#hi is anyone with me. does Anyone else see the vision. hello for the love of god

[dve]

Nona the Ninth / Harrow the Ninth + reproduction, infancy, injustice

[wordsarelife]

—timeless

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco malfoy wouldn’t have thought to come across you in a dark magic shop or how eager he would be to marry you

notes: i changed it up a bit, i hope that’s alright

warnings: mentions of grooming, loved ones dying || navigation

the dim light of the street lantern was falling into the window of the dark magic shop. the wind hit the bells behind the door when it got opened, making them chime a melodic melody.

“hello?” a voice asked.

you looked up from the paper on the counter and searched for the person that had just come through the door. it wasn’t long until draco malfoy entered your field of vision.

“l/n?” he asked surprised when his eyes fell on you.

“malfoy” you noted. his hair was as light as ever, but he looked a bit healthier since the last time you had seen him, which arguably wasn’t the best. it had been the final fight and you had watched him being walked away by his parents.

“what are you doing here?” he proceeded to ask “i wouldn’t have thought that someone like you would come anywhere near this shop”

you hadn’t been friends at hogwarts. quite the opposite really. you had always belonged to ron, hermione and harry, while draco had made it his mission to torture them.

although you had always been by their side, he had never once said anything about you. probably because even draco malfoy pitied you, like the rest of the school.

your parents had been brutally killed by death eaters during your second year in hogwarts. even though you hated to see the pity in people's eyes, you had never noticed it when he looked at you. it was just silence, like he had not a single thought in his head whenever he would look at you, as if looking at you would silence the rest of the world.

you had always looked at bit smaller, a bit more fragile than your classmates. so fragile, not even draco malfoy dared to break you.

“my uncle bought the shop last year” you answered truthfully “and as i’m staying with him..” you trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.

“aha” malfoy nodded, and having decided that that was enough smalltalk either of you could endure, without growing uncomfortable, his hand went to the bag he was carrying and took something out.

he set the object down on the counter in front of you. it looked like a normal mirror, but it was black and you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good to search for your reflection.

“it’s my fathers” malfoy said after a few seconds of silence, before he cleared his throat “it was my fathers”

“oh” was all you could say.

“i’m trying to sell a few of his belongings.. that are on the darker side” his eyes found yours as he finally looked up “i don’t think anyone would be particularly happy about us still keeping those things”

“yeah, no” you agreed, gently taking the mirror into your hands.

“what does it do?” malfoy asked and you furrowed you eyebrows, surprised that he was asking you.

“nothing good” you said vaguely, watching his eyes darting over the object in your hands “it’s corruption” you concluded “every object of dark magic just corrupts the soul and in comparison, what they can do is just not worth it”

“i know” malfoy nodded quickly, his eyes returning to watch you instead of the mirror.

you wrapped it up in some paper and taped it shut, so no one was dared to look at it.

“that’s why i’m selling it” he said “that’s why i’m selling all of these things my father owned. it will just take me some time to find all of them”

“okay” you nodded, not sure what you could say instead.

“i just have the mirror with me today, i wanted it out of the house as soon as i found it” he added quickly. it seemed like not saying anything was motivation enough for him to talk.

or maybe, what you didn’t know was that he had so much to say, because he couldn’t tell it to anyone else. there were just him and his mother in that dark house and he wouldn’t try to talk to her about any of this. she had been through enough.

to his surprise he found a bit of comfort in your warm eyes, making it almost impossible for him not to tell you everything. and it was weird that you were harry potters best friend of all people. but you were friendly and you were here, so he didn’t care.

maybe he had never really cared that he should not be feeling about you this way.

you took out a book that seemed so old, that it almost fell apart when it hit the counter and turned the pages to find the price range for the dark magical object that was still laying next to you.

malfoy was watching you in complete silence and before he could question if the mood had shifted to become uncomfortable, a happy squeal broke out of your lips.

“i got it!” you smiled, pointing at the top of the page. malfoy tried to bend his head to look at it, before you were finally friendly enough to turn the book in his direction.

“huh” malfoy nodded “it's more than i thought it would be worth”

“that's quite common with these objects” you smiled happily and malfoy mirrored your expression. he was a bit surprised you were smiling at him, but it seemed like you didn’t harbour any hard feelings towards him.

he remembered you clearly, a few months ago at hogwarts, standing on the stairs, your braid ripped apart, lose strands of hair flowing in the wind. your face filled with dirt. there had been blood coming from a cut in your lip.

he wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it, but for a split second, your eyes fell on him. standing on opposite sides, tears brimming and flowing over your cheeks quickly.

maybe you had been the sole reason for him to throw his wand at harry potter. maybe he had done it because it had felt like you had asked him to.

how could he ever ignore the calling of a beautiful girl, standing in the middle of a war, crying for him to do something?

“thank you” he nodded when you passed him the galleons. he walked back to the door, feeling your eyes on him.

“draco” you called and he turned around quickly. he had never heard his first name coming out of your mouth. it sounded so beautiful when you said it. so soft and gentle, almost like it wasn’t a curse. “thank you”

no, he had not only imagined it.

draco smiled at you and nodded. he left the shop without another word.

it only took him about a day to come back. he spent more than just a few hours searching the house for more of his fathers artifacts, storing them away safely, so he could bring in one at a time. he wasn’t sure why, but the possibility of seeing you excited him. making his days bearable.

“draco” you greeted when he entered the shop. he was almost glad that you stuck to calling him by his first name.

“hello” draco nodded, he wasn’t daring enough to use your first name just yet.

“you came back quicker than i had thought”

just because of you, draco thought to himself, just nodding to you, as if that was answer enough.

just like the day before, his visit didn’t take long. with you inspecting the artifact, taking out the book and giving him his galleons before he could even ask you anything.

he made sure to bring more than just one object when he came in the next day.

“how have you been?” he asked as he watched you turn the pages of the book.

you shrugged, not quite sure what to answer “harry, ron and hermione went back to hogwarts, so it’s a bit lonely, but it’s alright”

it astonished him how often you spoke about your friends. you had even done that during your time in hogwarts, a bit like you were always dependent on them.

“why didn’t you?” he wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line.

“huh?” you looked up at him “went back to hogwarts?” you asked and his smile died down when you began to laugh. “no” you shook your head and he recognized the sadness quickly wandering over your face.

“and why—“ before he could finish his question, you had taken out the galleons and held them in his direction.

“here” you interrupted.

he left the shop with an uneasy feeling, scared he might’ve offended you. but everything was back to normal when he came in the next day and the few following after that.

it had been three weeks of him visiting the shop regularly, his mother already wondering what he was doing there so often, when for the first time it wasn’t you behind the counter, but an elderly man.

draco waited patiently at the door, as another costumer was standing at the counter.

“where is y/n, cornelius?” he could hear the man ask. he was well into his thirties, looking a bit too old to have any connection to you, but maybe you were just as friendly with him as you were with anyone else and draco really wanted to know the answer to his question.

“oh” the bearded man, probably cornelius, behind the counter shook his head “she went off to collect a few things that we need”

“that’s a pity” the costumer noted “i had hoped to see her beautiful face one of these days”

draco grimaced at that. he ignored the costumers greeting, before the man left the shop.

“hello” cornelius waved at draco to come forward.

“afternoon” draco greeted.

“draco malfoy, right?” the man asked “y/n told me about you coming in and selling your father’s artifacts”

“that’s right, sir” draco nodded.

“you two went to hogwarts together, didn't you?” cornelius smiled “i’m her uncle, cornelius barnes”

“it’s very nice to meet you, mr barnes” draco shook the man’s hand “is y/n alright?” somehow he could sense that barnes answer to the strange man’s question had been a lie.

“yes” barnes nodded “she’s just in the back. she’s not fond of hector” he pointed to the door.

“ah” draco nodded. he could understand that you’d rather hide away as soon as that man came into the shop, even draco found him uncomfortable.

“he’s been wanting to marry her” barnes continued and draco wondered if it was in the man’s nature to just tell private things to costumers or maybe, draco was the closest thing to a friend y/n had right now, considering the rest of them had went off to hogwarts.

“isn’t he at least ten years older than her?” draco wondered.

“twenty” barnes corrected and draco shivered. “sad enough that she’s actually considering it”

draco’s chin had almost hit the counter at that “what?” he asked outraged “why would she ever marry someone— like that” he finished quickly.

“i’ve been trying to talk her out of it, but she’s always been too selfless for her own good. she didn’t even go back to hogwarts”

“i had figured she didn’t want to”

barnes shook his head “she decided against it. i wish it wasn’t like that, but money is tight and y/n wants to do anything possible to save me” he pointed down to his leg “i’m not as fit as i was a few years ago”

draco nodded understandingly.

“she’s convinced that her marriage to a man like hector could help me” barnes shook his head sadly “i wish she wouldn’t feel as responsible for me and rather find a man she could have an equal relationship with, someone that could bring her comfort after my death, someone she could actually love”

“yeah” draco nodded and mirrored the man’s sad expression. he left the shop a few minutes later, the galleons clinking together in his pocket, which made him even sadder, feeling like he was robbing you and your uncle of your last money.

it took him more than just a few days to return back to the shop, carefully thinking about how he could help you best.

“draco” you smiled when he entered the shop and he could almost read the relief from your face. “it’s alright, uncle cornelius” you patted your uncles shoulder “you can sit down in the back, i will take care of it”

barnes greeted draco, before he limped into the back of the shop.

“he’s really nice” draco said as soon as the door to had closed.

“yeah” you smiled and draco noticed how much you admired the old man “sadly we all can’t stay young for forever”

draco nodded.

you looked at him expectingly “what?” you smiled “no dark magical object?”

“not quite, no” draco shook his head, before he took out the velvet box and set it down on the counter in front of you.

“what’s that?” you asked surprised. he looked at you and nodded when you went to open the box. a beautiful ring was shimmering so much it almost blended you. “a ring?” you wondered “okay, which curse was it hexed with?”

draco shook his head. “it’s my mothers. it’s not cursed..” he thought for a short second, before he added “or magical”

“draco?” you asked and he admired how his name slipped past your lips so effortlessly, so gentle it reminded him of his first visit to the shop and the shiver he had felt every time you had said it since.

“marry me” draco said a bit faster than anticipated.

“what?” you laughed, entirely astonished at his demand.

“your uncle told me about the money problems you had” he quickly explained “i get access to my father’s assets as soon as i’m twenty-five or sooner if i get married before that”

“my uncle told you that?” you repeated faintly.

“yeah, but it’s not a problem”

you looked up at him with big eyes. “you can’t just barge in here and ask me to marry you.. you can’t just come in here and save me.. that’s not how that works, draco” you shook your head and his heart sank.

“why not?” he wondered “i’d be ready to do that for you. you need money and i have it”

“draco” you touched his hand softly “i don’t want to get married out of convenience” you explained.

“but you're thinking about marrying hector?” he raised his voice.

“he really told you everything, huh?” you muttered, looking back at the door to the private area of the shop.

“y/n!” draco called and your eyes focused back on him.

“that’s different” you tried to escape his eyes.

“how is that any different? at least i’m not twenty years old than you!” draco argued “so you’d rather get married to that disgusting—“

“yes!” you interrupted and your voice was now matching the loudness of his. “you can’t just decide to marry me because it’d be the right thing to do!”

“but it is” he shook his head “i’m trying to help you. marrying me would benefit you”

“but i don’t want to get married to you like that” the sentence had left your mouth faster than you had been able to stop it, immediately making you close it and look down. right at the velvet box and the ring that was still sitting in the middle of you.

“what?” draco asked surprised.

you sighed “i don’t care about marrying hector out of convenience, but i would care if it was you”

the smile broke out quickly on draco’s face. “you would want to marry me?” he asked “but only for the right reasons?”

“i wasn’t talking about a marriage just yet” you raised your finger and corrected him “but i wouldn’t want to destroy that option just because i could profit from it. and if i would get married to you, it surely wouldn’t be because of your money”

draco almost recognized something in your eyes. something that you saw in him that no one ever did. and even though he had never seen it before, it felt familiar and safe. “do you think you could ever love me?” he asked unsurely. maybe he was just interpreting this conversation wrong.

“i think i have loved you longer than what was probably healthy for me” you whispered, leaning on the table and resting your chin on top of your hand. “do you think you could ever love me?” you repeated his question.

his smile grew impossibly bigger. “i don’t think i could even stop if i wanted to”

he was ready to jump over the counter, to hold you close and kiss you, to make all the bad years disappear.

but before he could do anything of that sort, you smiled and closed the box containing the ring, pushing it in his direction.

“so marriage is off the table?” he asked faintly.

“not completely” you smiled “but how about you take me on a date first?” you suggested.

“okay” he smiled, then he looked around the room. there was still your problem, the one that had provoked him to ask for your hand in marriage in the first place. “i think i know someone who would buy a few of these artifacts, for more than just their market price”

“you do?” you wondered and he nodded. it was like a weight had been lifted off you shoulders. or maybe for the first time in a long time, someone else knew what to do.

you went around the corner and hugged him. he held your head in his hands, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he finally kissed you. soft and gentle, making a shiver run down your spine.

after all, everything became better than you had hoped it to be. you returned to hogwarts, just having missed two months of classes that you had caught up to quicker than you had been able to worry about it.

draco had started finishing his education from afar, while helping your uncle to sell most of the magic items and finally deciding on new things to sell, completely updating the place until it was filled with costumers coming in all the time.

it took a few more years, but soon enough draco proposed to you again. and in the summer of the year 2002, y/n l/n married draco malfoy for only the right reasons.

[junkdrawerfics]

hello!! i had a request for jasper, if that’s ok? i was thinking about him with an entirely oblivious reader. alice knows they’re meant to be together, and just cannot fathom how reader is this clueless to jasper’s flirting? LMAO esp with that southern charm and the fact that he’s actually talking to someone outside of his family 😭 just know id be blissfully unaware that man’s even interested even if he was breathing down my neck and his family is practically tearing their hair out atp 😭

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: You're oblivious. That's it. And it drives the Cullens (+ Bella) crazy. Jasper has to take a far more direct approach to get through to you.

Word Count: 1846

Note: I hope this works for what you were requesting! It was a fun write, I always like playing with different perspectives and even writing scenes without the reader directly in it.

---

“Anyone would think they’re dating,” Alice sighs in exasperation.

Bella follows the vampire’s gaze, noticing you and Jasper standing close together at your car. You’re gesturing wildly, eyes wide, excitement pouring off of you like usual. And Jasper’s just listening, a soft smile on his lips, one she’s only ever seen when the blond’s with you.

“Most of the school does,” she corrects, shoving her hands in her pockets, “Jessica brings it up all the time and Angela says she had to fight Eric to keep it out of the paper.”

Alice snorts softly, the sound somehow delicate. The humans love gossiping about their family, a fact that is unchanging wherever they go. She’s heard more than a few rumors about the two of you, and Jasper probably has too. You, however, remain blissfully unaware.

In her entire century of life, she had never met someone so completely oblivious.

“Does she know he’s flirting with her?” Bella asks, her brow furrowing as Jasper tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while you just keep talking a mile a minute, totally unphased. You, the girl who gets flustered at the drop of a hat with everything else.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Alice chirps matter-of-factly, “She has no clue that he likes her. It’s kind of sweet. But also maddening.”

“You’ve seen something about them?”

“Of course I have.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “It’s not even that, though! I don’t need a vision to know they’re perfect for each other. They’re both absolutely smitten with each other, but she’s even more oblivious than you.”

“Hey-!”

Jasper chuckles under his breath. You pause, head tilting as you follow his flickering gaze to the two girls standing at the other side of the lot. Alice has her hands propped on her hip, a smirk adorning her features as Bella turns impossibly red.

Curiosity washes over you. Eagerly, you whip back to Jasper. “What are they talking about?” 

“Bout you and me it seems, and they’re arguin’ about how…observant Bella is,” he murmurs, amusement clear in his tone.

You blink, pursing your lips a little, “They were talking about us?” 

“They were just wonderin’ if we are goin’ to the fall festival,” he lies smoothly. Jasper has no desire to expose you to the ugly rumor mill of this town. “What do you say, darlin? Want to go with me?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about that all week!” You squeak, confusion disappearing just like that.

The smile you give him is so bright, so genuine, it could cripple a weaker man. The blond has to bite his tongue, though, the desire to lean down and kiss you pulling at his chest viciously. He wants to see if your smile tastes as sweet as it looks…

 “We could see if they want to join us!” You continue, clapping your hands like a little kid. “Maybe that’s why they were talking about us. Oh, it’d be so fun to go as a group!”

The groan from across the parking lot is audible even to you.

---

“Gaaaahhh-”

Your groan gets cut off when you flop onto your bed and land face first in your fluffy comforter. It practically swallows you whole, you almost wish it would.

Bella watches, lips curling in amusement as she gently drops her backpack down and perches herself at your desk, “Jasper again?”

“-e’s su niiithee,” you whine, voice muffled.

“Try again.”

You turn over on your back, pouting at the ceiling, “He’s so nice.”

“He is.” Bella draws her knees up to prop her chin on and waits. The rant is inevitable.

“No, like, he’s so nice. You don’t understand, Bells.” You throw your arms in the air, letting them fall to the bed dramatically. “I’ve never met someone who’s just so nice. And he’s so pretty and charming and sometimes I just wish I could jump on him and hold on like a koala.”

“You could,” she points out, not missing a beat.

Propping up on your elbows, you can’t help but gasp at her, cheeks going positively red, “No I can’t! That would totally freak him out!”

“I think he’d like it more than you think.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your hands fly to your face, as if covering it will stop the blush from spreading down your neck. “You’re so mean to me, Bells. So crude.”

Bella snorts, “That’s not crude. And you’re oblivious.”

“Hello!” You yelp, sitting up. “Kettle calling the pot black!”

“It’s the other way around, actually.”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, flopping back down. Your thoughts are always a mess when it comes to Jasper, and everyone teasing you like this doesn’t help. It’s easy when you’re with him, you kind of just forget about it all. He’s your best friend, afterall. A frown pulls at your lips. “And I’m not oblivious. We’re just really close friends. I think I’d know if he liked me or something…”

Bella has never been so close to strangling someone.

---

Eventually, a Cullen family meeting has to be held about the issue, despite Jasper’s reluctance.

“She’s clueless,” Bella groans, dropping onto the couch next to Edward.

Emmett snickers from his seat with Rosalie, “I thought we already knew that?”

“We did.” Alice sighs as if she’s mourning the thought. “But we’re afraid it’s worse than we originally thought. The girl is hopeless.”

“She is not,” Jasper chides, lingering on the edge of the group. A part of him doesn’t like having his family in the middle of this. It’s his relationship, or lack thereof. He hates feeling infantilized.

“Hush, Jasper.” Alice waves him off, earning a scowl from the blond. “You’re hopeless in your own ways. This is about (Y/n).”

“So what should we do?”

Jasper forces himself to take a long, calming breath. They mean well, he knows that. They always do. But their methods are usually far too…exaggerated. He might have considered asking for Esme’s advice, perhaps even Carlisle, but not Emmett, and most certainly not Alice. This is his decision to make, and he needs to go about it in his own way.

“Oh! Maybe we can hire someone-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts, cutting off whatever wild plan Emmett has concocted, drawing the family’s attention to himself. Jasper straightens up, giving them all a pointed look, “This is my business, and I will be taking care of it as I see fit. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary.”

“What are you going to do, honey?” Esme speaks her first words of the evening, voice gentle and unassuming as always.

The blond softens, giving her a faint smile, “I’ll be straight with her.”

“But-” 

“Stay out of it, Alice.” The little ravenette pouts, though her eyes dance with excitement. A little push was all he needed, it seems. “It won’t do me any good if she learns of my feelings from one of you. It needs to be me. Even if I have to lay myself out plain for her to see.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want, son,” Carlisle hums, relieved to take a step back. He wasn’t a fan of this plan from the start.

“It is.”

And it’s true. At one point, it didn’t feel like he had much control of his life, but now he does. And now he has you. It may just be a ‘matter of time’ thing, according to Alice’s vision, but he wants to do this right, at his own pace. 

Now, it’s just a question of how.

---

“Darlin…can we talk?”

“We are talking,” you giggle, writing down another formula.

“I mean a more serious talk.”

You blink, looking up from your chem textbook to meet a pair of nervous, gold eyes. Nervous? Jasper is nervous? Your brows furrow, concern immediately sparking in your chest.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, notes forgotten and thrown to the side. You can always study later. “What’s up, Jasper?”

“Everythin’s alright, just-” Jasper settles on the bed in front of you. He keeps a respectable distance, but reaches across to take your hand in his. You freeze. Eyes wide, you can’t stop yourself from staring at it. Your hands. Together. He’s holding your hand. Why is he holding your hand?

“Darlin?”

“Huh?” Oh right. You drag your gaze back up to him, catching a flicker of an amused smile on his lips. A blush creeps up your neck and you smile apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, um, what’s up?”

“I have something important to tell you,” he explains, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that is far too distracting. 

It helps calm your racing heart, though, because a part of you is terrified. You have no clue what he could possibly want to talk about that would warrant such seriousness. Unconscious, you end up holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I like you, darlin.”

What?

You pause. Process. Confusion swirls through your concern.

“I like you too, Jazz, you’re my best friend,” you chime, tone completely lost and befuddled.

An incredulous laugh breaks past Jasper’s wall of nerves. The tension drips from his shoulders. It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that he feels like he can finally say everything he’s ever wanted to say.

“I’m ‘fraid you don’t understand, darlin,” he hums, giving you one of those gorgeous, slanted grins that make your heart melt. And the way you cock your head at him, eyes doe-ish and soft, does the exact same thing to him. “I want to take you on a date. I want to open doors for you and walk you to your porch afterwards. Maybe give you a goodnight kiss and watch you go inside. You drive me mad, darlin. I like you so much, it’s taking everythin’ in me not to kiss you right now.”

What?

Your head spins. It’s difficult to even process what he’s saying, everything swimming through your head at a dizzying pace. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“You-” You falter, “You want to- to what?”

Finally.

Jasper smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip erratically, “I want to kiss you sugar. And trust me, it is mighty hard to control myself.”

“Okay um…” You scream silently in your head. Jasper wants to kiss you. Jasper likes you. He likes you. And you like him. “So, you- okay, I have no clue what to do now. I like you too, a lot. Which you probably knew. Wow. I can’t believe I didn’t…”

“Everyone tried tellin’ you,” Jasper chuckles, leaning back.

“I know! I just, I thought they were all teasing me, you know? Cause I like you,” you explain lamely, pouting a bit in disbelief. All this time, you could have just told him! “I just can’t believe how oblivious I was.”

“Trust me, darlin, none of us can. I have one more question for you, though.”

“What?”

“Will you give me the great pleasure of takin’ you on a date?”

You bite your lip, but it does nothing to stop the smile from spreading across them.

“Of course!”

---

I hope you guys liked this one! It was a fun one, though it took me a while!

[kurosstuff]

Lute x fallen angel! Reader: Fallen

Short fic- tell me what you think! Hope you all enjoy it-!

Summary" lute SHOULD hate you. But. How can she?

HEAVY SPOILERS MENTIONED LIKE AKL OVER(in this like one?) IDK PLEASE. ALL HAZBIN FICS I WRITE ARENT SPOILER FREE UNLESS I STATE THAT IT IS. YOUVE BEEN WARNED

Warning(s): blood/fights, love at first sight, maybe ooc lute? Idk yoy tell me I never wrote her, heartbreak, also from my knowledge? Wing movements(from birds please correct me on the info if I do it wrong I do not own birds) in denial, Adam and his vulgur language

Ngl I love lute-

Lute a cruel sadistic woman. Odd place for a woman in heaven. But given her status as the leader of the executioners. The one who leads the battles against those vile sinners. Who trains the angels picked to fight herself. The woman second in command to Adam himself.

It's a fitting role.

Never in a million years(and she HAS been around for that long. Or so she lost track of such a useless thing) would she? A ruthless exterminator encounter this thing other fully pure angels speak of.

Love

Why would she? Lute is a fighter. A warrior. The one who Adam HIMSELF entrusts his life too. Why would she fall for anyone? She doesn't even know if she CAN feel such a thing.

But as always- Life(or afterlife?) Is full of surprises. She was well aware of a new angel coming in. Recently passed in some horrific accident she doesn't care for the details just knows- need to pick them apart see if their ruthless enough to fight. But the second she went into the room her eyes widden- an odd feeling in her chest as If her heart- her cold heart was heating up.

"Hello~ are you uh Lute?" You asked shyly- which given the situation even the most outgoing would be just as shy. She blinked, glad for the mask to hide the flushed expression - the confusion on it.

Clearing her throat, she nods slowly, ensuring you saw "I am. Welcome to Heaven, " she greeted uncharacteristically polite- gentle. If you were to be mistaken, she ignored the odd look Adam gave her, looking at the name tag, even your name is pretty- she blinked.

What?

She did NOT just think that. She did NOT Find you pretty. Gorgeous. She does NOT notice how your eyes sparkle how friendly your smile is as you both talked. She most certainly doesn't notice how your wings are the single most gorgeous pair she's ever seen. How white it is- signaling how pure you are. How the gold etched into it- putting to shame her grey and black wings- smiling soft behind her mask. How how she wishes to touch the- she stops she will NOT think that

-

It became as clear as day to her and anyone else. Lute? Is inlove. And not just anyone. The new angel- the kind soul who? Adam states follows her around like a lost puppy or in Adam's kind words "Hey look. It's lutes bitch!" Oh how she wishes to punch him everytime- hit that smug look off. But she won't. Not yet.

A common tradition in heaven- like the birds in the human realm(maybe a odd similarity she presumed. She doesn't care for the human realm after all) finding a mate, a lover with the most gorgeous wings. It was no surprise you gained such attention

Much to her displeasure.

Grumbling watching as how you yet again were surrounded by angels around you- and ad always rejecting them before that smile she oh so adored. Yet would never state aloud was sent her way- making her scowl darkly(but on the inside? She was warm) quickly making your way to her she noticed how you fidgeted. How red you were "out with it. What is it?" She grumbled out no matter how warm and soft she was on the inside? Her words on the outside could never match. No matter how she wished it

White cleared her vision making her back up scrunching her nose before finally realizing what it was- a feather. Not just any old feather. Your feather "i.. i want you to have it.. I know the meaning bur when I was preening my wings u couldn't help it.. I want you to have my feather" they whispered watching as she gently took the feather.

Silently accepting them courting her with a soft smile. Maybe she can make it a necklace?

-

As great as it was up there. There were rules. Easy to forget. Easy to break. But rules nonetheless. Once Adam instructed her to strip a betrayers wings, Lute sighed. Grumbling loudly going to the room. Ignoring the odd almost somber pitiful look Adam gave her. Hiding the feather in her shirt tucked safe near her heart, she hummed, stepping inside fixing her helmet before freezing

"No-"

Her heart dropped paling more then she was already at the bloodied sight

"NO WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!"

She roared storming to your bloodied frame she couldn't help but break her never-ending composure for the first time, kneeling to your side "do you HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA WHAT THIS MEANS?" She snarled ripping her mask off showing her teary face. Knowing her counter was now a sinner. Her angel was a traitor. A million emotions went through her head glaring down at you with every emotion but the one she should feel.

It wasn't hate.

She ignored her feelings, swallowing it down she ignored the reasoning of what you did. Of what you SAID. putting her mask on, she steeled herself. She was an executioner. A peacemaker. She takes care of the issue. So she pushed you down with her foot grabbing your once gorgeous wings now bloodied gold- in her one hand grabbing her spear she sliced. Ignoring how she was covered in your blood. The deafening screams of pain. Of agony. How you begged for her. She took a sigh taking her mask off giving you the chance to se her one last time. Without the mask. How she stared cold at you.

Before the ground opened up, "lute. Before I go- please I lo-" she cut you off, kicking you in. Closing her eyes as the ground closed. For the first time ever. She fell to her knees, holding the now broken wings sobbing out for a sinner. How was she not a sinner to for showing the regret. Showing the selfishness in this?

~~

It wasn't long before she saw you again. Traveling down with Adam to meet with Charlie and her girlfriend- to Lute it was a vile relationship. Not because of the sex- no- because of the liar Vaggie is. How that bitch betrayed her kind and then fell for the ruler of hells daughter. She could almost laugh.

Blinking, ignoring the yelling match of Adam and Charlie. Looking out the window, she froze mouth wide open- even though the demons back was turned. No wings but a tail and horns. She knew that laugh. She knew that smell. No matter how different you looked. Eyes soft watching you turn. Even as a demon. You truly are a beautiful creature. She softened her gaze behind her mask before looking away in disgust. Not with you.

But herself.

Lute a angel? Finds a demon attractive. Sure it's you but. Your a demon. A angel and demon together is vile. Disgusting in all sense of the worse.

But even now. She can't help but still long for you. Long for the almost relationship. Frowning, she looked back at Adam, who watched her with a frown. She knew they'd have a talk. Sighing, she followed after him with a deep sigh

She truly wished this outcome was different. How she longs to see you once more. Touching the feather on her chest she sighs

The only way she would be with you. Is if she was fallen as well. What a cruel irony.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

hello howl! do you have any favorite hcs of killer that you or someone else created? do yap if there's a lot, my brain is deprived of killer🥺

Alright, this are mostly about Stage 2 because he’s on my mind. Feel free to add on with yalls own killer hcs.

1. That Killer has ADHD. Probably a stereotype born from fanon killer’s personality, but I like it if it’s done well. (Which i rarely see, but that has been changing recently!)

2. That killer is some degree of blind or in general has a hard time seeing. Makes me think his other senses would be a lot better than his sight—especially his vision worsens depending on what Stage he’s in.

3. That he and Chara did pinky wears and the pink swears were sacred—not capable of being broken or the other has the right to kill or torture the snitch however they want. (My HC.) (Alexa play secret)

4. That Chara gave Killer Asriel’s half of the heart locket/golden locket, the one that said “bffs forever.” Especially if Killer has come to associate it with control, and it’s the only way to gain control over a Killer who has been stuck in Stage 4.

5. That his SOUL is a record player of all his victims dying, fearful, hurt, painted, angry, hateful and frantic words. Or at least Killer thinks it is—as he constantly hears them in his head whenever he attempts to resist killing or hurting anyone in Stage 1, and the constant flood of internal degradation is overwhelming enough to trigger Stage 4. The last part seems be somewhat canon, but the record player isn’t.

6. Cannibal Killer, started by me, holds a little place in my heart.

7. Cathearted and Angelkin Killer. Love it. Angelkin was @justanidiotartist’s idea.

8. Princess Killer. As in there is a timeline where he and Chara overthrew Asgore’s rule and became the royals of the Underground for a time.

9. That a part of Killer’s conditioning and training was being taught royal etiquette by Chara. It was framed and hidden under the disguise of learning something new, and a game— a way to keep Killer entertained and avoid boredom, therefore keeping him stable while implementing further rules and structure—but of course it had its typical violence and the use of Resets was often if Killer ever made a mistake or forgot a single thing.

He was taught to hold himself and carry himself as “something more,” above the others in the Underground, but never above Chara and not as real as anyone else.

His spine is always straight, trying to maintain a composed demeanor even when leaning into his silly behavior and extroverted mask. He eats his food in a very specific practiced manner without conscious thought, using his hands and utensils in a specific way.

He only eats when the “Queen” (Chara, Nightmare) eats, and stops when they stop—regardless of if he’s finished or not. Sarcastic, overly exaggerated bowing and signs of deference towards Nightmare—“Your Majesty,” “Your Highness,” in a deadpan, sarcastic manner.

And this one’s a bit more canon, but he copies and mimics Chara’s ways of speaking in a formal manner— such as how he says “greetings” instead of “hello” or “hey.” Often more obvious when addressing those he views higher and above him, or when stressed.

Maintaining old habits of perfectionism and cleanliness despite appearing outwardly apathetic, as if he doesn’t really know why he does it, he just does. His spaces are to be ordered and clean, all gear and weapons done in a certain way, and it’s probably more than once he’s corrected the others gang members postures and manners of eating or speaking.

One thing Chara never managed to make him stop doing was putting his hands on the table. He did that then and he’ll keep doing it. (Somewhat canon. Bro always has his hands on the table.)

10. Killer has the same fascination with the number 9 that Chara does. My HC.

11. Killer with schizoid personality tendencies. My HC. (Bit more complicated than that.)

12. Killer is subconsciously drawn to heart imagery—especially upside down hearts. He will often absentmindedly trace them on his bones/carve them, or draw on paper. It calms down his body. Especially after having failed some type of mission—both when killing or refusing to kill.

13. He stims. They’re small and not noticeable if you aren’t looking, easily dismissed as something else, but he stims. My HC. (I like to think his whole clasping hands over the soul/chest in prayer gesture is a happy stim and a nervous one. And also finger guns.)

14. He is a romantic. But only in his own head and fantasies.

15. Golden flower tea..yum.

16. He treats his weapons and animals better than he treats actual people or himself.

17. Stage 2 will blatantly ignore you if you try to call him Sans. (Somewhat canon.)

18. Stage 2 is mostly apathetic and indifferent but also distrustful of children. My Hc.

19. Chara and Killer’s relationship has been through just about any type of dynamic you can think of. Creator/creation, parent/child (both have played this role), teacher/mentee, enemies, friends, partners. Anything but equals.

20. He is actually very good at knife tricks. Will only fail when he wants to cut himself on purpose, or wants to make someone laugh.

21. Actually a pretty good caretaker, at least physically. Mentally and emotionally tending to a patient needs some work.

22. GNC fashionita.

23. Believes having no needs will make him invulnerable and free.

24. That a more humanized Killer would have long black hair he styles in many different ways. Also that he has a hooked nose and still doesn’t look entirely human.

25. The idea that he gives himself something like tattoos that remind him of Color in his Good Ending. Gradient flaming heart rainbows like Jinx’s blue cloud tattoos. My HC.

26. Catlike behaviors. Yeah. Including being very petty and causing problems for no obvious reasons.

27. Various forms or presentations of pet or age regression depending on the Stage.

28. Hates feeling too exposed physically. ✨ body issues ✨

29. Would’ve thrown the comfort plushie Color gave to him for when he’s Stage 1 away if it the plushie didn’t have an excellent texture. (Is the reasoning he gives.)

30. Acts of service. Just come to him instinctively. Very parentified eldest daughter coded I think.

[bootlegramdomneess]

Hello! If is okay I would like to ask you something about how you interpret this aspect of show as a therapist.

Why do you think is Sydney the one that calls Carmy’s panick attacks? (the one in opening day, and that moment in “doors” when she calms him down when he is screaming they are to slow, and because of her, he calms down and the frantic music stops)

Does it had to do with love (even though I also think they are in love) or is because of trust and the bond they share? Secure attachment kind of thing? Is it because the particular type of abuse he has suffered? Or is something about Sydney’s personality? Would love your take on that.

Thank you 🙏🏼

ooo. Thanks for the question. Okay, there are a lot of layers to this

In season one we see Sydney coming into the beef during a time where Carmy was trying to get everyone to understand what he was trying to do, and meeting Sydney, he saw she understood where he was coming from. It had to be a big relief. I think Carmy comes from a space of feeling as though no one truly understands him or who he is. I think meeting Sydney was a shock to his system because here was someone who understood what he was trying to do at the Beef. Here was someone who shared the same vision as him. Similar ideas. Similar plans. Who is passionate about cooking. Here was a person who knew the part of his life (Being a chef) he didn't share with anyone. As time went on, he connected with her on a professional level, he depended on her, he relied on her in a way, i think, he never has with anyone in the kitchen. Sydney has this way about her that can be very disarming. Disarming to the point where he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with her in telling her about his Al-anon meetings. I think by the end of the season, he tried to subconsciously sabotage this relationship by exploding on her, but still invited her back into his life---despite her challenging his core beliefs of no one understanding him or he has to do things on his own. Or he can't get close to anyone.

2. In season 2 we see a shift in their dynamic where trust has been built. They've grown closer. They're having conversations about their personal lives. They're giving each other advice. They've built this little family inside the restaurant. Sydney is slowly now integrated into his family. They're literally building their future together. But here Carmy goes, sabotaging things (by bringing the C person into the dynamic) again because his relationship with Sydney is once again challenging his core beliefs. This is the theme I'm starting to notice.

3. Carmy admires Sydney. He values her opinion. He sees interpersonal skills she brings into the kitchen, and into their dynamic, that he wants to mirror himself. (This is partway why he is ALWAYS watching her)

He constantly asks if things are okay between them. He doesn't lie to her. (outside of omitting who the C person was). He tries his best to articulate his feelings to her without her prompting. When he said "I don't want to do this without you. I can't do this without you. You make me better at this." He meant that shit. That is so hard to admit out loud for him because the emotional stakes and the fear of rejection is so high for him. it's obvious he holds her in such high regard because he does not do or say any of those things to anyone else in his life. He ignores them. He shuts them out. He avoids. He doesn't communicate. (Just look at his entire dynamic with the C person. Just look at how he's shut her out completely).

4.This season he feels so ashamed and upset that he left Sydney alone. "I left you alone." After promising to her various times, he won't do that. He is devastated by this. he was yelling GET SYDNEY when he was locked in the freezer because he left her alone. So now he's gone into the extreme mode to try and fix it the things between them even though she didn't feel he abandoned her.

He told Sydney to check him if he's fucking up. He trusts he will listen to her when she does and correct himself. We are now at a point where he does not want to fuck shit up with her anymore. He is now allowing Sydney's presence in his life to challenge his core belief without sabotaging it. I think, Carmy has already casually admitted in his mind that he has strong feelings for Sydney, but I think he's put it in a deli and stored it on a shelf for various Carmy reasons.

So, when Sydney checks him in the kitchen, tells him to calm down, he listens. Sydney doesn't view Carmy as broken. Despite knowing he has anxiety and panic attacks. Despite his emotional issues, despite his family dysfunction. I think Sydney views him as someone who can hold it together. She doesn't coddle him because she sees he is trying and has the ability to get his act together. When she says: "So don't fuck up" is a great example of that.

Sydney is clear in her expectations of him. She holds him accountable. Sydney is gentle and disarming and forgiving in a way he is not with himself and he recognizes he needs that. Him being able to calm down when she tells him to, is her shaping his behavior. His thoughts of her helping him calm from a panic attack is because he trusts her voice. She is the port in the storm. She is the only one he trusts enough to be this way with him. Because he is in love with her.

[yuri-is-online]

Hi, there, again! 🌼

If it's not too much trouble, make a second and last request, I can request:

There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.

With Silver, Jack and Sebek

Take your time and at your pace, bye 🌠🌌✍️💐

11. There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.

Hello again yourself! Sorry this took forever! I hope you like this I was considering not putting that prompt on the list but I did anyway because I really like the moon. She does so much for romance, we should thank her.

notes: they/them used for Yuu. I should write more Silver the glomas made me think about him more, Jack gets made fun of, and Sebek is Sebek. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Silver

It is rude to stare, but Silver gave up willing himself not to blink a long time ago. He is afraid that he will put himself right to sleep and be forced to content himself with a hazy memory of your beauty. Not that he is opposed to dreaming of you, he is sure he does already anyway, he just... can't remember it.

"Silver?" He has been caught, you are blocking his vision, but he is only looking at you anyway so he finds himself smiling. "Are you ok?" You reach to check his forehead and he sighs happily into your touch.

"I'm glad you came to see if I was alright, but I promise I'm ok." You let him take your hand in his and guide you to sit next to him, he finds his smile widening but he can't see how you react. "I wonder if humans are warmer in your world."

"Oh um," he falls onto your shoulder, eyes closed but not asleep and reveling in the completely unfamiliar feeling "I don't think we are. Were? W-why would you think something like that?"

"Because I'm always really warm whenever I'm with you." He takes your hand into his lap and places his other over it, breathing deeply and slowly. "Oh and you are getting even warmer now! That's amazing. Unless it's not nice and you are uncomfortable?"

"No I'm fine." Your whisper tickles his ear even if it's not quite next to it. That's another thing he finds amazing about you, your voice has a really powerful effect on people when you lower it. That's the only way he can think to explain his increased heart rate. But then...

"Are you sure?" He opens his eyes to look up at you, your eyes aren't on him anymore, but they aren't on anyone else. You seem to be very determined to continue admiring the moon, even when he has placed himself in your grasp. There is a strange sort of ache in his chest at the thought of your voice being used on anyone else. "I would hate to be keeping you from anyone else..." You turn, more slowly than he would like but probably completely normally, to look at him and steal him back away to daydreams with your smile.

"Don't worry Silver," you squeeze the hands that hold you and rest your head on his "I'm right where I want to be. Promise." And so does he.

Jack

"Tale as old as tiiime~" Ruggie croons somewhere off to the side and Jack takes a deep breath and tries to remind himself that this is his valued senior. "True as it can be~" Someone he deeply admires, who he wants to think highly of him. "Barely even friends~"

"Zip it." Jack growls as soon as you turn towards the noise, not wanting his reverie to be interrupted just yet only to find Leona standing next to Ruggie with just as smug of a look on his face.

"Then somebody bends, unexpectedly~" He has a surprisingly nice voice. Jack really wishes the first time he heard his dorm leader sing was not at his expense. "Aww look Ruggie he's blushing. Didn't know he could do that."

"Shishishishi. And now that you've pointed it out his ears are drooping, poor baby is embarrassed."

"Of course I'm embarrassed," he growls more than grumbles, but Ruggie doesn't even bother pretending to be afraid, to say nothing of how unfazed Leona is "you don't gotta go airing my business for everyone."

"So there is somethin' there." Leona laughs and Jack makes the mistake of looking back towards you.

You have gone back to leaning on the balcony, the moonlight glitters off silk of your costume or maybe it's just his heartsickness messing with his head. Jack rather likes the moon himself, the tales of werewolves his parents would tell had always excited more than frightened him. There was something that just felt right about letting the moonlight embrace him, like he was meant to exist under it. The way moonlight looks on you makes him think the same thing; that maybe he is allowed to want to keep you here forever basking in its glow. He moves, he tells himself it's because Leona and Ruggie have started humming that dumb song again, but the pull of the moon drowns out every word as he stumbles inelegantly to your side.

"I was wondering when you were finally going to come out here." You are enviably relaxed, moving to make room for him on the balcony he takes all of, not wanting there to any ambiguity in why he is standing with you.

"Sorry you were waiting so long." His tail briefly touches your leg before he reels it back to its proper place as he tries to keep his eyes firmly placed on the moon.  He hears you take a deep, deep breath of air and turns to see the puff of steam that you exhale.  “Are you cold?”  He worriedly asks, mind already racing for a solution that doesn’t involve too much actual helping on his part.  But despite that desire he finds himself pulling you into his side before you can say anything.

"Well not anymore." Your voice is muffled by his embarrassment more than his weight. "Stay with me? The moon is too pretty to go back inside just yet." His worry is not enough to deny you.

Sebek

His place is by Lord Malleus's side. His hard won, honored place, the only thing he is allowed to desire is his praise. Sebek is aware more than anyone how merciful his lord is, he has so far to go to be worthy of anything other than the role he has been given, even as he screams for more at every given opportunity.

That is why all he is willing to allow himself to do is look. Look, long, and admire. Sebek can stare a hole deep enough to bury himself at your side as he silently praises the moonlight that shrouds his people for how well it suits your form. He knows his words are inelegant, that his prose is crude, that his knowledge of human courtship is-

"Go on." Master Lilia has descended from the ceiling causing someone (not him certainly) to startle. "You want to, don't you? It's a ball, you're a knight. Go on, talk to them."

His feet move before his mind does, bringing him into full view of the moon as he imagines you catching your breath as you turn to see him.

"Sebek! Have you come to look at the sky too?" You speak so freely, foolishly unconcerned with decorum and yet admirably free in yourself. "It's beautiful tonight."

"Why are you mumbling?" He grumbles himself, trying to focus on the soothing, cool light as you shrink into yourself. "I can barely hear you human, usually you have no trouble speaking to me." It's annoying really, considering how loud you can be to insult him by speaking so slowly now.

"The moon." You choke and refuse to elaborate. He fumbles around in his waist coat for a handkerchief and fussily hands it over.

"Humans are so weak." Don't get sick oh please don't get sick. "You should have accounted for this when picking your costume." If anything happens to you I'll get sick myself from worry. "You should be grateful Master Lilia noticed you were alone and sent me over to check on you."

"Thank you Sebek." You manage a normal tone before he makes it clear he intends to wipe your nose himself. He almost wishes you would speak and save him from the tenderness of the moment. But you don't you just let him do as he pleases and allow him to pretend to return to admiring the moon.

And miss the way you continue to admire him.

[oneforthemunny]

ok but most to least likely to cheat? please? i love angst!

i really don't think any of them actually would. i think they're just not gross like that, and they're all lover boy coded to their core. it's webbed in all eddie dna, even the worst of them.

i can tell you why each of them wouldn't??? a fair compromise?

janitor!eddie- self explanatory. i mean this and i know it's gonna sound insane and fake and silly, but i really don't think he could find another person attractive once he met you. it's just not in his dna, no one else exists type thing. he loves you for so many reasons, and he's gonna fuck that up?? yeah, right lol.

mafia!eddie- genuinely is annoyed by most people's presence. he's busy babes, and he doesn't trust very easily. he's never been a big relationship guy, not even casual really. he's just been incredibly tunnel visioned with his own shit, that it just not a necessity. then he gets hooked once he does. really, wouldn't want to bc he doesn't trust anyone but also bc he's found the best.

older!eddie- truly is too old. too old and tired to be fucking around and playing games like that. even if he wanted to, that's embarrassing to him. being old and a fuckboy? he did that when he was in his twenties. now, he wants to settle down. wants something real.

modern!eddie- he's too pussy whipped for that. genuinely. he might think someone's pretty or nice. i think the thing with him, is he's a little too trusting sometimes, so when he meets a girl and she's nice to him he's like "oh a friend :)" when... that's not the case. that would be the closest thing to him actually cheating is she asks him stuff about the relationship and he tells her, and it's obv the other being malicious about it. then once you pointed it out, it's shut down. truly, he's just a moron, but a lover boy at heart. very much so the type if a girl flirted to say "i have a girlfriend and she's crazy. please don't touch me, she'll scalp you."

hockey!eddie- surrounded by puck bunnies, and he giggles at them when they try because??? hello??? he's clearly got you??? silly girls, you're right there! sunshine boy, he would never. you make him so happy, i don't even think he would consider it a possibility. some of his teammates cheat (obv they're hockey boys and gross) and he's so disgusted by them. even more than that, he's shocked. he genuinely thinks so lowly of them, especially if they're married and have kids. the foulest thing to him.

rockstar!eddie- i mean... once you guys are in, he's all fucking in. that's the thing about him, is he does everything so intensely. he's also had everything, all kinds of kinds, seen the world, experienced all it has to offer. and when he thinks about you compared to it, it's just not even close. he chooses you every time. i mean, you have three wedding ceremonies because he's just that into it. that into showing the world how you're together. then once the babies start coming, forget about it. he's locked in long before then, but after that? call him anti-feminist or whatever, but no other woman, person, anything on earth is better than you. it's why in the sex dungeon, he gets you a high priestess costume, because truly that's how he sees you.

cowboy!eddie- barely sees anyone anyways bc he's kinda a recluse. not the most romantic either lol, especially pre-you. he's more of like a "you can come over here" and then he's ready for you to leave after he's done. he likes his space, so once he meets you and wants you in his space? alters his routine for you? accommodates you into his life? plus you're a little kinky freaky wild and exciting like him? he's in for life. i think he can be a little bit flirty still at the beginning, just years of being a bachelor, but he'd never fuck or kiss or really engage romantically with anyone else.

dom!eddie- the closest he'd come is a threesome maybe. MAYBE. but truly, i don't think he'd want them in any other way than for his own twisted kinky fantasies with you at the center of them- like the other person involved could genuinely be anyone, he doesn't have someone in mind. but really, truthfully? everyone else bores him. he would be so bored if he was with someone who did everything he said (even tho he mocks you and tells you that's what he wants). if he was with someone who blindly obeyed without a fight, he'd be bored after twenty minutes. plus, you're his best friend, genuinely, outside of the kinky part of your relationship, you're his person. when something happens, good or bad, you're the first person he wants to tell. the first person he wants to do things with, never gets tired of doing things with, genuine best friends.

boxer!eddie- similar to those before, that he's anti social but he's mean too. like he comes across as an asshole, and is one, and he was very lonely before he met you. someone who can keep up with him, give it as good as they take it. quick witted and a little cynical and snarky, but not utter doom and gloom. he really was convinced he'd die alone, george clooney and remain an unmarried bachelor for the rest of his life, hopping from whoever to whoever (if he didn't die in the ring first) then he met you. it took him so long to build that up, get the relationship to a relationship, that he's not cheating and fucking that up. couldn't fine someone he'd want to cheat with even if he did because you're one of a kind to him.

bouncer!eddie- ok, i know i said he would, and technically he does-ish, but it's really not super intentional. he's actually stupid and thought he was being cool. anyways. he wouldn't cheat once he actually communicated and there was confirmation he was in a relationship lol. i think he'd be down for threesomes, but that's it. not genuine cheating bc he doesn't actually feel anything towards the other person other than in the moment, he's horny. especially if they're touching you, or your touching them, but that's the key right there. you have to be in it. plus, who else is gonna be freaky with him like you are? no one. and you're funny and sweet to him and exciting and like to listen to his music? in his eyes, it's a match made in heaven.

[intheorangebedroom]

hello, i'm the worst but i was wondering if you could post a snippet of the next chapter of TYBTM, no rush at all, whenever suits you well, but... i just finished my first re-read and cannot get them out of my head right now.

Hey Nonnie 🧡🧡🧡

You’re not the worst, you're the best, and I’m very thankful to you and for you 🧡 Your ask is like fuel, or vitamin D, it's giving me strength to keep going 🥰 I’ve recently been tagged by some lovely writers for the WiP Wednesday game, so thank you, too, @frannyzooey @whatsnewalycat @chronically-ghosted and @evolnoomym 🧡🧡🧡🧡

And Nonnie, here’s a very rough first draft of chapter 6 for you, along with all my love and gratitude 😌🧡👇🏻

“What do you mean, the room is taken? Taken by whom?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I cannot disclose this kind of information.”

Raul’s affected attempt at hotelier’s etiquette has Frankie scoffing into the receiver. Or is it Joachim? No, you said his name was Raul.

“Wait, it’s taken now, but it is booked tomorrow? I just need it on tomorrow. Friday. Just move your costumer to some other room, I’m pretty sure you got plenty of vacancies.”

Why is he behaving like an ass to this poor man who’s only trying to do his job properly? Why is he getting so nervous over this? How does it matter if you’re not in room number 2, this week?

“We have vacancies, but I am afraid I cannot ask the lady to change rooms, sir. She hasn’t specified a date for the end of her stay.” 

Frankie feels like a bucket of ice is being poured over his head in slow motion.

“What lady?” he rasps, his throat suddenly parched. “Who’s in there? Is it the– Is it the woman who comes in every week? With me?”

Raul doesn’t answer, but his silence tells Frankie everything he needs to know.

“Alright, thanks,” he snaps, hanging up hurriedly. 

An hour and a half later, he’s pulling up into the motel’s parking lot. Lupe has been gracious enough to agree to pick up Lua from day-care, even though Thursday is his day, so he’s got the rest of the afternoon to sort this out. 

This is foolish. He, is foolish. Your car is not even here. He’s probably overreacting. 

The thing is, his gut instinct tells him he’s not. It’s almost a familiar dread. Like the vision he had on Christmas evening. Your lonely silhouette sitting by the window on the edge of the bed.

He gets out of the truck swiftly, with a quick glance at the reception office, and walks straight to room number 2. The place looks even shittier in the bright afternoon sun. The contours of the low building are pressed flat by the blinding light and the heat. The lime wall between rooms 2 and 3 is streaked with deep, long winding cracks. The paint on the porch’s poles is chipped, it comes off the dried out wood in large, crispy flakes. The hanging lights are rusty and the base of the railing is moldy. 

Once more, guilt squeezes his chest tight at the thought that he’s made you come here, week after week. That you tacitly agreed to it, and never said a word. That you kept coming back. Back to this place. Back to him, too.

The door is locked. He rattles the doorknob again, harder this time, more to shake off his own frustration than to achieve anything else, really. The yellow curtains are drawn, and no matter how hard he squints, he can’t see jack shit inside the room. 

He’s probably overreacting. 

What if he picked the lock? Just to make sure you’re not in here?

“Jesus,” he sighs heavily, running a palm over his face, “the fuck is wrong with me?”

He stands in front of the door a while longer, head hung and hands propped on his hips, so still he can feel the sweat beading on his nape. Eventually, he lifts his cap and combs his fingers through his hair, then turns around and steps down the porch. 

He’s halfway to his truck when your sedan appears at the end of the road and turns into the parking lot.

—

NP tags!!! @secretelephanttattoo @jolapeno @juletheghoul @saradika @mrsmando and anyone who wants to share 🧡

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 7: Father and Daughter (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 7: Father and Daughter

A hunt, a reunion, and a conflict. A normal day in Westeros then.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Nothing of note, save for parental trauma and a notable lack of Daemon shenanigans.

Word Count: 5.8k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: OH MY GOD IM ALIVE???? Yeah, it appears I am 😭 I'm so sorry about the long wait on this chapter, the past two weeks have been wild for me ever since I came back from my vacation. 1. My dad crashed his car? 2. I had like five projects due during the past two weeks and I had to write in a report and evaluation about my project groupmate who essentially did nothing 😐 if I could beat someone's ass without getting suspended, istg... 3. I've been suffering from a lot of chest pains recently, which kinda stopped me from doing my thing for a while 4. I had insane writers block for like a week and it was horrid 😖 but luckily, I'm back now, and hopefully updating more often! And also I've learnt that my classmate is following me on tumblr, I am a little mortified, but hello regardless. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 💕 no Daemon cameo unfortunately, but he'll be back next chapter, and messier than ever.

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

109 years after Aegon's Conquest

The doors to the room burst open, and you stepped in, a little out of breath. Lord Hobert Hightower and the Hand, who were standing closest to the doorway, were engrossed deep in conversation when you walked in, and you heard something along the lines of “It’s only a matter of time before Viserys names him heir.” You try not to frown at that, nodding politely to them before heading over to the crowd gathered over at the other side of the room, cooing at the heir in question: little Aegon, who was celebrating his second nameday. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Viserys exclaimed happily, gesturing for you to come and stand between him and Alicent, whose face was radiant with happiness. Viserys signalled for the wet nurse to step forward, and before you knew it, little Aegon was in your arms, babbling in that toddler frenzy of his. The assemblage of lords and ladies stepped closer to you, much to your discomfort, as you forced a cheerful smile and bounced Aegon up and down in your arms, which made him squeal with delight. “I fear that Aegon might come to see you as his mother sooner or late, Y/N, given how much he adores you.” Viserys claimed. You flush at his words, and Alicent soon steps in, smiling, “Tis true. Aegon always perks up when he’s in your arms.” You were sure you would melt into a puddle if you were subject to any more of their compliments. “You flatter me, Your Graces.” 

In the periphery of your vision, you saw Ser Tyland Lannister attempt to get Viserys’ attention, and you handed back a now fussing Aegon to his nursemaid. Alicent shuffled over to the feast table, and she smiled brightly as you approached. Placing a hand on her swollen belly, your heart fluttered with delight when you felt a slight kick. Though the horrors of childbirth still plagued your mind, being there for Alicent’s relatively smooth birth with Aegon had made your fears lessen a little. 

“How’s the babe?” you ask. “Only active when you’re here, it seems,” Alicent laughed. “They never seem to kick for anyone else other than you. I think they will adore you as much as Aegon does.” You chuckle, stroking Alicent’s belly gently. “What if the kicking is a sign that the babe will dislike me?” Alicent patted your hand, “Definitely not. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be dear to the babe.” she said with conviction. You blush at her words, “You flatter me, Your Grace.” 

“Can someone tell me where in the Seven Hells Rhaenyra might be?” Viserys’ frustrated bellow drew you and Alicent out of your tender moment. Alicent’s face twisted with worry, and you were sure your face was a mirror image of hers. “You came in later than the rest of us. Did you see Rhaenyra anywhere?” You shake your head glumly, “She wasn’t in her chambers, or her apartments.” Alicent sighed in exasperation, “Viserys has questioned nearly every courtier in the room, and not a single one of them has a clue. Where might she be?” You chewed your lip, thinking back to the snippet of conversation you had overheard between the Hand and Lord Hobert. “She’s upset right now. The two of you were…” You refrained from finishing the sentence when you saw Alicent wince. “Do you have any inkling on where she might go to cool off?” “I don’t belie-” A look of realisation dawned in Alicent’s eyes. “You know somewhere?” You ask her urgently. Alicent nodded, “I’ll go find her. You should stay and satiate yourself before the journey.” “Are you sure?” You ask her, concerned. Alicent squeezed your hand gently. “Don’t worry about me. I think I can get Rhaenyra to see reason.” 

You glance pensively at Alicent’s retreating figure. Sighing, you approached the refreshments table, smiling gratefully as a servant handed you a plate with some slices of roast pork. You heard your name being called, and turned around to find Viserys. “Your Grace-” you moved to curtsy, but Viserys stopped you, “I told you, no need for such stuffy courtesies when you are with me.” You smiled wryly, “I thought it wouldn’t apply in a room full of courtiers.” Viserys waved away your words, “You are my family, Y/N. There are no such constraints within your own kin.” You smile sadly at the word ‘family’. It was a little sad to say, but you definitely did feel more of a kinship with the current members of House Targaryen over those of your own house. 

“Speaking of kin,” Viserys’ voice turned serious. “I am in need of a favour from you, Y/N.” You snapped to attention. “Whatever you need, Viserys.” He sighed, looking mournful and irritated at the same time. “It has been nigh three years since I have wedded Alicent. Time after time, I have tried to approach Rhaenyra, but she shuns me away every single time. The rare chances she actually sits down and listens, she sulks like a child and only provides me with short responses.” Viserys sighed again, whatever sadness he had turning into disappointment and exasperation. “This is not the way the heir to the Iron Throne should behave.” He looked at you beseechingly, “I implore you, Y/N. I believe what Rhaenyra needs is for a motherly figure to talk to her, and persuade her to abandon such foolish antics. I fear Alicent would not be able to serve such a role, since Rhaenyra’s ire is directed at the both of us. But you,” You swallowed nervously. “I’ve seen how close Rhaenyra kept you after Aemma’s death. For months, apart from Alicent, you were her closest confidant. I know naught of what has transpired between the two of you, but I believe you to be the best person for this tiresome task. Will you do methis favour?” 

Your expression was resigned, but you forced out a smile nonetheless. “But of course. I will do my best, Viserys.” He closed his eyes in relief, clapping you on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Y/N. Thank you.” You gave a tentative smile back, painfully aware of the numerous eyes glued to the both of you. What you failed to notice, however, were the heavy gazes of Otto and Hobert Hightower on you. 

An awkward silence weighed upon the royal wheelhouse as it made its way to the Kingswood. You glance uncomfortably between Viserys, Alicent, and Rhaenyra, watching with some pity as Viserys attempted to make conversation with his irascible and sullen daughter. A miniature dragon thrust in your face soon drew your attention however, and you looked down to frown admonishingly at little Aegon, who blinked his wide violet eyes at you innocently. The little devil, you were sure he was trying to garner your attention on purpose. Earlier, he had been weeping inconsolably, much to the nursemaid’s and Alicent’s distress. But when you had taken him into your arms, he had ceased his tears immediately and gave you a cherubic smile, which made Alicent give you a knowing smile and Rhaenyra to look at the both of you in disdain. The expression of disdain had yet to depart from Rhaenyra, as you played patiently with Aegon, flying his dragon miniature around him and smiling as the toddler spun his head around to follow the motions of the dragon with rapt fascination. 

The tension in the wheelhouse was not lightening in the slightest bit, as Viserys began talking about Rhaenyra giving him grandchildren, of all things. You had to stop yourself from groaning in exasperation. If Viserys truly wanted to reconnect with Rhaenyra again, why was he digging himself into an even bigger hole? He should know that after Aemma, Rhaenyra would be disinclined to entertain notions of childbirth. You wanted to put your head in your hands, but Aegon poked you in the cheek. 

“No one’s here for me!” Rhaenyra’s angry outburst halted all activity in the wheelhouse, including Aegon’s. You froze, looking up at Rhaenyra, but her bitter gaze was focused solely on her father. All of you endured the rest of the ride in silence. 

The rocking of the wheelhouse soon came to an end. You remained seated as Viserys and Alicent stepped out to the raucous cheers of the crowd, allowing Aegon’s nursemaid to take him from your arms. You remembered Viserys’ plea, and took in Rhaenyra’s wistful expression. “Hail, hail! Aegon the Conqueror babe, Second of His Name!” You grimace when you hear the tasteless remark. 

Rhaenyra’s fists were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were shut. With frustration, or with sadness, she didn’t know. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand taking her fisted hand and unclenching it. She didn’t need to open her eyes to see who it was. “I don’t need your pity.” Rhaenyra tried to sound snappy, but her voice was hoarse. You didn’t answer, instead intertwining your fingers with Rhaenyra. She reluctantly opened her eyes, only to see you directing a hostile glare to the outside commotion, as more and more voices heralded Aegon as the Second of His Name. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile at that, letting some of the tension seep out of her muscles. 

At least there was someone in her dark and lonely corner, even if that someone’s trustworthiness had yet to be ascertained. 

You were sitting next to Alicent, as she held court with the various noble ladies who had attended the hunt. You listened, silently sipping from your goblet as they conversed about the ongoing war in the Stepstones. You watched as Larys Strong and Rhaenyra soon joined in the conversation, though a slight frown of distaste was soon visible on your face, when Lady Lannister and Lady Redwyne in particular, began picking on Rhaenyra. You had to hide a smirk when Rhaenyra made a well-directed jab at Lady Redwyne, and the smirk only widened when you saw her pig-faced dog gobble greedily at the cake on her plate. How fitting. 

“You know, Lady Y/N.” Your head snapped up as Lady Redwyne addressed you. She had a displeased look on her face: clearly she hadn’t missed your smirk at her expense. “I was…pleasantly surprised to hear Her Grace appointed you as her chief lady-in-waiting.” Your eyes narrowed, your dormant prickly nature coming to life once more. “It was a great honour, Lady Joselyn. One that I am greatly grateful to Her Grace for.” 

Lady Redwyne gave you a smile, that you knew from all your years of court politics, was filled with ill intent. “I must say, if you were out in the battlefield fighting on the Stepstones, the war would be won by now.” You felt Alicent stiffen next to you, and you instinctively reached out to put your hand on hers. “What are you insinuating, Lady Redwyne?” Alicent’s tone was sharper than usual. Lady Redwyne attempted to school her features back to deference, but her lips were curved upwards. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I was not attempting to insinuate anything. It was a compliment to Lady Y/N.” You levelled a fierce glare at her, but she seemed unaffected, looking at you straight in the eye. “It is a well known fact that she and Prince Daemon had tempers that rivalled each other. With such willfulness, she would make a formidable opponent on the battlefield, would she not?” 

You were about to deliver an equally cutting and backhanded response, but you were surprised when you heard Rhaenyra speak up once more, “Yes, Lady Redwyne. But as luck would have it, she is the Queen’s lady-in-waiting now.” Rhaenyra’s tone was acidic. “And I am certain that she will carry out her duties with skill and grace. The Queen will not be able to find someone as capable as her.” 

The ladies were stunned that Rhaenyra had spoken up for you, none more so than you and Alicent. “The princess is right. Lady Y/N has been a dutiful lady-in-waiting and companion. The Seven have truly blessed me with her.” Your eyes water with gratitude, as Lady Redwyne and the other ladies fall silent after both the princess and the queen’s swift defence of you.

So this was what kinship felt like. 

Night had fallen, and the air was ablaze with the smell of smoke. You had sat faithfully by Alicent all day, as she entertained lords and ladies alike. You had not seen Rhaenyra in quite some time though, and you worry about where she could have wandered off to. Your anxiety only increased tenfold when you saw Viserys’ goblet never straying from his hand, and he had been lifting it to his lips moreso after his conversations with the Hand, Jason Lannister, and Lyonel Strong, in particular. Alicent was clearly on edge as well, her brown eyes watchful as she witnessed her husband lose himself in his cups. When Viserys abruptly left the tent after a brief, yet intense conversation with Lyonel Strong, Alicent got up to go after him, but you gently pushed her back down to her seat, giving her a reassuring look. She should not need to see her husband in such a misbegotten state, while in her pregnancy, you thought to yourself, as you wrapped your shawl around you, shivering in the cold night air. 

You eventually found Viserys by the huge bonfire, downing yet another goblet of wine, while being guarded by two Kingsguard. They nodded at you as you passed. You went straight to Viserys, taking the cup whilst he was distracted. “I think that’s enough for you tonight, Viserys.” Your voice was soft, yet firm. He gave you an enervated smile. “The night is cold, you shouldn’t be out here.” You hand the goblet over to a Kingsguard. “Who will look after you, then? And make sure you do not drink yourself into a stupor?” Viserys laughed heartily, before he coughed. You reach for him, concerned. He stared into the flames, looking like he wanted to step into them himself. “Y/N.” “Hmm?” Viserys took a deep breath, trying to control the slurring in his voice. “What do you think is the foundation of House Targaryen’s strength?” 

You tilt your head to the side questioningly, “That is a trick question, right? Of course, the answer is House Targaryen’s dragons.” Viserys smiled ruefully, turning over to face you. You were taken aback by the blazing intensity, perhaps even madness in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Y/N. It began with a dream.” He turned back to face the fire. “When Daenys the Dreamer had the dream that prophesied the end of the Valyrian Freehold, that dream saved House Targaryen. While all the other dragonlords were destroyed, it was only us who survived.” “I know of that tale. Your grandsire told us that tale when we were younger.” 

Viserys didn’t seem to hear you, however, his bleak gaze still on the fire. “In my line, many had been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. What is the power of dragons, next to the power of prophecy?” You shivered, and not because of the cold. Yet you continue listening. “When Rhaenyra was a child, I saw it in a dream. As vivid as these flames, I saw it. A male babe, born to me, wearing the Conqueror’s crown. And I so wanted it to be true, to be a dreamer myself. I sought that vision again, night after night…but it never came again. I poured all my thought and will into it. And my obsession killed Aemma.” You looked away at that, your heart wrenched with grief.  “I thought Rhaenyra was the way out of my abyss of grief and regret. That naming her heir would set things right.” 

“Are you saying you regret naming Rhaenyra heir then?” Viserys looked grieved. “Oftentimes, yes…I have. I worried that I had named Rhaenyra out of anger towards Daemon, not out of love, or for the good of the realm.” He moved to grip your shoulders, tears in his eyes. “Y/N, I never imagined that I would remarry. That I would have a son. What if…what if I was wrong all along?” 

You stared into his despair-filled eyes. “I cannot tell you if you’re wrong, Viserys. There are only two paths ahead of you now, and as King, you must be prepared to take one, and soon.” Viserys chuckles, drooping his head. “What if I’m not sure what path I should take?” Your voice was quiet. “Then the realm will descend into chaos.” 

The both of you were silent, staring at each other in the firelight. While you couldn’t say that you approved of Viserys’ decisions in the past three years, after all this, he was your friend, and he was just a mere mortal, plagued by regrets, grief, and hesitation. Just like you, and everyone else. Even kings were not infallible to weakness, you surmised. And in that moment, there was a mutual understanding and grievance shared between the both of you: the burden of choice. 

The morrow brought about clear skies and sun, much to the delight of the lords partaking in the hunt. It did not alleviate your worries however, as Rhaenyra still had not returned to the encampment. You found yourself milling about today, much too tired to suffer the thinly veiled jabs the fellow noblewomen were directing at you about your infamous temper. 

You were dressed in a simpler riding outfit today, to mingle around with the various smallfolk and merchants that had set up stalls in the encampment, hoping eagerly to attract some lord’s attention and earn a few gold dragons. You beamed as you sampled a rather delicious roast pork skewer, giving the stall owner - a rather plump woman - two golden dragons, much to her glee. You strode back to the main tent, feeling satisfied, when you suddenly heard the sound of hooves. You turned your head as a palomino horse skidded to a halt, and a familiar man, with more grey hairs than he had the last time you saw him, dismount from the horse and take off his riding gloves. His eyes light up as soon as he catches sight of you, and without giving you a window to escape, he strode towards you. You chew your lip in dread as he approached. 

“Father.” 

“Y/N.” He beams at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners. You smile awkwardly at him, fidgeting with your fingers. His smile falters a little when he notices your hesitation. “I haven’t seen you in years, daughter. Does this momentous occasion not warrant a hug?” You inwardly sigh, and reach out to embrace your father. Your father grins at you as you pull away after an awkward pause. “You have grown, daughter. You look beautiful.” “You flatter me, Father.” “Come, walk with me. We have much to talk about.” You swallowed, but followed as he set out for the forested edge of the campground. 

The both of you strode in silence for a while, before you ventured to break the silence. “The King didn’t mention you would be joining us for the hunt, Father. Why the sudden change of heart?” He sighed. “Can an old man not choose to be in nature once in a while?” “Of course you can, father. I was just concerned: you are no longer in the pink of health, and riding all the way from Highgarden to the Kingswood is a gruelling journey.” Your father waved his hand dismissively. “Twas nothing. I might be getting on in my years, but I recently found a new source of reinvigoration.” 

“Oh?” you cocked your head curiously. You sincerely hoped the new source of reinvigoration was not a new bid for your hand. Your father smiled, “I recently remarried to Lady Clarice of House Fossoway.” Seeing your confused look, he hurried to clarify. “Of Cider Hall.” Surprise creased your features. “But…wasn’t that Mother’s maiden house? Lady Clarice was her cousin, was she not?” Your father’s smile was beginning to look strained. “Does it matter, daughter? What matters is that I am happy with her, is it not? And I am certain she will give me strong sons soon.” You regard him with a degree of caution, noting the shift in his voice. In your years of dealing with court politics, you could instinctively tell when a situation was about to go from bad to worse. “I did not know you had any plans on remarrying after Mother’s death.” 

“And whose fault is that, daughter?” Your father’s tone turned chiding. “I know you’ve been ignoring all the ravens I’ve sent to you over the past few years. Specifically, those with letters attached from me pleading for you to just find yourself a match at court or select one of the eligible lords in the lists I sent you.” You blushed, looking sheepish. Matthos sighed. “Daughter, you are no longer young. It is past time you are wed. I only want what’s best for you.” 

“But-” you blurted out, “What if I don’t think getting married is what’s best for me, Father?” Your father looked askance at that. “What else could a young lady such as yourself desire other than marriage?” You bit your lip, “Father, the truth is…I do not think I have a desire to wed now…or ever.” You were beginning to get anxious as your father’s face lost some of his paternal tenderness. “Five years. I had hoped that our time apart had given you some time to reflect on your…misconceptions.” He gripped your shoulders, an intense blaze in his eyes as your heart began to thud with dread. “The matter of marriage is not one that you can dismiss so easily anymore, Y/N. It entails the survival and future of House Tyrell. You must do your duty and wed a respectable lord, for the sake of our house.” Though you had heard those words aplenty, today, it was like something uninhibited had seized control of you, as you burst out. “Why should I care about doing my duty to House Tyrell?” you snapped. “I have made it clear that it is not my intention to ever take a husband, now and in the foreseeable future. You claim this is all done for my own happiness. So why can’t you just respect my wishes?” 

“Because you are not just some poxy peasant who can gallivant about as you please. You are my daughter!” You were shocked when your father suddenly raised his voice. Trepidation had dimmed your previous righteousness. He tightens his grip on your shoulders, his expression filled with an anger you had never glimpsed before. This…this was not the father you remember. The father you knew had never once raised his voice at you, always treating you with patience as his only child. Though he was prone to bouts of frustrated pleading when you did not acquiesce to his wishes to get married, he had never once shouted at you like that. Or even gripped your shoulders with such forcefulness you feared he might strike you. “You are just as useless as your late mother.” You were stunned, your eyes searing with hot tears. “Do not insult Mother like that. She was the most wonderful woman-” “Wonderful, you say?” your father snorted. “If she were so wonderful, then she would have provided me with a strong and healthy son to succeed me! Instead, she left me with a daughter who is ungrateful and strangely determined to remain a spinster all her life.” he spat out the words with such vitriol that you were taken aback. “If she were so wonderful,” your father continued with his rant. “Then would House Tyrell be in imminent danger of collapsing, all because the only heirs I have are your incompetent, doltish cousins who will run the legacy our ancestors and I have built to the ground?” He moved to clasp your hand tightly in his, looking desperate and angry all at once. “Daughter, your father is imploring you. You must get wed, and provide me with a grandson. You cannot let House Tyrell go to ruin.” You stare at him, feeling beleaguered. “Do my wishes mean nothing to you?” “This is because your wishes are obscenely unreasonable, Y/N.” your father snaps. “It is practically unheard of for a woman of your status to not wed.” “It is not!” you insisted, “I am the chief lady-in-waiting to the Queen now, I have duties I must perform. And there have been histories of lords whose daughters were largely spinsters. Moreover, you have remarried.” Your voice became desperate as you tried to make your father see reason. “Lady Clarice is young, she will give you many sons in due time. Suitable heirs to Highgarden. I do not understand why you are putting all this pressure on me.” You took a deep breath, preparing to make your final stand. “I want to enjoy the rest of my youth, Father. Not to sit in a castle, entrapped in a loveless marriage and pumping out potential heirs for my husband and for you. I want to live my life, free of constraints.” You looked at him, unshed tears in your eyes. “Please, father. This is the one thing I have ever asked of you, and that is to respect my wishes.” 

Matthos was silent for a long while, and you held hope, briefly, that you might have gotten through to him with your pleading. “Foolish, insolent girl!” Your hopes were dashed as your father flung off your hand, shouting at you. “How can you be so selfish? To not take responsibility in ensuring the continuation of our house’s line?” “That is your responsibility, not mine!” you shouted back. Seeing that pleas would not get to your father now, you resorted to fighting fire with fire instead. “Had you really cared about continuing our house’s bloodline, you would’ve remarried years ago!” You could see how your shouts were drawing the attention of some courtiers, given how close the both of you were to the camp for royals. You heard the faint sound of hooves behind you, but you ignored them, too engrossed in your argument with your father. “Producing heirs is a lord’s responsibility. So if you are accusing me of not doing my duty, you should first be reprimanding yourself.” 

Your father’s face grew red. “You little brat! How dare you say these things about your father!” “I spoke only the truth,” you shot back. He raised his hand, and for a moment you were afraid he was going to slap you for your outburst. Instead, he went to grip your shoulders again, “For years, I have raised you, clothed you in the finest silks, fed you, and put up with your ridiculous whims and wants! I’ve been patient, I’ve been loving and understanding when you rejected all the marriage offers you received. I’ve pleaded, and even given you the time and freedom to find a more suitable match at court. Yet you cannot even perform your duty as my daughter. No longer.” Your heart stuttered a little. “What do you mean?” Your father gave you a cold look. “I’m saying, if you do not get married by the end of the year, you are no longer my daughter.” Your eyes widen with horror. “I will effectively disown and disinherit you from House Tyrell, and if I sire any children by Lady Clarice, they shall not support you either.” 

Your voice was tremulous, “Father, you…you cannot be serious. Do not let your anger cloud your judgement.” Matthos Tyrell looked at his daughter, his face one of disgust. “You wanted to enjoy your youth without constraints. And since you seem to enjoy being lady-in-waiting to the Queen so much, I’m only granting you what you wished for, am I not?” 

You stepped back, feeling winded by your father’s words. However, you nearly jumped when you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Ah, Y/N!” You were not sure whether you felt more mortified or relieved for Viserys’ timely presence. “Your Grace!” Immediately, your father’s distaste gave way to deference, as he straightened his posture and bowed before the King. You inclined your head respectfully, wondering if Viserys had overheard your conversation. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation.” Oh, he definitely overheard. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I am delighted to be in your presence.” Your father gushed on profusely, as Viserys stepped toward him. You hung your head, still abashed by your father’s threats, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder once more. Alicent smiled at you understandingly, and you grimaced when you realised she had also overheard the unpleasant exchange. Still, you shot her a grateful look for her show of support. 

“I must offer you my sincerest felicitations for Prince Aegon’s second nameday, Your Grace.” Viserys laughed, “Your felicitations are greatly appreciated, Lord Matthos. I must extend you mine as well, for your recent remarriage. I see it is treating you well.” Your father beamed, “You are too kind, Your Grace. And indeed, my lady wife pleases me so. Now, the only thing that would make me the happiest man in the realm would be my daughter finally settling down with a respectable match.” You stiffened at that, something Alicent took notice of, and she offered you a sympathetic look. Viserys chuckled, “That you and I can both agree on, Lord Matthos. There is nothing more I desire right now than seeing Rhaenyra being wed to a deserving man who will treat her right.” 

“Oh, I am sure Her Grace will have her pick of men. She is ‘The Realm’s Delight’, after all. Any man who weds her will be a lucky one.” Your father’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone, as he glanced at you. “Moreover, Her Grace is young, comely, and lovely to behold.” Matthos sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled, “Mine own daughter is not in possess of such qualities, I’m afraid. She is getting on with her years, and though I love her deeply, as her father, I must admit she has quite a temper on her. She's not quite the attractice match, which gives me a headache,” Matthos jested with the King, causing you to wince and look away. Alicent looked disconcerted at your father’s tasteless jesting, tightening her hold on your shoulder. However, the both of you did not notice the flare of annoyance behind Viserys’ eyes, so his next words surprised the both of you. 

“Lady Y/N has been nothing but a delight to have at court, Lord Matthos. In spite of her age, I’m sure she has no shortage of suitors.” Viserys’ voice was amiable, polite, yet it carried an undertone of firmness and reprimand such that Matthos looked a little stunned, worried that he had overstepped. You looked back to the pair, your eyes wide with disbelief. “And should Y/N ever find herself unwilling to marry, the Red Keep will always welcome her. She is like family to me, after all.” Your father fell silent, and you locked eyes with Viserys, looking lost, yet appreciative all the same. Viserys gave you a reassuring smile, and you could see the sincerity behind his intent. Your eyes prickled with touched tears, but the moment was interrupted when you heard shouts across the campground, startling your party. You turned around, only to behold the sight of Rhaenyra, stained head to toe with dried blood, a commanding aura in her swagger as her sworn shield, Ser Criston, trailed behind her, along with two servants carrying a dead boar. You lock eyes with her momentarily, and she gives a small nod of acknowledgement to you, although her eyes turned cold when they looked upon her father. You heard Viserys sigh, and you saw how Viserys looked both annoyed and relieved for Rhaenyra’s safety, while your father just looked bewildered, perhaps even a little scared. Despite yourself, you smiled a little at the scene. 

Alicent and you were chatting in her chambers, laughing in hushed tones as you rocked Aegon to sleep in your arms, when the Hand entered the room, requesting to speak with Alicent. You handed a sleepy Aegon to his nursemaid, before curtsying and exiting the room, painfully aware of the Hand’s weighty gaze upon you as you did. 

Alicent knew that her father had not visited her out of a gesture of goodwill, and as she listened to his rather maddening reasoning that Alicent should attempt to make her husband see reason and name Aegon heir, she only stayed silent. There was no point in countering back anyway - the Hand always seemed to have a dozen other reasons to quell her opposition. She felt uncomfortable, for speaking of this was treason, and the babe shifted in her belly, causing her to sigh. 

Otto observed his daughter, noting with mild exasperation that she wasn’t paying heed to anything he was saying. So, he decided to change the subject. “About your lady-in-waiting…” he began. Alicent’s head snapped up, “What do you wish to discuss of Y/N?” Otto let a smile play over his lips: it was quite evident his daughter cared for the Tyrell lady, and from his further observations over the past three years, treated her akin to a maternal figure. Which might make it easier for her to accept what he proposed next. “I overheard a rather…interesting conversation she had, with Lord Matthos today.” Alicent showed no visible reaction, but she stared at her father, feeling an all-too-familiar feeling of dread settle in her gut. “I think half the campground overheard their argument. What of it?” 

Otto hummed softly, “It seems her father is worrying about her marriage. Which is a reasonable worry - she is on the cusp of her twenty fifth nameday, is she not?” Alicent nodded slowly, eyeing her father with caution. She knew him all too well, how he was tapping his fingers on the armrests of his chair - he was scheming. She recalled how upset you were when you spoke with your father, citing your dreams to enjoy your youth and be freed of the constraints of marriage. In later years, she had come to both see you as a cherished companion and a parental figure of sorts, and she cared for you, deeply so. You were her only source of comfort in the Red Keep, one who did not expect or demand anything of her, someone she felt she could truly be open with. She glanced fearfully at her father. 

She had to put an end to this. She must save you from suffering the same fate she did. 

“Father…you are not planning on taking a new wife, are you?” Alicent fidgeted with her fingers nervously, her eyes fixed on Otto. He was quiet for a long while, and in response to her question, he only stood up and went over to his daughter, placing a hand on her swollen belly. His cryptic answer disturbed Alicent. “You worry too much over matters that do not need worrying about, daughter. Your concern now, should be Aegon. Raise him well, and raise him strong. He shall be an important man one day.”

Come the morrow, the Godswood was completely devoid of any life. Which proved to be a boon to you, who was seeking some reprieve from the busy atmosphere of the Red Keep and the somewhat maddening task of having to feed Aegon -  due to his tendency of smooshing the food in the face of whomever had the misfortune of feeding him, most commonly you. 

You sat on the stone bench, staring despondently at the Godswood tree. While you were never particularly religious, either to the Seven or to the Old Gods, the happenings of the hunt have driven you to pray with increasing fervency these days. What you prayed for, you did not know. Was it for the hope that your father’s heart might soften and he might be persuaded to leave you be for the rest of your life? You scoffed to yourself, knowing how improbable it was. Fiddling with the pendant - Aemma’s pendant, you sighed, tilting your head downwards to the ground. 

You were startled when you heard movement next to you, of another soul taking a seat next to you on the bench, her posture ramrod straight, and her expression blank. Rhaenyra’s linen sleeves fluttered slightly in the breeze. 

“I suppose neither of us are in the best of spirits,” Rhaenyra’s voice was stilted, like she was reluctant to break the silence first. You lifted your head upright, looking at her with a tentative smile, “No, I suppose we aren’t.” An awkward silence highlighted the chasm between the two of you. You wondered, had this truly been the girl of fourteen who confided in you about everything? Now, it seems there is a stark contrast to the Rhaenyra you once knew to the Rhaenyra before you. Though of course, you were to be blamed for that. 

“My father has just ordered me to embark on a tour of the realm. A marriage tour.” Rhaenyra’s bitter tone roused you from your thoughts. “I do not know why I’m telling you this. Perhaps it’s because you are the only person in the Keep who might have the slightest sympathy for what I’m going through.” Rhaenyra’s voice lowered to a slightly malicious pitch, but there was no disguising the hurt behind her voice. “Or maybe it would be false sympathy. But it is better than none.” 

You winced, wanting to reach out and take Rhaenyra’s hand, the way you knew she loved. Physical touch was Rhaenyra’s favourite way of receiving and expressing affection. A wane smile pulled at your lips as you heard her words, “You might be cynical, but I have more sympathies to your plight than you might think, Princess.” Rhaenyra was surprised by the resignation in your tone. She recalled the scene she had seen when she returned to the royal encampment at the hunt that day. “...does it have something to do with your father?” 

You let out a sad laugh, “Indeed. I have been forced into a situation much more precarious than yours, I would say. My father has given me an ultimatum: I must wed by the end of this year, or I shall be effectively disinherited and disowned as a member of House Tyrell.” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, her stance immediately shifting to one of sympathy and guilt. “Does your father jest?” “I’m afraid not,” you remark with a despaired, cynical laugh, “Father’s patience has worn thin when it comes to me, I’m afraid. I should’ve known it foolish to think that I could escape from the ramifications of duty to my House.” 

You were a little mortified to find your eyes prickling with tears. In truth, you were frightened to the bone. Two paths were set in stone before you now, and neither were pleasant. Rhaenyra hesitated for a while, before reaching out to take your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. You were startled by her sudden gesture, as the flood of familiarity rushed through your veins. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “This is a horrible situation to find yourself in.” She looked hesitant, “I know you’ve always been of your own mind, Y/N. I just want you to know…that you are not alone. Should the worst come…I’m sure that my father will not turn you away in your hour of need.” Her lips turned upwards wistfully, “I will not too. The both of us are stuck in similar predicaments, are we not? Daughters forced to marry off at our father’s behest. We must stick together.” 

“...thank you,” you said quietly, touched, “I do not deserve your kindness, after all I have hidden from you.” Rhaenyra’s smile turns somewhat bitter, “What is done cannot be undone. What matters now is the future.” 

The cool metal of Aemma’s pendant dug into the flesh of your palm, as an idea came to you. “I have something for you,” Rhaenyra’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew misty as you presented the ruby falcon pendant to her. “I think this belongs to you. I’ve been holding onto it for the past few years, but I think it’s time you have it back.” Rhaenyra takes the pendant, clasping it to her chest as she looked mournfully down at it. “I thought it was naught but ashes now.” You bit your lip, seeing how relieved yet pained Rhaenyra looked made you regret not giving it to her sooner. You had clung onto it for selfish reasons over the past few years, unwilling to let go of Aemma. But now, you felt it was time to let go of the past, and brave on into the future. “I hope that having this piece of Aemma would make you feel more comforted on your marriage tour.” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes were misty, as she clasped the pendant like it was worth all the spice and gold from the shores of Essos. “Y/N.” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Hmm?” “Do you think…that Mother would’ve been proud of the person I am today?” Rhaenyra swallowed, looking downcast. “...I fear that, ever since I was named heir, since…Aegon was born, Father’s disappointment in me has been growing by the day.” “And why would you think that?” you asked, concerned. Rhaenyra took a shaky inhale, “I know that Father did not name me heir out of choice. It was a critical time, after Daemon had left, and the Realm would be plunged into unease upon the disinheritance of my uncle from the line of succession.” She bit her lip. “Father even told me as much. He said he had wavered at the notion of making me heir.” Your eyes flickered with shock and a little bit of righteous anger. “He said that?” Rhaenyra nodded miserably, and you patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “He told me he would never waver again, but it is a little hard to put my faith in that, with….with Aegon’s shadow looming over me.” Rhaenyra sighed, tilting her head upwards. ”I just…I wish I could do something to be better. To prove to Father that I’m not just the right choice to the throne because he named me heir when he had no choice. I want to show him that I possess the qualities to rule the throne. The marriage tour would be a start, but I just detest the idea of having to bind myself to some lord to prove my worthiness to the throne.” 

“I understand how you feel,” you commiserated, and she rested her head on your shoulder. “The expectations of a woman’s duty often cast a shadow over our lives.” Rhaenyra closed her eyes, feeling at ease with you, even if it were just for a brief moment. “Mother was fond of saying that marriage is a woman’s duty, and childbed is our battlefield. Especially as royal women,” Rhaenyra’s voice was thick with emotion. “I understand I must do this, for the good of the realm, but…why is it so terrifying? To have my worth determined on my husband and the number of children I can bear in service to him and the realm.” The setting sun glistened off a tear slowly making its way down Rhaenyra’s cheek. “Y/N, do you think my mother would be proud, watching me doubt her teachings?” 

You reached out to wipe her tear away, your other hand’s thumb gently stroking her hand that you still held. “You are her daughter, Rhaenyra. I have no doubt that you could be the most dastardly miscreant, and she would be proud of you nonetheless.” That got a bleak smile from Rhaenyra, “Truly?” You nodded your confirmation, smiling fondly down at her. “Truly. Though luckily, your moral character is rather upright.” Rhaenyra laughed, and you smiled, happy to have made her laugh. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Rhaenyra whispered to you.  

The two women stayed like this in the Godswood for a while, each swarmed by their own thoughts. So different, yet so similar in their impending doom, and duty.

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A/N: All I gotta say is: ruh roh, trouble is brewing. If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. I aim to release chapter 8 by next Wednesday, hopefully something unprecedented doesn't happen before then though.

[daenerystargaryen06]

Heya! I wanted to ask you, did you see the end of HotD S2? Daemon’s vision? Doesn’t it prove that Dany always has been the one who was promised? They showed her. Not Jon. Not Bran. Dany’s the one who was promised. I have seen a lot of sexist Jon stans denying reality and claiming it’s Jon simply because of who his parents are and some of the nastier ones saying Dany is nothing, but fuck them. That scene really gives me a lot of hopes for her real ending in the books. She’s obviously the hero. One of them at least. She’s the Fire of the Song of Ice and Fire as GRRM confirmed. And he associates Fire with love and passion and life. I think it is so clear that George was never going to give Dany a stupid villain turn like the hacks did. Does this scene give you any hopes for Dany in the books? I still stand by my conviction. I will accept Bran being King of Westeros, however much I think it’s just really not logically possible, as long as Dany and Arya and Jon all survive and can live peaceful lives. But… I really want Dany to be Queen. I mean why have her learn how to be a ruler and a leader for it to not pay off? Besides how many fantasy stories end with a Queen being crowned instead of a King? That would be a great subversion of the typical fantasy story

Hello! So sorry for the delayed response... but here we go! Yes! I did see the vision Daemon had at the end of season 2, I even made an edit including the scene of Daenerys (if you want to check it out it's on my tik tok page- Divi_Chan). In my opinion the vision scene and Daemon's reunion with Rhaenyra in Harrenhal were the only good scenes from that episode overall. I really did enjoy how they included Daenerys into the vision and I nearly screamed out of joy when I first saw it, haha.

I also do believe that, yes, the scene was included to hint at Daenerys being TPTWP/Azor Ahai. But the show has been sprinkling these hints in ever since the first episode of the first season. The opening credits display the words "172 years before Daenerys Targaryen", reminding the audience of her and her importance to the story, and when Viserys is speaking to Rhaenyra about the Song of Ice and Fire and Aegon's dream, Daenerys' theme is the musical score. The vision was the scene to piece it all in cohesively and confirm overall that yes, Daenerys is Azor Ahai, and that she is the one most integral to the Targaryen legacy and the war against the Others. Rhaenyra was set as a beginning stone for what Daenerys will eventually carry out centuries later.

And they indeed did not show ANYONE else from GoT for the vision/scene. They showed Bloodraven, the White Walkers, the death of the dragons in the Dragon Pit (a future scene from the books), bodies from war, Daemon sinking into water (his end from his battle against Aemond in the books), the red comet, Daenerys' three dragon eggs, and then Daenerys herself sitting with her three newly hatched dragons. And honestly, if you think about it... this is mostly connected, and perhaps leans into to Daenerys' role as Azor Ahai in segments.

Bloodraven is a Targaryen bastard, yet he is a greenseer; he knows about the White Walkers, and is speculated to have Targaryen items of value with him for this battle (Dark Sister, for example). He likely knows the role Daenerys and Bran will play in the Long Night and is preparing them (mainly Bran for now) for it.

The White Walkers obviously are the 'big bad', the ultimate enemy to vanquish for Daenerys and others that will play roles in the Long Night.

The death of the dragons led into their extinction... yet centuries later, Daenerys brings them back into the world, and they will play their parts as Lightbringer.

The red comet and Daenerys' eggs and her hatching dragons into the world again is her fulfilling the prophecy to be Azor Ahai.

Daemon knows very little of the prophecy from Rhaenyra, but he was shown it in his visions, yet due to that little knowledge he holds I doubt he thinks/knows this vision is showing him who Azor Ahai truly is. I believe it was stated by the director's that he might think Daenerys is his future daughter with Rhaenyra and she will be the one to be important in some manner, since he saw her with her three dragons (I THINK the director's stated this, I'm not 100% sure, it could also just be a fan theory my brain registered as confirmation haha).

I have also seen Jon stans deny the vision confirms this and insist he is Azor Ahai on many platforms, but the truth of the matter is that Jon is not Azor Ahai; he is likely connected to the prophecy and will play a major role in it, but he is not the main focus/center piece of the prophecy. Daenerys is. They can continue to whine and bitch about it all they want- they'll never really know who it truly is unless the last two books are finished and released.

Of course, G.R.R.M would never base his story like how D&D did it. He outright denied their ending to be in line with his, stating the books would be very much different from the show. He also was open about his frustration with how GoT ended and what D&D had done with his works/story. His writing overall portrays Daenerys as a hero and Azor Ahai, very integral to his plot, and he has stated in many interviews how she would be a good leader, and that she is one of his favorites. Not to mention one of the key five main characters in his books. I've always held out hope that G.R.R.M would finish his works and give Daenerys the true arc she deserves and delve into her role as Azor Ahai. However- G.R.R.M also doesn't like how the director's are changing his story yet again for HOTD, he stated his anger and frustration with them on his blog in a post he made... it is likely that he told the director's some hidden points like he did with D&D- such as Aegon's dream, Daenerys being Azor Ahai, etc. but the director's likely turned this into their own work yet again and carried it out in a way he didn't agree with.

Daenerys' arc and what she learns and experiences definitely should pay off with her winding up as Queen of the 7k and creating a peaceful, new rule in Westeros... likely acting alike to both Aegon I and Jaehaerys I. And I do agree it would definitely be a subversion to the usual fantasy stereotype plotlines. But I also believe that IF D&D were correct about G.R.R.M informing them that Bran would be King, that G.R.R.M also thinks that would be a subversion as well. The cripple, the broken boy everyone thinks is dead- becomes King. It is also unheard of in fantasy for that play and I think G.R.R.M also considers it a subversion of the usual fantasy stories such as that one... but Daenerys would fit just as well if he made her Queen. Even the entirety of the Dance of the Dragons and their story seems to have been made as a leading stone for Daenerys to be Queen and fulfill what her ancestors from the Dance couldn't before- becoming the Queen of Westeros, bringing dragons back, holding a peaceful rule, defeating the Others for good, etc. So it all is complicated to think about and truthfully I think G.R.R.M has set up much more foreshadowing for Daenerys to be Queen than making Bran king. But who knows... this is his story, and he will ultimately do whatever he likes with it for his vision of the storyline/plot, so whoever winds up as ruler is up for him to decide overall and we can't change that. I personally believe Bran would be better as King in the North. All we can do for now is speculate and hope.

Thanks for the message! :)

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot Extra #4

Masterpost

Warnings: none

This takes place shortly after Extra #3

Elliot sat on a stump in the garden, staring at the wildflowers between his feet. His chin rested on a hand as he toed at the dirt.

Master Ambrose’s husband was back, and Elliot didn’t know how to deal with it.

Janus- Lord Janus? Master Janus?- was always there. Just… hanging around. 

It used to be just him and Ambrose, but things were different now, and he didn’t like it.

Elliot sighed.

It wasn’t fair of him. Master was so happy, so light, and had seemingly forgotten Janus’s sins.

But how could Ambrose just forget about it? Janus had been gone for decades, leaving Ambrose lonely and depressed. It was cruel. It was mean.

And apparently Janus didn’t mean for it to happen, and was so sorry, and-

He knew they had argued. Or rather, Master Ambrose had shouted at Janus, and then-

Was that love? Forgiveness?

If he did something horrible, would Ambrose forgive him as easily?

He bit his lip. It wasn’t his place to be upset on Ambrose’s behalf. But Ambrose was more than his Master, he was his friend. His only friend. Elliot just didn’t click well with anyone else.

If Master couldn’t be angry at Janus, then Elliot would do it for him.

Elliot picked up a stick and began to poke at the dirt. At least the weather was nice.

Footsteps rustled the grass nearby, and Elliot could see Janus’s leather boots in his peripheral vision.

Elliot tensed.

“Hello,” said Janus.

“Hi,” he mumbled. 

Janus didn’t say anything, and Elliot realized he had just been pretty disrespectful.

Elliot cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he said, straightening up. “Did you need something, sir?”

He looked up, and Janus tilted his head, searching.

“You don’t like me,” Janus said after a moment, “do you?”

Elliot turned back to the dirt. It wasn’t really a question. Janus would know if he lied, after all.

“Not- not really,” he said, mouth dry.

Janus did not move, and Elliot wondered if he was going to hit him.

“That’s fine with me,” the god said, “I don’t expect you to.”

“Oh.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little,” he admitted. “I didn’t think you’d be nice.”

Janus laughed, dry and brittle like winter grass. “Many would disagree with you there.”

“Well, nice to me, then. You don’t have to be. I won’t complain.”

Janus went quiet, and Elliot wondered why he came outside in the first place.

“What do you want from me?” Elliot asked, tired and resigned. “Just say it.”

Janus sat down next to him on the stump, and Elliot looked up in surprise.

“Ambrose is very fond of you,” Janus said quietly. “You make him happy. I don’t care what you think of me, but I’d like for us to be civil to each other. You won’t be asked to leave.”

“You left.”

“Yes. I’ll always regret that night.”

Elliot thought it over.

“For someone who isn’t nice, you’re doing it a lot.” 

Janus smiled at him, wry and mischievous. “I didn’t say I wasn’t kind. And this is for Ambrose, not for you.”

That made sense. Janus loved Ambrose; he could see it when they looked at each other.

“Alright.”

Janus stood up. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

Elliot watched him leave the garden. Maybe Janus wasn’t so bad after all.

___________________

Elliot knocked on Master Ambrose’s door, more nervous than he had been in a while. Usually he could just walk in after a nightmare, but things were different now.

Tears swam in his vision, and he wiped them away. He wanted Master Ambrose, wanted his comfort that always came without judgment. 

The door opened, and instead of Ambrose, it was Janus.

They stared at each other, and Elliot silently pleaded with him.

Janus stepped aside. “Come on in,” he said.

Elliot followed Janus inside, miserable.

“Ellie?” Master said, putting his book aside. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” Elliot looked between Janus and Ambrose. “Nevermind. Just the usual,” he said, shoulders slumping. “I can deal with it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’ll leave,” interrupted Janus. “I know you don’t want me to hear this. It’s fine.”

“I-” Elliot wrung his hands, shaking and stressed. “No- uh- you don’t have to- I just-” 

The tears began to fall, and he felt like he was drowning.

“Come here,” Ambrose said quietly, and Elliot helplessly obeyed.

He knelt at Ambrose’s feet, and he began to stroke his hair. 

Elliot let out a shuddering breath, eyes screwed shut as he buried his face in Master’s lap, crying.

He’d nearly forgotten about Janus by the time the tears were gone, until he heard water being poured.

“Here,” Janus offered, a glass of water in hand. “So you won’t get a headache.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” Elliot took the glass, sipping at the water.

“Would you like to sleep up here tonight?” Ambrose gently asked.

Elliot shook his head. “I- I don’t want to impose-”

“Nonsense,” said Master Janus. “I can sleep downstairs.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he protested. “I’ll be alright.”

Janus raised a brow, and Elliot’s gut sank. 

“Honey-”

“I’ll be downstairs, my love.”

Janus kissed Ambrose on the temple, and was gone.

“I’m sorry,” Elliot said tearfully. “I- I didn’t mean-”

“Hush,” Master Ambrose soothed, his hand on Elliot’s wet cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“Janus understands, Ellie. There’s no need to worry.”

Elliot let out a sob, anxiety and fear mixing together in a vicious slurry.

“Sometimes I think he’s gonna find me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “He’ll take me away from you. He’ll do awful things to me.”

“I know,” Ambrose murmured, rubbing his back. “He won’t.”

“I keep dreaming it. I feel every horrible thing he does to me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.”

Guilt panged in his heart. “Are you going to send me away?” he asked.

“What? No! Ellie, why would you think that?”

Elliot looked away. “You have Janus. You don’t need me.”

Ambrose tugged his arm, and guided him to sit on the couch. Elliot went without resistance.

“Janus is my husband. You are my best friend.” Ambrose tucked a lock of hair behind Elliot’s ear.

“Neither of you are going anywhere. Alright?”

Elliot slumped against him, tired and relieved.

“Yes, Master.”

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[lily-alphonse]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day!

A thought occurred to me a few days ago and it has been hanging around since then.

Emily and Penny?

Could I imagine them sitting together on an evening, cosy by the fire, Penny reading while Emily makes clothes, sewing or cutting fabric?

Would Emily be Penny's emotional support extrovert? Would Penny be a listening ear so Emily could share her social adventures?

Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you so much!

Hi Kelly!

Mhm mhm I see *nodding very academically*

I totally saw the vision for this ask and then immediately ran into a wall over how the hell they would get to know each other lol

But I had an idea

I think Emily would cut hair. She's not a professional and refuses payment but if people just want like a trim she will set them up in the kitchen wearing a trash bag like a smock and cut (or dye sometimes) in exchange for food, or whatever they have to give. I could see Emily actually really liking cutting hair, getting to vibe with people for a couple hours without the pretense of them drinking or buying something like at work.

So they could get to know each other that way. Penny likes keeping her hair pretty short, but has a hard time doing it herself, and Pam kind of just does what she wants with Penny's hair and doesn't listen.

It takes a while for her to build up the courage to go to her, though. She doesn't know what she could offer in exchange for the haircut, and it all seems very intimidating.

Not to mention Emily herself is a bit intimidating. Everything about her is very loud. She's not scary per se, she always has a smile on her face, but she's different and kooky and Penny could see herself being entirely eclipsed by a personality as big as hers.

She offers her cleaning services, in the end, and Emily decides to recruit her to tackle her absolute disaster of a craft supply closet.

When they're together Emily does most of the talking, which Penny doesn't mind. It takes the pressure off until she feels comfortable opening up. Emily is funny and a good story teller. Penny admires that in a person. There's quite a lot she finds admirable in Emily, from her confidence to her laid-back attitude. She's almost always dancing to some rhythm in her head. She reminds Penny of a quirky book protagonist.

Sudden change of pace here but you know how a lot of real life relationships start out great because they are opposites, and then end because of the very same reasons? Like I read a study once that surveyed people in college and why they got with their SO, and why they broke up, was essentially the same reason. Example: "they are spontaneous and fun", but then broke up because "they can never take anything seriously" / are immature. 

Emily and Penny come close to ending up like this, especially if they get together when Penny is still young. They are both parentified daughters. Penny doesn’t mind mothering so much, but there is a chance that Emily takes advantage of that, jumping at the opportunity to be able to make up for her lost childhood and have someone care for her. 

It would start to grate on Penny how Emily likes to break rules for the fun of it, when rules are often in place for a reason. It was fun when it was dancing in the rain. Less fun when she is carelessly leaving out the trash bin after trash day, leaving Penny to do it all the time.

This relationship would experience major growing pains as they mature and learn proper communication and everything. But maybe that’s the story here, of two people making it work against the odds, since when it’s good it’s really good. It’s quiet evenings by the fire, it’s dancing in the kitchen as they cook. They generally make each other better with their influence, and over time could learn to understand each other better than anyone else.

This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.

[thedawningofthehour]

Hello. This is the person who talked about the Gothel and song thing. I read your post and kind of sat on it thinking about for the last one or two days.

Now I think I understand it a little bit better. So essentially both Draxum loves Gale and Gothel love Rapunzel. However, Gothel mainly values her youth over Repunzel’s safety and love. But still loves her. While, Draxum actually wants to keep Galois safe and is essentially keeping his plans to keep Galois alive at this point? Also, another difference is Draxum is questioning his decisions more compared to Gothel?

I had not Rapunzel a while until yesterday just to see it, and now I can kind of see how Gothel loved Rapunzel, even if very messed up. I remember when the series came out in 2017 when I was in Freshmen High School. And the whole Cassandra arc, and thinking that was how it was in the original movie of Gothel apparently never loving Rapunzel. So it does kind of give me whiplash a little bit when I watched the movie.

And what reading about how people love something else more kind of is making me realize how some relationships with friends and family were toxic.

I am loving the more complicated inner turmoil with Draxum even if I do not see his perspective in any of the chapters. And really love the recent one.

Thank you for replying to this. It has been interesting.

I mean, yes, the main difference is that Draxum's love for Gale can compete with his own goals, while Gothel's love for Rapunzel was dwarfed by hers. But I think I'm actually going to break down the similarities and differences here, because the Gothel comparisons happen a lot and while I definitely do take some inspiration from how she acted, (Draxum frequently talking over Galois is a big one) I really don't want people to view Draxum through a Gothelite lens.

-Number one, obviously, the isolation. Both Gothel and Draxum literally isolate Rapunzel and Galois from the world, with neither being allowed to leave their home or speak to anyone without their guardian's approval. Fucked up, can't get around that. But Draxum's reasoning and goals differ greatly from Gothel's, and that's where we get the distinction.

Draxum doesn't restrict Galois's communication, for one, actually he openly encourages him to talk to people who aren't his father and wishes that he could spend time with peers his own age. This distinction is important because narcissists isolate their victims to better manipulate them, to eliminate outside influences that might teach their child to stand up for themselves and to keep themselves the center of their child's life. Draxum doesn't want that. He very much wants Galois to have a life outside of him, but for practical reasons he knows he cannot.

Which leads into the second aspect of the isolation, their excuse for doing it. Obviously, the main reason in both cases is the fear of their child learning what they'd done, or being targeted for the thing they themselves kidnapped them for in the first place. (Rapunzel's hair, Galois's brain) Of the two, I think Draxum has a better case for justifying the isolation-but the end result is the same, he's still isolating his son out of his own fear. It's somewhat understandable, and not as bad as Gothel-but still bad.

-Putting down your kid and trying to present yourself as superior. This is just straight-up nonexistent in Draxum. Draxum thinks the world of Galois and tries to convey that to him as often as he can, as he knows Galois struggles with self-esteem and needs that reinforcement. Really, Drax has done a 180 from his original vision of himself saving the Yokai with Donatello at his side-after seeing how absolutely brilliant he is, Draxum now views Galois as the one who will save them all. Draxum's role was to create him, protect him, clear a path for him so he could do what he was meant to do-but he fully believes that he will be just a chapter in Galois's history book, and he's happy with that. Galois will be his legacy and he couldn't be prouder.

-Belittling. Draxum is a little patronizing at times, yes. Talking down to Cass's experience and telling Galois that certain behaviors are beneath him, those are probably the most egregious examples. But in all fairness, Draxum isn't intending to make them feel belittled. In his mind this is actually a compliment, he knows they're so much better than how they're presenting themselves. He is aware that it's a shit move though, and he does apologize when he realizes he's doing it. He's just socially inept.

-Ridiculing. Nope, never. Gothel preyed on Rapunzel's own insecurities, calling her naive, ditzy, fat, and implying she couldn't handle herself outside. Draxum would never. For one, his son is incredible. He'd be lying if he said there was anything wrong with him. And he certainly doesn't want Galois to view himself that way. His son is amazing and smart and badass and Draxum knows Galois will surpass him some day. He looks forward to that.

Some people are under the impression that Draxum doesn't approve of Gale's stimming and info-dumping because he encourages him to act 'normal' with other people, and I would like to clarify-Draxum is perfectly fine with all of that. He actually very much enjoys his info-dumps. But he knows that other people will judge him for it and think lesser of him, and he wants to spare Galois that. As much he'd like to tell them all that Galois is saving their ungrateful asses and they should be kissing his feet instead of making fun of how he waves his hands, he knows he can't. Not yet, at least.

-Shaming. Yeah, he is guilty of this on occasion. He doesn't use it nearly as often as Gothel, but when he gets scared he'll definitely break out the "do you want me to lose my son? They'll murder you and I'll have nothing left in the world!" And he absolutely pulled the 'after all I've done for you' line when Gale was caught talking to Mikey.

-Exploiting or corrupting. Oooooh, yes. Obviously, Draxum doesn't think of it as corrupting Galois-he thinks he's merely imparted the truth on him. But their entire relationship began with exploitation, first when Draxum sought to turn this pancake turtle into a superweapon and then when he kidnapped Donnie to exploit his intelligence. Obviously, their relationship has evolved far beyond that, but it's still a dominant theme that Galois picks up on and influences his own feelings of self-worth more than either of them realize.

But on the corruption bit, in all fairness Draxum has been slightly uncorrupted by fatherhood, and Donnie was kind of a supervillain in the making even before. These two actually reinforce the better parts of each other, ironically in a way that probably wouldn't occur in canon. (at least not right away, but even in good futures they'd probably eventually go "hey we should solve climate change" and their mutual desire to help people through their science would come out) Draxum has softened quite a bit and is more open with his own empathy, which he'd force down previously whenever it bubbled to the surface. So really, net negative corruption has occurred.

-Gaslighting. No.

NO.

For fuck's sake, NO. You guys keep saying this! That's not what Draxum is doing! That's not what gaslighting is!

Gaslighting is a tactic in which someone lies to you about stuff you already know. It's telling you I didn't say X, when I really did say X and we both remember me saying X very well. It's moving the furniture around and telling your spouse that it's always been like this and there's something wrong with them if they remember the couch over there. It was my dad stealing my mom's car keys and trying to convince her she lost them when we'd all seen her keys right where she always kept them the night before. (joke's on him, my mom had a spare set and was still able to go to work, and she kept them in her purse until we moved out) It's a tactic used to exert control over the narrative and make the victim doubt their own perceptions, memory, even their sanity.

Draxum is not gaslighting Galois or Cass. He's just lying to them. Galois didn't have to be convinced he wasn't Donatello and that his memories of Donatello were wrong. Galois doesn't remember being Donatello. Draxum cannot cause him to doubt his recollection because there is no recollection Draxum wants him to doubt. Draxum is simply peddling a false narrative.

Now, what Draxum is doing to Raph definitely counts as gaslighting, as they both know full well that Galois is Donnie and they know the other knows that. But at the same time, Draxum's intention isn't to make Raph doubt his own memory. He's doing it for the bit, essentially, because that's how Galois and Cass and Tigerclaw expect him to act. (and a bit of fatherly roleplay, he really likes gaslighting himself into thinking Galois is his real son) Raph is never going to be manipulated into forgetting what Draxum did or actually believing that Galois is a separate person from his brother, but Draxum doesn't need him to. He just needs him to pretend he does.

But Cass and Gale? No, his ass is just lying.

-Triangulation, telling others you're crazy, aligning people against you, and telling you that everyone is a liar except for them. Nope. He does tell Galois that a bunch of people are lying about his origins, but that's to cover a specific lie and not as a manipulation tool.

-Using something dear to you as ammunition. Absolutely not. He did that a few times when Donnie was on his table, but he felt immensely guilty for it afterwards. And none of it was told to him in confidence.

-Ignoring and neglecting. Man could never leave Galois alone long enough to ever qualify for 'ignoring him.'

That's not to say he's never done it. He neglected Bella when he became her guardian and more recently neglected Cass when she moved down to the Hidden City, but he wasn't doing it because he didn't care. He legitimately thought that 'giving them space' was the best thing to do for them at the time. He was wrong, but he did have legitimately unselfish intentions.

-And finally, terrorizing. Portraying the outside world as dangerous and their inner world as a sanctuary. This is where I'm not entirely sure how fair the comparison is. Because while Gothel's main concern was of course someone discovering Rapunzel's magic/princessness or Rapunzel herself wanting to leave her, she still had legitimate cause to worry for Rapunzel's safety. Considering how much Gothel had lived through herself and how she was perfectly happy to live in partial seclusion, she might legitimately be afraid of the outside world. She is still primarily using this narrative to manipulate Rapunzel, however.

Draxum, on the other hand, completely and 100% believes what he says about the world. He truly thinks that the humans will kill his son if he gives them half a chance, so he is determined to never give them that chance. He does have the secondary objective of minimizing contact with anyone who knew Donatello, but that isn't the driving factor behind his decision. Draxum puts on a tough front but really, he is a man absolutely drowning in fear, and considering the possibility of losing his son after all this, after all the others he's lost, after how far he's come, it paralyzes him. He can barely handle even the possibility. He's terrified of the world above and thinks this isolation is the best way to protect his son.

And the thing is, how much does the intent make a difference? Is it better for Galois that his father's poor parenting practices are well-meaning but misguided? Or is it just as bad as when Gothel does it, because the actions are much the same? It's just...a lot of nuance, and I'm going to say Draxum has never seen Tangled and will not see it at least throughout the duration of this fic because I do not want to write his head exploding as he perceives Mother Gothel.

...Goddamn, I wrote a lot.

[moodymisty]

hello! I love your darksiders content! I was wondering if you could write some spicy or suggestive fic with War?

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3]

Author’s Note: I'm glad you like my stuff! I really love Darksiders and I'm always glad to try my hand at writing for the series. There's some crazy good writers in here, so I try my best. I hope you enjoy this as well! I had a small snippet of an idea jotted down for awhile, and your request gave me some ideas and the drive to finish it.

I wrote this mostly from War's pov, since i thought it would be cute. I hope this is suggestive enough ;3

Relationships: War/Fem!Reader

Warnings: A lil' lewd but not full NSFW however still 18+ only, Bathing in a lake, War is a buzzkill and human is a silly thing, first kiss, nudity

"Oh wow, that lake is beautiful."

War usually pays no mind to the scenery around him, but once you mention it, he does take a quick glance off to the side.

You're right; The view is beautiful. The light is shining off the water, which is reflecting the trees in an almost perfect one to one thanks to the pristine nature of the water.

War simply grunts in understanding of you, and agreement.

After that War picks up the pace again, continuing his walk forward. The metal of his armor moves and plates clinks against each other, as well as the soft noises of the leather beneath it all stretching and shifting. He has a destination in mind, and isn't content to meander the entire time.

So he's quite intent to keep moving, up until he realizes that there is a noticeable lack of a smaller, quieter set of human footsteps behind him.

When he does realize he turns almost frighteningly quick for someone of his stature on one heel, a hand flexing and instantly raising to waist height in preparation of grabbing Chaoseater; Before your body enters his vision. You're still just taking a gander at that lake you'd mention moments ago, looking through a sparse gap in the trees.

Safe and sound. He'd had a split second vision of you being gone in his moment of laxness, and he's silently relived it was nothing but nonsense his battle trained brain had conjured up.

War relaxes as much as he can relax, his brow raising ever so slightly; But his lips stay in the usual firm set position as he watches you. Looking at him you purse your lips, leaning slightly in the direction of the crystal clear lake. You take one step towards it to the side, the weight of your pack shifting off center making you nearly stumble.

"Maybe... I can take a dip?"

War looks down at you, almost confused by your wording for a moment, before it suddenly clicks.

"No."

He watches closely at the way your shoulders drop and eyes get wider, backing up in the direction of the lake anyways.

"Come on, please? I feel awful and I know I smell disgusting. I want to be in somewhat acceptable shape before we see anyone else..."

You grumble something under your breath about how he's lucky to have armor keeping his skin clean, though his glare convinces you to purse your lips on that matter.

Most of the time it isn't as if he's smelled particularly peachy keen either, it's just that War cares far less about those sorts of things. Why bother cleaning his armor, if he's going to just re-dirty it the next time he gets into a fight.

Though War has been coming to an understanding over time that Humans do work a bit different than Nephilim, and that it extends to more than just odd speech patterns.

And if it'll make you happy... Then he can live with it.

War continues to stare you down in that typical way he does, one you've been growing used to.

"I'll just be a minute. Promise."

War still finds it a bit odd that you use sealing words like promise and swear on your heart so readily, especially with a Horsemen, but you haven't broken any yet. Part of him wonders if that is a common thing with humans, or just you.

Nodding, the white strands of his hair brush over his cheeks, as you put your bag on the ground.

War however doesn't move beyond him turning his body to face away from you, giving you a clear view of Chaoseater lodged firmly on his back. His arms are firmly planted at his sides, his feet perfectly even with his shoulders.

"Uh..." You stop with a loose grip on the waistband of your pants- not having dedicated to taking them off yet, and once you speak up, War turns back slightly to look at you.

He hears the questioning tone in your voice, hands hovering in front of your stomach as you clearly wait for him to depart so you can fully undress.

War, suddenly realizing even more so the embarrassment of the entire situation, uncharacteristically stutters for just a moment when he speaks.

"I will stay here until you are finished. You will, be at your most vulnerable." He turns away fully once again, implying that he won't look, as he isn't sure he can say much more about the situation without getting red enough in the face that you'll notice.

Perhaps his elder brothers had the right idea when the both began donning masks...

War leaves no further room to combat the issue, and he figures you've accepted this outcome as well; As you don't reply, and he hears your footsteps move away from him more towards the shoreline. There's a rustling of clothes and a grunt of effort as you lean over- to take off your footwear, War guesses.

Then there's another sound; The metal clinking of your belt as you undo it, and the rustle of thicker fabric as you take off your pants. There can't possibly be much more you have to take off, unless you have more hidden layers underneath your clothing that aren't quite visible. You don't wear armor like him, so it's not as if you have to spend an eternity unbuckling piece after piece of plate-

"Ugh, there."

War catches a color fling into the corner of his vision, and daring to glance down, he sees the fabric of your shirt land right by his right boot, his neck quickly tightening as he goes nearly ramrod straight.

By the time his shoulders lower just a tiny bit, he hears the sound of water softly splashing as you step into the lake. It keeps going until you still, and the water only makes noise when you occasionally move or scoop some into your palms.

For the sake of his sanity he hopes that you'll make this quick, as he's not fond of having you out of sight; Something he hasn't really realized about himself until recently.

He knows you aren't entirely defenseless, but this realm isn't meant for humans, and many of it's denizens far out match you in size alone.

"Want to join me?" He suddenly hears you joke, shaking him from his thoughts. He can't think of any sort of response to give you, and so he simply stays silent, unable to make his tongue move.

Having gotten silence in response, War can hear you mumble under your breath:

"Like a statue..."

He's threatened people for speaking like that to him, even less, but you always are able to get away with it. Sometimes he hates how much leeway he gives you, but it's not as if he's made any effort to stop doing so. If anything, he's only given you more as you've spent more time together.

"Woah-!"

At the sound of your yell which quickly gets cut off War turns around and notices you're nearly gone, only the top of your head visible along with one of your hands reaching upward above the water.

Without thinking he rushes in after you, treading full speed into the lake and grabbing you to pull you up. He reaches for the first part of you he can grab, circling his large arm right around your middle to haul you to him. The other is reaching for Chaoseater, holding it outward in preparation to fight whatever had grabbed at you.

It doesn't seem it was anything at all however, as other than shaking your head to get the water out of your eyes, you don't seem at all concerned.

"Ack, thanks, but I just fell."

The was a sudden drop off into much deeper water that you hadn't been anticipating, and it quickly forced you to go from standing to suddenly attempting to tread water. War however had thankfully had saved you from taking in a breath full of water, but also had put himself into yet another predicament.

Your bare skin now presses against his armor and tattered cowl, while your hands grab at the seams of his pauldrons. His gauntlet covered hands cover a good portion of your waist, holding you as if you weigh nothing at all. Then again, most things to War feeling like they weigh nothing at all.

While given how close you are War he can't see anything below your collarbone, it's more so the implication that has both of you stumbling. You're completely bare, water beads spread all over your shoulders, as your hair sticks to your face.

He's frozen, as are you, but neither of you attempt to move away quite yet; And for a moment, his eyes drift down to your lips. Water droplets are still falling down your face, wrapping over your lips and dripping down your chin.

He watches the way your eyes glance away from his for a moment before looking back, and War swears your face is closer than it just was before. Your arms are now wrapped around his neck, water dripping off them and into his armor between the seams and soaking into the fabric of his cowl. He doesn't know quite when you did it, in his rare moment of distraction.

Your breath brushes over his skin for just a moment before you press your lips to his, feeling the way he suddenly and quite enthusiastically presses back.

Your arms tighten around him, while he sheathes his sword safely onto his back before that hand comes to join his other. You're so much smaller than him he has no need to use it, but even if he can't feel you much with his gauntlets in the way, it's still an unconscious desire.

His lips are surprisingly soft against yours, and almost feel hot; Feeling as he lets out just the softest groan into your mouth. You can feel some shorter strands of his hair brushing against your face, large hands pulling you almost impossibly closer. His armor feels cold even after dunking in the warm water, but it is an odd feeling; Metal armor plates on bare skin.

When you pull your lips away from his they do so with a soft pop, before you look at him with a smallish smile.

"Do you, mind sitting me down? So I can get dressed?"

War, quite quickly, realizes you're still technically in the buff, and sets you down and turns faster than you'd thought possible. He trudges through the water in his heavy armor, making it to the shore even faster than you.

And not once does he look, returning to his spot from before like an ever present sentry.

Shaking off more of the water so you can keep your clothes dry, you pull them on with the much more comfortable feeling of being clean.

Well worth the time spent in your opinion. Now you can walk around without the fear of spelling like death itself, or feeling like you're covered in an ever-present coat of grime. It's quick work to put on your top, but it takes a bit longer to put on your pants and shoes, stumbling around to do so.

"Are you finished?" War suddenly speaks, hearing the rustle of your pack as you pick it up.

"Yep. Nice and clean now. Ready to go?"

War grunts, and quickly begins moving. He's considering summoning Ruin to speed this up, though he doesn't dislike walking like this with you. He enjoys the company, something in his many long years he never thought he'd say.

"You know," Your voice fades off, though it's obvious you're going to continue. "Next time you should join me."

War nearly chokes on his own breath, before he decides to quickly summon Ruin; Who canters into scene and disrupts you before you could speak anymore on the matter.

And before War's mind could wander any further off.

[psychics4unet]

Hii love thank you so much for hosting another free game!!🩷🔮Im here for the crystal ball game my question is : where will things go between me and thanh/ how does he feel about me?

My name is London and my sun sign is Gemini♊️

Tysm have a great day/ night 🙏 😊

Hello! ✨ I connected with the Owl Spirit 🦉, the Eagle Spirit 🦅, and the Fox Spirit 🦊 to bring clarity about your situation with Thanh and where things may be headed.

The Owl Spirit 🦉 represents wisdom, intuition, and the ability to see things clearly. This suggests that Thanh may be keeping his feelings more hidden or subtle, but there's a deeper sense of awareness and understanding between you two. He may be observing and reflecting on his feelings before taking any significant steps forward. The Owl also encourages you to trust your intuition about the situation, as you likely have a clearer view than you realize.

The Eagle Spirit 🦅 symbolizes vision, courage, and rising above challenges. It indicates that Thanh sees you as someone with potential, but the situation may require some bold actions to move forward. He may feel an attraction or connection, but it might be something he is still evaluating, looking for the right time or circumstances to fully engage. This card suggests that you both might need to take a step back and gain perspective, as there could be external factors influencing his actions or hesitation.

The Fox Spirit 🦊 represents cleverness, adaptability, and stealth. This suggests that Thanh may be being cautious or even strategic in his approach toward you. There may be an element of him being more playful or testing the waters before fully committing. He might not be fully transparent with his feelings yet, but is likely evaluating the situation to figure out the best way to move forward.

In summary, the energy between you and Thanh suggests that things are still in a period of observation and reflection. While there is potential for deeper feelings and connections, he might be cautious or testing the waters before fully opening up. Trust your intuition and be patient, as things may unfold more clearly with time.

Got questions or need some insight into your life? I'm here to help with personal psychic readings! For just $7, you can get answers to up to 7 questions! More info at:

In case anyone else here on tumblr would like a free psychic reading (message from the animal spirits), Click the link and follow the instructions (I answer only to those who follow the instructions, thank you): https://www.tumblr.com/psychics4unet/768523806797152256/free-psychic-reading-message-from-the-animal