rush to King’s Landing to bid farewell to her father. There must be something else holding her back.

As you got to the Dragonpit where the coronation was held, you were surprised that it was over faster than you had imagined, almost like it was rushed. Then again, this was your first coronation so who were you to say this wasn’t how every coronation went? As Aegon raised his hand to the small folk, eliciting applause, you joined in. The applause ceded when a loud growl shook the entire building. Silence followed, before the floor gave away when a dragon emerged through the stone, countless people falling to their death, trampled by the the huge beast with Princess Rhaenys on top.

Meleys, you thought, stood before the family, and Alicent rushed towards Aegon to shield him, cries and pleads from the smallfolk surrounding you. Criston shielded Helaena, and you grasped Daron’s hand as he only stared at his cousin in shock.

With bated breath, everyone waited - to be burnt, eaten, you weren’t sure. But Meleys only let out a deafening roar, before flapping her wings, breaking through the doors to escape to freedom.

“What in the Seven Hells was that?” you muttered to Daeron. He gave you a shrug, squeezing your hand as he looked you over, making sure you were unharmed.

The small folk on the other hand were fighting to get out of the building, which seemed to be crumbling in on itself, and Criston began to usher everyone out.

You were the last to come down from the stairs, taking Daeron’s hand he was offering to you when a crunching sound from above made you lift your head, seeing a large part of the roof cave in, falling right down heading straight for you.

“Sister!”

Daeron gave a harsh tug of your arm, pulling you behind him, as the large slab of stone fell right in the place you were standing mere moments ago.

“Are you well?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he padded you down.

“I’m fine, Daeron.”

“Daeron.”

You both looked up when Alicent called for him, just to see that they were all staring at you, Otto seeming incredibly displeased as you realized what Daeron had just called you. Seven Hells, you thought, this was precisely what you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you even realize what sort of rumors would be spread if anyone had heard you refer to her as “sister”?!”

You were pacing in front of the study, voices muffled through the wooden door. After you had gotten back to the Keep, Helaena and Aegon had returned to their children, while Otto and Alicent had dragged Daeron into the study. Neither of them sounded particularly happy, their raised voices spilling out of the room. You were wringing your hands, something that you had been doing a lot since you got to King’s Landing. Not even three nights ago, you were in Oldtown wondering if you were ever to return to King’s Landing, now you were back and everything was happening so fast and you felt like you were missing a big part of the story. When did the King change his mind about his heir? Why wouldn’t Rhaenyra and Daemon return to King’s Landing following the King’s death? And why in the Seven Hells did Rhaenys break through the floor with Meleys like she was being held captive? You had so many questions, none of which you had answer to; deep in thoughts, you didn’t even notice someone approaching you.

“Eavesdropping, are we?”

Letting out a small gasp, you jumped to face Aemond, a hand on your chest as he eyed you, unimpressed.

“Gods, you scared me,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I am waiting on Daeron. Your mother and grandsire didn’t want me to come in.”

Clearly.

Aemond didn’t say anything else as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. You eyed him as he stood there, on guard. It was hard to gauge him; you felt like Aemond was waiting for you to make a mistake so he had a reason to get rid of you. You remembered the soft, warm boy he used to be when you first got to King’s Landing. You wondered when he had changed, if it was when Luke took his eye or before.

“I should have known Daeron would cling to you after you had gone to Oldtown with him,” he said, his voice slow. “What is it, that you are planning to do with him? Make him infatuated with you so you can insinuate yourself into our family?”

Your ears grew hot at his implication. How dare he abandon his brother for nearly all his life and accuse you of having improper thoughts?

“Daeron is like a brother to me,” you said, voice indignant. “I care about him and I mislike being accused of such a horrible things.”

“So you vow your loyalty to our family, to Aegon as King?”

The way Aemond phrased the question made it seem like you had a choice and you hesitated, the fight leaving you.

“Of course, he’s the rightful heir, is he not?”

Aemond only gave a nod, taking a step back. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, but the door opened and Daeron stepped out, his face in a scowl.

“What happened?” you asked, but he only gave a brief shake of his head. He inclined his head, and you followed him, a knight on your trail, while Aemond stayed behind. The two of you walked for a while, until you reached the gardens, the knight staying by the edge as you and Daeron took a seat on a bench. He still seemed agitated, so you placed your hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“They accused me of impropriety,” Daeron muttered. “Said that I was opening our family up for vulnerabilities and rumors.”

“We’re not in Oldtown anymore, Daeron, everything you do here is looked upon,” you sighed.

“What is improper about calling you my sister? You have been by my side since my eighth name day,” he argued. “How can I call a woman my mother when I haven’t seen her since I was a boy? The strangers brothers and sister, when I barely recognize them?” Daeron hissed, his voice rising.

“I know you’re upset,” you said quietly, eyes darting around, not wanting him to get in even more trouble. “It’s hard for them to understand. They are not trying to hurt you.”

“Did they not try to hurt me when they cast me out of the family?”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, and Daeron let out a shaky breath, staring out in the distance.

“How is my brother faring?”

You shut the door to Daron’s chambers quietly to find Aemond waiting just in front. After you had spent the rest of the afternoon in the gardens, you had thought it best if Daeron laid down for a while before supper, hoping it would calm him.

“It’s hard for him to find his footing here. His life in Oldtown hasn’t been this… Restrictive. It will take him time to adjust.”

Aemond nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I was hoping he would accompany me,” he said. “But I do not think he sounds well enough to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Storm’s End. To get Lord Borros to vow for my brother.”

What?

“Forgive me but who else would he be loyal to?”

Aemond turned around, looking at you in disdain.

“Rhaenyra. She might think she still has some claim on the throne.”

He paused, eyeing you carefully.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Aemond’s eye swept over you once more and he nodded.

“Yes, it will look good to Lord Borros if someone outside of our family is there showing support to Aegon,” he insisted. “It will be a short flight on Vhagar.”

“Very well,” you said, a glance on Daron’s closed door, wondering if you should tell him that you would be gone, but it sounded like the trip to Storm’s End wouldn’t be long, so you decided against waking him. You could tell him after.

You followed Aemond to the dragonpit, where a maid laid a cloak around your shoulders as you watched Aemond mount Vhagar, the breath stocking in your throat at the size of his dragon. Vhagar was large and old, barely able to turn in the dragon pit without brushing the cave.

“Come,” Aemond said, offering his hand to you before pulling you into the saddle, instructing you to hold on tightly.

“Soves, Vhagar!”

With a loud growl, Vhagar stepped out of the dragon pit before taking to the skies, her enormous wings stretching out several feet. The ride on Vhagar was much smoother than every ride you had ever taken on Tessarion, and it wasn’t long before you reached Storm’s End, dark clouds following you. Vhagar landed in the courtyard, you and Aemond climbing off.

“Just in time,” the Baratheon knight said, watching the rain pour from the skies just as you stepped under the roof.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, brother of King Aegon II,” Aemond said, fixing his doublet. “I am here to talk to Lord Borros.”

The knight lead him into the Round Hall, where Lord Borros sat on his seat, seemingly having expected Aemond, his four daughters standing idly next to him.

“Prince Aemond, what can I do for you?”

“Lord Borros, I am here to ask you to pledge loyalty to my brother, King Aegon II.”

“King Aegon, you say,” Lord Borros said, arrogance dripping from his voice. “And what do you offer me for my loyalty?”

You were taken aback by his words, but Aemond only smiled, his hands locked behind his back.

“Your four daughters… They are still unwed?”

A smile spread on Lord Borros’ face and he gestured to his four daughters with his arm.

“Indeed. Are you proposing a betrothal?”

Aemond inclined his head. “Not only am I free to marry, but my younger brother, Prince Daeron as well. His lady companion can attest to his formidable character.”

Your eyes widened at Aemond’s words and you glanced at him, anger welling up inside you. So this was why he had wanted you to come. Aemond paid you no mind and you exhaled deeply, turning to face Lord Borros again, putting up a faux smile.

“Excellent, excellent,” Lord Borros said, clapping his hands. “Let us discuss-“

“My Lord!” A knight called, striding into the hall with quick steps. “Another dragon has been sighted, headed straight to Storm’s End.”

“Ah, that must be my nephew,” Aemond replied easily, your heart skipping a beat. Were you finally going to see Jace again? Lord Borros gestured to the side, and Aemond placed his hand to your lower back to push you along; you fought your urge to slap his hand away from you, eyes darting over to the door.

The heavy rain was still pelting outside, nearly drowning out the sound of the steps as a young boy entered.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon,” the knight announced. “Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Luke, you thought, looking at the young Prince, now old enough to be delivering messages. The last time you saw him, he was round faced, his dark locks curling around his angelic face. Seeing him lessened the fire in your chest, though you were still angry at this whole situation, and you threw Aemond a look. He didn’t seem like he was paying any attention anyhow, his focus on his nephew who came further into the hall.

Luke’s step faltered when he saw Aemond, before his eyes laid on you. You tried to give him a comforting smile, show him you were a friendly face in a crowd of hostiles, knowing Luke was about to be met with a rejection, but he quickly glanced away, facing Lord Borros.

“Lord Borros...” Luke started. “I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen.”

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros drawled, his tone less warm. “Which is it? King, or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.”

Lord Borros chuckled in amusement and you could tell Luke was nervous by the way he was shifting on his feet. Aemond seemed to enjoy all of it.

“What’s your mother’s message?”

Luke held out the parchment roll and the a knight fetched it, bringing it to Lord Borros, which he readily accepted, asking for the maester. As the maester quietly recounted the content of the message to Lord Borros, Luke glanced to you and Aemond numerous times, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your eyebrows creased, but the corners of Aemond’s mouth tugged up.

“Remind me of my father’s oath?” Lord Borros spoke, the message seemingly upsetting him greatly. “King Aegon at least came with an offer: My swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids… Which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?”

Luke hesitated. You pressed your lips together; he had probably expected less of a hostile welcoming. Lord Borros only scoffed at Luke’s silence.

“Go home, pup,” he sneered. “Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Luke inclined his head, disappointed at the rejection.

“I shall take your answer to the Queen; my Lord.”

Luke turned to leave, but Aemond stepped forward, calling out to him.

“Wait, my Lord Strong.”

You glanced at Aemond, letting out a soft breath, nerves pooling in your stomach. Luke turned, despite the blatant insult.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

Your hand reached out to grasp Aemond, but he slipped out of your grips as he stepped closer to his nephew.

“I will not fight you. I came as messenger, not a warrior.”

“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond said. “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

He took off his eyepatch and you pressed your lips together, eyes darting between uncle and nephew, knowing this was about to escalate terribly.

“As payment for mine. One will serve,” Aemond added, throwing a dagger in Luke’s direction. “I would not blind you.”

Luke stared at Aemond in shock, his lips parted.

“Plan to make it a gift of it to my mother.”

Luke’s eyes dropped to the dagger on the floor, before he lifted his head. “No.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

“Not here,” Lord Borros said, but no one paid him any attention.

“Give me your eye!” Aemond yelled, descending upon Luke, grabbing the dagger from the floor, while Luke stepped back, reaching for his sword. “Or I will take it, bastard.”

“Aemond!” you shouted, panic evident in your voice.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros cut in, his voice raised and Aemond stopped, turning back to look at him. “The boy came as an envoy. I’ll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Luke resheathed his sword, throwing one last look at you before he turned, hurrying out of the hall. Aemond let out a huff of frustration, throwing a dirty look at Lord Borros, exiting the hall without waiting for you.

“Aemond, wait,” you called after him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re not thinking about following him on Vhagar in this horrible storm, are you?”

“He cannot get away with it, not again.”

Aemond’s voice was angry and you let out a breath, trying to keep a clear head.

“This is a thing from the past!” you reminded him. “Did you not gain a dragon from it?”

“You were not present when he took my eye!” Aemond hissed, taking a turn before you had reached the courtyard, just in time to see Luke on Arrax, flying out of Storm’s End. It was raining so heavily, you could barely see him, dark rain clouds swallowing Arrax and his rider easily.

Aemond was already walking towards Vhagar, the rain soaking, as you stayed put under the roof, hesitant.

“Are you coming, or staying?” Aemond shouted, climbing on top of Vhagar. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, something that Vhagar no doubtedly was feeling as well with the way she was growling and you wanted him to stay, calm down, but you knew it was no use, so you exhaled deeply, lowering your head.

“I am coming.”

You took his outstretched hand and he pulled you into the saddle behind him; you had barely settled in before Vhagar already leapt up in the sky.

The rain felt like small icy daggers in your face as you ascended higher and higher to the sky, easily catching up to the smaller dragon carrying Luke. Vhagar let out a roar, snapping her jaws at Arrax, as the smaller dragon breathed fire in your direction. It was clear that Arrax was no match for Vhagar.

“Aemond stop!”

Your voice barely carried over the rain, but Aemond disregarded you, his Vhagar as she darted to the left. You tightened your hold on Aemond, nerves coursing through you.

“What is it you’re trying to achieve, Aemond? You yelled, shaking him. “Are you trying to kill him?”

“That boy needs to learn how to fear me,” he only replied, tightening his reins on Vhagar, the distance between you and Arrax growing.

Aemond let out a frustrated growl, urging Vhagar to fly faster and you could feel the adrenaline rising as you almost caught up to Arrax again. You knew you were at a cross roads, and what would happen next would change everything, with Aemond consumed by his anger, and Vhagar following his emotions, someone was bound to get hurt. You had to do something. So as Vhagar descended upon Arrax, her jaws opening, you let go of Aemond, leaping off of Vhagar, almost immediately regretting it as Aemond yelled out your name, before you landed on Arrax, the wind being knocked out of your chest.

The young dragon let out a screech, dropping several feet down with the sudden added weight, just barely escaping Vhagar’s jaws.

“What are you doing?!” Luke screamed, the rain pelting against his face as he held onto his saddle tightly, Arrax roaring.

“Saving your life!”

You scrambled to find anything to hold onto, trying not to fall a gruesome death, your hands gripping onto Luke’s shoulders.

Vhagar’s shadow disappeared, but you knew her and Aemond were lurking inbetween the stormy clouds, you had to act fast. Your eyes were straining against the heavy rain, hand gripping into Luke’s shoulders.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly, no!”

You grumbled, knowing his feelings were warranted, but this was not the time.

“We’re vulnerable. We need to find a spot to lay low, where Vhagar cannot come in.”

“Arrax is faster, I just need to get back home. It’s not that far!” Luke yelled back and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t even see you.

“That’s what Aemond is counting on! Please Luke, I know you don’t trust me, but I am trying to keep both of us alive.”

Luke groaned in frustration before tightening his reins on Arrax.

“Ilagon, Arrax!” Luke instructed. “Īlon jorrāelagon naejot jurnegon syt ruaragon.” Down, Arrax. We need to search for cover.

Arrax roared before you dropped several feet, flying by a range of mountains. You squinted your eyes trying to see anything in the rain, when you saw a cave several feet down.

The opening was small, too small for Vhagar to get in, but large enough for Arrax.

“Luke,” you said, squeezing his shoulder and pointing to the cave. “Down there.”

Luke nodded, leaning down to guide Arrax into the cave, and soon enough, the both of you were back on solid ground.

Arrax whined and Luke whispered to him gently, stroking his snout. “Lykiri, Arrax,” he said, leaning his head against his dragon’s. “Īlon jāhor jikagon lenton aderī, syt sir, ziry iksos daor ȳgha. Lykiri, issa valonqar.” Calm down, Arrax. We will go home soon, for now, it’s not safe. Calm down, my boy.

Arrax let out a soft whine, before curling in on himself, letting out a puff of smoke. With slumped shoulders, Luke sat down against the cave wall. You took off your cloak, laying it down so it could dry off before you sat down next to Luke, even as the boy avoided eye contact with you.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence with the occasional huff of Arrax, listening to the storm raging on outside. You hoped Aemond would cease his need for revenge soon. As a particularly loud thunder sounded, Luke jumped and you glanced at him, your heart aching.

“Are you well?”

Luke glanced over to you, trying to hide his tense shoulder by tightening his wet cloak around himself.

“No. But I’m unharmed,” he replied, his lips unmistakably shivering.

“It is better when you take off wet clothes, otherwise it might make you sick,” you said, leaning over to him to help unfasten his cloak, but Luke flinched away at your touch and your hands froze midair.

“I am sorry,” you said, breath bated. He must still be shaken, after seeing The Stranger right in the eyes. Luke let out a small breath, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his cloak.

“Did you know my uncle came to Storm’s End to kill me?” Luke asked, his voice small. “Did you come to make me lower my guards?”

“Forgive me?”

You knew their family affairs were difficult, strained from what had happened in the past, but you were stunned that he would expect this from Aemond, or you.

“I cannot speak of Aemond’s intentions,” you said truthfully. “Only of mine. I never wanted to harm you, and I did my best to keep you safe as soon as I realized that Aemond was too blinded by his need for revenge…”

Luke sniffed, wiping his cheeks and you moved to sit down in front of him.

“I’m only here to help you,” you assured him, holding your hands up in defense. “Arrax would turn me to ashes if I even touch you the wrong way, right?”

Arrax let out a soft growl at that and Luke gave you a small smile, nodding.

“Yes he would.”

“See, you’re in no danger,” you told him, your hand slowly reaching for his cloak, careful, as to not spook him. “Now take off your cloak and lay it down, it will dry off faster this way.”

Luke nodded, unfastening his cloak and laying it down next to yours before he took a seat beside you. Even though he had grown considerably in the years you had not seen him, he still was the little cheeky boy you remembered from before you had left King’s Landing.

“You have grown into a fine young Prince,” you told him. “I almost did not recognize you when you walked into Lord Borros’ hall.”

Luke quirked a smile at you, ducking his head. “I’m almost as tall as Jace now. He despises it.”

You grinned, pulling your legs close. You could imagine Jace just all too well, squinting at the mirror standing next to Luke.

“How is Jace?” you asked, your chest tight. You couldn’t believe how it was mere moon’s turns ago where you were exchanging letters, wondering why his replies seemed to become rarer.

Luke let out a small sigh, like it was a question that plagued him.

“Jace is… Angry. Ever since my uncle usurped the throne he has been trying to take action, fight for my mother’s claim.”

Your forehead creased.

Usurp?

“Pardon… Are you saying Aegon is not the rightful heir to King Viserys?”

Luke stared at you, mouth agape. “… Yes. He stole my mother’s inheritance.”

You only blinked at him, letting the news sink in as you leaned back against the wall, stumped.

“Now everything is falling into place… Why Aemond was questioning my loyalties, Rhaenys! Gods!” You covered your face with your hands, a gasp escaping your lips. “Daeron. I’ve left Daeron at King’s Landing without telling him that I’ve gone.”

You didn’t want to imagine what story Aemond has spun to make you a villain, to draw Daeron on his side.

“I’m sure all will be well,” Luke assured you, patting your hand consolingly. You only nodded, even though you were making up the worst scenarios in your head. Luke gave you a small smile, turning his hand when a yawn overtook him; Arrax had long curled up, his snores filling the cave.

“You should get some rest,” you told him, glancing over to the entrance of the cave where it was still pouring rain. “It might be a while before the rain ceases. I will wake you, when it is safe to leave.”

Luke semed hesitant, but then gave in, settling back against the wall, closing his eyes. As he slept, you noticed how he looked even younger, too young to be thrust into a war like this. Was this the fate that would meet Daeron, Helaena or even Joffrey? The thought unsettled you.

Time passed for a while, and it seemed like the clouds would never pass, but surely enough, the rain lessened, before stopping completely.

Gently, you shook Luke awake, feeling bad for waking him, but you knew he’d want to go home as soon as possible.

“Luke, the rain has stopped,” you told him, waiting for him to blink at you sleepily before you got to your feet, collecting your cloaks off of the ground. You handed Luke his cloak, fastening your own around your shoulders.

“It should be safe now. Aemond must be long gone.”

Luke nodded, glancing at Arrax and then back at you, hesitating, and you knew what he was thinking. You had been thinking it ever since you got to the cave.

“It is alright, Luke. Arrax is too small to carry us both all the way to Dragonstone. Go.”

You tried to be brave, giving Luke a smile but your voice was shaking, whether it was from fear or cold, you weren’t sure. You were a high born lady, you were in no way capable of fending for yourself. Luke leaving you here would mean a certain death, but he didn’t need to know that. Luke looked at you with big eyes, saying nothing before he walked over to Arrax, whispering to him as he stroked his dragon’s neck gently.

You let out a small breath, taking another look around the cave, resigning yourself to your fate when Luke called your name.

“Come, we need to leave before the weather turns again.”

“Luke, no,” you argued but Luke shook his head.

“You saved me. I am not leaving you behind. I would never forgive myself, and neither would Jace,” Luke said, and you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Arrax can carry us both, it is not much longer until Dragonstone.”

You ducked your head, a smile on your lips. Rhaenyra really raised amazing children.

“Very well.”

The two of you squeezed into the saddle on top of Arrax, who let out a small huff as he walked to the entrance of the cave.

“Mēre mōrī kipagon gō īlon issi lenton, issa valonquar,” Luke said to Arrax, gently caressing his neck. “Soves.” One more flight until we’re home, my boy.

Arrax leapt into the air, letting out a screech before stretching his wings, making his way home. As you flew through the skies, your eyes darted around constantly, looking for any sign of Vhagar, but it seemed like the coast was clear. Soon enough, you could see the outline of Dragonstone, and just in time; as you had noticed Arrax growing tired the more you lost on altitude.

“Īlon issi bē konīr, Arrax. Sepār mirrī tolī.” We are almost there, Arrax. Just a bit more.

Luke’s voice was gentle as he spoke to Arrax, despite his nerves. You nearly sighed in relief when Arrax flew towards the small opening to the dragon mount, and you thanked all the Gods when both you and Luke climbed off of Arrax onto solid ground again.

“Prince Lucerys!”

A knight came hurrying into the dragon pit, his eyes flickering to you before turning his attention back to Luke.

“Her Grace has been awaiting your arrival.”

Luke nodded, watching Arrax climb into the depths of the cave to get some much needed rest before he turned to the knight. “Take us to my mother.”

The knight bowed, leading you and Luke into the Keep, stopping in the doorway. Rhaenyra was pacing in front of the fire, her face worried. You hadn’t seen her for so long, but she looked almost exactly the same.

“Prince Lucerys, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra ceased her pacing, looking up and the relief was obvious on her face as she ran toward her son.

“Luke!”

“Mother!”

Rhaenyra threw her arms around her son, embracing him tightly and your breath stocked in your throat as you stayed back. You couldn’t believe how everything could have played out so differently if you had not intervened.

Rhaenyra pulled away, cupping Lucerys’ face with her hands.

“What happened?”

“Aemond and Vhagar were already at Storm’s End when I arrived. Lord Borros refused to stand by his oath… When I left Aemond followed me on Vhagar; if she hadn’t intervened…”

Lucerys paused and Rhaenyra glanced over to you; you, who had stayed behind to give them privacy.

You bowed your head, mostly out of respect but also because you had no idea what to do.

“You’re Helaena’s lady in waiting,” Rhaenyra said.

“I was. I have spent my last eight name days in Oldtown with Daeron.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small, grateful smile, but before either of you could continue your talks, shouts interrupted you.

“Mother! Luke!”

You turned around just to see Jace storming into the hall, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your heart stopped in your chest as you saw him again for the first time in so many years, relief washing over his face as he saw his brother stand with his mother unharmed. Then his eyes laid on you, and you gave him a shy smile. Jace only blinked at you, eyeing you from head to toe before his eyes widened; and for a second, you thought he’d be happy to see you. Instead, his forehead creased and his mouth curled downwards.

“What are you doing here?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: omg the drama...what are we thinking??

[vxsellie]

UHH IM THER PERSON WHO ASKED FOR FIREFIGHTER!ElLLIE HEADCANONS AND TBH IDRM😇

synopsis. more aflame headcannons bc anon sent a second ask saying they actually want it to be specific LMAO

notes. when i tell you my inbox is flooded with questions about aflame / whether there will be a part two / etc etc etc, i mean it's FLOODED. ive said no to a part two, but i decided doing this for u guys might settle u down & put a rest to the millions of asks i get daily on that fic also! i already posted a small thing about ellie & the reader's life together following the story, but i will be repeating things from that post

warnings. mentions of grief (unnamed character dw), discussion of infant death (also unnamed but still a bit heavy), eventual sex (not necessarily smut but enough that i feel i should put a warning)

𐙚 after everything, you ended up staying with ellie for about a month

𐙚 okay so you obviously ended up staying with her & lived happily ever after

𐙚 but lets yap about the slow burn era that inevitably took place beforehand shall we

𐙚 first of all! for the first two weeks, she gave you her room and insisted on sleeping on the couch. you, of course, felt horribly guilty. but ellie was set on giving you the good option & she's quite the force to be reckoned with when she's arguing.

𐙚 so you eventually just gave in and slept in her bed.

𐙚 it was warm and clean and smelled like her. you loved it. the only thing it was missing, however, was her.

𐙚 to make matters worse, you knew ellie was only a short distance from you & yet it felt like you were eons apart. you felt the empty space in her bed like a hole in the earth, always hard to face whilst simultaneously always begging for your attention.

𐙚 understandably, these two weeks spent in separate sleeping quarters was nigh unbearable for you. but you felt out of place to bring it up. i mean, you'd only known her for a short amount of time. who were you to tell her to change the layout she'd si graciously designed for you?

𐙚 you spent the nights yearning for a woman whose touch you'd barely known, cold despite the heavy blankets atop you.

𐙚 but the days were amazing.

𐙚 you'd developed the habit of cooking breakfast after making it that first morning as a thanks for her hospitality. but after seeing the bright look on her face, you'd instantly decided you wanted to make her breakfast every day for the rest of your life.

𐙚 then, following breakfast, you'd get ready in the small bathroom. the first few days, you bumped into one another an immeasurable number of times, ellie apologizing over & over for the lack of space. but you loved it. it felt more intimate, seeing her rush while brushing her teeth because she'd woken up late. it felt like a life you could get used to. one with her.

𐙚 ellie continued to go to work, throwing on her uniform that you tried your hardest not to swoon over seeing her in. that thin black tank top she wears without a bra? fuck you had to force yourself to look away when she stretched her arms up to brush her hair.

𐙚 when she was gone, you spent your time looking for a new place to stay, lazing about the couch with the tv playing low in the background.

𐙚 oh and also! your fucking boss fired you. despite having worked at that stupid grocer for a year now, he didn't hesitate to fire you after missing a few days. you'd even told him that your apartment burned down. he was insistent that punctuality was key. god you hated him.

𐙚 though, your hatred dulled in comparison to the pure rage ellie felt when you told her the news. she was absolutely appalled that someone could be so inhumane as to not give a damn that your home was now a pile of ash on some pavement. she begged you for his number, promising not to say anything bad. but you knew her better than that. you knew she'd call him insults that'd destroy his elderly pea brain. so, apologetically, you refused her his phone number.

𐙚 so, while ellie was away, you also browsed your laptop for open job opportunities near you.

𐙚 ellie said that she could talk miller into hiring you, but you weren't so sure the life of firefighting was for you. plus, you liked seeing ellie in her uniform without having to experience the obligations that come with it.

𐙚 when ellie got home from work every day, she'd be sweaty and gross and exhausted. she'd formed the habit of flopping down on the couch as soon as she gets home, but you've managed to rid her of that once you saw the grimy muck she'd left on the cushions. she's now learned to shower and change before getting on any furniture. honestly, she seems to like that habit more anyway. she refuses to admit it, but you can tell she enjoys the warm water relaxing her muscles and washing away her fatigue.

𐙚 amber also loved it there, alternating between cuddling up with you in ellie's bed or snuggling at ellie's feet on the couch.

𐙚 well, until the day you guys decided to sleep in the same bed.

𐙚 she had come home after a particularly taxing day at work — the first rescue she'd carried out since saving you. it was a single mother and two twin infants. one of the twins didn't make it, sending the mother into a grief ridden spiral. she was sobbing and angry and needed someone to blame. she ended up blaming ellie, the woman whose name she didn't even know. it was horrible. not that ellie could blame her for it. grief comes in every shape and form, and for this woman she just so happened to take the sharp end of the sword.

𐙚 ellie, being who she was, stayed relatively composed during the event itself. the woman banged on her chest as she wailed, shouting that she should have done more and she would have preferred to have burned.

𐙚 eventually, one of Ellie's coworkers dragged the woman away from her and ellie was excused to go home early.

𐙚 when she got back, she was absolutely distraught.

𐙚 you had just made a new recipe and were waiting in the kitchen for ellie to return with a bright grin on your face. but the moment she walked through the door, your smile shattered.

𐙚 her uniform was scorched and torn, her face lined with filth. and, oh, her expression was heart wrenching. her lips were parted, eyes blank as they stared at the floor. she trudged into the living space, shoulders trembling ever so slightly, and flopped down onto the sofa in a manner you hadn't seen her do in quite some time.

𐙚 you were quick to rush to her side, crouching down beside her as you asked what happened. in a shaky voice, she explained that she'd gotten a baby killed. the pure regret and guilt in her tone made your heart crumble a little in your chest.

𐙚 you moved to sit on the edge of the couch, pulling ellie into your arms as you held her. the feel of your body against hers was all it took for her to break down into tears.

𐙚 she tried her hardest to remain dignified, tears falling silently. but when you began to run your hands through her hair and mutter sweet words of consolations, her cries were less orderly as she clung to you and repeated over & over how it was all her fault.

𐙚 for the rest of that night, she was unable to leave your side. she made you sit on the toilet while she showered. then she made you stay in the bathroom while she changed (you turned around). then you two ate dinner together on the couch while watching a funny adult cartoon to cheer her up, your legs touching at all times.

𐙚 so, when it came time for bed, you'd have been cruel not to offer her the empty space beside you.

𐙚 to say she was excited would be an understatement.

𐙚 you guys laid in silence for a bit, comfortable in the company of the other. but then she spoke into the darkness, her tone thick with the weight of all she'd bore that day. she explained everything in more detail, telling you the story without the bias of her guilt.

𐙚 her voice cracked when she got to the boy's death, her voice pitching higher as she fought a second wave of tears.

𐙚 you shifted toward her, sheets rustling in the darkness. you felt around for her, hand eventually finding her body. you pulled her into a warm embrace, holding all of her vulnerability and grief in your two arms as she relaxed into you, melting against the foreign gentility.

𐙚 after that night, you guys started sharing the bed.

𐙚 amber loved it, of course. both her people in one space? absolute heaven for the elderly cat. some nights, she would curl up in the crook behind your knees & other times she'd find comfort atop ellie's face, causing her to wake coughing and hacking up balls of fur.

𐙚 your guys life was one of (much deserved) bliss and domestic comfort after a long period of difficulty.

𐙚 you had yet to do anything actually romantic. but sharing the home felt just as intimate as kissing would have been. though, you ought to admit, you definitely had your fair share of fantasies when it came to that.

𐙚 anyway!

𐙚 and all the while, you sought out a new place to stay

𐙚 you didn't want to move out of ellie's tiny cottage of a home, but you'd have felt horrible asking her to stay permanently when your relationship wasn't even a solidified thing just yet. and so, you searched the internet for worthy places to house you.

𐙚 ellie avoided the topic of you finding a new home, changing the subject whenever it came up & trying to distract you with something else whenever she saw you were looking at houses. you caught on to this, of course. but frankly, you found it endearing and just let it be. you didn't want to draw attention to her blatant distaste for you leaving, for fear that it'd embarrass her. so you feigned oblivion.

𐙚 ellie went with you to every open-house, claiming she just wanted to watch out for creepy realtors. however, whenever you seemed to genuinely like a house, ellie would find something to complain about to make you no longer want to buy it

𐙚 at first, you let it slide because you knew the two of you were beginning to form some kind of bond.

𐙚 but you eventually had to butt in when you spotted her paying off a realtor when they'd both thought you were checking out a different room. she apologized endlessly for it, but never gave an explanation until you practically forced it out of her, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

𐙚 that's when it all unraveled.

𐙚 on the property of some random shabby house in an impoverished neighborhood, in a kitchen composed of rotted wood cabinets and peeling wallpaper and chipped floor tiles, ellie confessed her feelings for you. and it couldn't have been more perfect.

𐙚 the realtor had obviously left the scene beforehand, fleeing from shock when you'd walked in on him accepting a wad of cash from ellie.

𐙚 and there you stood, in the hollow house, her words of adorations echoing off the walls. her eyes were everywhere but your face, avoiding making eye contact with you. eventually, you'd grown sick of her rambling and just grabbed her by the cheeks and kissed her.

𐙚 it was a quick peck. a small pressing of lips, just to test the waters and silence her uncertainty. when you pulled back, her face still between your hands, her pupils were blown and her jaw was slackened. you laughed at her, a chuckle rumbling your chest.

𐙚 she gasps, offended by your judgement. but you couldn't stop laughing. she eventually reconnected your mouths, her turn to silence you.

𐙚 this kiss was far more passionate, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her tongue slid across your lower lip. you opened your mouth to allow her entry & she took it vehemently, tongue exploring the warmth of your mouth.

𐙚 from then on, you guys were inseparable in a whole new fashion. the moment you'd gotten home that day, she dragged your straight to the bedroom and memorized the curves and dips of your body with her tongue, giving so much care to your being that you were sure she'd eventually run out of love to give.

𐙚 your hands gripped the tufts of her hair as she buried her face between your legs and continued her memorization down there, your head thrown back in pleasure.

𐙚 you'd eventually lost count of how many rounds the two of you went, a thick layer of sweat clinging to your skin as she shyly asked if you had anything left in you. and of course, you could never deny her anything. you giggled before rolling over to tackle her to the bed, eyes full of nothing short of love.

𐙚 you two only stopped when pounding could be heard on the door.

𐙚 ellie rushed to pull her clothes back on as you did the same, her voice shouting at the visitor to just wait a damn second. though, when she opened the door, it was agnes.

𐙚 she pushed past ellie and went straight to you, though you were still pulling a shirt over your head.

𐙚 she beckoned the two of you to the living room, you and ellie both flushed and out of breath as you sat down across from her. every time you two made eye contact, you had to look away before you hopped right across that table and fucked her again.

𐙚 agnes made small talk for a little bit, asking you about work & whether you'd found another place to stay. though, when you shyly explained that you were planning to live with ellie, she scoffed loudly and said,

𐙚 "oh, finally! i was waiting for one of you to tell me. i'm not a fool, dear, i can tell you've been fucking like rabbits. just didn't know i'd have to force it outta you."

𐙚 from there on out, it was no longer awkward. she was herself again, making suggestive comments to you and passive aggressive ones to ellie. and when amber came up to her for cuddles, she stayed for another two hours just holding the cat.

𐙚 needless to say, you and ellie managed quite well. you have yourself the most perfect life you could ask for and all the family you could need (even if it's just agnes barging in on you guys whenever she pleases). honestly, you couldn't ask for anything else.

[hoseoksluna]

ICHOR | jjk

pairing: idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after a bad day at work, you lose a sense of yourself and jungkook leads you right back to her.

warnings: crying, capitalism, death metaphors, sadness, jungkook is sweaty and is wearing that nike shirt he wore in his working out live, has fluffy hair!

note: hiii, bubbas, so this is fluff fic is partly for @frmisnow bc she inspired me to write this & i also want to make her feel better with this sacchariny-sweet jungkook, partly for me bc i genuinely wrote in detail about what i went through at work these past two days. and, also, for all you guys because i made you go through reading about such evil jungkook in my last berries fic. i hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. here's to a bit of happiness in our lives *cheers with an imaginary glass of imaginary pink, glittery, strong, fairy alcohol*. <3

You used to be a goddess, the ichor in your veins carried the color of roses, glinted with flecks of gold that would radiate your skin from beneath, make any heads turn, especially the one you loved the most. Customers at work smiled upon seeing your cordial aura, close-knit even though they were mere strangers, preferred to go to you amidst the flock of your other colleagues around. They would become radiated just the same, joy so terribly evident on their faces as their smile would grow. They would frown upon seeing the state of you at this current moment—curled up on your bed while the heat of the beginning of the summer clings to your near bareness, coming through your wide opened windows, the white, translucent curtains billowing up and down in their strange, but magnolious dance. 

You’re not Aphrodite. You’re not Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy and mirth, either. 

You’re the slain fawn at their feet—for their very own feast and for the feast of those aforementioned customers, who stand behind the dryly bloodied cause of your death. 

Work was hell, to say the least. 

You always thought death was a kind embrace, not a tight clasp of doom around the nape of your neck, your mental strain and disquietude the half moon marks that ever so slowly deepen. You mimic the movement on the hem of the linen shirt you wore for the day, one that you were too drowsy to take off when you arrived at home, having only a slight wisp of an energy to rid yourself of the uncomfortable tightness of your jeans and crawl onto your bed, knees to chest, on your side. You bunch up the fabric in your fist, wrinkling it, but you hardly vanquish the cuts that your anxiety slashes on your skin. You thought it would alleviate you of your tenseness, but as it seems—it only worsened it. 

You don’t even have tears to shed. Wept them all out in your manager’s office while she harshly, yet calmly reprimanded you for your mistake and the gravity of the fact that you almost lost your precious job, that you can’t imagine living without, washed over you and pained you like a splash of salty water in your eyes. Wept them all out when you breathed in the crooked, paralyzed expression of disappointment in her face—and that’s the sole thing that emptied out your system of that ichor, wiped out your reputation of being a good, reliable employee that everybody liked. 

Now the next unfolding of your days spent at work shall be filled with silent judgements and secretive gossip, the big talk of the entire building—something that will hang by the strands of your hair for every head to turn to until something else comes along. Another topic, another fuck-up. That’s the face of modern capitalism, the absurdity of day-to-day normalcy its features, and you’re so sick, so repulsed to be staring at it every single day of your life that you yearn to not be anymore. 

Death has flattened over you, but has not finished its job. It was Dante who described the process of hell in his Divine Comedy and you hate him for the rotten pulchritude of his mind because you find yourself to be standing in the middle of inferno with no guide—no Virgil, no Beatrice—to hold your hand and lead you through this scalding maze. You’re all alone, your mistake carving the branches of the trees burning down in your hell over your burdened, heavy heart that has been longing for the company of another ever since you walked out of your manager’s office. 

Your face screws as another agonized emotion rises in you. You can’t stand your aloneness, can’t stand your burden—and before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have already tapped on your boyfriend’s name in your history of calls. The screen of your phone is cool against the fever of your cheek and you rub your face harder against your duvet, staining the strawberry pattern with the particular tinge of your makeup, which must have been the color of your ichor. 

You wince, the rings prolonging in your ear, your impatience running thin. 

Then, your heart drops once you hear the broken whisper of your Beatrice, faintly, barely, which causes your heart to spread its longing. Damn iPhones and their bad service. 

“Jungkook?” you call out, nonsense coming through the other end—and you repeat his name until his voice smooths out, relief sinking in like a stone in a pond. 

It turns out you were exchanging each other’s names and the intimacy of it curls the smallest of smiles on your mouth. You miss him; you need him. 

“When are you coming home?” you ask, wishing to descend into the emitting waves of the call, slide through them until you spring to wherever he is, no matter how tired you are—you’re willing to cross the distance. 

You hear him turn on his blinker and your heart almost does it for you. 

“I’m driving home right now. I’ll be there in ten,” he says and your relief expands in your chest, taking a small weight off of your heart. You place your palm against it. 

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Why do you sound so sad?” 

Your mouth curls downwards. “Something happened at work.” 

An inhale of breath. “Screw that, baby. I’ll be there in five, okay?” 

A whimper. “Okay, drive safe.” 

And your Beatrice didn’t lie to you. Soon, you hear the banging of the front door closing, the tossing of his keys and the prodding open of your shared bedroom door. The hastened footsteps, hefty on the floating floor, the squeak of the mattress as his knee dips on it and the glide of his hand up your thigh. All before you use the last of your strength to focus your swimming vision on him. 

Hearing him alone helped you take a step further in your inferno. 

And then you can smell him. The scent of sweat clinging to his favorite ivory Nike shirt, interlaced with his natural, poetic scent, creating something divine that blesses you with the strength to place your palm on top of his hand. Your coworkers hugged you earlier, clasped your hands in theirs in reassurement and more than welcome it, you absolutely despised it. Lingered in their affection only because you thought you should let yourself be consoled, for you know they care about you. But his touch… that’s not something you sense your body to want to run away from. On the contrary, it seems to be something that it’s missing. 

You can’t part the stream of your new tears with your other hand. 

You spill, completely. 

Jungkook coos, squeezing the bare flesh of your thigh as turns you onto your back and nudges himself between them, plopping his body on top of yours. And then, he’s kissing the place your undone shirt made for him, trailing his lips up your neck, where he stays, where he conjures a garden of fluttering gardenias, their tender petals tickling you. 

“What did they do to my princess?” he murmurs against your skin, his words muffled but heard clearly by your ears. You sob, your chest shuddering in violent staccatos against his, unable to settle, unable to speak. Jungkook lifts his small head and frowns, his thumb swiping your tears away while the rest of his four fingers cradle your cheek. You lean into the balmy safety of the realm of his palm, gaze fixed on the wrinkle between his brows, mouth letting out puffs of soft, gentle exhales. He kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, the wetness of your other cheek—buries his nose into it, right beside yours, inhaling you, giving you fresh air to breathe in. “Don’t cry. I’m gonna decapitate them.” 

The whisper, the hand that parted the stream. You whimper and he steals the traces of your despondency, pecking the new, smooth surface, planting roses to bloom, its roots bestowing you with the ability of speech. 

Two sentences, two miles further in the inferno. Your burnt down trees are lost in the far distance, swallowed by the fire, yet the forest shows every sign of growing anew the longer Jungkook’s heart beats against your breast. 

He’s so benevolently patient with you, not rushing you with your explanation. It all the more drives you to disclose it to him—and you open your mouth to speak, your fingers following suit, helping you with your words as you drag them through the soft mop of his fluffy hair. 

“I made a mistake yesterday while closing up,” you croak out, licking your lips. Jungkook lifts himself onto his elbows, clutching your shoulders, keeping the close proximity intact. His warm grip is a stability you lean on, one you appreciate with every broken shard in you. “I did it five minutes earlier and somebody came in. I sent them away and they filed a complaint against me. They wrote an email to my manager and I… I almost lost my job.”

The wrinkle between his brows deepens and you thumb it, wishing it away. You don’t want to mar his beautiful face because of your foolishness; you want it to remain that soft ball of light that he always is, but then you realize you’re asking for the impossible. His mouth flattens, pity flashes across his round eyes, which helps you perceive that if he didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t love you—and his love is the air you breathe; his love is the ointment you need for your sadness. 

As if he heard you, he kisses you delicately and you sail—skip the purgatory and land in paradiso, a meadow of wildflowers overlooking a cliff that opens the restfulness of the sea, scattered with windswept petals of those lost blossoms, coloring the surface with pinks, whites and the greens of their leaves. 

“Did your manager yell at you?” Jungkook questions, his lips lifted a millimeter above yours, his thumbs fondling the fabric of your shirt upon your shoulders. 

“No, but she was very strict with me. Told me not to cry—”

His breath wafts over your face when he looks into your eyes, displeased. “She made you cry?” 

You cried because through her words you comprehended the gravity of your mistake and its repercussions, not because she deliberately used them to open the dam of your emotions. It’s precisely why she told you not to cry, giving you a hint of her perpetually nonexistent compassion. And you tell him. 

“No, she didn’t. She was very professional with me and made me realize what I did after I apologized. I cried because I was so scared of losing my job, of disappointing her and shit like that.” 

Jungkook purses his lips, shaking his head, curly strands rippling like the tremor of leaves. “She should’ve dropped it after you apologized. Five minutes is nothing, baby. You did nothing to deserve to be treated like that.” 

Your chest heaves, his love and reassurement sifting sand into your bloodstream, the color of ichor. “I know but… you know,” you trail off, indicating the realm of respect all peers must have for the management that you don’t really want to venture into, not when Jungkook had to deal with it as well in his music company. But unlike you, he broke out of its clutches. It cost him tears, frustration and weight loss, but now he’s a free bird of paradise. You don’t wish to make him remember his cage. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah, baby, I know, which is why I’m telling you that you didn’t deserve that.” 

Your chin quivers, the negative thoughts that wore you down in his absence returning at full speed. “It affects my mental health when I’m bad at my job.” 

Brows rounding upwards, his eyes flick to your chin, a glossy wetness coating them. He pecks it before he gazes into your irises. “But you’re not bad at your job. You just closed a few minutes earlier. You’re amazing at your job. You make people happy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he says, meaning every word with the way he presses each one into your pupils. You feel its magnetism and you take it. “And I’m proud of you. Every day. You work so hard. Come home tired every day. Deal with people who aren’t always nice to you with kindness that I envy. I’m proud of you, you hear me? You didn’t make a mistake. You did good.”

And there it is, the stampede of your bloodstream—Jungkook has seeped the entirety of the sand until he emptied out his hand and your ichor charges forward, its light like a bud flaring open beneath your skin. And you're floating on that sea in paradiso, your braid adorned with the wet petals that swims back and forth to his arm that holds your body steady upon the surface, the names of the Greek goddesses lining every perimeter, sinking within. 

You’ve become them, all over again. 

“Thank you, Ggukie,” you whisper, running your hand through the front bangs of his hair, gripping them. It’s as if you’re holding the petals. “I needed to hear that.” 

He pouts, touched by the love name. “I know. You need to rest now after such an emotionally exhausting day. No more tears, okay?” 

You nod, feeling whole, feeling like you can face tomorrow with more courage. “Okay.” 

You pout, mimicking him, asking for a kiss and he gives it to you in that same delicate manner, plunging the entirety of the summer’s heat, molded by his hands, into you, making it bearable for you. 

Looks at you for a long time, after. Smiling. 

“You know, I didn’t take a shower after the gym for you,” he says, quirking a smile on your face.

You’re intimately acknowledged with the reason why, yet still you ask: “Why’s that?” 

He reciprocates the smile. “I thought you’d help me wash up. My muscles are sore and all. I lifted the double amount of your body weight.” 

You bite your lip. You’re willing to wash every inch of him with your utmost care. You deem he deserves it for enlivening you, but you’d much rather stay here, inhaling that dizzying scent of him. 

“I’ll do that, but let’s stay here for a little while.” 

Jungkook nods, kissing your jaw before he finds a comfortable place on your bosom, listening to the rush of your ichor, the sun rays upon the sea of that paradiso, inching you closer and closer to God. Augments the ending of that Divine Comedy. 

Doesn’t lead you to the final installment of death, but pushes you to life full of that brisk wind, the humming of the sea and the song of swaying wildflowers. 

Holds your hand. 

Doesn’t let go. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist

[shutupineedtothink]

okay a few other notes about ep 5:

OBSESSED with the way that a) Rio was the only one who said the brooms were a good idea and b) she and Agatha INSTANTLY started doing the ritual together, like they’re done this a thousand times before. Amazing choice to show their history yet again without actually saying anything. Show don’t tell baby.

We all love the way Agatha looked at Rio when they were flying, but I also love the moment of pure bliss on her face when she closes her eyes. She loves flying. And she probably hasn’t let herself fly in centuries.

The CGI on the broom flying scene was the exact amount of cheesiness I wanted, A++

Jen has absolutely no patience for Agatha, and I get it, but I have a feeling she’s going to be the first to realize that Agatha is actually telling the truth and forgive her. I’m assuming this will happen whenever the truth is revealed about Nicky.

They all heard the “Stop, mama” not just Agatha. Also confirmed that was a CHILD not a baby, double yikes.

I can’t BELIEVE this episode was basically 30 minutes flat what a RIDE

Okay FINE he’s Billy I’m jumping on the bandwagon now jeez

I didn’t point this out but somebody said Agatha confirmed he was Billy once he said Nicky’s name out loud bc otherwise the sigil would have prevented it and THAT’S SO GENIUS OMG also maybe it was the final nail in the coffin to get her to lash out at him bc she still wanted him to be Nicky

Rio hung back to kick that ghost’s ass you can’t convince me otherwise - “I hate ghosts” yeah I bet you do.

The way she started laughing when the ouija board spelled DEATH I can’t

“Sweetheart you okay?” And “Woah! Where’s she goin, what’s she doin” are easily top lines of the ep

Catch me psychologically analyzing this shit for DAYS

How am I supposed to sleep now???

[ro-is-struggling]

In Sickness And In Health || Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: You're terrified that your boyfriend Clark —the local superhero and most perfect man on the planet— will see you sick, so you forbid him to visit you while you have a cold. However, when he shows up at your door saying he misses you, he proves that your insecurities were unwarranted.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader being a little insecure, hurt/comfort kinda, my shitty titles (I tried my best :c )

English is not my first language

Word count: 2200

Notes: I wrote this for me while I was recovering from a cold that had me in bed feeling miserable for days. I was a mess and I felt ugly so I wrote this silly little thing to cheer me up as I continued to descend into the Henry Cavill filmography rabbit hole lol I decided to share it bc why not? Hope you guys like it c:

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

You hated being sick. You hated feeling weak and tired all day, spending hours in bed surrounded by used tissues. You hated that your throat felt scratchy and that your stuffy nose made you have to choose between eating and breathing. You hated having your daily routine interrupted by a stupid cold, but most of all you hated not feeling like yourself. 

You were a mess when you got sick, tangled hair tied up in a messy bun and wearing pajamas all day. You usually didn't move from your bed, which resulted in mountains of used tissues piling up on every surface near you. Multiple cups with leftover tea and a packet of crackers decorated the bedside table, being your main source of food for the day. It was an unpleasant sight so you preferred to spend your sick days alone in the quiet of your home where no one could see your red, irritated nose or the filth you were living in. 

You had specifically asked Clark not to come by your house for that very reason. You loved him to death, but you weren't prepared to let him see you in that state. You felt ugly when you were sick, almost unworthy to be in the presence of someone as perfect and magnificent as him. Clark was literally the perfect man, he never got sick or had to deal with colds in the winter or allergies in the spring. It was almost impossible to see him disheveled since he was able to stop a building from collapsing with his bare hands without a single hair on his head moving out of place. You knew he loved you and didn't care what you looked like, but you couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it since he was literally perfect. So, to save yourself trouble and to concentrate your energy on recovering, you asked him not to come see you for a few days.

Clark respected your wishes at first, but after two days without seeing you he couldn't wait. He missed you and didn't understand your insistence on being alone, it wasn't as if he could catch a cold from you. So when he finished his shift at the Daily Planet he headed to your apartment —stopping on the way just to buy some groceries and a bouquet of flowers for you. He didn't text you that he was going to see you, knowing that if he did you would find some excuse or some way to convince him to go home instead. That's why you were surprised to see him there when you peeked through the peephole in the door before opening it.

"Clark, what are you doing here?" You exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He wasn't supposed to be there. "I thought I told you not to come here!"

"I know, but I missed you." He pouted and you had to look away from the peep hole before he managed to convince you to let him in with those hurt puppy dog eyes of his. You missed him too, but you were in no condition to be around anyone, let alone him.

"I brought food, I thought maybe I could cook for you while you rest." Clark insisted when you didn't respond. You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, he sounded so genuinely interested in helping you and taking care of you that it almost broke your heart to have to say no to him.

"I'm not hungry," you lied. "You should go home, Clark."

"Why won't you let me take care of you?" he sighed in frustration. You leaned your forehead against the wood door, debating whether you should tell him the truth. You suddenly felt stupid for having such a specific and probably irrelevant insecurity, but it wasn't like you could control it. 

Despite the fact that you and Clark had been dating for quite a while, you still had a fair amount of 'first times'. You hadn't yet gone on vacation together for example, and he still hadn't met your family —though not by his own choice, he really wanted to. And, among other things, he had never seen you being sick. It was such a silly thing, but you felt ugly and disgusting and all you wanted to do was disappear under the covers and not come out until the cold was cured so no human being would ever have to see you in that state. 

"It's not that I don't want to," you muttered more to yourself than for him to hear, though you knew he could do it because of his powers. You fiddled nervously with the seam of your t-shirt, feeling a little silly for having to talk about this out loud. "It's just that I'm not in the mood to have guests."

"I'm not a guest, I'm your boyfriend."

“Claaark!” You pouted, begging the universe not to make you say out loud what your real problem was. You heard him let out a chuckle from the other side of the door and rolled your eyes, frustrated that he found the situation funny.

"What?" His voice was a perfect mix of confusion and amusement.

"It's just that... I'm not presentable, the house is a mess and I feel ugly. I'd rather you didn't see me like this." 

There was a long silence. Your fingers began to tug at the threads of the seam of the hem of your t-shirt while your teeth nervously nibbled at the skin of your lips, waiting for a response from your boyfriend. The tension grew with every second, time seemed to drag on as the uncertainty of silence ate you up inside. And then you heard a laugh. 

Clark was laughing. 

It wasn't a mocking or evil laugh, more an expression of his own surprise at your revelation. But it still bothered you. "I'm sorry, is this funny to you?"

"Yeah, a little." He replied with a chuckle and you let out a sigh of genuine disbelief. "I mean, you know I can see you through the door, right?" your eyes grew wide at the realization that due to his powers he had been watching you all this time. You turned quickly, facing away from the door as you hid your face in your hands. 

"Clark, stop it right now!" You ordered him and he let out another chuckle. "I mean it!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that I find it a little ridiculous. I mean, you have to know I couldn't care less about how you look. All I want to do is be with you and take care of you, baby." It melted your heart to hear the sincerity in her voice. It wasn't like you didn't know that, but it was nice to hear him say it, to reassure you that his love for you was genuine and pure. 

A part of you was dying to be pampered by him, to lose yourself in the warmth of Clark's strong arms as he held you against his chest, soothing all your aches and pains with his presence alone. It was tempting to think of him pacing around the apartment, making tea and cooking dinner while you rested between the sheets. But the other part of you —-the part that was usually in control of your decisions— hesitated, afraid of shattering some sort of illusion or image Clark had of you. It was silly and it only got sillier every time you thought about it, but you still couldn't bring yourself to open the door for him.

"I know, but still... I'm not ready for you to see me like this. I look hideous."

"You could never look hideous, baby." Clark sighed. His voice sounded closer and clearer, an indicator that he had moved closer to the door.

"You're just saying that because you love me and love has made you stupid and blind."

"Well, yeah, of course I love you. But also, you truly are the most beautiful woman in the world." You smiled to yourself, feeling your insides filling with that comforting warm feeling that you could only describe as the flame of love. Clark always knew just what to say to make all your problems go away. It was one of his best abilities, even if it was under-appreciated when compared to the rest of his powers.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." You lied, knowing full well that his sweet words were slowly softening the hard protective shield you had raised around your heart.

"C'mon, sweetheart! I'm gonna have to see you while you're sick eventually. Or what, once we live together you plan to lock yourself in the bedroom for a week and make me sleep on the couch so I don't see you with a cold? Or maybe I'll have to rent a room in a hotel until you get better? Is that what you want?"

You were silent for a moment as your brain tried to process what he had said, not his ridiculous options for staying apart when you were sick, but the part where he mentioned a future together. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already imagined what your life together would be like for the next forty years. You wanted to wake up next to Clark every morning, share your free time with him and grow old by his side. He was the love of your life, you were sure of that. But what you didn't know was that he was also thinking about your future together. 

"Once we live together?" you repeated in an excited whisper, the smile on your face widening. "You think about that stuff?"

"Of course I do!" he assured you, sounding slightly offended that you thought otherwise. It hadn't been his intention to make it obvious that every night before bed he imagined his life with you, but he wasn't hiding it either. He was shamelessly in love with you so why bother disguising it. "I want everything with you, sweetheart. I love you."

All worries faded from your mind, banished by the echo of Clark's sweet words. Your hands worked quickly over the locks on the door, removing the latch before turning the key to unlock it. He had won, there was no way you could tell him to leave after such a confession of love. All you wanted to do was hug him and lose yourself in the warmth of his body until you melted into one, show him how much you loved him and how important his words were to you. It was more than the expression of a wish or a projection of the future. It was a promise. The promise of love and commitment. He wanted to be with you in sickness and in health, in good times and in hard times. Clark loved you as much as you loved him and that was all you needed to know to feel better.

"You cheated." You joked as you opened the door, stepping aside to let your boyfriend in. He smiled in amusement at your childish pout, letting out a slight chuckle as he set the shopping bag aside to close the door behind him 

"I was just being honest." Clark looked at you with such adoration in his eyes —his blue orbs glowing with the spark of love— that you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Blood rushed to your cheeks, making you feel warm for the first time since you'd caught a cold.

"Stop it!" you whined, hiding your face in his chest as a defense mechanism to cope with how vulnerable you felt. 

You'd never been good at receiving compliments and always felt awkward when someone said something nice about you, unsure how to respond other than with a shy smile. And even though Clark seemed to make it his favorite pastime to give you compliments, it hadn't gotten any better. You still felt silly every time he complimented your outfit before going out to dinner or when he told you how beautiful you looked the next morning when you woke up in his arms. But just because you didn't know how to respond to his beautiful words other than with smiles and incoherent sounds of happiness didn't mean you didn't appreciate them. On the contrary, you loved the comforting warmth that flooded your insides every time he smiled at you, looking at you with pure love in his eyes. It made you feel special in a way that no one ever had before. It reassured you that you were on the correct path to happiness.

"I love you." You mumbled against Clark's chest and felt him tighten his grip on you, trapping you in his strong arms. You let the warmth of his body envelop you, slowly dissipating all your troubles. His simple presence was more powerful than any drug or medicine you could take, effectively making you forget all your problems in a matter of seconds. His hug alone was able to lift your spirits, restoring color and joy to your tired expression. That was the effect he had on you.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Clark whispered against your hair, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. "Now, will you let me take care of you?"

[hannieoftheyear]

Warning Signal (jww) TEASER

Two targets you need to figure out, alongside the one person you most despise, and zero mistakes allowed.

As the lives of your targets get more and more intertwined, and your plan gets more complicated, memories of the past and feelings you thought you could put aside threaten to ruin the mission.

pairing: criminal!wonwoo x criminal!reader

w.c: 915 (for the teaser), full work will be over 20k

release date: tbd

genre: exes to partners in crime to lovers, violence, angst, smut (not in the teaser)

content warnings (for the full work): vague descriptions of what their "job" actually is, criminal acts, stalking, spying, invasion of privacy, use of fake names, fake identities, stealing (both reader and wonwoo do all of the above), mentions of guns, fight scenes, blood, murder, death (not the main characters) | the story will contain flashbacks written in cursive (such as this teaser)

note: this is very different from what i've been posting so far, but i had a dream about a similar story and couldn't get it out of my mind.

on that note, i'm not sure when i'll be able to finish this bc it's taking a lot of time to make sure everything makes sense and for the relationship to be fully fleshed out. it might be done by january (that sounds so weird to say omg)

if anyone wants to be on the taglist, comment this post! (minors or ageless blogs won't be added)

“The bit is over Wonwoo, go home.”

“Let’s just work together, one last time.” His voice reaches closer and closer from behind you until you stop walking and force yourself to face him. 

“Not only do I not need your help, I especially don’t want it.” 

“Look, I’m not asking you to forgive me, just–” He appears to have regretted what he was about to say, and you don’t wait for him to gather his thoughts. 

“Just what? Understand it? We’re way past that don’t you think?” 

“We’re good together,” your brain glitches with astonishment before he corrects himself, “We always worked better when we did these jobs together, you know that.” 

“You have some serious nerve, after last time, the least I should do it rat you out right this second.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, it’s not your style.” 

“To fuck over my partners? No, that’s yours.” 

He's trying to charm his way into your life again, like the past few months could disappear at the flash of a smile, and you'll be damned if you let him.  

“Let’s just see it as a mere trade of information, nothing more.” Neither his voice nor his expression suggests that he’s trying to deceive you, and you hate that you're even considering his offer.  

“And I wouldn’t have to see your face ever again after?” 

“That would be your loss, but sure. One last job and we’d be done.” 

“Are you being serious?” 

It’s hard to trust him. No matter how much he insists it’s his only goal. But it’s true that whatever knowledge he collected on that dude would save you a lot of time and resources, and you have to do this job well to prove yourself to your boss. 

“Dead serious. I promise.” 

A year before… 

The waitress, with purple bags under her eyes and bleach blonde hair tied up in a bun on the edge of falling undone, sighed on the way to tell the same client, for the fourth time in two hours, that it was prohibited to smoke inside the establishment. You saw that man doing countless other illegal things while sitting on that same dark booth the entire night, but the bar drew the line at smoking indoors. 

He huffed at her but ultimately put the cigarette out against the wood table. There were fewer and fewer people the more the time passed, and soon enough, it was going to be too suspicious for you to still be there. You couldn’t be the only customer left in the bar when he left, but the person he was still waiting for was the key to all this, and you couldn’t leave without that information. 

An ‘80s country song started playing on the radio, and the man started tapping his fingers against the table, following the rhythm of the classic. It was almost serene, the way he relaxed at the sound of the familiar tune, but the night started to feel more and more like a waste of time. Whatever the deal was with the person who wasn’t showing up, it was clearly not happening. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” A familiar figure sat in front of you at the secluded booth you kidnapped for the whole night. But the smile that appeared on your face at him quickly dissipated. 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s too empty.” Besides the staff, you and the old man, there were only three people inside the dusty bar at that time, all alone, too drunk and on the brink of leaving. It was almost impossible not to stand out in that crowd. 

“Don’t worry, I called in a few favors.” Just as Wonwoo finished his sentence, a group of at least ten men, talking loudly and in the mood to celebrate something, walked into the tiny bar, disrupting the serenity but providing you with much needed cover. 

“You’re so... resourceful.” Your words mixed with a giggle as the atmosphere changed from calm and musty to a playful bachelor-esque party inside the bar. “How did you know I was here?” 

“I always know where you are, baby.” A chill climbed up your spine at his teasing smile. “And also, I was waiting for a guy to show up here. He’s supposed to be meeting someone.” 

The loud laugh that escaped you almost beat the drunk shouting of the bachelors in volume. It was easy to connect the dots, and it also wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. 

“You know something I don’t?” Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t stray away from the smile on your lips. 

You just giggled as your eyes darted towards the sketchy old man, who was back to smoking, seeing that the staff’s attention was focused on the new customers. You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze stay on you for a second before following yours, and the realization hit him quickly, the years of working together serving their purpose. 

“Yours?” The amusement in his voice made you nod eagerly, sipping on the mocktail that had been sitting untouched on the table for over an hour. “It’s been a while.” 

This job, the thing that you do for a living, got lonely every now and then. Doing everything on your own, not being able to share it with the people closest to you, can take a toll on anyone, no matter how detached they're able to get. So, when you got a chance to work with the one you love, you were for sure gonna take it. 

“I know, it’s gonna be fun.”  

thank you for reading! i love this story and i cant wait to finish it so you all can finally read it!

remember! if you want to join the taglist, comment on this post ♡

[riordanness]

bad blood - [h.haddock]

8.2K wordcount

warnings: death mention, panic attack mentions

requested: no

a/n: i usually don’t do author’s notes on my fics bc i don’t think i have really anything to say lmao. however. i wanted to say a quick word about this one, as it’s a kind of old piece but one i was extremely proud of and worked really hard to complete. i loved the humorous parts i wrote, loved the character arc i gave y/n, and just in general really liked how my writing turned out. also, it’s the second longest one-shot (currently) i’ve ever written! anyways, enjoy my lovelies <3

I disliked Hiccup Haddock more than anything else in the entire world. I didn’t like him at all for a very long time, but… well, here is our story.

“Hey love.” A voice appeared next to my shoulder, and I rolled my eyes.

“Go away, Hiccup,” I demanded, refusing to look at him. I was carving a spear out of a wooden stick, so I kept my focus on my knife running back and forth along the wood.

Even without looking at him, I could tell he had a smirk on his face. “Oh love,” he whined. “I want to talk to you.”

He tugged on one of my small braids that ran down the sides of my hair. I whacked his hand away, still not looking at him. “I said go away,” I said again.

He laughed. “I know.”

“So leave me alone.”

A moment’s pause. “But why?”

“Because I hate you and don’t want you around, annoying me to death. I’m busy.”

“But you’re fun to annoy.”

I turned on him, fiercely glaring up at him. The worst thing about Hiccup was how tall he was compared to me. He wasn’t even that tall, I was just super short. Hiccup was a full head higher than me.

Hiccup had a smirk playing around his mouth. “Hey shortcake.”

I hit him. “Shut up, Hiccup.”

“Aww, c’mon sweetheart. I’m bored.”

“That’s nice.” I crossed my arms protectively. Not that Hiccup would ever actually hurt me. Honestly, if it came down to me being in danger, I was pretty sure he’d defend me. I’d known him longer than anybody else I knew.

I might hate him, but it was the truth. Hiccup was an asshole, but I knew deep down he didn’t absolutely hate me. I guess I didn’t hate him, either. He was just a total pain.

“Go ride Toothless or make a friend or do something. Just leave me alone. I don’t care to see you.”

Hiccup sighed, running a hand through his ruffled brown hair. His green eyes flickered with amusement. “Okay, love. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He winked. “Sorry love.”

I resisted the childish urge to stamp my foot. “Hiccup!”

He held up his hands. “Okay… okay.” I almost thought he might actually be genuine, until he smirked. “I’ll stop calling you love… darling.”

I knew there was no shutting him up. I turned on my heel without a word, and stamped angrily into my cabin, slamming the door behind me.

Three seconds passed, then there was a knock on the door. I opened it. “Hiccup, go away!”

Hiccup stood there, grinning mischievously. “Fine, fine. Bye, you.”

I rolled my eyes and shut the door. I’d only just turned around when another knock sounded. I gritted my teeth. “Stupid little —“

I opened the door again and stopped short. “Oh! Stoick. Um, hi.” I swallowed. “Sorry, I, uh, I thought you were Hiccup.”

Stoick looked amused. “That’s alright, y/n.”

“Um, would you like to come in?” I offered.

Stoick nodded, and stepped inside. I suddenly felt very conscious of how messy the place was. I didn’t spend much time here, preferring to roam outside or stay at Astrid, my best friend’s house.

“How are you faring up?” Stoick asked.

I shrugged. “I’m okay. Still getting used to the fact that they’re gone, but, you know. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Stoick nodded. “If you ever need anything, feel free to let me or Hiccup know.”

I groaned internally. “Yeah, like I’d ever ask him for help,” I muttered.

I hadn’t intended for him to hear, but Stoick chuckled softly. “He doesn’t hate you, you know.”

“Sure,” I said. “Because he thinks I’m fun to annoy.”

“That’s not it.”

I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “O…kay…” I said slowly. “Um. Great. Well, it’s getting late, so if you don’t mind, uh…”

“Oh! Sure, sure,” Stoick said. “Have a good night, y/n.”

A long time after he left, I stood in my empty, cold house, staring at the door, wishing for something to come and fill the hole that was forming inside of me.

“Y/n, did you hear?”

I turned to my best friend. “Um. No. What happened?”

Astrid brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Stoick just told Hiccup he’s going to become chief soon.”

“Cool.” I returned to making the leather straps I’d been softening for my future dragon’s saddle.

See, the thing is, I don’t have a dragon. I know, that’s so weird, everyone in Berk has one, but I’m, well… a dragon killed my parents a few years ago. I’ve never liked them anyways, but after that, I’ve struggled a lot with my feelings about dragons. I’m sure one day I will overcome this fear inside me and own a dragon, but right now? No way.

“That’s all?” Astrid looked offended. “Y/n, that’s so much cooler than cool.” She suddenly laughed. “You know what this means?”

I frowned a little. “No..?”

“Hiccup has to choose a bride.”

I blinked. “Really? Um, so?”

Astrid rolled her eyes, elbowing me as she sat beside me on the ground. “You know you’re in love with him, y/n/n.”

I pretended to gag. “Ugh, as if! Astrid, you know I hate him. I don’t care at all about him in any way, especially not in a romantic way. I don’t care a single little bit if he has to choose a bride.”

“Sure.” Astrid smirked. “You’re secretly hoping he’ll choose you, aren’t you?”

I shot her a glare that warned her to shut up. “He’ll choose you and you know it,” I said.

Astrid wrinkled her nose. “I doubt it,” she said. “Hiccup and I literally never talk. Besides, everybody knows that me and Stormfly are a forever couple.”

I shook my head at her, but I had to smile. “Well, he won’t choose me, and I don’t care about it anyway.”

Astrid looked like she wanted to argue, but she shut her mouth when she noticed someone walking over to us. When I saw who it was, I sighed.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Gee, you’re lovely today, darling,” Hiccup teased, plopping himself down next to us.

“Excuse me,” I pointed out. “We didn’t invite you to sit with us.”

Astrid glanced at me, a smirk playing around her mouth. Her eyes were twinkling. I glared at her. I hate you, I mouthed.

I swung one leg over the log so my back was to Hiccup. “So, Astrid,” I said, a little too loudly. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

“I’m taking Stormfly out for a ride,” Astrid replied. “You’re welcome to join —“

“No,” I said instantly. “Uh, I mean. No thank you. I’m good.” My hands trembled ever so slightly. I coughed, swallowed, and picked up my leather strap, gripping it tightly to stop the shaking.

Hiccup poked his head over my shoulder. “You know—“

I elbowed him in the ribs so hard he tumbled off the log. “Whoa!” he yelped. “Jeez, y/n!”

“Sorry,” I apologised. “I- you startled me.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “No I didn’t. You just like hitting people.”

My mouth tightened. “No I don’t. And stop calling me a liar!”

“When did I call you a liar?” He got to his feet, one arm cradling his ribcage. “You’re violent for literally no reason.”

I glared at him. “You just said I was lying. And I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

Hiccup winced. “Uh- yeah you actually did. I think you broke a rib or something.”

I slammed my work to the ground, getting to my feet and facing the boy. “Stop avoiding the fact that you called me a liar! I never ever ever make up anything.”

My eyes glittered with unwanted tears. Involuntary memories sprang into my mind. My parents hugging me. My father’s voice in my hair, my younger voice begging them to promise to return soon. “Of course we will return, darling,” my father said. “We’ve never lied to you, have we now?”

I blinked, forcing the tears away. I hated crying in any situation, but I wouldn’t be able to stand crying in front of Hiccup. I’d never live it down.

“Whatever.” Hiccup glanced at me. His voice suddenly changed. “Want to see something amazing?”

“Yeah,” I grumbled. “The retreating back of your head would be great, thanks.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I!” I turned away from him, and only then did I realise Astrid was nowhere to be seen. She must’ve snuck away while Hiccup and I were arguing.

Hiccup’s hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. “C’mon,” he pleaded, and his voice sounded genuinely kind. “It’ll be fun.”

I rolled my eyes. “If I come with you, do you promise to leave me alone after?”

Hiccup nodded.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Where are we going?”

He grinned mischievously. “You’ll see.”

Hiccup turned, and I had no choice but to follow; partly because I was curious, and partly because I wanted him to leave me alone, and this was the only way to guarantee that.

We entered the woods that surrounded the village, and I began to get suspicious. “Hiccup?” I asked. “Where exactly are we going?”

He didn’t answer for almost a minute. “You’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes. “First, that’s not a proper answer. Two, don’t you think that you should tell me before you drag me off somewhere?”

He laughed. “C’mon. Don’t you ever do anything adventurous or risky?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I talk to you.”

“Hey!” He shot me a playful glare.

I managed a smirk. “No, but seriously. Where are you taking me?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Okay. Just stay here a moment. I’ll be right back.”

I frowned, and opened my mouth to complain, but before I could say anything, Hiccup had disappeared into the trees. I had no choice but to wait where I was.

Only a few minutes later, I heard a rush of wind, and a midnight-black dragon landed in front of me. Hiccup sat astride Toothless, one hand in the air.

I yelped, taking a few quick steps backward. “I- shoot, Hiccup. Why are you…” My voice died as Toothless stared at me. A shiver ran down my spine, making me feel sick to my stomach.

“Y/n, it’s fine,” Hiccup assured. “He won’t hurt you. Will ya, bud?”

I shook my head, my throat tightening. “I- no. I can’t do this, Hiccup.” I took another step back, my entire body beginning to shake. This. This what had killed my parents. Dragons couldn’t be trusted. No matter how much Hiccup had tried to convince the village, I would never trust anyone, or anything, ever again.

Hiccup frowned. “Fine.” He leaned down and patted Toothless on the neck. “C’mon, bud. Let’s go.”

Without another word, Toothless spread his wings and they soared into the air.

I stood stock still for a whole minute before I realised I was holding my breath. I let it out all in a rush, and staggered a little. I reached out to hold onto a tree truck for support. My legs felt wobbly and unstable.

I decided it was best if I headed back for the village. I didn’t want to hang around in the woods today anymore. I had a sour taste in my mouth, and I needed some water.

I was twenty meters away from my cabin door when suddenly the ground beneath me was swept away. The village got smaller and smaller, and then I realised what was happening.

“Hiccup Haddock!” I shrieked. Toothless was holding onto my forearms, and I was suspended in the air.

“Yes, m’lady?”

“I am going to kill you!” I yelled up at him, panic temporarily pushing aside my utter agony at being defenceless against a dragon.

“Toothless, put her down,” Hiccup commanded.

Toothless flew around a huge pine tree that was significantly taller than most of the forest, and promptly dropped me onto its highest branches.

I clung to the tree truck, shaking. Tears clogged up my throat, and my legs were so trembly I thought I was going to fall and die.

“Y/n.”

At the sound of Hiccup’s voice, I slowly turned to face him. He looked almost sorry, but I knew that was impossible. The little wretch was trying to make me terrified, for what reason I could only guess. This was his biggest prank yet.

“Hiccup,” I said, trying to keep my voice level (and failing), “you will get me down from here, now.” I gripped the tree tighter. “You will take me home this instant, and you will never ever talk to me again. Do you understand?”

He blinked. “But—“

“Do you understand?!” I yelled.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Here.” He held out his hand.

I stared at it for a second, then gingerly reached out and rested my fingertips on his palm. A tingle ran up the length of my arm. He gripped my wrist, and pulled me up onto the dragon behind him.

Every part of my body that was in contact with the dragon’s felt heated up, like I could burst into flames at any moment. My head pounded in sync with my heartbeat, and my palms were getting sweaty. I was, in short, absolutely terrified.

“… let her down slowly.”

I realised Hiccup was talking. “You got that, bud?”

Toothless made an exasperated grunt, sounding more like a sarcastic teenager than a dragon. That didn’t make me feel any better.

Toothless slowly spread his wings, and for a second, I almost relaxed. Maybe he would fly down gently like Hiccup had asked.

The next second, my illusion shattered. Toothless took off so fast I almost toppled off. I was forced to grab onto the nearest thing to stay onboard (on-dragon?). Unfortunately, that thing happened to be Hiccup.

Whatever. I’d rather not die today. I gripped his shoulders so tightly my knuckles turned white. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, as if not seeing would make it better for me.

The wind whipped in my ears, blowing my dark hair all around my face. I was so scared, so worried, so distraught I felt like crying. I couldn’t, though. I wasn’t dumb enough to cry in front of Hiccup. He would never let me hear the end of it.

Suddenly, I felt the dragon beneath me twisting sideways. We started spinning, twirling in tight circles. My grip tightened on Hiccup’s shoulders.

Someone was screaming, and I was like eighty-five percent sure it was me.

“Toothless!” Hiccup yelled. “Stop this right now! You’re scaring her!”

Toothless took that as a challenge, and dove toward the ocean a hundred feet below. He showed absolutely no signs of slowing or stopping in any way. I opened my eyes, wanting to at least be able to see something in case I died because of this.

“Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile,” Hiccup muttered. I slowly began to realise that maybe Hiccup wasn’t the one at fault here. Of course. It was the dragon’s fault. Dragons weren’t to be trusted, which was exactly what I’d been thinking this whole time.

Just as we were about to hit the water, Toothless opened up his wings. We shot upward, soaring towards the sugar-spun clouds above us.

We levelled out, and my muscles lost some of their tension. Toothless floated in the air, almost flying gently now. I remembered how to breathe, and let out a long, breathless sigh.

“Hiccup,” I managed, my voice hoarse. “I am going to murder you.”

I melted into him, partly in relief that I wasn’t dead, partly in exhausted terror. My arms went around his waist, my forehead falling to rest on his back. My eyes fluttered shut, and a lone tear streaked down my cheek.

Hiccup didn’t say anything for a long while, and so neither did I. Toothless flew long and slow and level, giving me the slightest chance of not murdering him, too.

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that. All I remember is Hiccup’s voice saying softly, “Sweet dreams, love,” before I fell into the welcome arms of sleep.

I woke slowly, curled in a ball inside a warm, soft bed that didn’t feel like mine. When I finally opened my eyes, I realised why it didn’t feel familiar. I wasn’t even in my house.

I sat up, looking around, trying to work out where I was. With a start, I couldn’t even think of a time I’d been inside any other houses in the village except for Astrid’s. I had no idea whose house this was.

“Morning, m’lady,” said a deep voice from the top of the stairs.

I groaned internally. “Oh, gosh, of course it’s you.” I found myself pulling my fingers through my hair, brushing it as nearly as I could, straightening my shirt, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

I dragged myself out of the bed. I was still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, my usual top and skirt combo, with leggings underneath for warmth. My boots were lying on the floor, so I yanked them on.

I glanced up at Hiccup, who was hanging over the banisters, watching me. With a jolt, all the memories of yesterday flooded in.

Red-hot anger filled me. I clenched my fists. “Are you gonna come down here, or should I just murder you up there?”

Hiccup’s eyes widened. “I- what?”

“You heard me,” I muttered. My knife was missing from my belt, which was just great. I’d probably lost in on that horrific flight yesterday.

I stomped up the stairs, stopping on the one below the one Hiccup was standing on. He leaned against the banister, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Hey shortcake,” he whispered teasingly. “Sleep well?”

I gritted my teeth. “You are so beyond dead right now, Hiccup.”

He chuckled. “Hey. Blame Toothless, alright? There was nothing I could do!”

I wanted to roll my eyes. “Um, okay. And he’s your dragon.”

“That doesn’t mean I can control him!”

I didn’t answer, my gaze sliding away from Hiccup. I sighed, laid my palm on the cold wood banister. “I don’t ever want you to talk to me again, okay? I don’t want to see you; I don’t want to hear you. I don’t even want to know you exist.”

I felt a glistening tear streak its way down my cheek, dripping off the bottom of my chin. “Just—“ My voice broke. “Just leave me alone.”

I turned, and ran out of the house, leaving his door wide open. I headed for the only place I could think of; the woods.

I didn’t stop running until I was deep in the forest, surrounded by unfamiliar trees. I dropped to my knees in the dirt, buried my face in my hands and cried.

Hours later, I slowly rose to my feet. It was growing steadily dark, and the cold was seeping into my bone. I shivered, and wrapped my arms around myself as I walked around in a small circle.

I realised, horrified, that I was completely lost. I had no idea whatsoever where I was, which direction the village was, or what time of day it even was right now.

I eventually sat down on a rock, pulling my knees up to my chest. The darkness was growing. Soon, I didn’t think I would be able to see a thing. I began to get worried.

Who knew what things might be hiding in the shadows? My hand instinctively went to my belt, my my knife was gone. I cursed under my breath, and stood, pressing my back against a tree. I figured it would be safer than sitting on an exposed rock.

I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, my eyes turning towards the sky, hoping, for some insane reason, that someone might be out there looking for me.

Who was I kidding? Who was there that even cared about me that much? I didn’t have parents who were waiting back at home, wondering how late I was going to stay out. I didn’t have siblings who would notice my absence.

Astrid wouldn’t notice this late at night. I tended to wander during the day; she was used to that, but at night it wouldn’t even occur to her that I was anywhere but home.

Hiccup briefly crossed my mind, but I truly did not think he cared about me that much. I didn’t even want him to. I was still so mad at Hiccup, thinking about him made it hard to breathe. I hated him.

“I hate Hiccup Haddock,” I whispered under my breath, trying to make myself feel better. My breath made a wisp of steam in the cold air. I watched it as it floated into nothingness.

My vision suddenly blurred, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of exhaustion or tears. I slumped down to the ground, my legs giving way. I drew my knees close to my chest, hugging them to me. My chin rested on my knees, gazing out at the woods, though I could barely make out anything anymore. I couldn’t even see my own hand clearly, let alone anything else.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but eventually, I slipped into a deep sleep, half-frozen, chilled to the bone, alone and crying in the darkness.

“Y/n! Y/n? Y/n/n?!”

My eyes fluttered open. I groaned in pain. I felt someone’s arms encircling me, carrying me, but I couldn’t make out anything. Everything was blurred, hazy. The person carrying me was talking, but it sounded far away and watery.

I slumped against the person’s shoulder, closing my eyes. I was tired: so, so tired. Everything ached; my head pounded and throbbed.

I don’t think I feel back asleep, but I wasn’t really aware of anything for a long while. Finally, the person slowed to a walk, and laid me down on a couch or a bed or something. A cup was held to my lips, and I gratefully accepted the water.

I blinked several times, and my eyes focused on a very familiar looking boy, who’s green eyes were staring down at me, full of concern.

“Hiccup?” I asked weakly. “What are you…?”

“I found you in the middle of the woods,” Hiccup replied, his eyes darkening slightly. “Are you okay? Do you need anything else? More water? Are-are you warm enough?”

I laid my head back, rubbing my thumb against my throbbing temple. I let out a long sigh, whether it was of annoyance or exhaustion or pain, I wasn’t sure.

“I hate you so much,” I muttered.

“Gee, thanks,” Hiccup answered. He held the back of his hand against my forehead, testing my temperature. “You don’t seem to be too sick. I think you’re going to be okay,” he said, almost to himself.

“I’m not sick at all,” I said firmly. “I don’t even know why you’re taking care of me. I don’t need you. You—“ My voice suddenly broke with emotion. “You did this to me.”

Hiccup’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Look, Y/n/n—“

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

He blinked. “Y/n. I-I am so sorry for what happened yesterday. I, well, I thought it might make it better if you saw that dragons aren’t always vicious. Um…” He glanced down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Toothless didn’t really get the memo.”

He looked at me. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. And I hope that maybe someday you can find it in you to forgive me.” He stood, brushed off his pants, and left, closing the door gently behind him.

I lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but Hiccup had brought me home. I was in my bed, in my house. I could hear small noises from downstairs, which meant that Hiccup was still here. I wasn’t sure what he was doing down there, but I didn’t really care.

What I cared about right now was what he’d said. And what it had made happen inside of me. Was I really as mad at him as I thought I was? After all, he’d gone out and found me, brought me home, taken care of me. Maybe he’d been trying to be nice, and it really was Toothless who had been doing all those things to me. (Which just proved all my theories that dragons weren’t to be trusted).

I thought again of Hiccup’s eyes staring down at me, his sad voice asking me for forgiveness. The worry in his expression when he asked if I was okay. I hated how much I’d liked that. I hadn’t ever been in love, or even had a crush on anyone. I wasn’t sure if this even was a crush, but if it was, I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like the swirling in my stomach when I heard Hiccup’s voice. I hated how much I suddenly wanted him near me. I disliked how I kind of trusted him. I didn’t want to be in love. I didn’t want to have somebody I believed in again.

Last time I’d loved someone, trusted someone, all they’d done was break my heart and leave me forever. My parents. I wondered if part of my hatred inside was because I’d never truly forgiven them for leaving. For dying and not coming back for me like they’d sworn they would. I blinked back tears, brushing my cheeks with the back of my hand.

I swung my legs out of the bed, standing. I swayed a bit at first, but I forced myself to be steady. I yanked on my boots and slowly pushed open my bedroom door. I stepped out onto the landing, peeping over the edge of the banisters.

Hiccup was down in the kitchen. I was shocked at how much cleaner everything looked. I barely ever tidied up. Not that things got particularly dirty, as I spent little time here, but dust had certainly stocked up over the years. Hiccup had scrubbed away the five years of dirt from my home, and it was sparkling.

Something smelled good, too. It hit me like a brick wall that the fire was going, and Hiccup was cooking something over it. It looked like soup or something similar. I hadn’t had a home cooked meal for ages. I hated cooking, so I just lived on things I grew in the garden, or tidbits from friends.

I shifted slightly, and a floorboard underneath me creaked. Hiccup glanced up, and when he saw me, a slight smile flickered across his face. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I said back, not sure what else to say. I mean, I’d just yelled at him, and made it pretty clear I didn’t ever want to talk to him again. What do you say to someone who’s just cleaned your entire house and taken care of you after you told them that? “What are you making?”

Hiccup glanced down at the pot he was stirring, then back up at me. “Chicken and potato soup. Want some?”

I hesitated, but nodded, with a small shrug. “Why not.” I slowly walked down the stairs, my eyes on Hiccup the whole time. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from him.

He noticed me staring and smiled nervously. “What? Am I in trouble?”

I found myself slowly shaking my head. “No, I don’t think so.” I allowed myself a small, watery smile. “At least not yet.”

Hiccup grinned. “Good. Now sit down and eat.”

I obeyed, setting myself down at the old dining table. I wiped my palm on the wood, expecting it to be coated it dirt, but it shone with new cleanliness. My eyes suddenly filled with tears.

“Hiccup…” was all I could manage.

Immediately, Hiccup knelt in front of me. “What’s wrong?” he asked, almost urgently, staring up into my eyes. “Are you alright?”

I swallowed. “You-you cleaned the house… you’re cooking… I- you…” I let out a broken sob.

For so long, so one had cared. Astrid cared the most, but she was busy with Stormfly and her new baby brother and life in general. She’d offered a few times to have me stay with her and her family, but I’d known that would be far too hard for them. I’d always politely told her I was just fine on my own, thank you. But I wasn’t. I knew that. I needed someone to care so badly that now that someone did, someone cared, it almost hurt.

“Hey, hey,” Hiccup said softly, grabbing me by the shoulders. I realised I was shaking.

“It’s alright,” he assured me. “Come here.” He brought me into a hug, which at first both startled and scared me, but then I melted into it. The hug felt unfamiliar, different, awkward. But nice, somehow.

But this was Hiccup. I untangled myself from him. “Uh,” I stammered, tucking my hair behind my ear, eyes flitting away. “Thanks.”

Hiccup shrugged. “It’s fine.” He stood slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yes. I mean, no. I-I guess? I’m not sure…” I stared up at him. “Hiccup, why are you doing this?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean?” He gestured around. “You needed help. You need help. I am the son of the chief; soon to be the chief myself. It’s my job to help the village.”

Something inside me wilted a little. So this was just part of the job to him? The rest of me internally yelled at that bit to shut up, and that we hated Hiccup, so it doesn’t matter what he does. But why did I hate Hiccup?

Thinking back on it now, I really didn’t think he had ever done anything truly bad towards me. Yeah, sure, he’d been a total tease, but I was a rude, bitter, secluded brat to be honest. I didn’t deserve any help from him.

I blinked back unwanted tears. “Um, well, I really appreciate it,” I said. “It was really nice of you to come looking for me.”

Hiccup studied my face for a moment, then pursed his lips and nodded once. “It’s okay, Y/n/n.”

Something inside me jolted. No one had called me that in years before today, when Hiccup had started to. It was the nickname my father had given me. Hearing Hiccup use it had just opened up a deep wound inside me I hadn’t even remembered.

“Please don’t call me that,” I whispered, staring at the floorboards. My feet hung limply in the air just above the floor.

Hiccup glanced over at me from where he was standing, stirring the soup. “Um, okay. Sorry, Y/n.” He stressed my name, saying it slightly slower than the rest of his words.

There was so much tension in the air, and I realised it was all my fault. I made the room awkward and made Hiccup have to watch everything he said. I was a terrible person.

I’d even told Hiccup never to talk to me again, right after I’d woken up in his house. It hit me that he must’ve taken me there after the awful flight on Toothless. Then, I’d screamed in his face that I hated him, and gotten myself lost in the woods because I was selfish and prideful and full of hate.

Even then, Hiccup had gone out and found me. Who knew how long that had taken him? He’d brought me back here, cleaned my house, made me food, and for what? For me to be snappy, harsh, and rude.

I ran my tongue over my lower lip, staring resolutely at the floor. “Hiccup?” I managed finally.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?” I looked at him, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “Be honest.”

Hiccup hesitated, stirring the wooden spoon listlessly around the soup. “What do you mean?” he said finally.

I sighed, sitting up straight and brushing off my skirts. “You know… helping me.” I have a little laugh. “Heavens knows you don’t need to. So why are you really doing all this?”

Hiccup chewed his lip. “Because I’m going to be the Chief of Berk pretty soon. I need to be able to protect my people.” His gaze fixed on mine. “Even when they don’t like me, or want me to.”

Under his fierce eyes, my insides crinkled. I felt exposed, as if I was being examined under a bright light. I dropped my gaze.

“I’m sorry…” I managed, the words sounding funny in my mouth. I hadn’t apologised to Hiccup, for anything, ever.

“It’s okay.” His voice sounded surprisingly even, like he wasn’t even bothered about all this. So it was just me feeling all these things, was it? He was truly just doing this out of a sense of duty. And honestly, why shouldn’t he? I’d already told myself I was a rude little brat, to be totally honest. I didn’t deserve to have people look after me, at all.

I didn’t meet Hiccup’s eyes. “Um, that’s cool. But thank you, really.”

Hiccup nodded, and handed me a steaming mug of hot soup. “Eat up,” he said. “I’ll leave you the rest… have a good night, Y/n.”

And with that, he disappeared. The house felt suddenly very small and lonely, and I shrunk into myself, staring into the fire, sipping tiny bits of soup until I was all warmed up inside.

I gazed around the cabin. It looked so different, all shining and clean. It made me feel like maybe I might be able to move on; get over them leaving me. I shook my head. That would never happen. I didn’t think I was capable of letting it go, of moving forward with my life. I was seventeen years old, and I still held a grudge against my parents for ‘abandoning’ me when I was twelve.

Thoughts whirled through my brain, at an almost dizzying rate. I left my mug on the table, and went to stand by the open window, facing out into the main road of Berk.

A few children were playing in it, kicking a round wooden ball to each other. I watched them for a minute or two, before an absurd idea struck me. I pushed open the front door. “Hey!” I yelled.

The kids turned to look at me, momentarily forgetting their game. “Can I join you guys?” I asked, feeling brave.

The oldest girl looked confused for a moment, then after a brief pause, gave me a smile and a nod. “Sure!” she called.

I grinned, and shut my door behind me, jogging over to them. Playing ball was something I hadn’t done in years, but it felt good to just relax for a while. Plus, it was amazing to see others doing an activity that didn’t revolve around dragons, so I could join in.

Dragons. I shuddered a little, remembering the awful ride on Toothless, and making my feelings around Hiccup even more complicated.

After a good long play, I collapsed to the ground in a heap, blowing up my breath. “Gosh,” I managed. “I can see why kids like playing ball. It’s fun.” I offered the girl who’d let me come play with them a small smile.

“You’re Y/n, aren’t you?” the girl asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

I hesitated. How did they know who I was? I never really talked to anyone except Astrid, Hiccup and a few other people. Certainly not the children.

“Yeah, I am,” I said slowly. “How do you know my name?”

The little girl allowed herself a smug smile. “Hiccup told us about you.” Turning, she threw the ball to one of her friends.

I was dumbfounded. “Hiccup?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. He told us you guys used to be friends but now you’re mean to him and won’t let him be nice to you anymore. He said he misses being your friend.”

I wrinkled my nose, staring at her. “Hiccup said he misses me?” I scoffed finally. “There’s no way. You must have heard him wrong. Hiccup hurt me incredibly badly when we were six years old, and ever since then he’s teased and bothered me almost to death. I will never be his friend again.”

I stood, suddenly angry all over again. Angry about how hurt I was, how much I hated Hiccup and my parents for hurting me. I clenched my teeth. “Thank you for letting me join you. Bye.”

I turned and began the walk uphill to Astrid’s house. Right now, I really needed to see my best friend.

When Astrid opened the door, she immediately noticed something was wrong. She frowned. “Are you alright?”

I shook my head. “Everything is so hopeless, A.”

Astrid made a sympathetic face and pulled me into a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” she whispered into my shoulder. “Come on, come inside. It’s freezing.”

Maybe it was. I felt so numb I didn’t think I would’ve noticed even if it was cold enough to give me frostbite. I felt like my insides were frozen, unable to feel anything at all.

Astrid pulled me inside, sitting me down on a chair beside the roaring fire. She knelt down in front of me. “What happened?” she asked, staring into my face.

I shook my head, looking away from her. “I… I don’t even know…” I began to cry, dropping my head in my hands.

Astrid pursed her lips, hugging me again. “Is it your parents? Hiccup? Tell me.”

I took a deep breath, and slowly began to tell her the entire story, beginning yesterday, when Hiccup took me into the woods and the whole, horrible ride on Toothless began. I kept my eyes steadily fixed on the fire as I spoke, quietly recounting the flight, the fight, being lost in the woods and then Hiccup rescuing me and cleaning my house. I even told her about the awkward hug.

The only thing I couldn’t manage to admit to Astrid was how I felt about Hiccup. I couldn’t decide if I hated his guts, or if I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again.

When I was finished, Astrid let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, babe,” she said. “But if you ask me… Hiccup wasn’t at fault for what Toothless was doing during that flight. I think he might be telling you the truth; that he just wanted you to see that dragons aren’t dangerous.”

I nodded slowly. I was beginning to believe that. Of course, that just made me hate dragons even more, but there was no point saying that aloud. Astrid knew I hated dragons even more than I hated Hiccup. I would never, ever trust a dragon.

Astrid studied me. “Do you want to know what else I think?”

I glanced at her. “By the look on your face, no. But I guess you’re going to tell me anyway, so… sure.”

Astrid suppressed a smile. “You know me too well,” she said. “But, what I think is, you don’t hate Hiccup at all. You’re just angry. At your parents mostly. But Hiccup hurt you too, years ago. You’re alone now, so you’re taking out your anger on the only person you have any sort of justification to do so to.”

I was silent. Sadly, her words rang hard and true. I could finally see that, yes, my hatred of Hiccup was really just anger at myself, and my parents. It had honestly nothing to do with Hiccup himself. He’d just been unfortunate enough to annoy me all those years ago, so now I’d decided to hate him because of it.

I shook my head in disbelief. “I’ve been so stupid,” I muttered.

“Not stupid,” Astrid said. “Kinda crazy, maybe, but not stupid.”

I looked at her. “I think… I think I should go and apologize to someone.”

She smiled. “Go.”

I jumped to my feet and ran, leaving her front door swinging open in the wind.

I didn’t stop running until I reached Hiccup’s house. I burst inside without thinking about knocking, but stopped short on the threshold.

“Stoick!” I gaped, trying to find the right words. “I, I am so sorry—“

“Y/n,” Stoick replied, getting to his feet. “What brings you here in such a hurry?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you alright?”

I nodded breathlessly. “What? Yes. Yes, I’m fine, thanks, I just —“

“Were you looking for Hiccup?”

I pursed my lips. “I might’ve been.”

Stoick chuckled. “You’ve got spirit, lass. I like that about you.”

I blinked. “Um, thank you?”

“He’s at the beach.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Chief.”

The path that ran towards the beach was thin and steep, covered in loose rocks that skidded under my shoes. More than once I almost fell off the cliff side.

When I reached the beach, I was surprised at how small it seemed. Then again, I hadn’t been here since I was little. I guess my memories of it had faded. With a start, I realised that the last time I had been here was probably with Hiccup himself, back when we were small and best friends.

I spotted Hiccup’s figure walking through the surf a few hundred meters away. I started toward him, slowly in case I scared him with a sudden approach.

The beach itself was small and rocky, round black stones instead of proper sand. The waves here were little and inconsistent, barely making a splash. Sometimes in the summer, we would have a day or two of good weather, and the waves would be bigger, but that was a pretty rare occurrence.

I reached Hiccup, who was now standing with his hands buried in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

“What do you see?” I whispered.

“Freedom,” he replied softly, turning to look at me. “When I’m riding Toothless, nothing is impossible. Me, a human, can fly on the back of a dragon. There is something magical about that, Y/n.”

I chewed my lip, considering his words. I guess there was something amazing about that fact, but still… dragons.

“Um,” I said. “I came here to apologise.”

Hiccup’s green eyes turned a darker shade. “For what?”

I dug the side of my shoe in the sand, my eyes sliding away from his. “For… everything.”

He waited, his eyes roaming my face.

I swallowed. “For not being your friend when I should have been. For hating you and your love for dragons. For being a terrible person. For hitting you and hating you and making your life miserable.” During this little speech, my voice had gotten higher and louder. Now it broke, and I felt tears brimming to my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hiccup,” I cried.

Hiccup didn’t say anything. He stared at me for a count of five, while tears began to stream down my cheeks. What was wrong with me this week? For years, I’d barely cried at all, hiding my emotions inside. Now I was crying, again.

Hiccup did something I didn’t expect. He grabbed my face between his hands. They were tougher than I would’ve thought, calloused and hard from working with metals and wood and materials. He stared into my eyes for long enough for my tears to stop flowing. “Y/n,” he said. “It’s okay. You were forgiven years ago.”

He pulled me into a tight embrace. A week ago, I would’ve fought and hit and yelled at him, but now? I melted into Hiccup’s body, burying my face in his chest and wrapping my arms tightly around him, letting my tears flow freely.

For the first time since my parents died, I felt at peace.

For the next three weeks, I tried my hardest to start a routine. To start cleaning my house, cooking meals every day, and (the hardest part of all), going out and talking to someone each and every morning.

Sometimes I just talked to Astrid, when it got bad and I truly couldn’t get enough emotion energy to talk to anyone else. But sometimes I managed. I talked to the kids playing in the streets, to the other girls I never really talked to before, to the guys helping out in the dragon-saddle-making workshop.

But mostly, I talked to Hiccup. I talked to him as if we’d never stopped being friends, as if we were six years old again. It honestly surprised me how easy it was to get along with him now that I didn’t have an eternal grudge against him. Hiccup was still the same person he’d always been. It was me who had changed.

I made an effort to even start working. I’d never done anything like it before, really, but it was honestly alright. I had a few shifts at the dragon workshop a week, and it was kind of fun after a while. Yeah, sure, I still got terrified when someone actually brought their dragon to the shop, but for the most part it was good.

Hiccup worked there sometimes as well, and so did Stoick. Astrid didn’t, because she was a dragon trainer and didn’t really have the time. I would’ve liked it if we were able to work together, but there was no way I would be able to train dragons. At all.

But, you know, life was pretty alright. I still had scars, deep and hidden and probably incurable, but I also had friends. And hope. And maybe, just maybe, a future.

I woke up screaming. My bedsheets were clutched tight in my fists, a tangled mess around my legs. Hot tears were still rolling down my cheeks, and my chest heaved, as if I’d just run the length of the island in my sleep.

I tried to swallow, tried to even out my breathing. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow properly. I reached for the glass of water that I always had beside my bed, and gulped it down.

I could still evision the awful images from my dreams. Hiccup, Astrid, my parents, all trapped in a circle of flaming dragons. They were screaming for me, calling my name. I couldn’t move, my legs seemingly stuck to the ground. I could do nothing but watch as the dragons slowly spread over the bodies of my loved ones, devouring them. I sank to my knees, screaming in agony.

I shivered, climbing out from under the sheets. I needed to get out of this empty house. I didn’t care if it was the middle of the night, I had to see someone.

I hurried down the stairs, bursting out into the night. Stars glittered in the sky, the night quiet and bright. The cold wind hit me like a wall, and I shuddered. I hadn’t thought of grabbing my jacket.

My feet moved faster than my mind, taking me somewhere that I didn’t even know I wanted to be. I slipped inside Hiccup’s house, tiptoeing to where I knew his room was.

Outside his door, I finally realised what I was doing. Sneaking into Hiccup’s room in the dead of night? What was I thinking? Was I crazy?

Maybe I am, I thought, slowly pushing open Hiccup’s door. I stood still on his doorway for a moment, before quietly slipping over to the side of his bed.

“Hiccup?” I breathed, almost soundlessly.

“Y/n?” Hiccup was instantly awake, sitting up in his bed. “What are you…? Why are you here? Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse from sleep, and he squinted at me.

I hesitated. What was I supposed to say? Oh, I just had a dream about you dying and it terrified me so I’m here to make sure you’re still alive? Of course I wasn’t going to say that.

“I had a nightmare.” I bit my lip, shifting from foot to foot. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

Hiccup’s dark eyes gazed into mine. He leaned back slightly, so he could see me more clearly. “Why did you come to me?” he asked quietly, his voice ragged and raspy.

I dropped my gaze. “You were the only one I thought of coming to,” I whispered. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” Hiccup said. “Do… do you want to stay here? Or do you want me to walk you back to your house?”

I hesitated. “Could I please just stay here, with you?” I met his eyes for a brief second.

He smiled. “Anything for you.” He said it so flippantly, I might’ve missed it any other time. But my brains snagged on the words, turning them over and over in my mind. Anything for you…

“Thank you, Hiccup,” I whispered. We were both silent for a while. “Can I… can I stay with you until morning?” I asked.

Hiccup stared at me, then nodded. I slowly crawled onto his bed, leaning against the bed-head. Hiccup glanced at me, then lay back down on his pillow. After a moment, I snuggled down next to him, hyper aware of every part of my body under the sheets.

We were nose to nose. I could feel his hot breath on my face. His green eyes glittered in the darkness.

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered groggily. “I hope you don’t have any more nightmares.” With that, he closed his eyes, and I heard no more from him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

you know i've been thinking about the consequences of malleus's actions in book 7 and i realized how much he's fucked everyone over including his grandma. bc like other than the fact that he ob'd (which literally has NEGATIVE connotations one of which being is idk ""UNSTABLE"" which isnt necessarily a good look for a crown prince is all im saying) he's literally causing terrorism (??? can you call it that idk how else to call it) which is going to setback his grandma's efforts (and lilia's and baul's, and every supporter of his and his family) in keeping peace in their kingdom and the favor of the humans towards the fae. Like. i feel so bad for grandmother draconia rn i can only imagine the stress and pressure she's under.

Then theres also aside from PHYSCIALLY compromising everyone's healths in sage island (BECAUSE THE MAJORITY ARE HUMANS OR AT LEAST THEY DONT LIVE AS LONG AS THE FAE). He's also fucked everyone mentally twice over!!!! By booting them straight into a world where none of their problems exist. Now that wouldnt sound bad if it weren't for the fact that dreams have to end, and life isnt kind. It rarely ever is, and i can only imagine how distraught i would be if i were to say, hypothetically lost someone a year before and the wound is so fresh and raw and, in my dreams, they never died and everything is okay, then i wake up and realize that it was just that. A dream, they are still gone and i wish i never woke up which would be a LITERAL DEATH SENTENCE. This isnt just an event that takes place in NRC either BUT THE WHOLE ISLAND and that domain is GROWING, GROWING. I can't imagine just how many would be so emotionally ruined after this. Like.....

If Malleus does not suffer the consequences of his actions istg i will be so pissed, at least REMOVE HIM FROM THE PREMISE OR SOMETHING GODDDDDDD this cannot be remedied with a slap on the hand!!!!!

(Note: Sorry for the long rant. I felt the need to get this out of my chest bc i dont mind malleus's archetype actually nor do i actually hate him, bc i enjoy him interacting w other characters a lot (my fave ever vigenette is him giving deuce the equivalent of minecraft diamon for fixing a retrobit gaming toy) BUT GOD DOES HE MAKE MY BLOOD BOIL)

Yeah, I do feel like the scale of Malleus's actions cannot be understated. I know it's kind of a fandom joke that the OB boys are left off with a slap on the wrist + maybe some social ramifications at school, but this is the ONE time in the main story where things are getting super big and the effects could be cripplingly long-lasting.

I don't know if TWST will seriously address the consequences after book 7, but I sure hope they do!! There is a lot of interesting ground to cover (many points which this anon has already brought up) in a follow-up main story arc or the next book.

For example:

Malleus obviously has to regain the trust of his peers and staff. He didn’t really have it before but now has to work twice as hard to make connections since he just took a drastic action that confirmed the rumors some were already spreading about how he’s a monster.

He’s the sole heir to the throne and has just betrayed the trust of the people of Briar Valley. How are they feeling about him now? Do they still trust him to lead them?

How does this impact their relations with other countries (since Malleus himself stresses how he represents Briar Valley)? This is a problem visible on a global scale, and surely this would damage their rep with other nations, particularly the predominantly human ones. It’s setting back what is hundreds of years of trying to fix the broken trust between their races.

Malleus’s UM potentially puts his victims in physical harm; in book 7, Ortho suggests that since everyone is sleeping, their bodies are not getting the food or water they need. As a result, they may physically waste away and then perish. (We have seen that there are sleep blessings that keep people sleeping for hundreds of years without detriment to the blessed though, such as the one cast on Silver—so we cannot be entirely sure if Ortho’s theory is correct or not.)

There is the possibility that Malleus’s dreams may traumatize or retraumatize his victims, particularly those with deep rooted troubles. An example of this is Idia, who had suffered the loss of his brother when he was like… 8 years old??? But then in his dream, Idia is living a happy false reality that Ortho never died. When he finally comes to this realization, he has to relive the trauma of the discovery all over again and breaks down sobbing. We also see in the most recent book 7 update that Vil had to face the evilest aspects of himself and a dark reality; Rook became very emotional upon waking himself. Admittedly, Idia and co. coped with it well enough—this is proof of their character development and the strength of the new friendships they’ve formed. However, all the people on Sage’s Island/Twisted Wonderland may not react so positively or be so accepting of their cruel realities.

Again, just the overall moral dilemma of one person robbing all of Sage’s Island (and soon all of Twisted Wonderland) of their autonomy.

Potential extra work for STYX and whichever countries Malleus’s magic manages to spread to (repairing any physical damage caused by the thorns + mental damage done to those that fell asleep). That’s money, time, and resources that aren’t going toward other everyday endeavors.

How will Malleus himself mentally and emotionally cope with what he has done? Is he going to show remorse and shame? How does he plan on rectifying his actions, if at all?

Will this change how his dorm members + family view him? For example, will Sebek become disillusioned with his liege/realize Malleus is not as perfect as he seems? Will Maleficia blame herself for not being there for Malleus? Will Lilia feel guilty for not teaching Malleus right from wrong? Etc, etc, etc.

I’d honestly love to read all of these! 🤔 It would add a lot to the lore and history of Twisted Wonderland, as well as serve as motivators for Malleus to change, “be better”, and actually earn the respect he’s so used to being handed by default. This would be huge for him, especially seeing as he has not really faced significant backlash or consequences for any other missteps he was responsible for or involved in. (I know I bring this one up a lot, but Endless Halloween Night is one such major example.)

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

shuro notes

upon rereading some of dungeon meshi, I got a better grasp on his role in the story and why hes in the main supporting cast along w kabru (main protag of the suporting cast), namari, and mithrun (main antag of the supp cast) . Contrary to most of the characters disliking eating monsters, he seems to dislike eating, period. In his first appearance he refuses to eat maizurus cooking (with maybe some mermaid eggs sprinkled in..?). His refusal to eat ties into his extreme passivity. He seems to dislike how his father does what he pleases with no regard to how it affects others, and his fear of doing the same seems to play a huge role in how he lets other ppl walk all over him. He ignores his own desires, including his own hunger, because consuming means taking another life. To live means something else has to die, so to desire is to want to take from others. To try to live up to the image of an impassive leader he tries to not participate in this process at all! But bc hes a human being he has to eat, so instead of never taking from others, he starves.

With Falin, I think he realizes there is a way forward where he could be himself and face the ugly realities of what it means to want. To be unabashedly yourself while not hurting everyone in your life. His love comes from a deep place of admiration! I think part of the reason why he's so dead set on saving her is bc he wants to be her equal—she saved him from his nightmares without a second thought, and part of it is to repay her kindness and to be able to reciprocate it. I think he foils nicely w marcille bc he proposes to her (asks her to choose her future) while marcille doesnt want her to move on from the time they were both children. I think this plays a huge part in why marcille hates him, bc its a reminder of how the time will pass and also he aims to take falin away from her. Interestingly, she also became fairly distant and withdrawn after falin left and they both formed their relationship w her bc dirt and bugs r cool. They both are the party members in Laios squad that fly off the handle the most. Socioeconomically, they both seem to be in the least dire straits and kinda prissy abt things as a result. On re-read something else clicked into place.

After his fight w laios that starts w legit grievances and devolves into him hitting all of laios’ insecurities like a game of whack-a-mole, shuro says he’s returning to his home country and after that he would never see any of these ppl again. Even before falin got eaten, he knew he was going to have to leave the party but couldnt bring himself to tell them. The way the convo goes, it seems part of the reason why he proposed to her so suddenly is bc he wants to take a part of his time on the island back home with him—i.e. that hes not ready to say goodbye. That the prospect was taken from him so suddenly is why this is the first thing hes asked for or wanted for himself. Interesting parallels to how marcille is not ready to live the rest of her 1000 year life without her friends now, and how falins death is a catalyst that brings her fear to the surface—that for both of them, theyll live the rest of their lives never seeing the ppl they love from this island again. I think part of the reason he is so nasty to laios in particular is bc his entire worldview falls apart at laios' actions

Both desire wise and literally, Shuro is starving. And like a starving person getting his first meal in a long time, I think he gets a little greedy—when he gives Laios the bell, he says if the party somehow makes it past thistle, to ring it so they can all escape to the East--where he's headed. Likewise marcilles solution is to bring everyone with her to the 1000 year lifespan. Thats surprisingly childish of both of them! Also not a solution to the problem that suits anyone but themselves. Theres so many solutions to this. He could write. He could call. He could communicate view morse code using that bell instead of attempting to blink in morse code to communicate to laios how he doesnt want to be here. Falin voice: I’ll go visit you, okay? He could set foot on the island again. Honestly. This is so embarrassing for him.

But I think it gets at a core theme of the work. Marcille, Laios, and Shuro all say their greatest desire is to save Falin, but once u get down to it, theyre pretty basic-to not be left alone, to be w monsters who u feel a kinship with, to not have to leave. Namari says she left bc of money but later on goes u must never let go of your fear. Kabru says he wants to get to know laios to prevent utaya from happening again but its much simpler-he wants to be his friend. Our base desires are petty, but they are what keep us going day to day, just like how every living being has to hunger and eat to achieve the goals they set out for.

Lets talk abt his relationship w his retainers.

Hein- theyre childhood friends that have drifted apart in adulthood. By the familiar way she talks about him when hes not around, I think she wants to be close to him again. I think the distance between them is probably intentionally imposed by Shuro bc hes afraid theyll turn out like maizuru and his father. She thinks hes unreliable in a way i think u can only rlly get when u know someone for that long. I wonder if some of that I thought wed always end up together and I want him to like me even tho I dont like him back is wanting that closeness in friendship again

Maizuru- Good god whats happening here. she loves him but also treats him like a child even tho hes a 26 year old man. I think its got fun connections to how kabrus adoptive mom treats him like a child, how marcilles not ready to see falin n herself as adults, thistles relationship w degal. Now these are all relationships where differences in lifespan come into play, but w maizuru n shuro i think u see something real banal in why these elves cant let the ppl in their lives go. She coddles him bc she loves him and tells him at the end he doesn't have to eat the dragon if he doesn't want to, but he rebukes her and says he has to eat it to accept his own failures. So like he doesn't need to be coddled he needs ppl in his life to challenge him so he can grow. And at the end he realizes it tastes good--that even tho his journey had so much conflict and in the end he failed to save falin he made friends! He grew as a person! He starts reaching out to his retainers again! He got to harrass the elf cops and give them migraines! Ties a lot into laios speech to marcille that if falin didnt die they wouldn't have met all these ppl and gotten to eat all this food.

Its wild she put that hag curse on him. Poor kid cant even take a shit in peace. Actually the fact that he couldnt even have that time for himself n grew up constantly feeling watched explains a lot. I think the fact his father nonchalently burnt it and then roasted mochi over it without giving him any explaination made him think oh this is just what everyone goes through and im the weird one for being frightened. And it takes him 20 years to find out that no, its not normal to be haunted by a ghost that chases you with a knife. Pretty apt metaphor for how rules have defined his life without him fully understanding why they're in place. I'll give it a crack tho--it seems like the time period his homelands based on the sengoku period bc its a period of heavy civil war where ppl below upsurped the ppl above them. The strict hierarchy is probably an attempt to exercise social control in an extremely precarious situation.

Also side note: kinda impressive he can do magic when he was six. Probs a combination of maizuru being a talented teacher and his own skill. The fire cast… close but no cigar. Also interesting is how the magic he casts seems more elf-y in nature vs maizurus gnomic spirit magic. I wonder if hes his partys black mage- the occupation his party is pointedly missing vs the toudens missing their white mage and kabrus party being well rounded at all points. If so thats hilarious that when the toudens lost their previous mage and everyone was panicking he was like well… im just not gonna say anything #OnBrand. I do wonder if the bell he gives laios is his own magic tho.

Also shuros mother is mad at maizuru for being shuros dads mistress but gives her her children to raise…. Lets unpack this contradiction. Incidentally my tin foil hat theory is Shuros a bastard child. maizuru n his dad have been fucking since 4ever -> one of these children is not legitiment -> probs the one w a strange distance from the rest -> whys shuro succeeding his dad so up in the air when his competitions a 14 and an 8 year old. It's not important tho.

izutsumi + inutade: the fact that he doesnt speak up is his defining moment of moral cowardice. Its tied to his passivity! Hes scared of saying or doing the wrong thing bc hes afraid of hurting others, and he does basically attempt to torch his relationship w laios like it was contaminated w anthrax. Like the first time he tries to be active it went horribly, but his involvement moves the plot forward enormously—with him kabru would not have run into Laios, izutsumi would probably not have been able to run away, he raises the stakes of the journey by indicating they probs cant return to the surface so they have to keep going. And even tho its messy, ugly, and embarassing, he can still pick up the pieces afterwards. Nothing he does is as harmful as his passivity on inutade and izutsumis situations which unequivically, he knows is wrong.

Also w all the references to buying people, I looked it up bc i was like.... like slavery...? it seems to be a reference to retainership as a social caste where people buy your services and as a result you owe the estate your service. You get paid and you have rights, but it seems like you are bound to your station, but depending on the time period japan is supposed to reference, some ppl took on these positions for the sake of social advancement. Regardless, it seems the caste system is also less rigid than stated and ppl can move amongst the positions. There doesn't seem to be an exact cultural equivelent to this, but I think the closest concept is like, being a vassal. I was like if this is slavery this narrative portrays izutsumis time w the nakamotos too ambivenlently and hien going don't you feel any gratefulness for them taking you in makes no sense. But I still think theres something pretty rotten going on here.

Allegedly, as a ninja, you ascend the ranks based on your skill. And yet izutsumi and inutade are at the bottom, and hien, the person that was born into this role, is at the top! Izutsumi and Inutade aren't even considered human in the island of wa--this distinction is given to tall-men only. Theyre both from positions where I feel like the other characters are like they should be grateful they got from one horrible situation to this one thats a system based on merit and skill, but like out of everyone, theyre in the least position of power to say no, to even appreciate what other options there are for them in the world. Like its deeply coercive and wrong. Whats up w shuros father collecting ppl like theyre trophies man. So we can see a system allegedy based on merit is not one at all. Also I feel theres undertones of japanese imperialism with izutsumi being from the equivelent of central asia and having a soul of a child stuffed into her like some kinda of science experiment. Maizurus constantly trying to "civilize" her by teaching her ettiquite such as using your chopsticks. Like the rhetoric of the elves ape pretty directly to imperialistic sentiments, it would not surprise me if theres intentional commentary about japanese imperialism in how izutsumis treated bc japans kinda known in the east for their imperialism... theyve just done it so many times like my parents were like we left our families, our culture, everything we knew behind to go to america.... but we kept our death grudge against japan tho!! #lmfao. Honestly fair. anyways i think theres intentional parallels between how izutsumi is treated as both as a child and a feral animal by maizuru and how the elves treate other races as children that need toys taken away from them. But also how fundementaly, maizurus unsuited to take care of izutsumi bc the tools she has are not suited to izutsumis needs! She has no understanding of izutsumis life. Her hag curse turns from a highly questionable child rearing tactic on shuro to outright a slave collar on izutsumi. Teaching shuro ettiquate and being able to fight gives him the tools to survive in the postion he was born in but is erasing the culture izutsumi grew up in and has been taken away from before she even knew what it meant. Bc she was treated like a circus freak she never got to choose for herself! Tho providing the basic comforts to shuro is a privilage, it's not to izutsumi bc shes never been able to choose what she wants in life. It's why shes set up as shuros narrative foil like so:

This is his pensive look btw its a consistant tic that he lookes like hes glaring when hes deep in thought. Maizurus is both these people's strange mother figure who feeds them in liu of their actual mother. She smothers shuro in love and doesn't let him face actual challenges in life while she intensely disciplines izutsumi. Shuro reacts to this by aquiessing and never making demands of his own while izutsumi constantly refuses to conform. This is probably why he doens't get her.

In the early points of the story, shuro either says leave izutsumi for dead or leave her so she can pursue her freedom. The ambiguity is intentional, because i think in this part of the story we are not supposed to have a good read on him. But it's also because because of his passivity he doesn't do shit for her! So he loses out on having any type of relationship w her even tho they were tormented by the same curse. But crucially he may have learned from this w inutade, who he explicitly aknowledges how her situation is fucked up and her worship of his father is due to an insane power imbalance even tho he has no clue how to talk to her about this. And at the very end of the manga, he gets into an eating contest with her at her prodding as equals. So maybe there's hope he can do better. But I think its important that his relationship w izutsumi is non-existent as a consequence of his passivity despite the things they have in common bc theres no excuse for it. Thier relationship probs deserves its own post.

benichidori - very funny amongst all these complicated relationships these two just straight up dont know each other n r too shy to do so. Is what I was going to say but then I realized benichidori has taken shuros place as hiens closet friend and I wonder if theres any jealousy abt that. But also she shares a lot of traits w shuro and isnt that just interesting:

but even more interesting is her comic:

this is beat for beat shuros conflict w laios.

We only care about one thing: the crushing opinion of everyone in the universe.

I didnt get this on my first read even tho laios was like hes smart but he is incredibly sharp. Hes good at making useful deductions when things dont add up. It rlly reminds u hes trained in espionage.

He keeps kabru on his toes! interesting for such a smooth talker.

He gets kabru to open up about his motivations here and how it affected him and kabru actually shares some of his own feelings on the manner when usually hes holding ppl at arms length. I think him getting a chance to recite this helps prep him to talk to the caneries where notably, hes a lot more clinical about it.

Its nice all three of these ppl can challenge each other and support each other. I think it would be funny if kabru hits em up in the future like do u wanna start some shit for old times sake

able to tell chilchuck was not a child

is afraid of marcille which tbh fantastic call

Everyone else horrified marcille just killed a man but he's like yeah #tracks.

Other things that reminded me hes basically a fixer:

Spends his screentime evading the elf cops.

Refuses to talk to the canaries even under threat of being interegated for 50 years despite threatening laios party multiple times that hes gonna tell on them. instead spends his time going tbh i've never known anything in my life. I'm stupid like that :pensive emoji:

Incredible bit of manipulation on his part-he pretends to be thinking out loud to cast doubt on the canaries judgement to appeal to the ppl in the dungeon that are not motivated by the goodness of their hearts. Reminds me of namaris relatively selfish reasons for leaving the party--needing to get paid, which is a need she was ignoring for far too long and also laios was also not paying proper attn too when namaris in dire straits, and how she says she left the party after the dragon bc she remembered to never forget your fear. That selfishness must also drive you forward. Then he uses that doubt to twist the situation to say all their information could be false so maaaybe the situation is not as dire as they claim and they have other motives (social control). And he pretends hes talking to the caneries but this is directed to everyone else. He and namari pretend to pick a fight so the leader's distracted and everyone else uses this opening to scatter, which causes enough chaos that it breaks the control the elves have. Which is wild bc shuro knows the dungeon is dangerous bc kabru told him about utaya. He also knows laios party can be dangerous w the amount of collateral they cause w the dragon. He puts a lot of ppl in danger that do not need to be even though multiple times he worries about people getting hurt. At his core, tho, I think he wants to see laios and his party again and that selfish desire trumps everything else in this moment. Namari and shuro are so ride or die TBH.

He never shares any of this when not prompted. Except notably at the end he interrupts when ppl think laios might be dead. Which as an aside I think its interesting his biggest contribution to saving falin is not thru his fighting prowess, but through the simple fact he reached out to laios. His compassions his greatest strength. Laios frestrautes him and kabru, and they both punch him and complain that theyll never understand him, but I think they dont have to. Love requires compromise—it requires eating things you really dont want to, you clash and you hurt each other, but what matters most is that you keep reaching out to one another, that you keep on trying to understand each other. Living requires you to hurt and be hurt, to give and take.

Once again stuck in the middle of an insane and ancient beef

low key funny that he remembered the last time he was here and he was like u know what.... ill just sit this one out....

If my son told me he spent the last week pissing off the elf cops, Id be like yeah thats what the nakamotos are all about TBH

Theres pretty juicy stuff abt how laios is interested in shuro because hes exotic like a monster and his own relationship with being othered by ppl and the fact that shuro is constantly referred to as a foreighner even to ppl hes known and has risked his life for for two years + how to laios monsterhood is a type of freedom while being othered is a type of dehumanization for shuro + how hes trying to show some kind of solidarity to shuro but hes microagressing him thru his attemps + how laios just is being explicitly saying the racist beliefs everyone else implicitly holds just like how mithrun says other races are inferior races which horrifies the rest of the elves but its honestly what they believe but I'm tired and need to think abt it a bit more.

Why do shuro and his party from an island primarily composed of humans and other ppl sometimes not classified as humans but have similair lifespan bc of sociopolitical reasons imitate so many interracial dynamics despite being of the same race? It's to show how marcilles wrong about how the inequality between races exists bc of lifespan differences. Her own fears due to fantastical reasons of being a half-elf and unable to relate any of her insecurities to other ppl are not exclusive to her! Tall-men - Tall-men relationships run along the same lines and have the same conflicts. All the things she fears are things that make her human, that other people have also felt.

in conclusion:

think abt the messiest person u know. Its a man

jk its marcille #feminism

[thecynthh]

end game - M.S

synopsis - through matt and y/n’s life both of them never thought they would be hooking up, but what happens when everyone finds out about them and it blows up in their face.

2.6k words

notes - IM NOT HATING ON MADI I JUST NEEDED SOMEONE TO USE FOR STORY PURPOSES. (im her biggest fan dont cancel me)

(synopsis for a new series that i’m working on is featured)

this is for @annamcdonalds67 contest!! i saw the post and saw how many taylor swift songs were there and this was one of my favourite ones out there and i got insanely inspired. please share some love to anna as well bc she deserves it for organizing this !

warnings - smut->angst, small matt sub, riding, oral (fem receiving), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, badboy!matt x goodgirl!reader

for lacysturniolo and her amazing work and dedication to her fans, i’ll look up to you, forever and always

-

matt barely made it through the door before his arms were strangling me in a death inducing kiss. in my whole 17, almost 18, years of life i never expected in my life did i think my childhood best friend would be the one crushing me with his lips. we’ve both dated around but through it all we ended up here.

“fuck, matt” the breathy name escapes from my mouth feeling him move down to my neck leaving stinging hickeys with his talented mouth. “god im glad your parents aren’t here, don’t think my good kid image would keep up if they heard you.”

“you’re so inappropriate matt” my eyes roll listening to him rub in how much my parents love matt. “come on, i don’t like the idea of you fucking me on any other surface than in my room especially in my parents house.”

“whatever you say princess,” the small smirk he’s always had since he was 12 still looms over me as i lead him towards the grand staircase. he followed very close behind me keeping his arms and mouth on my neck.

it doesn’t take long till he’s holding my arms above my head with his fingers intertwined with mine. “matt, fuck, please can you just fuck me now.”

“you don’t get to be impatient, you called.”

“and you came.”

“you are about to as well.” i wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face if his body didn’t feel so right pressed up against mine.

we haven’t told anyone about us yet, not even nick or chris. we both knew it would only make things worse, and i was alright with keeping it a secret. i’ve spent enough of my closeted and innocent. I'm a teenager, teens are supposed to do this type of thing. teens may hook up but maybe not with their childhood best friends

his mouth trailed down from my neck, to my sternum, all the down to between my thighs before he yanked my legs down to come closer to the edge of the bed.

3RD PERSON POV

matt’s hands never seem to have left y/n's body, exploring every last inch of her body. her arms, legs and heart were his. matt spends no time wasted connecting his lips to her clothed heat, within seconds she’s shimming her pants and underwear off.

there was a small knock on the door with an awaiting friend, madi was there to meet up with y/n to pick up the homework she had missed that day. without an answer from the door, madi looks around the house through windows and cracks in the blinds.

only seeing a light shown through from the living room, she wanders off to the balcony and fire escape on the side of the house. it was only a flight of stairs and a half till madi was on par with the balcony, it was a short climb till she was onto the balcony. the only thing blocking madi and the couple was a transparent creme coloured cloth with embroidered rose accents.

y/n’s loud moans escaped flooding her bedroom, escaped through the window. the curtains sway giving madi an opening to see matt fully down on her friend and her enjoying it. madi’s mouth gapes open as ashe slides her phone out of her pocket.

the camera app opens quickly as she swipes to record.

the small blip of her phone pipes up as she capturns the full scene on camera, the summer sunset gave a yellow glow to the recording. matt rips off his shirt with one arm dipping right back to y/n’s core.

madi’s only thought was to share it to her best friend, nick. little did she know nick wasn’t the only one she sent it to, but her homework group. madi continued to record through the small slit of the window.

science 4 group

madi 🩷

* view one attachment *

HOLY SHIT LOOK MATT AT Y/N’S HOUSE!!!!

Y/N’S POV

“matt, matt, matt” the release came to me in an instant. “come on baby girl, you did so well. you ready?” the sound of his belt come undone only made me hotter. before another word could be exchanged i grab his shoulder pulling him down to the bed rolling on top of him.

“i’ll ride you till your dick is limp and your begging me to stop.” matt’s reaction only made me feel even more aroused. “anything for you baby,” matt said copying my tone of voice.

stationing my legs on either side of his i bend down to kiss him, pressing my pebbled nipples onto his bare skin, slowly grinding down onto his raging hard on.

his whines only intensify the burning seer of his skin touching mine. my hand follows in suit with my hips feeling every last vein of his dick through his boxers. “a-ah!” matt whines due to me pressing my finger into his slit.

pushing his boxers down his dick springs out slapping against his happy trail. “please please please y/n please.”

“please what, pretty boy?” i mock feeling the surge of power flow through me.

“please fuck me,” he whimpered out. for such a bad boy exterior, he sure doesn’t act like it now.

without waiting another second for him to say something else i sink down onto his throbbing dick feeling him fill me up so well. “mhhm, matty you feel so good.”

“ugh, only for you b-baby.” matt’s barely keeping it together, while i bounce up and down on his cock. speeding up every second. i begin to grind onto his pelvis as i slam down onto him with his body slightly grazing my clit in the best way possible.

“matty, im a-about to c-cum. do it with me.” his hands sneak onto my love handles as i lean up against him again, he attaches his mouth to my nipple that was dangling in front of him. his hips snap up and down, pushing insanely deep inside me. “m-matt!” a loud pornographic moan comes out of my mouth feeling the knot in my stomach break, feeling a huge relief. he follows soon after letting out a guttural grunt.

i roll down beside him, both of our deep breaths fill the room. “fuck, oh my god.” i breathed out, heaving my chest. i turn to face him, putting my hand against his chest and my head onto the arm that was stretched out near me. my curtains move and sway with the blow of my fan as i see a shadow fall off of my window, it must've just been an animal.

“i don’t think i can walk,” i confess feeling him look over to me. my hand travels to feel his scruff that he’s been growing out the past few weeks, it’s never gotten that long but it’s still very apparent. “hmm, lemme take care of you okay? we can even get mcdonald’s, im fine driving out to the further one if you're scared of people to see us.” he combs his hand through my hair, tugging a little relieving some heat and pressure my head has collected.

he pushes himself up and goes to the bathroom, turning on the shower and coming back to retrieve me.

-

this whole day it felt like people were staring at me left and right, i haven’t even been in the building for more than 20 minutes and i’ve had three people quickly lose eye contact with me when they were the one staring first.

i haven’t matt yet but i was really hoping we would be able to meet up at our usual spot, im snapped out of my trances feeling someone's hand on my shoulder squeezing it a little. i jump a little whipping my head towards the rest of the hands body, thank goodness it’s just nick. “babes, we gotta talk.” he said in a monotone voice, “why what’s up?”

“just give me a second, stop moving.” i listen to him and stop in my tracks seeing nothing wrong with today but the staring. “okay now what happened last night,” nick said now holding me down with both hands.

“well if you must know, my parents are out of town, like you knew and i stayed home studying before going out for mcdonald’s.” the lie slipped out from my mouth with ease hoping to keep matt and my secret a secret for a little longer.

“okay then maybe it isnt that serious…” nick trailed off, his shoulders were very visibly tense, not letting off since he caught up to me. “what are you talking about? but come on lemme at least go to my locker.” he reluctantly let’s go knowing i’m stronger than him.

“y/n wait– just know i have no clue if its true or if it's even you.” he says following in suit with me. “nick, still no clue what you are talking about.” my locker lock clicks a few times before i'm able to get it open.

a large barrage of papers fall out of my locker all having the same image pasted on them. my mouth drops open as i turn my head to nick. he picks one up from the top of my locker, unfolding it and making a sour face to it. “what? what is it?”

he slowly hands it to me, folding it back up before i get ahold of it.

my heart dropped.

it was a grainy picture of me riding matt last night, his hands on my hips and my face looking at him with pure lust. it was taken through my window and luckily you couldn’t see much of matt’s face and next to none of mine. but people knew, everyone knew it was me.

picking up a few other copies, some of them have the words slut and whore written on them in large words. if they printed a picture it must’ve been everywhere online, i cannot stand being here another minute.

stuffing a couple copies into my bag i storm out of the building feeling tears stinging my eyes, y/n how could you let this happen? what’s going to happen when harvard finds out about this? there goes your life, your friends, your boyfriend and your future. quadruple kill.

i sit in my car and just drive, drive to the only place that’ll bring me any kind of peace at this time. it was only a 3 minute drive from the school to the large forest that surrounded the school. i parked my car on the slightly wet gravel, hearing the crunch of the rocks beneath the tires.

i walked and walked till the trees seemed to clear a bit, the grass was wet and squished under my shoes. brunette hair peaks from behind a tree, it was like the picture was being painted in front of me this whole time. matt came here too, he came to where we met the first time.

he stumbled into the forest after getting chased by a couple of guys once he tried to start a fight.

something brushed by the bushes alerting me, a boy in an oversized hoodie over his stained red white tee. jeans scuffed and a little dirty as he flops down on the grass in front of me. i can hear him panting as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

he tilts his head to finally see me, i still sit there frozen with my book in hand slowly reaching for my keys being cautious incase he tries to go for me next. “i see, you know. im not gonna hurt you. i would never hit a girl.” his words are slow and very unconvincing. “do you talk? he asked, glancing at me again. he finally sat up and came closer to me, my hand clutches the house keys even harder as he steps plop in front of me.

his body collides with the tree as he sits next to me, his sweet and salty cologne fills my senses, feeling it cloud my thoughts. he takes the book from my hands and closes it looking around at it.

“everything has changed by cynthia atlan, we crave love so much we would trade anything for it, including ourselves. caleb and cam grew up together, had their first kiss together but still haven’t thought about getting together. when highschool life takes a horrible turn the two become separated and distant, caleb doesn’t wanna let cam go but life takes turns and loops. how are they able to navigate hormones, relationships and life? sounds like a hoot.” his sarcastic voice says otherwise.

“this caleb guy doesn’t sound like he really deserved her huh…” he flips through the pages quickly glancing at a couple words per page.

“well, i guess i should go, but i’ll see you around here i hope.” his smile beamed brightly as he pushed himself up and looked back at me.

“hm, maybe” it comes out almost as a whisper. his face lights up as he takes my words as an accomplishment. “yeah, i’ll see you around here, tomorrow.”

he never gave me my book back before he left and i didn’t even realise it. i guess that’s one way to make me come back

“matt?” i get out between choked sobs. i didn’t even need to see his red eyes and face to tell he’s also been crying.

he peered over to where i was looking up and down before attempting to wipe away his tears and sadness. i didn’t think twice before joining him.

his brown hair is tousled by him running his hand through it many times and his tear stained eyes tell more than what he wished.

“y/n i-i’m so s-sorry.” his tears spilt once more making any effort of wiping them away futile. he wrapped his arms around something and hugged it tight. it was my book he stole from me when we first met. “i’m so so so fucking sorry i’m such an idiot.”

“matt, please it wasn’t your fault. but i am terrified, i don’t want to ever go back to school.” my voice cracks while trying to get through that sentence. matt doesn’t even utter another word before he tugs me into him, straddling him as he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug.

“i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t wanna face anyone after i left. when i walked in everyone was applauding and people shook my hand, i had no clue why until chris and nick texted me about it.”

his pure sincerity makes me suffocate him a little more not wanting anyone else around but him. he puts a hand around my cheek guiding it to him to kiss, i get a good look of his equally dishevelled face.

“we are so fucked.” i giggle a little thinking about how much a shit show this will be when we get back.

“is this what they mean in everything has changed that high school life would take a bad turn? because i’m happy to go through it if it means we get our happy ending. you’re my end, end game.”

“yes matt, this is everything. we are the happy ending. we are end game” my quivering lips connect with his.

[catboymoses]

Maybe a basic one but I'd love to hear your thoughts/analysis on Whizzer Going Down (in trousers)

I'd love to share it!! I usually focus more on Marvin's relationship with the ladies than Whizzer in In Trousers, so tell me what I missed in the notes guys. Using my '85 script bc it is designed to be easier to follow and has more detail.

Starting as always with what William Finn has to say:

Whizzer Going Down is the song that rekindles Marvin's giddiness, which the ladies tell us he hasn't experienced in a long time. The last scene he was in was on his wedding day, the day of his "death," so presumably his giddiness was the part of him that died that day and has now been restored.

The first verse tells us how little he thinks of Trina, acting as if she's no more important than Whizzer's cooking. Food represents love and Marvin says that love isn't sex, so I think these first lines also mean that they have great sex but that Whizzer doesn't give him the type of love he craves. This verse also establishes the push and pull in their relationship--for every positive there's a drawback, and that's part of the fun.

(Side note- imo Whizzer doesn't really hate Trina, he's hates Marvin's life choices and family charades. Marvin can't tell the difference bc he thinks of Trina as a lifestyle, not a person.)

Slipping out at night every now and then is easier for Marvin than properly dealing with his situation, and their setup is easy for Whizzer too- he's scared of emotional intimacy and commitment, so some casual fun (or so he tells himself) is as easy as it gets. "I care" contrasts all of this, because caring is the antithesis of ease.

Sweating, nail biting, and smoking are all nervous tells--they are both anxious, but for different reasons. I think "and then he takes me in his arms, and then he lights another cigarette" is Whizzer being anxious about starting to fall for Marvin, esp considering he doesn't usually smoke and the intimate touches that precede it. (+ ofc the cigarette innuendo I didn't forget lol)

Not sure what lying flat like a bad idea or the colors of his surroundings signify (pls tell me in the notes!!) but fighting is certainly a theme for them. Both fighting and giddiness are described as forms of passion in the source material.

"I think I'll die, die, die," reminds me of Marvin's first death in The Wedding Song, but this time it's a 'little death' that marks the beginning of his new life.

The scat break is when the ladies fully interrupt Marvin's activities, I think this is Marvin's guilt preventing him from moving on. It also explains his earlier line "I'd like so much to whizz without them there."

Ok I think this is all I have to say about whizzer going down!! Ty so much for the ask :):)

[chocol4tte]

I've been reading some of dimension travel with kakaobi (also, i only know some basic information and plot of Naruto, Im yet to read the manga (NOTE: ITS JUST THE BASE OF THE IDEA, THEY MIGHT BE SOME CHANGES LATER ON), but tbh, I would love to bring over team 7 to a world where:

Minato and Kashina are both alive, with Minato as the Hokage, but Naruto died as a baby due to some Chakra complications

The Uchiha clan is very much alive thank you

Obito and Rin are alive, except for Kakashi :)

Sakumo is alive, retired, and suffering~... he is one of Obito's favorite people

The Og!team 7, after fighting Kaguya and losing (Obito died a little earlier before he and Kakashi could even speak), using Kamui, they are transported to a different dimension without knowing it, thinking that maybe, they were send to a different.

When they realize that it's not their world, it becomes somewhat, bittersweet for most of the team.

The idea of Minato and Kushina crushed that their only son died and were too afraid to ever try again, that they focus their energy and love into their two remaining students. Kushina will always sigh at the sight of babies and kids, but will deny it (Kurama would try to feed her despair and fears bc he is still full of hatred). Minato would put his mind into Hokage mode to make sure he is distracted of kids laughs and playful screams; yet both still love each other very much.

Rin and Obito kind of became only friends, protective of each other as well, due to Kakashi's death; Rin is on her way to becoming a doctor, she is still very kind and sweet, yet firmer than ever. Obito started behaving a little but like Kakashi, more serious, punctual and with more discipline... I would love that at some point, he would've tried to become Kakashi, if not for Sakumo, who stopped him. (TBH, I kinda want to write this very much).

Sakumo didn't kill himself in this timeline, he lived with the shame of the failed mission, a disgraceful ninja who nobody wanted to look at. He lived to keep Kakashi safe until he became a proper adult, however Kakashi hated him because of his actions, and like the entire community, he decided to ignore Sakumo.

Like in Canon, Obito would most likely made Kakashi realize that Sakumo is indeed a hero despite no one saying the contrary.

Kakashi still loses his eye to protect Obito, from an attack and Obito is still half crushed by a rock and saved by Madara.

HOWEVER

Kakashi is kidnapped instead of Rin, he saved her and fought teeth and nails against the other ninjas...

Now, when Rin escaped, she was found by Sakumo, Minato and other shinobi, all going to defeat the enemy, unaware that Obito was also running to save his friends, however when they arrived they only found the corpse of little Kakashi

They never got to put the Three-tailed Beast inside of him, due to his insistant fighting Kakashi was killed and the plan was cancelled. Cue to Sakumo showing why he was the feared White Fang and going all out to avenge his son.

Obito arrives just when Sakumo and Rin are holding the lifeless Kakashi and welp... the rest is history.

Man, I love the idea of Sakumo taking care of Obito and teaching him through the years. Full of angst, fluff and heal. Both making sure of take care of the other mentally, emotionally and physically.

I'm thriving to imagine not only the reunion with all the people that they lost and the consequences!!!

Edit: check the tag: Tell me About Grief

[mcybree]

I prepared this ask in the Notes app only for Tumblr to not let me copy and paste the text so here’s a screenshot bc I’m not typing all that again lol

there’s this funny trend i see in trafficblr art, in that, when there’s a lineup of every past winner, most players will be surrounded by symbols that were relevant to their POV, and perhaps drawn with the last emotion they’d felt just before death (or maybe just whatever emotion the artist most associates with the character). The winners might be doing something, or in a pose that reflects how they won—there are a million ways to make a life series winners’ piece. What’s funny about it is that no one ever seems to know what to do with Scott. He’s most often just standing there looking mildly disgruntled. And for the symbols he’s most depicted with, it’s typically poppies, which are only relevant to the first season; last life scott does not place any importance on poppies, poppies dont ever come up beyond a brief interaction in episode 1, and jimmy as a whole is less relevant to scott’s pov in last life than he is in every other season.

not that this is an issue with the art; the pieces are beautifully done, it’s just representative of how little fandom discussion there is about scott’s win thematically. Most discussion I see are about the watchers and how they hate scott for defying him or whatever, but watcher lore is not discussion of the series itself as much as it is a fan creation that is retroactively applied to create meaning.

Scott’s Last Life win, to me, was achieved through accomplishing what Third Life Scott could not.

Scott spent 3L waiting for his day one ally to die. He kept Jimmy at a distance, often fully gearing himself up first before backtracking to help Jimmy along. There’s a funny disparity in episode 5, where Jimmy spends the entire episode trying to get good enchants on his iron armor, while Scott sets up a villager and gets good enchants for the full diamond set that he’d already had in storage, in about half the time Jimmy took trying to accomplish his own goal, iirc. This disparity is also something scott acknowledges with the “I’ll always be more powerful than you” line, but it’s been a while since ive written a post like this so i unfortunately do not have the episode number memorized on that one anymore. But Scott goes on to explain that he’ll always have better armor and weapons, which is why Jimmy could never kill him. This is all to say that Jimmy and Scott do not stand on equal grounds in their alliance, and, more importantly, Scott does not depend on Jimmy. The progress Scott makes in Third Life is entirely his own, with Jimmy as more of an afterthought than a teammate.

This is what landed Scott his all time lowest placement. After Jimmy dies first, Scott loses sight of his priorities and dedicates his remaining time alive to avenging Jimmy, rather than focusing on his own longevity (like he’d go on to do in future seasons). And, in that way, Scott’s attitude towards Jimmy (disposable, going to die, unreliable) was an indirect contributor to Scott’s low placement.

In contrast: Scott could not have won Last Life without Pearl. Scott has to rely on Pearl from day 1, having only two lives to start with himself. Pearl gives Scott two lives total. Pearl and Scott are almost always together. They made it to the final four by each other’s side. And that forced day 1 reliance on pearl breaks down the role scott typically assumes (*he’s* supposed to be the person people rely on, he’s supposed to be the one bringing everything to the table) which curbs his tendency to see himself as above others, which then allows for the most genuine happiness i have ever seen him have in an alliance.

The comparison between the way Scott talks to Pearl and the way Scott talks to Jimmy is like night and day. Scott doesn’t compliment or otherwise say anything supportive towards Jimmy (save for the “I believe in you! MCC has trained you for this moment!” during Jimmy’s dare to flare attempt) until after Jimmy has already died. With Pearl, however, Scott is much more open about his care towards her, saying that she’s his best friend and that he loves her as early as episode 2. There’s more examples but between last life and third life, Scott’s attitude towards his primary ally is completely different, and i think it’s symptomatic of Scott allowing himself to love and be vulnerable rather than keeping himself at a distance. And i think that it’s so special that scott won the season where he was so close with his day one alliance, directly because of his day one alliance.

because, to me, one of scott’s defining characteristics is his self reliance. He will have allies, yes, but he often assumes a supportive role and acts as a supplier. He doesnt like taking things from other people. Last Life is different because Scott relies on Pearl, too. It’s also not a coincidence that last life is the only season where scott is normal about jimmy but that’s a different post

tldr yes scott won last life with the power of love but not in the way people say he did (ignoring the boogeyman curse was strategy ☝️)

I SHOULD NOTE, though, that the boogeyman curse was still a fail. Although purposeful, Scott receives the penalty and apologizes to his team. He says he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. I do think that his words here aren’t fully honest— he’d admitted earlier that this choice was fully for strategy. But I also think his apologetic attitude here is genuine. Scott is a perfectionist, he needs to succeed; failing, though purposeful, still hurts. He feels the need to apologize. It means so much to me that his win in last life directly follows the choice to fail on purpose. I’m insane though idk

third life scott embodies scotts flaws while last life scott is him overcoming them 👍 is what im trying to say 👍 last life scott is everything that third life scott could not bring himself to be, in allowing himself to love and depend on other people and overall just be a person.

[bookwormbynight]

bookworm-san, dear mutual. do you happen to have any more fem! light headcanons/thoughts? for healing, for the soul……… 😌

Darling. Gimme just a second to reread my posts on the AU and get my brain juices going again 🙏

(Also, fun fact: I do actually have my name in my lil bio bit lol! I don't think most people notice.)

Fem!Light during the Yotsuba Arc may have been more aggressive than canon Light about separating herself from a relationship with Misa, simply because it isn't assumed that "well, I'm the one who must have asked... I just can't figure out why" because that's not how her relationship dynamics work. She doesn't remember saying yes, she can't imagine why she would have said yes, Misa is clearly delusional and can fuck right off. Her aggression might be the only reason why Misa wouldn't white-knight his way into stopping the mutual lawlight murder attempt on their first "date" lmao. I can clearly imagine him trying to heroically interject and protect his girlfriend only for Light to shriek "fuck OFF Misa" so 'unfemininely' that it takes Misa a full fifteen minutes to reboot lmao.

This is me projecting because I'm a 100 pound girl with a-cups but I want Light to have small boobs (also canon Light has a flat ass anyway). Let me sexualize my body type for once, gimme that. Tiny lace bralettes, zero cleavage through a shirt neckline, barely a handful of titty and you can probably fit most of the boob in your mouth, but anybody who's interested in her either doesn't notice or actively likes it.

On a related note, average-ish height, like canon, so like 5'4 or 5'5, but small person. If that makes sense. I want people to be able to just pick her up with minimal effort because that means it would happen more often (I have friends who literally just throw me over their shoulders and walk away without asking me first) and she would fucking hate it and I think that's hilarious.

Flats-only girlie. Coward. Until L bullies her into heels for fetish purposes ONCE and Light has trouble walking and it makes her red-faced angry embarrassed which does NOT deter L in the slightest.

I think she'd wear her hair half-up half-down in a neat little clip in the back with bangs, it's very Professional and Pretty and intentionally chosen. She pigtail braids her hair at night Cinderella-style to keep it nice and L finds it annoying. The only time we would see it down in the canon timeline would be in solitary confinement, and the rain + foot scene and proceeding death scene (because that was immediately after).

For her death scene in particular, I think her hair would start up, as it usually is, but it would definitely have gone really askew and fallen out of the clip by the time she dies.

I really can't decide how exactly her relationship with Ryuk would change based on her perception of gender dynamics but I'm absolutely sure it would, whether or not we genderbend Ryuk as well. Idk, someone else help me flesh this one out bc it's all just a nebulous feeling in my head.

The daddy issues. Dude. The daddy issues would be so bad. Like, we already had "I desperately want my dad to think I live up to his expectations of me + dad is too busy with his job all the time to feel like a legit regular part of the family". Now imagine that combined with the fact that Soichiro just assumes Light has Woman Brain. "It's wonderful that you're top of your class and you're getting a degree, all capable women should go to college, but don't you think you should pick a less demanding career path so you won't have such a hard time having a family one day?? It's really sweet that you want to follow in my career path honey but I don't know if this job is good for girls like you". That scene with Namikawa would happen and L would praise her like canon and Soichiro's jaw would fucking drop. Ugh.

On a similar note I absolutely do not think Light would be able to stomach playing up the "I'm JUST a GIRL I CANT be KIRA 🥺🥺🥺" schtick even to draw some of the suspicion off of herself because canon Light already had such a hard time literally just not showing off and now add in fem! Light's inferiority complex. She would get so salty every single time people suggested it's not possible for her to be Kira ""even though I'm not"". The ONLY times she would be willing to play up the canon ditz act is when it makes her look a little careless, NEVER stupid.

[dnbcoded]

cdnb prompt: after his first encounter with ctechno, cdream uses high heels shoes bc doesn't want to look so short next to him and in the middle of doomsday ctechno finds out about this

OK. Let me see if I still got it.

He doesn't notice, at first. There's too much more things going on in his life to even begin to think about it.

Dream's sudden growing sprout is one of those things that he misses in the middle of everything, but still takes notes, waiting for the second he can finally go hibernate and think about it. In fact, he was waiting for that little retrive to capture everything about Dream and just shove it in a box and stop having to take note of everything that Dream does.

He is not repressed, chat. Shut up.

He doesn't notice, and he plans on not noticing, until Dream's little grubby, greedy, slender and surprisingly well cared for hands--until Dream gets him involved like the meddlesome man he is. Suddenly they were walking towards L'manberg's demise as Dream has wanted since basically forever, and Techno realizes --only the slightless bit regretfully-- that he played right into his hand. With horror, he finds himself anything but angry at being so easily led to a solution that benefits Dream and only Dream; rather, he thinks it's a little endearing, and that cannot be possible.

He tried to remind himself about how terrible Dream is as they walk, but the man is anything but subtle, there's a pep to his step--hes practically walking without his soles touching the ground from how excited he is, and he's talking Techno's ear off about how he plans to build the platform for the bombs, and he can hear his shit-eating grin as he discusses how little of L'manberg there will be left.

He's only a pig, after all. So he takes note of all of it, and tries his best to ignore it. He ignores, too, the way they're basically the same size, towering over Philza who's actually doing his job at scouting the terrain so they're undetected at dawn. He pretends he just trusts Philza's judgement, and not that he's terribly charmed by the other man.

This wasn't always the case. Once upon a time, Dream was at least a foot shorter, and more irritating than lovely, and he didn't talk about destruction. There was a hesitancy that Techno recognized as human. He had overcome doubt, and thus, humanity--while remaining mortal. Techno... was intrigued by that. (He'll only stop denying this fleeting crush once it's efficiently death and the recipient of his current adoration is long gone, he promises.)

Now, he's tall and regal, and as deathly as ever. He's a wildfire, a burning lamp. Techno is better than a moth.

His eyes still rake over the figure as he starts towering up, occupying only the faint morning lights as guide. Techno notes the possible enchanted nature of his mask, and hates himself for it.

It's as he's watching, that he notices.

"Bro, are those high heels?" And all at once Dream's height makes sense, even though it shouldn't matter to Techno. He's still gawking at the man who's--blushing. That's a blush on the edge of his ears, not covered by a hoodie for once.

"That's--shut up, don't be an idiot." He hisses, his mask suddenly pointing towards Philza as if scared he'll hear. Oh, this is fascinating.

"Nothin' wrong with being fashionista, I tell you." Techno says, smug, leaning the faintest bit down to look at Dream directly. "But a man that's, ah, homeless... you would think he had better priorities than heels."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, I HAVE A HOUSE!" Dream shrills, effectively making Techno lean away. Then his arms cross on front of his torso, the picture of a diva. The heels are a deep green, and they click as he steps back. Oh, how didn't Techno notice?

You were trying hard not to notice, chat whispers. Then, of course, it notices it has Techno's attention. eee, EEE, DREAMSIMP, dream dream dream, Dream in chat, hi techno :), eeeE, STOP SIMPING.

"Not denying the fashionista allegations, I see." Techno replicates. His companion huffs, and then turns back to finally get to tower up. And this time Techno allows himself to notice the shape of his legs--and no, he's not being weird, Dream's ass is on the way okay-- and the way it curls with the distinct form of a trained heel wearer. Techno has no thoughts about Dream's skintight pants nor the way the heels are beautifully integrated into his body, to the clear attention to detail Dream used to pride in, that he still has.

Something in Techno's chest aches. But it's barely morning, and they have a job to do.

"If you wanted to see how it felt to be tall," he calls back, placing a lazy hand around to make his voice sound louder. "You could've just asked for me to carry you."

SHUT THE FUCK UP, Dream whispered in chat.