#i hope he feels like hes on top of the world because he is

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ INSTAGRAM UPDATE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 241224: This Christmas, With Love

happy Christmas Eve, my loves!! happy holidays to you and your families! i hope you all have a great day/night with your loved ones. keep warm, eat a lot of delicious food, and i hope you all have gotten all you have wished for this holidays!! this is a long ig update for you lovelies and this is the first of many which are coming soon!! happy holidays once again and all the love, my lovelies 🎄🎉🤍

p.s. one-shot based on the events behind these instagram post, aka JeongNa’s Christmas Eve will be posted soon 👀💞

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ luna's instagram

Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n, ho5hi_kwon, pledis_boos, and 10,763,777 others

lunabae not all gifts come wrapped, some are sung. here’s my gift wrapped in melodies! a little something for the holidays. five songs for someone who makes my world brighter. maybe they’ll make yours a little warmer too! for the one who inspired it and for all of you 🎄🤍

Santa’s biggest secret this year? is that i made this about you, thinking of you, inspired by you, just for you @/jeonghaniyoo_n because Santa doesn’t know you like i do, my angel boy 🪽🤍

this Christmas, with love… out now!!

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jeongnadaily nobody fucking speak to me. i am being so serious rn.

nana-lulu-ya MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS INDEED!! YOON JEONGHAN IS ONE LUCKY SON OF A BITCH 😫

↳ napipopeta17 HOW TF DOES ONE BECOME YOON JEONGHAN?!?

jiyeoniedaily FIVE NEW SONGS?! FIVE NEW FREE SONGS?!? FREE!!!?! BAE JIYEON?! NO, CALL HER SANTA CAUSE SHE JUST ENDED HIM!!

svt_angelcarat LUNA HOW DARE YOU BE THIS THOUGHTFUL I’M LITERALLY CRYING RN. I MEAN, IK ITS FOR JEONGHAN BUT STILL😭😭

↳ jxjforever not us losing our minds as if this was for us… this is for Jeonghan… JUST IMAGINE HOW HE IS FEELING?!??

↳ hanniehaeyo twirling his hair, kicking his feet, and giggling as he writes on his diary.

jeonghan_simp14 ‘Santa doesn’t know you like I do, my angel boy’— IM SCREAMINGGGG THIS WOMAN KNOWS HOW TO WRITE A LOVE LETTER AND TURN IT INTO AN ALBUM???

whitelight_luna THE WAY SHE CALLED HIM ANGEL BOY AND SAID SHE KNOWS HIM BETTER THAN SANTA… she really said “watch this” and gave him the most meaningful Christmas gift ever

↳ ashonash SHE WON. BAE JIYEON WON. PERIOD. THE BEST GIFT. HANDS DOWN. NO ONE IS TOPPING THIS I’M AFRAID.

ohmysvt Yoon Jeonghan. Listen to me. You’re so lucky. YOU ARE SO LUCKY. SHE WROTE YOU SONGS???! A WHOLE ASS ALBUM INSPIRED BY YOU??? JEONGNA WON CHRISTMAS.

caratville_luv GUYS PLS THE LYRICS TO ‘Santa Doesn’t Know You Like I Do’ 💀 ‘He won’t bring you somebody that loves you more than me’— HELLOOO SHE— IS CORRECT.

↳ missbitch ‘so why can't I be the one to give you everything you want?’ GOODBYE I—

moonchild.97 She really out here saying, ‘Santa could NEVER. I KNOW MY MAN BETTER.’ THE WAY SHE LIVES AND BREATHES FOR JEONGHAN 😭😭😭.

seoksoonyoungdazed NOT ME GIGGLING LIKE A FOOL LISTENING TO ‘Winter Things’ 😭 it’s so soft and sweet like… who writes this???! LUNA DOES. BECAUSE SHE LOVES HER MAN THE MOST.

meaniescorner How do I find someone who loves me like Luna loves Jeonghan bc I’m officially unwell over this album.

↳ user17righthere Asked google the same exact question just now 😳

hannie_xoxo She just told the entire world that Jeonghan is her angel boy, gave us five love songs, and changed Christmas forever. I can’t do this rn 😭

luvmoonx LUNA STOP MAKING ME WANT TO BE YOU PLS.

ohhlujeong MISS THING SAID SANTA HAS NOTHING ON HER AND SHE IS RIGHT CAUSE THIS IS A MASTERPIECE 🙌

svt4lifeu SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO?!? TRUE LOVE??! WINTER THINGS!!? WHITE XMAS!!? A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS???? Bae Jiyeon really is that bitch and I’m eating it up. This is love, ppl. THIS IS LOVE. ROMEO AND JULIET COULD NEVER.

hanlu.couple WHO EVEN NEEDS SANTA WHEN YOU HAVE LUNA?!?! I HOPE JEONGHAN IS SOBBING RN. IF HE ISN’T I WILL SOB FOR HIM 😭

↳ gyugyushadow HE PROBABLY IS. I MEAN I WOULD 😭

the14together Santa doesn’t know Jeonghan like Luna does BUT I WISH SHE’D LET SANTA KNOW HOW I FEEL BC I WANT LOVE LIKE THIS TOO 🤩🤩

↳ luv4luna97 HAHSHYAEGWGH THIS CRACKED ME UP 😂 (it’s funny cause it’s true and i relate.)

moonstruckhannie FIVE SONGS JUST FOR HIM? YOU CANNOT TELL ME SHE DOESN’T LOVE THIS MAN MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD.

svt_ot14fam How do we compete with Luna? Like Jeonghan stans… pack it up. THIS IS OUR CHRISTMAS ELIMINATION.

moonjestic97 The ‘Santa doesn’t know Jeonghan like I do’ is ICONIC, but ‘thinking of you, inspired by you, just for you’— my Jeongna heart is sobbing AND SCREAMING.

angelsong97 She’s in love. He’s in love. We’re all in love with their love. This is the most Christmas thing that’s ever Christmassed. MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎉❤️

moonchildsvt This album proves what we’ve been saying all along: LUNA LOVES JEONGHAN THE MOST. PERIOD.

frostedmoons97 Jiyeonie really said “Santa could never” and literally changed the trajectory of Jeonghan’s Christmas and my life. WHAT A WOMAN.

diamondmoonnight This is my official application to be reincarnated as Jeonghan next lifetime bc I NEED LUNA TO LOVE ME THIS MUCH.

↳ iceprincess_luna I hate to burst your bubble but with THIS kind of love… it’s obvious that they’ll find each other again on every lifetime and universe.

↳ hannielover-96 don’t make me cry this is adorable and so true 🥹🤍

warmmoon_hannie Luna gave us five songs but ruined my life because I will never experience this kind of love. Thanks, queen!

caratunit14 This album is the definition of moonstruck and I’M OBSESSED. Jeonghan, she really said, “Only I know you the best.”

noona-luna97 GUYS!!! JEONGHAN’S POST!!! WTF?!? MOM AND DAD 🥹💖💖💖

Liked by lunabae, sound_of_coups, pledis_boos, and 9,652,762 others

jeonghaniyoo_n this Christmas, with my love, my moon 🌙🤍 @/lunabae

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jeongnadaily i just came from Jiyeonie’s post. Please, guys… I’m unwell. Give me a break to catch my breath, mom, dad 🫠

moonsandcarats NOT HIM SPINNING HER ALBUM TITLE INTO ‘this Christmas, with my love, my moon’— STOPPPPP I’M ACTUALLY SCREAMING 😭😭😭

lulunova17 Han. I just managed to stop screaming from Jiyeonie’s post for you… don’t do this to me rn.

jeonghaluvr95 JEONGHAN SAID YOU WROTE ME AN ALBUM, I’LL GIVE YOU YOUR CHILDHOOD DREAM PET. WHAT IS THIS LEVEL OF LOVE????

bunnymoon_97 A BUNNY. HE GOT HER A BUNNY. THE WAY SHE’S BEEN DREAMING OF HAVING ONE SINCE SHE WAS A KID I CANNOT BREATHE.

↳ jxjforever I AM HYPERVENTILATING WITH YOU GIRL!!!

hannieluna_otp The creative genius of taking her album title and turning it into the caption for his post… JEONGHAN REALLY IS IN LOVE LOVE AND SO IS JIYEON 🫵💞💞💞

caratluvangel Luna: gifts Jeonghan a whole ass Christmas album she wrote for him and writes the most romantic caption ever. Jeonghan: gifts Luna her childhood dream pet and writes the most romantic caption ever Me: rocking back and forth, ugly crying in the corner, single as fuck 😭

svtchaosclub A BUNNY!!?! A BUNNY 😭 IYKYK

moonlitangel97 Y’all this isn’t JUST a bunny; it’s YEARS of her wanting one and Jeonghan making it happen. I’M DONE. THEY’RE TOO MUCH.

↳ user7782652 Same 🥹 they are not good for my well being. My heart can’t take it anymore.

lunaticshannie LUNA WROTE JEONGHAN SONGS ABOUT KNOWING HIM BETTER THAN SANTA, AND HE SAID “OK HERE’S THE DREAM YOU NEVER GOT AS A KID. CHECKMATE.”— THEY’RE INSANE.

forevercarat14 His caption. THE CAPTION. ‘This Christmas, with my love, my moon.’ JEONGHAN YOU ARE THE MOST ROMANTIC MAN ALIVE.

moonstruckinlove The bunny isn’t just a pet; it’s a promise. A ‘I see you, I know you, I love you’ moment. I’M MELTING.

the14angels HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE LOVED BY JEONGHAN???? LUNA, SHARE YOUR SECRETS PLS. I’M BEGGING.

↳ sooniesoonsoon THE FACT THAT THIS COULD BE ASKED THE OTHER WAY AROUND IS INSANE 🥹

lunahope_97 She waited her whole life for a bunny but never got one bc her mom is allergic and her schedule has gotten busier as she got older AND JEONGHAN MADE IT HAPPEN. 🥹

↳ lunanovalover I just know she cried. I just KNOW it. I bet all that I have that Jiyeonie BALLED her eyes out.

jeonghanmoon93 HANNIE KNEW SHE WANTED THIS FOR SO LONG. THEY’RE IN LOVE AND HATERS JUST HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.

whitechristmaslove The caption??! HER ALBUM TITLE BUT ABOUT HER BEING HIS MOON???? SIR PLEASE YOU’RE KILLING US.

↳ channieenie99 his moon and her angel boy 🥹🤍

angelhannie-95 They’re not just soulmates; they’re DESTINED. He knows her heart, her dreams, EVERYTHING. AND VICE VERSA. I’M OBSESSED 💖

bunnysvtlover No bc Luna is holding the bunny like it’s her whole world, and JEONGHAN KNEW EXACTLY WHAT WOULD MAKE HER THIS HAPPY 😭

hannieangelmoon It couple behavior 🤭🩷

jeonglunaluv Jeonghan’s love language is just MAKING SURE LUNA’S THE HAPPIEST WOMAN ALIVE, AND I LOVE THAT FOR HER ❤️‍🩹🥹

angelsandmoons Jeonghan really took ‘this Christmas, with love’ and made it ‘with my love, my moon.’ THIS IS LITERARY GENIUS 🤌💋

lunababejeonghan i CANNOT deal with them anymore!! first Luna’s Christmas ep dedicated to Han and now his gift for her being a fucking BUNNY!! Her DREAM BUNNY!! BYE—

moonstruckcarats Jiyeonie’s album is proof that Jiyeon listens, loves, and knows Jeonghan better than anyone else. This bunny is proof that Jeonghan listens, loves, and knows her better than anyone else. WE’RE ALL JEALOUS, RIGHT?!

jeonghanislove Jeonghannie and Jiyeonie are single-handedly rewriting what it means to be a thoughtful partner. A WHOLE ALBUM AND A WHOLE CHILDHOOD DREAM. ARE YOU KIDDING?

bunnymooncarat Every Christmas gift ever has been CANCELLED. THIS is the new gold standard. JEONGHAN DID THAT. LUNA DID THAT. THEY DID THAT. JEONGNA DID THAT.

↳ hanhanhannie-hae THEY WON CHRISTMAS!! JEONGNA WON CHRISTMAS 😫🙌💖

↳ svt-luna MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🎄❤️❤️❤️ THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST CHRISTMAS!!!

lunaversion_ CALL THEM MR. AND MRS. CLAUS

↳ jeongnlover Mr. and Mrs. Yoon soon.. 👀🤍

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[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Gingerbread Toad

Debut: Mario Kart 8

It's a Christmas miracle! Toad, that loud little rascal, has been transmogrified into a cookie! Now, you can eat Toad, and it would be okay! No one will be mad at you! I know I wouldn't.

Like regular Toads, Gingerbread Toad is plentiful, conformist, and expendable! There are many of them in the crowds of Sweet Sweet Canyon, where they mingle with Gingerbread Men and Gingerbread Women. All three genders are represented here! But this is not just an impressive display of cookies as you might see as background decoration in a holiday-themed baking competition show. These cookies jump! They live!

They live, I must assume, in gingerbread houses like this one. I hope this homeowner has insurance, because these Yoshis might just mistake this cookie house for Yoshi's cookie, from Yoshi's Cookie! If you look at the top of the house, you will notice Daisy's trademark flower icon... which brings me to the next point!

Sweet Sweet Canyon is stranger than it seems! In this world, I would be willing to accept a place made of sweets at face value, and Mario has indeed explored such places, but this isn't just ANY sweets place. We can see signs for Peach & Daisy Royal Patisserie around, which I think implies the princesses baked this entire place into existence. For some reason. That's also why there are gingerbread Toads! Gingerbread people are like their own thing. I could see them existing naturally in a Whimsy World like Mario's. But the Toads are personal, surely made intentionally. Peach and Daisy brought life to these cookies... for some reason! A power trip? A marketing tactic? Whatever the case, I don't think it was ethical to grant them life, but deprive them any ability other than "hop up and down". They can't even move their limbs. They couldn't open the door to their own house!

Sweet Sweet Canyon is Real, and anyone in the Mario world can visit it, with the implication that it has its own airport, or at least one close by. Gingerbread Toad could even travel the Mario world! He could fly to Water Park, go on a ride, and get soggy. Would that be fun, for a cookie? I don't know. Maybe he would just want to feel something. What was the point of this post? Oh yeah! Christmas! Santa is going to eat Gingerbread Toad tonight, and that is that. Goodbye Gingerbread Toad!

[hazzashouse]

First Christmas as a couple (Harry Styles one-shot)

A/N: Merry Christmas 🎄! I hope this little Harry one-shot warms your hearts this holiday season. Thank you for reading and supporting my writing—it means the world to me! Stay tuned because I’ll be sharing more festive one-shots in the coming days to keep the holiday spirit alive. Wishing you all a cozy and magical Christmas!

If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a comment, liking, or reblogging—it truly means so much and helps support my work.

Summary: Spending their first Christmas together, Harry and the reader savor quiet moments filled with warmth and laughter.

Triggers: None—this is a soft, fluffy Christmas story with no heavy content.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

The snow fell softly outside the window, flakes swirling under the glow of twinkling fairy lights Harry had insisted on hanging everywhere. The small, cozy living room smelled of pine and cinnamon, the Christmas tree in the corner twinkling with mismatched ornaments. Harry was kneeling by the fire, poking at the logs with careful concentration, his pink lips pursed in focus.

“Harry, you’re going to set the whole house on fire,” you teased from the couch, wrapping your blanket tighter around you.

He turned, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, dimples deepening. “I’m a man of many talents, love, but burning down our first Christmas isn’t one of them.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at the way he said “our first Christmas,” like it was something to be cherished, something important.

Harry got up and dusted his hands off, his emerald green sweater slightly askew, revealing a sliver of his collarbone. He crossed the room and sat beside you, his arm snaking around your shoulders as he tugged you against him.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Maybe because someone made me wait outside in the snow for fifteen minutes while he picked out the perfect tree,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“It had to be just right,” he said, faux-serious. “Our first tree should be special.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look at him. His curls were messy, catching the light from the fire, and his eyes seemed to glow.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “And yet, here you are,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek gently. The kiss was warm, unhurried, and it felt like everything a first Christmas kiss should feel like—comforting, sweet, and full of promise.

When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on you, soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name but felt all the same.

“Harry,” you began, but he cut you off, reaching into his pocket.

“I wanted to give you this,” he said, pulling out a small velvet box. Your breath hitched as he handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a ring,” he said quickly, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “I mean, not yet.”

You opened the box to find a delicate gold necklace with a small charm—a tiny snowflake encrusted with a single diamond.

“Harry…”

“I saw it and thought of you,” he said softly. “Unique, beautiful… and maybe just a little too perfect for me.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you set the box down and hugged him tightly. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, now you’re stuck with me. At least until the tree comes down.”

You laughed, leaning into him as the fire crackled softly. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, everything felt warm and bright, just as Christmas was meant to be.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

All I Want for Christmas Is You (and You)

Pairing: Steddie x reader

Warnings: fluff, celebrating Christmas

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays!

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Outside, snow fell in soft, swirling flakes, coating the streets of Hawkins in a pristine white layer that muffled all sound. The air was crisp, with a faint scent of pine and chimney smoke drifting through the neighborhood. Inside your house, though, the world was warm and inviting. The golden glow of the fireplace filled the room, its flames crackling and casting dancing shadows on the walls.

The centerpiece of the living room was your Christmas tree. It stood proudly in the corner, decorated to perfection with twinkling colored lights, ornaments you’d collected over the years, and an angel perched delicately at the top. Beneath it lay a small pile of wrapped presents, each one tied with ribbons that glimmered in the firelight.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the scent of cinnamon candles burning on the mantle. On the coffee table, a platter of festive snacks waited: gingerbread men with crooked smiles, candy canes nestled in a bowl, and a dish of caramel popcorn sprinkled with crushed peppermint. You adjusted the red-and-white checkered blanket draped over the couch, ensuring everything looked just right for your two guests.

Your heart raced a little in anticipation. Steve and Eddie were on their way, and even though you’d spent countless evenings with them, something about tonight felt special. Maybe it was the season, the magic of Christmas wrapping itself around the three of you like a warm hug. Or maybe it was because tonight, you could no longer ignore the feelings you had for both of them.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. You hurried to answer, pulling it open to reveal Steve Harrington. He stood on your porch, bundled in a long wool coat and a red plaid scarf, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Snowflakes clung to his perfectly styled hair, melting slowly as they met the warmth of his skin.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice soft and warm, carrying that familiar tone that always made your chest flutter.

“Merry Christmas, Steve.” You smiled, stepping aside to let him in.

He carried a plate of cookies in one hand, their intricate frosting designs making it clear that Steve hadn’t been the one to decorate them. As if reading your mind, he laughed sheepishly.

“Robin made these,” he admitted. “I, uh, supervised.”

You took the plate from him, examining the cookies with a grin. “Supervised, huh? I’m sure you were a big help.”

Steve chuckled, shrugging off his coat and scarf. “Hey, I was moral support. That counts for something.”

Before you could respond, another knock—this one loud and insistent—echoed through the room. The door rattled slightly as Eddie Munson let himself in without waiting for an invitation. He was a whirlwind of energy, stomping snow off his boots and shaking it from his wild curls as he stepped inside.

“Ho, ho, holy crap, it’s freezing out there!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying over the crackle of the fire.

Eddie was wrapped in his signature leather jacket, though it did little to protect him from the cold. Beneath it, he wore a battered Christmas sweater featuring a reindeer with one eye missing, the faded design barely visible under years of wear. In his arms was a chaotic pile of gifts, each one wrapped in mismatched paper—some with skulls and flames, others garishly festive with glittering gold and green patterns.

“Merry freakin’ Christmas!” he announced, grinning as he set the gifts on your coffee table with a dramatic flourish.

“Eddie,” you scolded, laughing as you brushed snow off his shoulders. “You’re making a mess!”

“And yet, here I am, spreading holiday cheer.” He smirked, kicking his boots off haphazardly by the door. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

Steve leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. “A giver of chaos, maybe.”

Eddie shot him a mock glare. “Don’t be jealous, Harrington. Not all of us were born to be Mr. Perfect Christmas.”

You rolled your eyes at their familiar banter, stepping between them. “Okay, that’s enough. Both of you, go sit down. I’ll get the cocoa.”

The living room was filled with the sound of the two men settling into their usual spots—Steve on the couch, sitting upright with his hands resting on his knees, and Eddie sprawling across the armchair, one leg draped lazily over the armrest. You returned moments later with three mugs of steaming hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of crushed candy cane.

“Extra marshmallows for both of you,” you said, handing them their mugs. “You’re welcome.”

Eddie took a sip, groaning in exaggerated delight. “Oh, this is the good stuff. I knew I came to the right place.”

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled, his gaze softening as it landed on you. “She does know how to make a mean cup of cocoa.”

The evening passed in a flurry of laughter and friendly competition. Eddie insisted on playing charades, throwing himself into each round with theatrical flair that had you doubled over with laughter. Steve tried to maintain his cool but couldn’t help grinning as Eddie made a fool of himself. The game quickly devolved into chaos, with marshmallows flying across the room as Eddie accused Steve of cheating.

By the time you moved to decorating cookies, your cheeks ached from smiling. Eddie smeared green frosting across his cheek like war paint, declaring himself “the Christmas Cookie King,” while Steve tried and failed to pipe a straight line on a gingerbread man. The three of you worked side by side, the kitchen counter covered in sprinkles and powdered sugar by the end of it.

It wasn’t until you stretched and moved back into the living room that you noticed the mistletoe hanging above the doorway. Your heart skipped a beat as you froze beneath it, your eyes flicking upward.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Look who’s under the mistletoe.”

Steve’s gaze followed Eddie’s, his expression softening as he stood. “It’s tradition,” he said, his voice warm and steady.

Your pulse quickened as they stepped closer, the playful energy between them shifting into something heavier, more charged. Eddie’s usual grin faltered, replaced by a nervous flicker in his eyes, while Steve’s confident demeanor softened, his lips curving into a small, hesitant smile.

“Guys…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “What if… what if I didn’t want to choose?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Eddie blinked, his brows lifting in surprise, while Steve’s jaw tensed as he processed what you’d just said. For a moment, the three of you stood in silence, the firelight flickering across your faces.

Finally, Eddie broke the tension with a slow, lopsided grin. “Not choosing, huh?” he said, his voice quieter now. “I think I can work with that.”

Steve’s smile returned, this time reaching his eyes. “Yeah… I think I can too.”

They leaned in at the same time, their movements slow and deliberate. Steve pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips warm and lingering, while Eddie brushed his lips over the corner of your mouth, his touch light and teasing.

Later, the three of you were tangled together on the couch, wrapped in blankets and basking in the quiet glow of the Christmas tree. Steve’s arm rested around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm, while Eddie’s head lay in your lap, his curls spilling over your thighs.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmured, your heart full and content.

“Merry Christmas,” they echoed in unison, their voices soft and full of promise. For the first time, everything felt exactly as it should.

——

The fire had burned low, casting the room in soft, flickering shadows, but none of you were in any rush to move. Outside, the snowstorm had picked up, winds howling faintly against the windows, but inside was a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

Eddie shifted slightly, his head still resting in your lap as he gazed up at you with a mischievous grin. “You know,” he began, his voice low, “this is a pretty sweet setup you’ve got here. Cozy fire, good cocoa, killer snacks… I might never leave.”

You laughed softly, your fingers absently brushing through his curls. “That’s assuming I let you stay, Munson.”

Steve smirked from his spot beside you, his arm draped casually around your shoulders. “She’s got a point. You’ve already eaten half the snacks.”

“Half?” Eddie shot upright, mock offense written all over his face. “You’re counting? You’re supposed to be the cool one, Harrington!”

Steve shrugged, his grin widening. “Cool doesn’t mean I can’t call you out.”

Eddie opened his mouth to retort, but you interrupted with a small groan. “You two. Can we go one evening without you bickering like kids?”

Their banter ceased instantly, both of them exchanging sheepish glances. Eddie flopped back down into your lap with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, I’ll behave—for now.”

The quiet that followed was warm and companionable. Steve’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, and Eddie’s breathing slowed as your hand continued to work through his hair. The three of you sat there for a while, lost in the peaceful glow of the Christmas lights.

But eventually, Eddie’s restless energy got the better of him. He rolled off the couch in one swift motion, landing on his knees in front of the coffee table. “Alright,” he declared, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket as if it were some sacred artifact. “Let’s make this a proper Christmas—time for music!”

Steve groaned, though you could see the amused glint in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you brought your guitar.”

Eddie grinned, reaching behind the chair where he’d apparently stashed his acoustic guitar without you noticing. “Oh, I did. And lucky for you two, I’ve prepared some holiday classics.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Eddie settled himself cross-legged on the floor, strumming a few chords to test the tuning. “Holiday classics? Let me guess—your version of ‘Jingle Bells’ involves screaming and power chords?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Eddie winked at you before launching into a surprisingly gentle rendition of “Silent Night.” His voice, rough but melodic, filled the room as his fingers moved expertly across the strings.

Steve leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “I’ll give it to you, Munson. You’ve got range.”

Eddie smirked between verses, never missing a beat. “You’re welcome to join in, Harrington. Or are you scared I’ll outshine you?”

Steve rolled his eyes but eventually gave in, grabbing one of the wrapped boxes Eddie had brought. It turned out to be a tambourine—tacky, gold, and probably bought as a joke. Nevertheless, Steve shook it in time with the music, adding a playful rhythm to Eddie’s strumming.

The next hour passed in a blur of laughter, music, and more snacks. Eddie sang everything from traditional carols to offbeat Christmas songs he claimed to have written himself. At one point, Steve even surprised you by jumping in with harmonies, his voice blending with Eddie’s in a way that made you momentarily forget to breathe.

As midnight approached, the mood shifted again, the laughter giving way to a quieter kind of happiness. You all settled back on the couch, Eddie sprawled half across you and Steve, his arm resting over your legs. The tree lights twinkled softly, and the snowstorm outside seemed to calm.

Steve broke the silence, his voice low and thoughtful. “This is… nice. I don’t think I’ve had a Christmas like this in a long time.”

Eddie looked up from where his head was nestled against your shoulder. “Same here. Usually, it’s just me and Wayne—and while he’s great, he’s not exactly the festive type.”

You smiled, reaching out to squeeze both of their hands. “Well, now you have each other. And me. That’s what Christmas is supposed to be about, right? Being with the people who matter.”

Steve’s hand tightened around yours briefly before he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. “You’re not just someone who matters,” he murmured. “You’re… everything.”

Eddie snorted softly, but his tone was tender as he added, “Look at you, Harrington, getting all sappy. But yeah, what he said.” He shifted to kiss your cheek, his lips brushing just below Steve’s. “You’re everything, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks flushed as warmth spread through your chest. The three of you sat in silence after that, tangled together and basking in the quiet joy of simply being there for each other.

As the clock struck midnight, Eddie raised his mug of cocoa with a lopsided grin. “Here’s to us. The weirdest, most dysfunctional Christmas trio in Hawkins.”

Steve laughed, clinking his mug against Eddie’s and yours. “To us.”

You smiled, your heart full as you leaned against both of them. “To us,” you echoed, knowing this was a Christmas you’d never forget.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[okaysonny]

the one where they lose yenna ╎ zack + johan

❤️ @always-lovingly — hope you like it!

ᯓ★ summary: eli bestows zack with the greatest honour: babysitting yenna. nothing will go wrong, right?

ᯓ★ details: fluff, no reader, spoilers for 517 onwards, canon dynamics. (aka zack and johan's relationship is platonic)

ᯓ★ wc: 3.4k - on the longer side...sorry

ᯓ★ A/N: I HATED MAKING THIS!!! comedy is really hard to write + i feel like i waffled too much... made a post about it, but this fic is drawn from s2, ep6 of friends (the one with the baby on the bus)

how did they get ben back with no paperwork/confirmation? idk but it makes my job easier #yes

divider: @thecutestgrotto

"what? you want me to look after zami tomorrow?"

"…her name is yenna" eli smiles at him sheepishly. "and yes. i have to unexpectedly work at the fruit stall. derek got a stomach bug and there's no one to cover for him. plus, the daycares closed on saturdays. would you mind?"

"…eli…i can't believe this…"

of course. eli should've expected this. what eighteen year old wants to spend their saturday babysitting?

"sorry zack. don't worry about it. i'll get someone else to— "

"i can't believe you're trusting me to babysit zam— i mean yenna!" a beam of light is practically shining on him.

eli blinks. he swears he can see zack's eyes well up.

"do you really trust me to? you really think i'm worthy?!"

well, he wasn't expecting that. eli laughs softly, shaking his head. "well…you visit her a lot and you're really great with her. i think you'd do a good job"

zack covers his mouth, trying not to cry in front of the beauty department's only guy. he does visit yenna a lot. how can he not? the fact that the baby he found happened to be eli's daughter…it felt like fate.

he coughs into his hand, composing himself, before looking at eli with determination - the determination of being the best babysitter in the world. "…it would be my honour"

eli smiles softly. he was hesitant in entrusting yenna with someone who misnames her half the time. but now, he doesn't regret it one bit.

"…thanks, zack"

"oh…you really came prepared, huh?"

zack has come prepared. he still owns that baby carrier from before. he also wears something without buttons this time. and he still uses gel, but not too much gel, because the spikes could stab her.

"of course!" he nods enthusiastically. "only the best for zam— yenna! mesh ventilation to ensure maximum comfort!"

eli can't help but chuckle. "that's…very nice of you"

with one hand, eli hands zack a list of instructions and a bag of supplies. his other hand is holding yenna, as adorable as she always is.

"…if anything happens, call me. i'll try make it back as soon as possible" he hesitantly hands yenna over, her little hands grabbing at zack's face.

"ba!" she squeals.

his eyes light up. "zam— yenna!" he cradles her head gently. "don't worry, eli ! she's safe with me!"

he nods, exhaling slowly. he reaches out to stroke her hair fondly. "you have a good time with uncle zack, okay? i'll be back before you know it" he whispers.

eli steps back, checking the time on his phone. "shoot, i need to go. you'll be fine, right?"

zack grins, using yenna's hand to give him a little wave. "yes, yes. go and chop fruit or whatever"

eli waves back and zack watches as his figure slowly gets smaller. he looks down at her, speaking with conviction.

"alright, zami. uncle zack will give you the best day of your life"

"what the hell, man? why'd you bring a baby here?"

okay, so saturday just happened to coincide with his study session. but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

zack hastily covers her ears. "don't swear in front of yenna! this is eli's daughter, y'know?! i'm an uncle on babysitting duty"

johan looks down at yenna with a mix of contempt and confusion, her big eyes staring back at him.

"ba?"

she's holding a baton with the top of a toy wand attached to it. his brows furrow, remembering his fight with eli.

Are you messing with me? What's with the toy?

whoops. in his defense, how was he meant to know?

johan sighs in exasperation and closes his book. "we're not getting anything done if she's here. by the way, don't expect me to help, alright? you're on your own"

"hmph. yenna doesn't want to hear your obscenities anyway" he pats her head protectively.

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, okay"

yenna suddenly starts smacking her baton-wand against the edge of the table, the smile never leaving her face.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

zack stares at the wand, already dented from her relentless attack on the furniture.

"alright yenna, that's enough of that" he says nervously, gently prying it out of her hand. she immediately starts to fuss, her big eyes tearing up.

johan glares at him. "nice job, genius. now she's going to cry"

"hush!" zack snaps. he waves the wand awkwardly in front of yenna’s face. "see, yenna? it's all better!"

yenna, unimpressed, lets out a wail that could rival a siren.

johan groans and presses his fingers to his temples. "you need to get something to keep her quiet. a softer toy maybe"

zack perks up at the suggestion. "hey, we should go to the city! we can grab something real quick!"

"we?"

"yes, we. you're not sitting on your ass while i do this alone" he grumbles.

johan stares at him in disbelief, but yenna’s cries grow louder, and he visibly gives in. “fine. but if she screams on the bus, i'm out”

zack grins, already packing up. he turns to yenna with a cheerful voice. "alright princess, let’s go find you the perfect toy!"

"...gross"

"you're gross" he mumbles, as they make their way to the bus stop.

zack awkwardly adjusts the baby carrier strapped to his chest, yenna wriggling furiously against him.

“why is she squirming so much?” johan asks, sitting in the seat across from him, his arms folded.

“she’s probably uncomfortable” zack shifts the straps again. yenna lets out an irritated whine, kicking her tiny feet against his stomach. “c’mon, work with me here…”

johan leans back. “maybe she can sense you have no idea what you’re doing”

“real helpful, johan. you wanna take over?” he glares at him while holding the carrier steady.

“pass”

“yeah, that’s what i thought” zack adjusts the carrier again, but yenna’s whining only gets louder. people start glancing over, their expressions ranging from amused to annoyed.

“okay, okay. hang on” he sighs in defeat, unbuckling the straps, gently lifting yenna out of the carrier and onto his lap.

“so now you’re happy, huh?” zack mutters. yenna’s only response is a delighted giggle as she smacks his knee with her baton-wand.

“you’re spoiling her” johan comments, deadpan.

“what do you know about babies, johan?”

he shrugs. "if you say so"

yenna, meanwhile, starts squirming again, clearly eager to explore her surroundings.

“you wanna stretch those tiny legs?” zack carefully sets her down on the floor of the bus. she stands unsteadily for a moment, then takes a few steps, laughing as she bangs her toy against the metal pole by their seats.

“...are you seriously letting her walk around here?”

“she needs some freedom!” zack defends himself, his eyes flicking between yenna and johan. "she's only a baby, it’s not like she’s gonna go far"

“...right”

“calm down. i'm watching her!” zack beams confidently, leaning back in his seat while keeping one eye on yenna.

for a moment, the two of them sit in silence, the bus rumbling along as she continues her wobbly exploration of the aisle.

“...y’know, you’re pretty calm for someone who's scared of babies”

johan shoots him a glare. “i’m not scared of babies”

“you totally are! the look on your face when she said ‘ba’ was priceless”

johan’s eyes narrow. “keep talking and i’ll make you ‘ba’ yourself”

they continue bickering, their voices overlapping as yenna toddles around the aisle, occasionally smacking the bus poles with her baton-wand.

the bus screeches to a halt at their stop. zack stands up, slinging the bag full of baby supplies over his shoulder. "alright, this is us"

johan follows closely behind as they get off, stepping onto the bustling city street. the sound of car horns and chatter fill the air, and zack immediately starts scanning the area.

“so” johan drawls, looking around. “what exactly are we looking for? a squeaky duck? a magic wand that doesn’t double as a weapon?”

“something soft, like you said” zack adjusts the straps of the carrier on his shoulder. "i never want to hear that banging noise again"

johan opens his mouth to speak, but pauses. his eyes flick down, then back up to zack, his face suddenly paling.

“...zack?” his voice is unusually tense.

“what?” zack asks distractedly, glancing around for a toy store.

johan's face is laced with panic.

“where’s the baby?”

“what are you talking about? she’s right—”

but she isn't. he glances down at the empty carrier on his shoulders, his voice catching in his throat.

we left her on the bus.

"johan, you rat!" zack snarls. "how could you forget about our child?"

"how the fuck is this my fault? you’re the one babysitting her!" johan snarls back. "and what do you mean our child?"

the argument attracts curious stares from passerby.

zack waves his hand dismissively, his movements frantic. "who cares?!" he yells, sprinting off. "we need to catch that fucking bus!"

zack hears johan groan, but his footsteps quickly follow after, the bus luckily still in sight as it makes a turn.

"it's fine!" zack pants. "we just need to alert the bus driver and it'll be fine!"

they turn around the corner, but stop in their tracks.

they're both flabbergasted as it's joined by two other identical buses on their route, the traffic blocking the vehicles out of sight regardless. something out of a 90's sitcom.

zack's lip begins to tremble. he's a dead man. will he die without knowing mira's touch?

he aggressively shakes his fist at the sky. "OH COMPASSIONATE BUDDHA!!! why have you forsaken me?"

"...what the fuck? relax. let's just..." johan pants, trying to catch his breath. "let's just think, okay? there's gotta be a way to fix this"

they both stand in contemplation.

they can fix this, right?

"thank you! please come again~" eli hands over the bag of fruit cheerfully, waving the customer goodbye.

his smile falters.

strange. he suddenly has a weird feeling.

he shakes his head, shrugging it off. it's probably nothing, he says to himself.

"the transit authority!" zack exclaims, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head. "the bus drivers' hand all lost property to them. we just need to call and let them know we left a baby! she has to be with them! no idiot would leave a baby on the bus!"

johan nods, both of them blissfully unaware of the irony. "i was gonna say that"

zack scoffs. "sure you were. now, all we need to do is—"

zack's phone rings. he looks at the screen, his eyes widening in horror.

"i-it's eli" he stammers.

a smile tugs on johan's lips, slightly amused. he gestures to the phone. "answer it. it's gonna look suspicious if you don't"

zack glares at him, but doesn't argue. he breathes out slowly before accepting it.

"eli !" his voice is incredibly high pitched. "what's up? shouldn't you be chopping lemons or something?"

"i'm on my break" he laughs. "i just wanted to check in. is everything okay, zack?"

"everything's fine!" he chirps. "me and yenna are having a great time!"

"...that's good. would you mind putting her on the phone? i want to hear her voice" he says gently.

fuck.

johan smirks, not even trying to hide it anymore, watching zack in anticipation.

zack closes his eyes, pausing.

he does the only thing that comes to mind, shoving the phone near johan's mouth. the latter's face drops.

what the hell are you doing? he mouths.

zack covers the phone so eli can't hear.

"act like a baby" he hisses.

"over my dead body"

"just do it, you hobo! or i'll tell your mom you failed english again" he glares.

"...you wouldn't"

"wanna find out?"

"um...zack?" eli speaks up again. "what's going on? is she—"

"...goo goo?" johan squeaks, removing zack's hand from the speaker.

zack winces. he's heard better acting in porn.

radio silence.

"is she okay? she sounds a bit—"

"i think she needs a diaper change! bye eli !" he hangs up quickly.

johan stares daggers at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. "i'm gonna beat your ass"

zack shrugs, googling the number for the transit authority. "you can beat my ass after we find zami"

"...i thought her name was yenna?"

the human resources department is a picture of monotony, the ticking of the clock being the loudest sound in the room. the clerk behind the desk often jokes to himself that he lives in a time loop. every day was the same — forms to file, complaints to process, and the occasional awkward phone call. nothing ever changes, and he's stopped expecting it to.

until today.

the phone on his desk buzzes, cutting through the endless drone of routine.

“transit authority here” the caller begins briskly. “we’ve got a...situation. someone called claiming they left a baby on one of our buses”

the man blinks, the pen in his hand frozen mid-air. “a baby?”

“yeah. a little girl. we’ve got her safe now, but we’re bringing her over to your department, since...you know, you handle these things” the voice sounds exasperated, as if they can’t believe they're saying this either.

he swivels slightly in his chair, still trying to process the information. “so, wait. someone just...left their baby on the bus?”

“that’s what we’ve been told” the caller says with an audible sigh. “the guy on the phone sounded panicked. i told him to go to your building”

"...what kind of idiot leaves their baby on a bus?"

“i’m asking myself the same question”

hanging up the phone, the clerk leans back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief.

this is new.

he glances at the clock, bracing himself for what kind of man would walk through the door.

or men, he should say.

the door to the department bursts open, startling the clerk so badly he nearly knocks over his coffee. his head snaps up, expecting one man, but instead, there were two.

they both look like they just sprinted a marathon. the first, a broad shouldered guy with a baby carrier strapped awkwardly across his chest, is hunched over, gasping for air. his face bore the genuine panic of someone who just lost something irreplaceable.

the second young man follows behind him, his sharp eyes darting around the room, like he’d rather be anywhere else.

the clerk stares at them, dumbfounded, as they both stand there panting. finally, he clears his throat, glancing at the baby carrier. “so… i’m guessing you’re here for the baby?”

"y-yes! the baby...we called about the baby! is she here?" zack heaves.

"...she's here"

zack and johan sigh in relief.

"is one of you the father?"

zack rubs his neck shyly. "ah...well no, but we know her very well. can we collect her?"

the older man crosses his arms. "if neither of you are, you'll need to call one of her parents, so we can confirm guardianship"

fuck.

zack looks at johan in wordless communication. it'll be awkward. it'll be difficult. but they both know what they have to do.

"w-what i meant to say was..." zack slowly wraps an arm around johan's shoulder, cursing his sudden high pitched voice. "we're actually both the fathers"

zack leans his head against johan's, trying to control his trembling lip as he smiles sweetly.

the clerk presses his own lips into a thin line, not looking convinced.

johan sighs and briefly scrunches his nose before laying his hand on top of zack's, leaning into his touch. his smile is incredibly fake and plastered. he's afraid he'll commit murder otherwise.

"mhm..." johan manages to croak out.

radio silence.

if the clerk doesn't believe them, it seems he doesn't care enough to press further. he shrugs, gesturing to the door at the back. "alright. right this way—"

that's all they need to hear before they bolt to the door, flinging it open.

yenna is sitting on a small cot, gripping her beloved baton-wand in one hand. she’s completely unbothered, her big eyes scanning the room with innocent curiosity. she gives the wand a few lazy taps against the cot, unaware of the trouble they had to go through.

the moment zack spots her, he rushes over, scooping her up without hesitation. “yenna! we’re so sorry! your uncles are so sorry” he says, his voice filled with guilt. he hugs her tightly, rocking her gently. “uncle zack won't let this happen again, okay? never, ever”

standing just behind him, johan watches silently. "...you’re so ridiculous" he mutters. but zack knows he doesn't mean it. he knows him too well to not spot the softness in his voice.

he doesn’t look back, too wrapped up in stroking yenna's back. "couldn't care less, mommy's boy"

as zack shifts yenna in his arms, her tiny hand stretches out behind him, her fingers reaching for johan. johan hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her outstretched hand, before gently taking her little fingers in his big ones. the room is quiet, the world around them seeming to pause.

johan’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile, one he doesn’t realise he’s wearing. he gently plays with her fingers, a silent exchange passing between them.

zack glances over his shoulder and freezes when he spots it.

a slow grin spreads across his face. “i knew it!” he blurts out, triumphant. “i knew you secretly felt the same way!”

johan's ears turn faintly pink but he doesn't let go of yenna’s hand. “...shut up”

zack snickers. “you don’t fool me anymore! everyone knows you’re actually a big softie”

johan grits his teeth, his grip not leaving her fingers. "whatever, man"

they don't see the clerk silently watching them through the door, his hand hovering over its knob.

he did think they were lying. they were way too jittery to be convincing.

but the sight of the scene made him stop. the broader one, cradling the baby so protectively and murmuring apologies with a guilt-stricken face.

the other, quieter one, gently holding the baby’s hand with a softness that doesn’t match his standoffish appearance.

it’s a moment so tender, so raw, that the clerk pauses, his hand lowering from the door knob. maybe he was being too narrow-minded.

he shakes his head with a bemused smile and turns away, leaving them to their privacy. as he walks back to his desk, he mutters to himself.

"what a progressive world we live in"

after parting ways with johan, who pats yenna's head for a little too long, he sits on a bench, waiting for eli's return.

"okay zami. you had a good time with uncle zack and uncle johan, alright? nothing crazy happened"

"ba!" she chirps back, as if she understands.

zack nods solemnly. "good"

"zack! hey!"

he sees eli walk over, sally with him.

zack spots eli's jaw tense a little less as he sees yenna safe and sound. she instantly reaches out, squealing at the sight of him.

"there you are..." eli beams, gently carrying her. "did you have a good time with uncle zack?" he says softly.

yenna aggresively shakes the wand in response.

he laughs and then looks up at zack. "so, how was it? did she give you much trouble?"

he waves a hand dismissively. "of course not! cool as a breeze. no problems at all"

"wow" sally grins. "eli, you should have him babysit more often!"

eli smiles, his gaze shifting back to yenna. "yeah...thanks a lot zack. i was worried because you hung up suddenly...i guess i was just being paranoid"

i'm off the hook! zack tries not to appear too excited.

he sighs, looking pleased with himself. "psh. don't worry. just had to focus all my attention on her. i'd never leave her out of my sight"

he nods, removing some lint from her clothes. "yeah, i get it. seriously, thanks a—"

he pauses, his smile suddenly dropping.

"hey zack?"

"...yes?" he looks up in anticipation.

is he gonna promote me as official babysitter?

eli turns yenna around, lifting her dress up slightly to reveal a big, bold PROPERTY OF HUMAN SERVICES stamp.

"what's this?" he asks, his voice a little too sweet.

zack's face drops. he can feel comical sweat beads appearing on his forehead.

"w-well that's uh..." he begins, but the words don't form.

eli silently hands yenna to sally, the grin now wiped clean from her face, being replaced with awkwardness instead.

eli smiles at him as he walks closer, pulling his sleeves up and cracking his knuckles.

"sally? please cover her eyes" he says quietly, his stare never leaving zack.

"wait eli !" he splutters. "let's just talk about this! it was—"

PUNCH

"owww! fuck! okay fine! just watch the hair—"

PUNCH

A/N: posted this on boxing day because zack is a BOXER 💜

[stupidlittlespirit]

OKAY BUT SCP FOUNDATION FORD. I feel like young Ford would be absolutely GIDDY to join an organization that he thinks shares his world views and mission- scientifically classifying and studying anomalies. But he would absolutely get fired for being WAY too fucking weird about like everything. He gets too personally invested and obsessed for their liking imo.

I can also see young Ford being weird about anomalous people, who he'd identify with. That's like a thesis in itself, really.

Either way, Ford would get fired and then have a lifelong grudge against them lol

Old Ford would get fired for his general "I know more than you" vibe and be convinced that they fired him out of insecurity.

Dying to hear what head cannons you have for SCP Foundation and Ford 💞

Okay so I have spent way too long thinking about this because I actually wanted to write a fic about it and I’m very devoted to the whole concept in general, so this all applies to the Ford-SCP AU I have in my brain.

I’m so fond of the series. I was often on /x/ as a kid (not the rest of 4chan because, duh) and I would spend hours on it, reading up on greentexts and believing every single fucking word. I desperately wanted to work for the shadowy American governmental orgs that kept these creatures in containment/a secret, and I was devastated when I grew up and found out that they weren’t real. (A part of me holds out hope that they are a real organisation but if America was covering shit up, we’d know because they fucking suck at keeping stuff on the DL).  

Anyway, let’s get into it, and remember that I’m playing fast and loose with everything SCP related because everything is canon and therefore nothing is canon! 

Below is everything from my AU ideas to Ford’s behaviour to fucking SCP/Ford ships because fuck it why not:

I think you’re right: young, starry eyed Ford would be psyched to get to see that kind of thing, but I do think that he’d be too focused on carving out his own path to allow himself to get wrapped up in the government’s red tape. It would be something he enthusiastically pencils into his diary and intends to follow up on, but never does because of how things unfold. 

Post-Portal Ford, however, is going to be The Guy for them. His personal intellect is attractive enough, but Ford has a lot of stuff going for him on top: he’s travelled interdimensionally, he’s spent time in places that would get even 05 Council Members to sit up and take notes, he’s had talks with beings that the Foundation would give their child’s left kidney to be privy to (not that they wouldn’t sell their kid for a bag of magic beans anyway but whatever) and he’s got more than enough knowledge to hit the ground running with minimal (perceived) liability for them. I mean, Bill alone has to be a Keter / Apollyon type object, surely? World ending scenario and all that. 

I think he would still be very personally invested and enthusiastic at that age, too. He would do better at trying to be aware of himself because he’s more conscious of being taken advantage of, but he wouldn’t be able to help himself when it came to just being a total nerd about it all. 

How does Ford get picked up by the Foundation?

He’d be recruited thanks to his extensive publishing on the weird and wonderful stuff within Gravity Falls (which at some point is also catergorised by the Foundation themselves) and his travels with Stan, and he would be head hunted to work for the Foundation. 

And he’d say no at first, because he’s not going to work for the government, what are you, insane?! He would want nothing to do with them, and Stan, equally, would be wary of them because nothing good ever comes from the Feds, right?  But the Foundation would be persistent and they’d give Ford appetising incentives (funding, support, tools etc) for his own research, so he’d eventually give them an inch because he'd grow to wonder what they might have on offer and they’d then introduce themselves. 

Ford would be wary but as we all know, he’s a curious cat and it doesn’t matter how many times he gets run over, he still wants to know what’s on the other side of the road even if it means weaving between cars with a blindfold on. 

Ford is obviously going to have a vested interest in the anomalies because of his own abnormalities, however I do think he’d be laughed at for even considering himself a ‘freak’ because… well…. Take a look at the guys we’re dealing with here and then say ‘having six fingers makes you weird’ with a straight face. 

Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be empathised with by some of them, even by some of the staff, but some of the beings in the SCP universe are so extreme that having six fingers is an easily-overlookable trait. I mean, the reactions would range from “okay, and….?” to “good lord, get a grip, there are real problems out there in the world, man!” to “oh my god that’s cool, he’s just like me fr”. 

Ford would quickly learn that whatever research he’s done/is doing is really nothing in comparison to what the Foundation does. Not that his work is of less value or anything, just that the Foundation is so large and the breadth and scale of their work would be unbelievable to him. He’d still think he knew best in a lot of ways but he’d be willing to listen and learn from the researchers and scientists that he did admire.

However, Ford would definitely manage to piss off every other person on the site he gets contracted to LMAO. Except the scientists he respected, though perhaps even them sometimes. Oh, and the nicer/less serious D-Class personnel, because they’d often remind him of Stanley and he’d be rather grossed out by the process of sacrificing those lesser prisoners to creatures in the name of governmental gain, so he would make an effort to be patient with them where he can. 

Not to mention that he’d kick AWF if he found out how loosey goosey the regulations are around picking prisoners for testing…. We know the Foundation has a habit of taking anyone with a life sentence/death row conviction, but we also know that not every convict is guilty. On top of that, we know they’ll take literally anyone if they really need to get some tests done and they don’t really give a fuck what the D-Class has done. I mean, they’ll take civilians too, so. I don’t think Ford would be okay with that. 

If they’re actually just awful people then he’s not likely going to care as much of course, but sometimes I read/listen to reports with D-Class in them that have just sold drugs or something, and the researcher’s are like yeah fuck it put weed-dealer Greg in the box with the mutated crocodile made out of poisonous spikes and shake it really hard, it’ll be funny! I think that would upset Ford and he wouldn’t be afraid to kick off about it (after all, any of those D’s could have been his brother at one point, right?) 

Staff members:

In terms of working with specific staff members, he’s obviously not going to have much to do with MTF or even any of the agents etc, really. Not unless he would require specific information from them during a test or something. There could be crossover if he was to get pissed off at how poorly executed a field expedition went or something, but I expect that his main area of interaction would revolve around Researchers and Objects themselves. 

Let’s talk about my beloved Dr Bright. I think Ford would have a careful appreciation for Bright. As we know, Bright is a bit nuts. He’s very eccentric and volatile, but very intelligent and good at his job as well as being personally afflicted, what with his brother’s objecti-fication within the facility. Ford would recognise Bright’s appreciation for suicide (bless him, real recognises real) given all of his own personal issues and understand why Bright might be so difficult.  

I do, however, think Ford would also be exceptionally wary of Dr Bright, given the way he’s bound to SCP-963. If you don’t know, 963 is a medallion/necklace and if you wear it you’re immortal. However, it’s tied to Bright and if another person wears it, their mind is basically wiped and replaced with Dr Bright’s. So, it would be very close to possession and for Ford, that would be very triggering, I think. Ford would be amenable with Bright and even appreciative of his work, but he’d be too nervous about 963, even if the likelihood of him being made to wear it was low. 

Next up is another fav: Dr Alto Clef. Now, I think Ford would have a love-hate relationship with Clef. 

Clef is reeeeally smart and very talented. He’s also very eccentric and weird, and is also anomalous himself, so Ford can get behind that. But Clef is also a fucking nightmare. He lies and is gross and unethical (was an awful misogynist, but possibly isn’t anymore? Hard to know for sure because there’s a LOT of information out there and no hard canon), though I don’t think he’s an irredeemable guy. Most notably, Clef has what he refers to as a ‘deformity’. He underwent anomalous alterations that prevent his face from being photographed and gave him resistance to reality shifts. Clef is described in files but you just can’t ever see a photograph of his face.   

Though I think Ford would tire of Clef quite quickly, he’d be willing to give Clef more rope than Bright. I think Clef has a tendency to be kind of jammy and very funny, so I daresay Ford might be fonder of him than he’d let on and he wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable around him as he might with Bright’s 963 issue. Clef is also aroace! Yay!

Clef lies a lot though, so he might be more inclined to kick it with Stan than with Ford in terms of down time lol 

Onto Everett Mann. Dr Mann is said to have always felt like an outcast and he was also manipulated by an entity (Mr Lie) into doing something that put others at significant risk. I think he and Ford would have a kinship with that and they’d be friends. Technically, Clef killed Mann in one AU but whatever. No big deal. I think Mann is really funny and sweet, and he’d get on quite well with Ford. 

Honourable mentions for: 

Dr Elliott - known to be a too involved in the anomalies she works on and often gets fucked up by them because of it.  

Dr Glass, because obviously. We love Dr Glass in this house! I think Ford would always be wary around a psych professional but he’d be thrilled to hear about other SCP’s and understand their ways of thinking. I think Glass would also have a field day with Ford and he’d fill up at least 4 notebooks worth of psych-eval notes on him :) 

And there are more but there are SO many more that I can’t get all of them down here or I’ll be sitting at my PC forever. 

In terms of the actual anomalies that Ford becomes fond of:

Well, we have to start off with my absolute all-time favourite: SCP-507.

I highly recommend checking out Volgun’s video on him because it’s great. Frankly, all of Volgun’s videos are great if you’re interested in learning about SCP’s in a lore accurate way. 

SCP 507 is Ford’s special little guy. Ford LOVES him. Do I ship them? Kinda. That’s my business okay don’t judge me. 

In fact, I believe Ford likes him so strongly that I think when 507 requests a hug from personnel, following a traumatic shift, Ford is the one who grants it to him. I don’t care if the timelines don’t match up, I don’t care about anything that makes that impossible. I want 507 to get a hug and I think Ford gives great hugs. Ford would even volunteer to be his escort if he had the time to spare and I think he’d let 507 hang out in his lab sometimes. 

507 has always broken my heart because he’s so scared and so alone, and they won’t let him leave or really do much of anything. He really has nobody and he has 0 control over everything in his life, and I think that would resonate with Ford a lot. 

He’d be highly interested in SCP-2700 because it’s made by his All Time Fav hot scientist Nikola Tesla. While 2700 isn’t humanoid, I think Ford would be super geeked about it solely because it’s Tesla based haha.

I think Ford would also love SCP-1762 (aka ‘Where the dragons went’), too. I find 1762 to be a really sad story and I think others agree, and Ford would enjoy them. They’re cool (origami dragons fuck yeah) and cute, but also poignant. 

He’d be naturally curious about SCP-096 but obviously, due to its nature, would have to give up the ghost on that one. 

I think Stan would like SCP-1472 aka the Multiverse Strip Club. Naturally. He’d be at risk of wandering in but, respectfully, he ain’t going to Illinois. Not for all the strippers in the world. 

Like Researchers and other personnel, there are SO many SCP’s that I can’t even remember all of the ones I think would be most relevant/enjoyable for Ford so if you have something you think he’d like then please please hit me up because I’d love to talk about it with you!! 

Ultimately, I think Ford would do some great work and make friends with some of the more pleasant scientists, and he would really enjoy himself up until he stopped enjoying himself lol. I think he’d quickly realise how controlling the Foundation is and how they refuse to let anomalies be known to the public, rightly or wrongly, and Ford would refuse to play along with them. 

He’d be vocal about his disagreement with the treatment of some anomalies and with regard to the treatment of personnel, and he’d stand strongly against any corruption, which means he’d never see eye to eye with them. Many such cases, if you take the time to read the entries. 

So, they’d fire him or he’d walk out. You’d never know for sure because Ford would insist he left of his own accord and the Foundation would insist that they [REDACTED] so… It would be a mystery. 

And the Foundation would let him leave, by the way. Their knee jerk reaction would be to terminate him, of course, but he’d leave such an impression on some of the other scientists that they’d somehow manage to convince their higher-ups that Ford offered value that would be lost upon his death, so they should let him live and just try to monitor him instead. 

Ford, being Ford, would sniff out all the monitors every single time they tried to trace him and Stan (with his great knowledge of wire taps) would help him debug their house etc if they needed to. 

Eventually, the Foundation would say fuck it, this guy is annoying as fuck, and let Ford deal with his own containment specialisms while keeping a distant eye on him/Gravity Falls at large. 

….Can you tell this has been on my mind for a while? LMAO I’m so sorry this answer got sooooo out of hand but I love GF and SCP so much that I can’t help myself. I hope that as I get better at drawing I can make some crossover art for them because it would be too cute. Plus, like I said, I’m still considering writing this. I might make a reader one but also do a gen crossover because I think it would be a riot. 

If anyone else wants to make stuff on this then please do but pleeeeease tag me because I need to inject it straight into my veins. 

[wen-kexing-apologist]

WKA Recaps QL 2024: Favorite Characters

Thanks for the tag @my-rose-tinted-glasses and thank you to @abstractelysium for the prompts! Since I have watched 60 QL (or adjacent) shows this year, I am going to keep this specifically to my favorite characters of the queer shows that came out this year, and exclude older shows that I watched this year. (Which is for the best because it would just be Namgoong all the way down). 

So here are my Top Ten in no Particular Order:

Akafuji Yuchiro- I Became the Main Role of a BL Drama 

I love me a little freak. 

This boy is such a loser idiot boy and I appreciate how unapologetic he is in his unrepentant, overflowing love for Aoyagi Hajime. I love that one of the barriers between him and Aoyagi getting together is that Aoyagi thinks that Akafuji is cold and detached simply because Akafuji is trying so fucking hard not to McFreaking Lose It over the fact he’s working with Aoyagi. And I mentioned this in another post before, but I think one of the most important things we got from Akafuji is his ability to set clear boundaries between fandom and reality. He can love Aoyagi as his fan, but he knows he needs to stop considering himself Aoyagi’s fan the second he realizes his feelings have moved into something deeper. 

Kasuga- She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat 

This is kind of unfair because I love all the women in this show. But Kasuga will hold the special place in my heart for standing up to her father and choosing herself and her found family over societal expectations and demands of the patriarchy. This feels especially important in a character like Kasuga who is so quiet, reserved, and relatively passive. We have seen other places where she hasn’t spoken up for herself, even in settings with people she loves and trusts (like when she wanted to go strawberry picking) and it is huge for her to actually make the choices she makes as they relate to her bio family. And I also think that it doesn’t feel like character growth that comes out of nowhere either, because she has been engaging in acts of resistance since the moment we meet her. As a child she was not allowed to eat as much as she wanted, but she allowed herself to eat as much as she wanted when she became an adult. Sure, it’s more a quiet act of rebellion, but I love it as an indication that Kasuga has always been strong, despite her more reserved nature.

Go Yeong- Love in the Big City

THIS IS MY FUCKING GUY! It is incredibly important to me and not only important but downright vital that I read this book before I watched the show. I remember discussing during book club that in the first couple chapters I was really struggling with Young as a character. Mostly because I had intense insight into his inner thoughts that I would not and did not get when watching the show. I knew, or at least sincerely hoped, that by the end of the book I would love Young as a character, and I was correct. And it was really important to me to see a performance of Go Yeong that would honor the book character, and I do sincerely believe that Nam Yoon So did just that. I do believe that Go Yeong appeared like I would expect Young from the book to have appeared had I not been inside his head. I really appreciated seeing his growth as a person throughout both the book and the show, and he will stick with me for quite some time. 

Cha Yeo Woon- Love for Love’s Sake

Another show where I love almost all of the main characters in it. But I want to talk about Cha Yeo Woon who cannot hate anyone as much as he hates himself. The -100 floating over his head was a major fucking blow, and I just love how readily he falls in to loving Myung Ha once he starts to have a little bit more faith in himself and the people around him. When that boy smiled for the first time the entire world got brighter. He is such a great character, and one of my favorites, because everything that character does and is and everything Cha Joo Wan gives to breathe life into that character means you can absolutely understand why Myung Ha goes through hell to save Yeo Woon. 

Wei Qian- Unknown

This man has been through so much, he has lost so much, he has gained so much, and he has fought tooth and nail for everything and everyone he loves. He is such a good character, desperately trying to hold his family together, as much as it sucks for him I do appreciate that we got a character with a chronic illness/chronic pain. It feels so rare when characters have been through shit that there are actually serious physical consequences for the abuse they have gone through. And again, a major reason why he is one of my favorite characters this year comes down to the absolutely killer performance from Chris Chu. 

Venice Barros- Marahuyo Project 

VENICE!!! WE GOT A TRANS GIRL IN A SHOW THIS YEAR!!!!!! AND SHE IS BEAUTIFUL AND OUTSPOKEN AND SO SO SO FUCKING EMPATHETIC TOWARDS PEOPLE SHE LOVES WHO HAVE HURT HER BECAUSE THEY ARE SCARED AND GRIEVING AND TRYING DESPERATELY TO CLUTCH TO THE ONLY THINGS THEY FEEL WILL PROTECT THEM. God I love her, and her incessant rambutan eating, so fucking much, I am so glad that she exists and I am so glad she has people like King and Lorena and Lili and yes even Archie in her life, and I am even more glad that they (and Archie especially) have people like her in theirs.

If you have not gotten around to watching Marahuyo Project please take this as a sign to do so. 

Makoto- No One Cares for an Old Man’s Underwear

DAD OF THE YEAR! I loved watching his growth arc, knowing how much he loves his family and how that love is what really causes him to start re-evaluating his worldview. Yet again there are so many incredible characters in here that I will carry in my heart as favorites. But I think Makoto especially deserves a shout out because he is still allowed to fuck up sometimes, and he’s still allowed to learn, and despite the fact that sometimes he stumbles and falls and ruins things, he makes me cry because he is devastated to have hurt the people that he loves, and he doesn’t give up. That is so goddamn important in a character like him. It would be so easy for him to hit his first roadblock and to simply throw up his hands in defeat and decide that it was all too hard and instead he just keeps trying and trying until he’s found his way back to his family, to friends, to a love and connection that he has not had with people in a very long time (or possibly ever). 

Shiba Ryoma- Love is Like a Poison

I cannot express how important it feels to me to have a character like Ryo, who is so serious and generally reserved have a queer awakening and just immediately lean in to it. He does not run from the idea of intimacy, and he does not back down in his love and support for Haruto. Which was such a refreshing surprise. This is a man who has until this point valued his career and his ability to win cases above pretty much everything else in his life. And it really felt like a moment of triumph for me to see him stand in front of his boss and be like “this is my boyfriend,” and to be faced with a choice between his career and his lover and to choose his lover. I’m glad Haruto and Ryo have each other and I am glad that his coworker has another queer person in the office (though I kind of suspect that he clocked Ryo before Ryo clocked himself). Also, he is responsible for one of my favorite scenes of the year. Squaring up only to immediately get his ass beat into the ground because why the hell would he know how to fight? Also, he is the plant dad of all time.

Lee Doe Hoe- Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Doe Hoe is such a good example of what the behavior of an abused child looks like. He is a really interesting and complex character that I appreciate having in my life. I kinda loved that despite how good he is at taekwondo he doesn’t fight with people. The great tragedy of not understanding why people would want to hit each other because he has grown up being physically abused by his father. I really liked (from a narrative perspective) that he was an incredibly successful student and that he continuously failed the college entrance exam, the way he falls as a student because of the anger and sadness and guilt that he carries for calling the police that day. This man is fucking frustrating in so many ways and yet I completely understand why he is the way he is and, similarly to Kasuga, I really appreciate the where and how he bucks convention and stands up for himself. He does not care about the optics around the way he handles himself at his father’s funeral, he does not grieve that man, so why should he pretend to appease the judgement of others? I’m really glad that having Ju Yeong back in his life gives him the inspiration he needs to try again to go to college, and while we do not get to know the results I truly believe that he will finally succeed. 

Sin Ju Yeong- Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo 

Y’all know I love myself a happy!sad and there are few people who so strongly represent the things I love about a happy!sad as much a Ju Yeong. That boy has been through so fucking much, and he hides a lot of his pain behind what I do believe is a genuine love and joy for life. But I think that joy for life, and the desire to spread joy to Dohoe really manifests in the recognition he has of himself in Dohoe’s sadness, and the knowledge that there are things he can do to help change that. I love Ju Yeong because he does not back down, he still carries shame around his sexuality (I see you cross necklace) but he will stand up for himself and he will not shy away from intimacy and desire. From a narrative perspective I love that that mask of brightness he had that was so blinding and attractive to Dohoe when they were kids is shattered when he loses Dohoe. Who we see when he’s in college and when he’s working a job is who he really is, and I love how much Dohoe tries to twist the knife in Ju Yeong by pretending like Ju Yeong wasn’t as lost and alone and hurting as he was just because he would make himself smile. I love how much of Ju Yeong’s character makes sense because his entire life has just been abandonment after abandonment from people that he loves and cares for. That he takes punishment to spare Dohoe, that he does not let Dohoe push him away when they reunite as adults, that he tolerates a lot more of the nasty shit that Dohoe tries to say to and about him because he cares and he knows that Dohoe scares. I love that Dohoe’s hatred of violence is what causes Ju Yeong to lose his control and kiss Dohoe for the first time, and that it is violence that Ju Yeong resorts to both to protect Dohoe and then later to help Dohoe set himself free by trashing the dojo.

tagging @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup, @solitaryandwandering, and @emotionallychargedtowel, @happypotato48

[2000sangel]

⋆⁺₊❅. GuitarSpear x GN!Reader - This year, I give you my heart again ⋆⁺₊❅.

Self indulgent Adam x Lute x Reader fic I cooked up - Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy <3 (Sorry for OOC Lute, first time writing her !!)

Divider credit : cafekitsune

Your eyelids flutter open, eyes easily adjusting to the soft light shining through the curtains of your shared bedroom’s French window. You stare at the ceiling for a bit, wondering what time it is, before being interrupted by a particularly loud snore coming from your left.

You make a face, looking at still asleep Adam, lying on his back with Lute on his left and you on his right, his wings sprawled out on the king sized bed and only his legs being covered by the blanket, but your expression softens when he mumbles something in his sleep that you can’t quite catch and nuzzles his face into your hair.

Rather than his usual tank top and boxers, he’s wearing a pretty thick black sweatshirt and a pair of matching sweatpants; he claims to not feel the cold, but you can see him visibly shivering every time he opts to wear his usual attire around this time of the year, so you and Lute force him into cosier clothes.

His brown hair is a mess, and his mouth is slightly open and- ew, is that saliva on the corner? With a sneer you decide not to dwell on your messy sleeper of a boyfriend, and focus on your girlfriend Lute instead, who on the contrary still looks like an angel, even if you now reside in the depths of Hell.

She’s lying on her right side, her head gently resting on Adam’s bicep. Not exactly a fan of physical affection, she’s not properly cuddling up to him, rather she’s curled up on herself. One of her wings is tucked under her arm, while the other is stretched out on the mattress much like Adam’s. The fact that she’s wearing one of your sweatshirts makes you smile, she had forgotten that her warmer one was in the washing machine last night so she opted to rummage through your wardrobe and pick out something from there instead. Her leggings match with the colour, she likes going for combinations even around the house.

Cute, you think. They’re really cute. You almost forget your drowsiness, and that you struggled to fall asleep last night because today is finally Sinsmas.

...

...wait.

You sit up, and you’re sure that if music accompanied your every action, a jolly tune would be playing in the background right now.

With an excited grin, you ponder on whether to sneak into the living room and put the gifts you’ve gotten for your loves under the tree or to wake them up so you can all just exchange them together. Hardest decision of your life, clearly.

Another idea pops into your head...what if you put the presents under the tree and made them a tasty breakfast? Spoiling your two favourite people in the world and on Hell, that sounds like a wonderful plan, yes. This is what you settle on.

You do your absolute best to avoid waking them up; you were half laying on Adam’s wing while you slept, so you have to basically do acrobatics to get out of bed without at least him noticing. You eventually manage, though, and quietly dig into your own closet in search of the various packages you’ve prepared for them.

Once you get a hold of everything, you finally sneak out of the room and into the living room, placing everything under the Sinsmas tree like you intended to, thinking up some good ideas for a fun breakfast that you could prepare in the meantime.

Doing that is way easier once you’re in the kitchen, with a large recipe book in your hands; it was technically a gift for Adam, since he can’t cook or bake shit, but all three of you use it regularly because the stuff that you can make out of it is just that good.

Chocolate chip cookies...too long to prepare, you’re not even sure you have the chocolate chip. Blueberry pancakes...you could try, you’ve got all the ingredients after all, Lute loves blueberries so you always have a few bowls of those in the fridge. Hm...maybe some scrambled eggs could work too...no, you’ve settled on the pancakes by now and you also had the genius idea to make smoothies to accompany them too.

You quickly close the book and get to work after glancing at the clock hanging above the entrance door; 10:05 AM, they could wake up soon!

Flour, baking powder, sugar, eggs and everything else are set on the counter, along with the blueberries that need to stay out of the fridge for a bit or else they’ll be practically frozen...wait, you have other fruit too! Adam loves banana, so you grab one of those from the basket in the centre of the table.

You multitask with a big goofy smile on your face; you make a good amount of pancakes for you three while preparing smoothies with a mix of fruits that you have around the kitchen, and some milk. You assign different tall cups to each one of you, as Adam likes his smoothies with bits of fruit in them while Lute prefers them smooth and liquid.

You hear them shuffle in the bedroom after a bit, just about when you’re done with the last plate of pancakes- yours.

Adam comments on the gifts under the tree before smelling the air and following an imaginary scent trail leading to the kitchen, where you’re already sitting down at the table, grinning up at him and at Lute following right behind.

“Good morning!” you greet them in an almost sing-songy tone.

“Holy shit, good morning babe, what’s this?” Adam asks you, gesturing to the sweet treats laying on the already set kitchen table.

You shrug and look away, with a smile on your face still.

“Oh, nothing...just sit down and tell me how these taste!”

Because of your averted gaze you don’t notice Adam walking up to you, until he’s close enough to plant a big kiss on your temple. Lute simply fluffs up her wings at the sight, and stretches a bit before sitting across you where she recognizes that you’ve placed her plate and drink. Adam follows her example and sits at the head of the table, immediately digging in.

Your girlfriend hums pleasantly as soon as she starts chewing on the pancakes, sleek eyebrows rising.

“I don’t remember you ever making pancakes. They’re so good, dear, especially if it’s the first time,”

You fake sob at her sweet compliment, and mutter a thank you before taste-testing your own creation. Adam is too busy choking on a banana slice to agree with Lute, which makes you giggle and your girlfriend roll her eyes.

---

Putting the dirty dishes and cups in the sink, you all agree that you can take care of those later- right after opening the presents, which you are all super excited about.

Lute claims the couch right after she and Adam go get their presents for you and each other, she lies on her stomach and rests her arms on the armrest while she waits for the unwrapping to begin. Adam chooses to sit on the floor near the tree, he’s known to be lazy and everything is easier to reach that way, while you sit at the foot of the couch with your back resting against it- Lute’s wing gently grazes your shoulder.

“Alright! Who’s starting?” you ask, randomly grabbing a small flat package all wrapped up in golden gift-wrap. Adam smirks;

“That one’s for you, nice packaging, ay?” he brags, and you snort while second glancing at it. It’s a bit messy, but you appreciate the effort.

After a bit of a struggle to open it –he’s put an excessive amount of tape on it- you eventually manage, and if your smile could grow bigger you bet it would. It’s a videogame that released very recently, and that you haven’t had the chance to buy for yourself yet...Lute is not a big gamer, so of course Adam is the one who knows all about what genres you’re interested in, since all the consoles you own he’s bought.

“Oh, videogame?” Lute tilts her head to see better, “Nice, I didn’t know about this one actually.”

“Yes! I’ve been avoiding spoilers for a while because I was waiting to get paid to buy it...” holding it close to your chest, you thank your boyfriend, who nearly melts at how cute you look.

The next gift that gets unwrapped is for Lute, from you; as she carefully removes the paper around it as if to avoid ripping it apart, you turn towards her;

“Premise: I’m not creepy for remembering about this, okay...” she makes a face, “You just never really talk about what you’d like so when you mentioned this months ago I had to write it down on the spot...”

Lute seems to realize what you’re talking about, and suddenly her efforts to not rip the paper are no more. She skilfully tears at it, revealing another see-through package with a PJ set in it.

You and Adam know about your girlfriend’s love for the paranormal that she’s developed in the past few months, so when she brought up how her favourite clothing brand had released a line related to it you immediately knew what you had to do.

Both the deep purple blouse and pants are made of silk, and look extremely comfortable even though they’re a size small. The pattern is gorgeous, colourless drawings of moths and skulls intertwine with each other in a manner that makes the design look busy yet tidy at the same time.

Lute doesn’t show excitement very often, but as she feels the soft fabric against her fingers and admires the patterns she indulges in a thrilled flap of her wings and a pretty smile.

“Fuck, I finally have this! You remembered huh?” because your forehead is easily reachable for her, she holds your face with one hand and kisses you right there, you can feel her smile against your skin, “Thank you, I love it...if you couldn’t tell.”

Despite her trying to play it cool, you know she’s genuine, and it makes your heart slightly flutter.

Then, Lute reaches for something a bit hidden behind the tree; it’s the biggest gift yet between the ones you’ve unwrapped, and you recognize the thunder pattern on the paper that you both have been using for a while to wrap stuff up for Adam. That roll never ends, you both swear.

“Fucking finally! Was starting to get worried there was nothing for me here.” He’s obviously playing, but you both sigh at him.

He rips through it with not a single care in the world, cursing under his breath when some pieces of tape don’t come off right away. Lute reminds him about your package from Hell, which was more tape than wrapping paper, and he waves her off with a ‘yeah, yeah’.

Once the gift is fully out, he holds it up in the air with a whistle.

“Fuuuuck! This bangs, what the Hell!”

It’s a backpack, which you fucking wish will replace the one he’s currently using since it’s basically falling apart. He brings it everywhere, to concerts, trips, just to go out for a walk down the street or do groceries...the old one is black and plain, with no design on it at all, while the new one that Lute has gotten for him has a personalized print with his name and a guitar underneath, all in bright yellow, which contrasts nicely against the black fabric.

He starts rambling about how he finally has enough space to put his guitar pick holder inside, since the backpack does look bigger as well, and about how he wants to know where Lute has gotten the design printed since he loves putting his name on things.

“Thank you so much babe, I love it,” he finally says, which alright, it was clear enough...but it is nice that he’s finally got some manners, in both your and Lute’s opinion.

It’s midday when you three finally finish unwrapping everything, and the amount of stuff just lying around on the floor is astounding. Gift-wrap, tape, various tags and even boxes make it hard to walk around in your living room.

But you three look extremely content, each of you with a different loot;

Adam holds his backpack, a plethora of guitar picks, those fuzzy socks that you either love or hate (he’s a lover, Lute’s a hater), hair gel because he claims his natural hair isn’t voluminous enough, a pair of alt shoes that he’s been eyeing for a while and a cool holder for one of his various consoles. He’s the most open about what he wants, so getting him presents isn’t that hard, really.

Lute has got her PJ set, some gym tools that she was missing, some makeup since she’s been experimenting more with that instead of sticking to her usual simple eyeliner, a specific lotion for her wings since she likes keeping them neat and a couple pieces of jewellery- you’ve figured out that she really likes minimalist silver necklaces by observing what she wears on dates.

And you’ve got your new videogame which you’re super excited about, a shirt with the print of a show you’ve been obsessed with for weeks on end, some food actually? (Adam’s idea, he knows your favourite sweets and snacks by heart), a portable phone charger in the shape of your favourite animal and two tote bags, each matching with one of your fave outfits that you wear the most.

Adam kicks a box aside, making you and Lute frown; this is your cue to tidy everything up before getting to cook lunch...together, you’ve decided.

You chat and laugh the cleaning session away, wondering what some friends back in Heaven have gotten for, well, Christmas, and pondering how to spend the afternoon and evening. You notice in the corner of your eye that the window has slightly fogged up;

“Mh? What’s the matter?” Lute asks while folding her PJ;

You step closer to the window and wipe some of the condensation away from the glass, your face lighting up at the sight of what’s happening outside. Your partners curiously approach you, Adam engulfing you both from behind with his large wings.

They both understand your excitement upon noticing that it’s snowing.

Leaning against your boyfriend’s broad chest a bit and pulling Lute closer to you –she doesn’t really mind either of you doing that-, you perk up;

“Alright, let’s hurry with lunch, this literally calls for a movie marathon while wrapped up in blankets...!”

[hisfavegirl]

Veil Of Betrayal - King!Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary : You are safe and sound in the Red Keep, but that's probably what you think. Because after you escaped from the clutches of your father and mother, they did everything they could to bring you back.

Aegon Masterlist.

As Daemon’s figure disappeared from view, the weight of the moment bore down on you like a collapsing tower. Your knees gave out, and you fell to the cold floor, barely aware of Aegon’s arms catching you.

“Aegon…” you whispered, your voice choked with sobs as tears streamed down your face. The sound of your grief filled the room, raw and unrestrained, as you buried your face into his chest.

He knelt with you, holding you tightly, his arms a protective cocoon around your trembling form. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice steady even as his own heart ached at the sight of your despair. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

You clung to him, your fingers gripping his tunic as if letting go would shatter you further. “I didn’t want this,” you managed to say between sobs. “I never wanted to hurt him… or anyone.”

Aegon pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it as he whispered soothing words. “It’s not your fault,” he said firmly. “None of this is your fault. He’s the one who forced this on you, not the other way around.”

The memory of Daemon’s cold stare haunted you, and the weight of his words felt like daggers in your heart. You could see the pain in his eyes, even beneath his anger, and it tore at your soul to know you were the cause of it.

“I just wanted peace,” you said, your voice trembling. “I just wanted my family to be whole.”

“And you will have that,” Aegon said, his tone resolute. “We’ll protect what we have—our children, our future. No one will take that from us.”

His determination steadied you, and for a moment, you found solace in his presence. But the ache in your heart lingered, the guilt of choosing one part of your family over the other an unbearable weight.

As your sobs subsided, you leaned into him, drawing strength from his warmth. “What if he comes back?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we’ll face him together,” Aegon promised, his hand tightening around yours. “You’re not alone in this.”

The words were a balm to your shattered heart, and though the pain remained, you knew Aegon’s love would be your anchor in the storm.

You lay silently, feeling the warmth of Aegon’s hand as it gently caressed your hair, each stroke soothing the tension that had coiled within you. For a moment, with him beside you, the world outside seemed distant, the chaos muted by the safety of his presence.

Opening your eyes, you turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. His violet eyes softened as they met yours, filled with concern and unwavering devotion.

“Aegon,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but heavy with emotion. “I don’t want our children to grow up in a world torn apart by war.”

His hand stilled for a moment, resting gently against the side of your face. Aegon’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his features before it was replaced by determination.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “Neither do I. I never wanted this, for us or for them. But I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to protect them—and you.”

You reached up, placing your hand over his, grounding yourself in his touch. “I just want them to be safe, to be happy. To have the childhood they deserve.”

“They will,” Aegon vowed, his tone firm now. “I’ll make sure of it, no matter what it takes.”

He leaned closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours as he closed his eyes. “You’re my family. You, the children, and the one growing inside you. Nothing else matters more to me than keeping you all safe.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you allowed yourself to find comfort in his promise. For now, it was enough to hold onto hope, even as the shadows of war loomed on the horizon.

The grand doors of the council chamber opened, and Aegon walked beside you, his hand resting protectively on your lower back. The weight of the moment pressed on your shoulders, but you steeled yourself, knowing this was where you needed to be—beside your husband, at the heart of the storm.

As the two of you entered, the lords and council members rose briefly in acknowledgment of the King. Their eyes flickered toward you, whispers already buzzing about your presence. Some seemed approving, others curious, while a few held unreadable expressions.

Aegon pulled out the chair for you, his hand lingering for a moment on yours as you settled beside him. Alicent sat to his other side, her expression calm and composed, but her gaze betrayed a flicker of relief to see you here.

“My lords,” Aegon began, his voice firm as he addressed the room. “Let us proceed. The matters at hand will not wait.”

As discussions began—strategies, alliances, and whispers of war—you found yourself absorbing every word. Though the conversation revolved around battle plans and the growing tensions with Dragonstone, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of each decision. Every choice they made could shape not just the realm, but your family’s future.

From time to time, Aegon glanced your way, his eyes seeking your reassurance. When his hand found yours beneath the table, you squeezed it gently, a silent promise that you were here with him, through every trial.

Alicent leaned toward you during a lull in the meeting, her voice soft but steady. “Your presence here strengthens him,” she said. “You’ve always been his anchor.”

You nodded slightly, though the weight of it all was not lost on you. Your place here was not just as his wife, but as someone who might help guide him in a time where every decision could mean peace—or destruction.

The council chamber was heavy with tension, the air crackling as Aegon’s voice boomed across the room.

“How in the name of the Seven did this happen?” Aegon roared, his fists clenched on the armrests of his throne. He turned his furious gaze to Ser Criston and Aemond. “Daemon now holds the largest fortress in the Seven Kingdoms, and we allowed it to slip through our fingers? Explain yourselves!”

Ser Criston bowed his head, his tone firm but laced with regret. “Your Grace, the garrison at Harrenhal was undermanned. Daemon arrived swiftly, using Caraxes to instill fear and force a surrender. The men there were overwhelmed before they could mount a defense.”

Aemond, standing stiffly at the side of the room, interjected coldly, “I warned you, brother. We should have acted sooner. I could have dealt with Daemon before this ever came to pass.”

Aegon turned his anger toward Aemond, his expression darkening. “You think I would risk losing you to him? Do you forget who he is? He’s not just our enemy—he’s a monster with no regard for life or loyalty!"

The tension in the room became suffocating, and Alicent, seated beside you, looked between her sons with worry etched on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Aegon cut her off, his voice raw and desperate.

“This cannot continue. Harrenhal is a dagger pointed at the heart of our campaign. If Daemon holds it, he can strike us where we are weakest.” He turned his gaze to you, his anger momentarily replaced by a desperate plea. “Tell me, what should I do? How do I fight a man who seems unstoppable?”

You felt all eyes on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down like a physical burden. Taking a deep breath, you met Aegon’s gaze, your voice calm but steady.

“Harrenhal is a strategic loss, but it does not mean defeat,” you began. “Daemon is bold, but his arrogance is his weakness. Let him think he’s gained an unassailable advantage. Meanwhile, we fortify our positions and rally more houses to our cause. Strength in numbers will be the key to outmaneuvering him.”

Aegon listened intently, his jaw tightening as he absorbed your words. “And what of Harrenhal? Do we simply let him keep it?”

You hesitated, then spoke firmly, “For now, yes. Fighting him there would cost too many lives. But he cannot hold it indefinitely—not if we cut off his supply lines and force him into a position of weakness. Let him sit in that castle, isolated and vulnerable. When the time is right, we’ll strike.”

Aegon leaned back, his gaze lingering on you, a mixture of frustration and admiration in his eyes. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. We’ll do as you suggest—for now.”

The council murmured in agreement, though the tension remained palpable. Aegon reached for your hand beneath the table, gripping it tightly as if drawing strength from your presence. You squeezed his hand in return, silently vowing to stand by him, even as the storm of war loomed ever closer.

Ser Criston’s low murmur cut through the tense silence like a blade. “She thinks like Daemon,” he said, his tone carrying a grudging respect. “And that is to our advantage.”

The words struck you like a physical blow, and your breath hitched. You realized the truth in them—you were helping to craft a strategy that could very well be used to harm your parents, your family. The very people who raised you, who fought to bring you back to their side.

Your hand trembled slightly in Aegon’s grasp, and your gaze faltered. The room felt stifling now, the walls closing in as guilt twisted in your chest.

Aegon noticed your change in demeanor and leaned closer, his voice soft yet concerned. “What is it? Are you unwell?”

You forced a weak smile, shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. Just… overwhelmed.”

Aegon frowned, his free hand brushing over your cheek. “You’re with child. If this is too much, you don’t need to—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, a little too quickly, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

The murmurs of the council faded into the background as your mind swirled with conflict. You were supposed to be loyal to your family. You had told yourself that staying with Aegon, with your children, was the right choice. But now, as you sat here among your husband’s council, offering insight that could spell disaster for those you loved, you felt the weight of betrayal pressing down on you.

Could you truly stand by and watch as the two sides of your heart clashed in bloody battle? Or had you already chosen, your actions betraying where your loyalties now lay?

As the council continued to debate strategy, you stared at the table, your thoughts a whirlwind of guilt, love, and fear.

You rose from your seat, your movements slow and deliberate as you addressed Aegon and the council. “I need to excuse myself,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “I’m not feeling well and would like to rest for a while.”

Aegon’s gaze immediately softened, concern etched into his features. “I’ll take you to your chambers,” he offered, already rising from his chair.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him. “No, Aegon,” you said softly, shaking your head. “This meeting is more important. You need to be here with the council.”

“But—”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, managing a faint smile. “Ser Criston or one of the guards can accompany me.”

Aegon hesitated, his violet eyes searching yours for any sign of deeper distress. But when you held firm, he reluctantly nodded. “If you need anything, send for me immediately,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I will,” you promised, squeezing his arm lightly before stepping away.

Ser Criston moved to escort you, but you shook your head, indicating you wanted to be alone. With a slight bow, he stepped back, allowing you to leave unaccompanied.

As you walked through the halls of the Red Keep, the weight of your emotions pressed down on you. The betrayal you felt—not just toward your family, but toward yourself—gnawed at your soul.

By the time you reached your chambers, tears pricked your eyes. You closed the door behind you, leaning against it as a heavy sigh escaped your lips. The weight of your divided loyalties was becoming unbearable. How long could you walk this fine line before everything crumbled?

Sitting before the mirror, your brush moved gently through your hair as you tried to steady your thoughts. The soft hum of the wind outside was the only sound in the room until faint laughter reached your ears. Your hand froze, and your gaze shifted toward the door.

The laughter grew louder, filling the hallway with its sweet, carefree melody. A small, hesitant smile crept onto your face as the door creaked open.

There they were—Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor, their smiles bright enough to momentarily chase away the weight on your heart. Jaehaerys stood proudly at the front, holding his wooden sword, while Jaehaera clutched her favorite doll, and little Maelor peeked out from behind them with a toy dragon in his hands.

��Mother!” Jaehaera called out, her voice brimming with excitement.

Your heart swelled as you set the brush down and turned fully to face them. “What brings all of you here?” you asked, your voice warm as you opened your arms.

They didn’t hesitate, running toward you with gleeful laughter. Jaehaera was the first to throw her arms around your waist, followed by Maelor, who nestled into your lap. Jaehaerys remained standing tall, declaring, “We’ve come to cheer you up!”

Your laughter, soft and genuine, bubbled forth as you hugged them close. “You’re all doing a wonderful job,” you said, pressing a kiss to the top of Maelor’s silver head.

“Father said you weren’t feeling well,” Jaehaera added, looking up at you with concerned eyes.

“I’m better now that you’re here,” you replied, cupping her cheek gently.

As you held them close, the room seemed lighter, the burden on your heart easing just a little. In their presence, the world’s troubles felt like a distant storm—one that could wait, if only for this moment.

You sat alone in your chambers, the evening light filtering through the windows as the sun began its descent. The faint murmurs of the castle’s activities reached your ears, but none of it could quiet the unease twisting in your chest.

The long hours stretched endlessly, and your gaze flickered toward the door every so often, hoping Aegon would return soon. Yet you knew the council’s discussions were far from over, especially with the looming threat of war.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on the armrest of your chair as you let out a weary sigh. Thoughts of the impending war plagued your mind, not for the first time. You hated the idea of it—the bloodshed, the division, the destruction it would bring. Most of all, you despised how it forced you into a corner, caught between loyalty to your husband and your birth family.

And then there were your children. Their laughter and innocence were a fragile balm to your fears, but the knowledge that this war could shatter their futures made your heart ache. What kind of world would they inherit if this escalated?

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Your hand instinctively went to your belly as if to shield your unborn child. “Come in,” you called softly.

One of your ladies-in-waiting entered, bowing slightly. “The king is still in council, your grace, but he has sent word that he will come to you as soon as it concludes.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, offering her a small smile before she left. Alone once more, you leaned back in your chair, your hand still resting on your belly.

“I won’t let this war take you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Any of you.”

The words hung in the air, a promise to yourself and your children. All you could do now was wait—and hope.

The night had fully enveloped the world, and only the soft whispers of the wind could be heard outside the windows. Feeling slightly weary, you took your warm robe and draped it over the nightgown you had already changed into. Your hand instinctively rested on your slightly rounded belly, a comforting warmth filling your heart despite the lingering worry about the impending war.

You made your way to your children’s chambers, walking through the torchlit corridors of the Red Keep. When you opened the door to their room, soft laughter and hushed whispers greeted you. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were quietly talking to each other, while Maelor sat in a corner playing with his toy dragon. The moment they saw you, bright smiles lit up their faces.

“Mother!” Maelor exclaimed, running toward you with enthusiasm.

You chuckled softly and knelt down to embrace him. “It’s time for bed, my love,” you said gently, brushing his hair with your hand. “I wanted to make sure you’re all ready for sweet dreams.”

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera quickly climbed into their beds, each clutching their favorite toys. You settled into the chair between them, opening a storybook they adored. In a soft and soothing voice, you began to read, weaving tales of dragons and knights, stories that had once been shared with you in your own childhood.

Maelor was the first to drift off to sleep, his tiny hands still clutching his dragon toy. Jaehaerys tried to stay awake, his eyes struggling to remain open as he listened intently. Jaehaera, meanwhile, cuddled her doll and watched you with a contented smile until her eyelids grew too heavy.

One by one, their breathing slowed, and peace settled over the room. You leaned down to kiss each of their foreheads, whispering, “Goodnight, my loves.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as the door to your children's room creaked open unexpectedly. You froze in place, heart racing.

Two figures stood in the doorway, their faces obscured by dark hoods. Before you could react, one of them stepped forward, drawing a blade with a smooth, practiced motion and pressing it against your throat.

"Stay quiet," the figure hissed in a low voice, the threat unmistakable. "We only want one thing from you."

Your breath caught in your chest, and a sharp panic gripped your heart. The intruder's words came next, each one more chilling than the last.

"You must choose one of your children," the voice commanded coldly. "One must be sacrificed. If you do not choose... we will decide for you."

Terror surged through you. Your mind raced, but no coherent thought could form as you stared at the blade, the gleaming edge reflecting the dim light of the room. You wanted to scream, to shout for help, but your throat was dry, your body frozen.

Your eyes darted to the children, peacefully sleeping in their beds, unaware of the nightmare unfolding around them. Maelor's small form curled in sleep, his toy dragon still clutched in his hand. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, their faces serene, seemed so innocent, so far removed from the terror that now threatened to tear their world apart.

"Choose," the second figure said, their voice colder than the first, a menacing echo in the silence. "Or we will!"

Tears welled up in your eyes as the impossible decision loomed before you. No mother should ever have to make such a choice. They were your children-your heart, your everything. The thought of losing any of them, of condemning one to death, was unbearable.

But you had no choice. The threat to your family was all too real, and time was running out. You could feel the desperation clawing at your insides. You had to act. You had to find a way to save them, to protect them from whatever dark force had brought these monsters to your doorstep.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Don't hurt them. Please don't make me choose."

The figure with the blade pressed harder against your neck, causing a sharp sting.

"Choose, or we will."

Your mind raced. A plan began to form, fueled by a fierce determination to save your children.

You wouldn't allow them to suffer. You wouldn't let your family fall apart.

"Let them go," you whispered fiercely, not just to the figures in front of you, but to yourself as well. You needed to outsmart them, to protect your children. Somehow, you would find a way.

Tears streamed down your face as the cold steel of the blade pressed against your throat.

You could feel the weight of the decision crushing you, every heartbeat a reminder of the life-or-death choice that loomed over your children. The figures in front of you were unmoving, their demands clear and unforgiving.

"I'll offer myself," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper, desperate. "Take me. Please.Spare them."

But the cold, emotionless reply that came back from one of the figures made your stomach drop.

"It must be a son," the voice declared, sharp and uncompromising. "A son must pay the price."

You trembled, feeling your entire body shake under the pressure of the impossible demand.

You could feel the world around you spinning, your mind unable to accept what was being asked of you. The thought of losing one of your children, your precious sons-Maelor or Jaehaerys-was more than you could bear.

"Please," you sobbed, your voice breaking.

"Please, I can't choose. I can't."

But they were relentless, their gaze unwavering, their stance threatening. The second figure, who hadn't spoken yet, stepped closer, looming over you with the blade still pressed at your neck.

"You must choose, or we will."

Your eyes darted desperately toward your sleeping children. Jaehaerys, so brave, even in his sleep, and Maelor, the innocent child with so much life left to live. Your heart shattered at the thought of them being torn from you, of one of them being sacrificed for some twisted reason you couldn't even understand.

The silence felt deafening as the seconds stretched on, the room heavy with the weight of your indecision. You could feel the heat of the tears on your cheeks, the pain of your helplessness building to an unbearable point.

"Please," you whispered once more, the words nearly lost in the depth of your agony. "Please don't take them from me."

You couldn't bring yourself to choose. Your love for them was too deep, too overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of losing either of them.

The room spun as you were shoved to the floor, the sharp crack of your head hitting the ground sending a wave of dizzying pain through your skull. For a moment, everything blurred, the edges of your vision darkening, but through it, you could still hear the men’s cold voices and the terrifying calm in their words.

As you lay on the cold floor, the pain from your head throbbing fiercely, you could feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision. The room spun as the men’s words pierced your heart, each one more cruel than the last. Your body trembled with fear and desperation, tears streaming down your face as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

They had pointed to Jaehaera’s bed, and in that moment, you knew. They weren’t asking for someone to be sacrificed—they were demanding the life of your child.

“He’s the eldest,” one of them had said, his voice cold and unforgiving.

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart stopped. No. They couldn’t be serious. They couldn’t.

Then the horrifying sound of Jaehaerys’ scream echoed through the room. A scream filled with pain and terror, and it shattered your soul. He was awake, and he was in pain. He was fighting for his life.

Before you could move, before you could protect him, you heard Maelor’s terrified sobs, his voice panicked, calling out for you. “Mother!” he cried, his voice breaking.

You forced yourself to stand, despite the dizziness, despite the overwhelming fear that threatened to consume you. But just as you reached out, you heard the sickening sound of a blade slicing through flesh, followed by a gasp from Jaehaerys.

“NO!” you screamed, your voice ragged and desperate. “Stop! Please, don’t hurt him! Don’t hurt my children!”

The world spun even faster, the tears blurring your vision. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. The agony of knowing that they were killing your son, that they were tearing your family apart, left you feeling as though you were dying inside.

The sounds of your children’s cries echoed louder in your ears, their voices filled with pain and fear. You reached for them, your arms weak, but your heart cried out for them to be safe. You couldn’t save them. You couldn’t protect them.

“Please, stop! Please!” You begged again, your voice trembling with despair, but all that came in return were the chilling sounds of your children’s pain and the cold laughter of the men who had done this to your family.

Your world was collapsing.

The room seemed to fade away as the cold reality of what had just happened settled in. Jaehaerys’ lifeless head, now sealed away in their bag, was a horrifying reminder of the cruelty they had inflicted upon your family. You were paralyzed by grief and disbelief, unable to process the enormity of what had just transpired. The air around you felt heavy, suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in on you.

Jaehaera and Maelor’s desperate voices pulled you from the abyss of shock. They shook you, their hands gripping your arms as they pleaded for you to hold on. Their voices were fractured, trembling with fear and uncertainty, but their determination was clear. They needed you. They couldn’t bear this alone.

“Please, Mother… stay with us,” Maelor cried, his voice cracking. “We need you.”

Through the haze of your tears, you could hear their panicked cries calling out for help, for anyone who could save them from the nightmare they were trapped in. Their tiny hands clung to you, their innocent faces twisted with confusion and terror. They had witnessed something no child should ever have to see. And yet, they still needed you—still wanted you to fight for them, to protect them.

The sound of their voices, so fragile and filled with pain, cut through the numbness you were enveloped in. You could barely breathe, but somehow you forced yourself to focus on them. You were their mother. You had to be strong for them, even if your heart was shattered, even if your very soul was torn in two.

You mustered every ounce of strength you had left, pushing through the suffocating darkness in your mind, and called out in a trembling voice. “Help! Somebody, please!” But the room remained silent, and the weight of helplessness pressed down on you even harder. You could only hope, pray that someone would hear your desperate cries.

But in this moment of anguish, one thing remained clear—you couldn’t give up. Not now. Not after everything. Your children needed you. And you would find a way to make sure they were safe, no matter the cost.

Your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest as you lay on the cold floor, the pain in your head now a distant echo compared to the agony consuming you. Jaehaerys’ life had been taken so violently, and the memory of it haunted you, sending waves of grief and guilt crashing over you. How could something so terrible happen to your family? How could you protect them when everything felt like it was falling apart?

Then, through the haze of your despair, you heard them.

Aegon stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide in disbelief as he took in the horrifying scene before him. His gaze flickered between your broken form on the floor, the lifeless body of Jaehaerys, and the missing head, all the while his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. His heart stopped as the magnitude of the tragedy hit him.

“Love…” His voice cracked, barely a whisper as he took a step forward, his eyes never leaving the devastation that surrounded him. “What happened…? What did they do…?”

Tears began to well up in his eyes, his knees threatening to give way beneath him. He wanted to run to you, to hold you, to comfort you, but the horror of the scene kept him rooted to the spot. Jaehaera and Maelor were kneeling by your side, their faces pale, their small hands shaking as they tried to help you, but they were just as lost and broken as he was.

The room seemed to spin around him, every second feeling like an eternity as he struggled to comprehend what had happened. His son, his precious Jaehaerys, was gone. Brutally taken from him. And you, his wife, his love, were injured—physically and emotionally, your body laying broken and helpless on the cold stone floor.

Aegon’s heart shattered in that moment, as his legs finally gave out beneath him, and he collapsed by your side. His hands trembled as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms, cradling your head in his lap with desperate tenderness. His tears fell freely now, his voice ragged as he whispered your name over and over.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry, Love…” he sobbed, his fingers brushing over your bruised and bleeding temple. “I should have been here. I should have protected you, protected him.”

Jaehaera and Maelor clung to him, their tiny bodies shaking with grief. Jaehaera’s voice, choked with tears, was barely audible as she whispered, “Mother… why? Why did they take him?”

Aegon couldn’t answer. The words were stuck in his throat, the sorrow and rage too great to form anything coherent. He could only hold onto you, his family, as the weight of this tragedy settled deep into his bones. The blood on the floor, the silence of the room, the absence of his son—it was all too much. And yet, somehow, he knew one thing.

He would make sure that Jaehaerys’s death was not in vain. Whoever was responsible for this—he would make them pay.

The sound of Alicent's horrified scream echoed through the chamber as her gaze fell upon the lifeless body of Jaehaerys, blood pooling beneath him. She staggered forward, her hand clutching her chest, her face pale with shock. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she knelt beside Aegon, her voice trembling.

"What... what happened? Aegon, who did this?!" Alicent's voice cracked as she turned to her son, desperate for answers, her eyes darting between you and the lifeless form of her grandson.

Aegon's jaw tightened as he held you closer, shielding you from the sight of the carnage.

His face was etched with grief and fury, his tears streaking his pale cheeks. "They came for her... for my wife... and they took him." His voice was raw, filled with agony and seething rage.

Alicent let out another broken sob, her trembling hands reaching to touch Jaehaerys's small, lifeless hand. "No, no, no... my grandson... my sweet boy..." she whispered, her voice hollow as she rocked back and forth in anguish.

Ser Criston stepped forward, his expression grim as he surveyed the horrific scene. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword, and he bowed his head briefly in sorrow before speaking. "Your Grace, this was no mere attack. This was a message-a calculated act of terror."

Aegon's eyes burned with fury as he raised his head, glaring at Criston and the guards. "And where were you?! Where were the guards?!" he shouted, his voice thunderous. "This happened in our home, under our watch! My son is dead, and my wife could have been killed!"

Criston looked stricken but held his ground. "I failed you, Your Grace," he said solemnly, his head bowed. "But I will find who did this. I swear it on my life."

Alicent turned back to you, her hands hovering over you as if unsure where to touch, afraid of causing you more pain. "My sweet girl, are you hurt? What did they do to you?"

Your voice was weak, trembling with grief and exhaustion as you spoke, your hand resting protectively over your growing belly. "They came for Jaehaerys... they wanted... one of my sons..." A sob broke free, and you clung to Aegon, tears streaming down your face. "They said it was to pay a debt... I begged them to take me instead, but they wouldn't..."

Alicent gasped, her face crumpling with grief as she brought her hands to her mouth.

"Monsters... vile monsters..." she whispered.

Aegon's arms tightened around you, his voice trembling with raw emotion as he declared, "I'll kill them all. Whoever sent them, whoever dared touch my family-they will pay for this."

His words carried a promise of vengeance, one that echoed through the grief-stricken room, even as Alicent reached out to pull Jaehaera and Maelor into her arms, trying to shield them from the horror that surrounded them. The Red Keep had been stained with blood, and its halls would not rest until justice was served.

Aegon’s steps faltered when Alicent’s trembling voice called out, “Aegon! Wait—there’s blood…”

He froze in place, his breath hitching as he looked down and saw the faint trail of crimson staining the floor beneath you. Panic surged through him, his grip on you tightening as if holding you closer might somehow protect you.

“No… no, no, no,” Aegon muttered, his voice breaking. His eyes darted to Alicent, desperation etched across his face. “Mother, do something! She can’t… the baby…!”

Alicent’s composure, though shaken, returned as she gestured sharply to Ser Criston. “Fetch the maesters! Now!”

Criston nodded and hurried from the room while Alicent stepped closer, her voice firm despite her trembling hands. “Aegon, you need to lay her down. We mustn’t move her further.”

Aegon hesitated, his emotions a storm of fear and anguish, but he finally nodded, carrying you into the nearest room and gently laying you down on the bed. Your face was pale, your breathing shallow, and you clung weakly to his hand, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

“Aegon,” you whispered, your voice fragile, “the baby…”

“Shh, don’t talk,” he pleaded, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. “You’re going to be fine. The baby’s going to be fine. Just hold on for me, alright?” His voice cracked as he fought to keep his composure, his free hand gripping yours tightly.

Alicent knelt beside you, her own fear clear in her eyes, but she forced herself to be calm. “My sweet girl, listen to me. The maesters will be here soon. Just breathe, my dear. We’re going to take care of you.”

Moments later, the door burst open as the maesters arrived, their expressions grim but focused. They moved quickly, assessing your condition as Aegon reluctantly stepped back, though he refused to let go of your hand.

One of the maesters turned to Alicent and spoke in a low tone, though Aegon could still hear. “Her Grace is in distress, and there’s a risk of premature labor. We must act swiftly to stabilize her and the child.”

Aegon’s heart plummeted at the words, his knees nearly buckling as he gripped the bedpost for support. “No… you have to save them both. Do you hear me? You will save them both!” His voice was a desperate command, laced with fear and fury.

The maesters nodded, working diligently as Alicent placed a reassuring hand on her son’s shoulder. “Aegon,” she said softly, her own tears threatening to spill, “she’s strong. Your child is strong. Have faith in them.”

Aegon nodded shakily, his gaze fixed on you, willing you to hold on. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Not you, not our baby. Please…”

The room was heavy with tension, the air thick with unspoken prayers, as the maesters worked tirelessly to protect both you and the life growing within you.

You opened your eyes slowly, the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains. The familiar surroundings of your chamber brought little comfort. The walls, once a sanctuary, now felt cold and oppressive.

Your body felt weak, as if the weight of the previous night still pressed upon you. Then the memories struck, sharp and unforgiving—Jaeharys, your eldest son, his life taken in a moment of unimaginable brutality. You could still hear his cries, the muffled sobs of Maelor and Jaehaera, and the laughter of the men who had stolen him from you.

Your hand instinctively went to your stomach, where your unborn child still rested. A maester’s words from the night before echoed in your mind: “The babe is safe, for now.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you curled into yourself, grief and guilt battling within. You had nearly lost another child. The thought alone tore at you, guilt whispering that you hadn’t done enough, even though you knew there was nothing more you could have done.

The door creaked open, and Aegon stepped inside, his face pale and worn from sleeplessness. His eyes softened when they met yours, but the pain and anger behind them were unmistakable. He hurried to your side, kneeling beside the bed and taking your hand gently in his.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He pressed a trembling kiss to your knuckles. “I thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I thought I might lose you too.”

Your lips trembled as tears began to fall. “Jaeharys…”

Aegon’s face crumpled at the mention of your son’s name. He pulled you into his arms carefully, mindful of your weakened state. “I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I know, my love. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected him.”

You shook your head against his chest. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but theirs.”

“But it’s my duty,” he said fiercely, his grip tightening. “And I failed. I swear to you, I will find the men who did this. They will pay for what they’ve done to our family.”

You looked up at him, his words carrying the weight of a king and a father. But as much as you wanted justice, you also feared what this vow of vengeance would mean for the family you still had.

“Aegon,” you said softly, your hand resting on his cheek. “Please… don’t let anger consume you. I can’t lose you too.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “You won’t,” he promised. “I’ll make sure you and the children are safe. No matter the cost.”

The silence that followed was heavy with grief and determination, the two of you clinging to each other as you tried to find solace in the aftermath of your shared loss.

Aegon held your trembling hand tightly, his face a mixture of sorrow and rage as he guided you toward the room where your children had been sleeping. The faint metallic smell of blood still lingered in the air, and the sight before you made your heart clench painfully.

The servants moved swiftly, carrying out the blood-soaked mattress that had once cradled your eldest son. You stopped in the doorway, unable to take another step. Tears streamed down your face as your knees threatened to give way beneath you.

“No…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “This was his room. His bed.”

Aegon’s grip on your hand tightened, anchoring you as much as himself. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes blazed with fury, but when he looked at you, his expression softened, replaced by heartbreak.

“I should’ve protected him,” you choked out between sobs. “I should’ve protected him, Aegon. I—”

“You did everything you could,” Aegon interrupted, his voice hoarse yet firm. “This isn’t your fault.”

But your grief was insurmountable. Watching the servants remove the last traces of Jaeharys felt like losing him all over again. You turned into Aegon’s chest, clutching his tunic tightly as your sobs grew louder.

“I can’t bear this,” you cried. “I can’t—he was just a boy. Our boy.”

Aegon held you close, his arms strong yet gentle as he whispered words of comfort. His tears mingled with yours as he kissed the top of your head, his own pain mirroring yours.

“We will honor him,” he said softly. “We will make sure no one forgets who he was. And those who did this… they will pay.”

Though his words were meant to comfort, they only made your heart ache more. You thought of Jaehaera and Maelor, the terror they must have felt, and the lingering scars this night would leave on them.

You pulled away slightly, wiping your tears with a shaking hand. “We have to protect them, Aegon. Maelor, Jaehaera, the babe… We can’t let this happen again.”

Aegon nodded, his expression hardening as he placed a hand over your own, resting protectively over your growing belly. “I swear to you, they will be safe. No one will hurt our family again.”

But as you stood in the doorway, staring at the empty room that once held so much life, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. Would your family ever truly be safe?

As one of the servants passed by carrying the embroidered blanket you had painstakingly crafted for Jaehaerys, you froze. The sight of it, a tangible piece of your love and care for your son, brought a fresh wave of pain crashing down on you.

“Wait,” you said, your voice hoarse yet firm.

The servant stopped immediately, looking at you with a mixture of pity and unease. You stepped forward, your trembling hands reaching out.

“Give it to me,” you said softly, almost pleading.

The servant hesitated for a moment before handing you the blanket. The moment it was in your hands, you clutched it tightly to your chest, pressing your face into the soft fabric. It still smelled faintly of him, a mixture of childhood innocence and comfort.

Your knees threatened to buckle as you stood there, hugging the blanket as though it could bring him back. The tears came again, silently streaming down your face as you whispered his name.

Aegon stood by your side, watching you with an expression of utter devastation. He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and steady.

“You made that for him,” he said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I poured my heart into it… Every stitch was for him. He loved it.”

Aegon’s fingers gently traced your arm as he tried to comfort you, though his own grief was evident in the glassiness of his eyes. “He would want you to hold onto it. To remember him.”

You sank into Aegon’s embrace, still clutching the blanket tightly. “I feel like if I let go of this, I’ll lose him forever.”

“You’ll never lose him,” Aegon murmured, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “He’ll always be in your heart, in every memory. No one can take that away from you.”

Despite his words, the ache in your chest remained unbearable. You stood there, holding onto the blanket and the remnants of your son, as the world around you seemed to crumble into sorrow.

Aegon placed a hand gently on your shoulder, his voice tender but firm. “You need to rest. Please, for the baby’s sake.”

You hesitated, your eyes lingering on the room where so much of Jaehaerys still lingered—his favorite toys, the bed he once slept in, now a haunting reminder of his absence. But the weight of exhaustion, both physical and emotional, pressed down on you.

“Alright,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You clutched Jaehaerys’ blanket tightly against your chest, as if it were the only thing anchoring you to reality.

Aegon guided you carefully back to your chambers, his arm steadying you as you walked. The journey felt endless, your legs heavy with grief. Once inside, he helped you to the bed, adjusting the pillows behind your back as you sat down.

You curled up on your side, still holding the blanket close. The soft fabric against your cheek was both a comfort and a torment, reminding you of the warmth and joy that were now gone.

Aegon knelt by the bedside, his hand finding yours. “I’ll stay with you,” he said softly. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him. His face was etched with sorrow, his own grief clear despite his attempts to be strong for you.

“I don’t know how to move forward,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Aegon promised, his thumb brushing gently over your hand. “For him. For the children. And for us.”

You nodded faintly, though the weight in your chest remained unbearable. As the night deepened, you closed your eyes, hoping that sleep might bring even a momentary reprieve from the pain. Through it all, Aegon stayed by your side, his presence a fragile but steady beacon in the overwhelming darkness.

The following morning, the Red Keep felt suffocating, its halls shrouded in an almost tangible darkness. The news spread quickly—Jaehaerys’ head had been discovered by the guards, hidden in a blood-soaked sack strapped to a horse. The culprits had been captured, their guilt undeniable.

You lay in your chambers, the weight of the news crushing you further. The world seemed to spin as you struggled to breathe through the despair. Jaehaerys was gone, and now his mutilated remains were a cruel reminder of the nightmare you had lived.

Aegon had left your side as soon as the guards delivered the report. Consumed by rage and grief, he stormed down to the dungeons. Word soon reached you of his actions—how he had taken the lead in interrogating and torturing the men responsible for your son’s death. His fury was unmatched, his desire for vengeance insatiable.

But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel relief that justice, or what little semblance of it remained, was being sought. All you could do was lie there, staring blankly at the ceiling, clutching Jaehaerys’ blanket close to your chest.

The door creaked open, and Alicent entered quietly, her face pale and drawn. She approached you cautiously, her hands folded tightly before her. “My dear,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “The men who did this… They’ve been captured. Aegon… he’s ensuring they pay for their crimes.”

Her words barely registered. You turned your head slightly to look at her, tears welling in your eyes. “It won’t bring him back” you whispered, your voice hollow.

Alicent knelt beside you, taking your hand in hers. “No, it won’t,” she admitted, tears spilling down her cheeks. “But you still have your other children. You still have Aegon. They need you. We all need you.”

You closed your eyes, trying to summon strength from her words, but the pain was too overwhelming. The only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the blanket in your trembling hands and the muffled sobs of a grieving mother.

Alicent sat quietly beside your bed, the weight of grief heavy in the air. Her hand moved gently through your hair, a comforting rhythm meant to soothe, though she knew it could never truly heal the wound carved into your heart.

You clutched Jaehaerys’ blanket tightly, your tears soaking into its fabric. Each stitch, each thread seemed to carry his presence, his memory, and you couldn’t bear to let it go. Your body trembled, overwhelmed by the ache of losing him, and Alicent’s touch was the only tether keeping you grounded in that moment.

“I know,” Alicent whispered after a long silence, her voice soft and steady. “I know what it feels like to lose a child.” Her eyes glistened as she looked down at you, her own pain resurfacing. “It’s a wound that never truly heals, but you find a way to keep going. For those who still need you.”

Her words resonated in the quiet room, and for a moment, the two of you shared a bond that only mothers who had endured such unimaginable pain could understand. Alicent’s hand paused briefly as she continued, “I wish I could take this pain from you, my dear. But I promise, I will be here. For you, for Aegon, for your children.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears slowing but not stopping. “I don’t know how to go on without him,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “He was my firstborn. My little boy. How am I supposed to face tomorrow?”

Alicent leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “One moment at a time,” she said gently. “And when it feels like too much, lean on those who love you. On Aegon, on me, and on your other children. They need their mother, and I know you’ll find the strength for them.”

Her words offered a fragile comfort, a reminder that even in the depths of sorrow, you were not alone.

Left alone in the silence of your chambers, the weight of loss pressed heavily on your chest. The blanket you held seemed to carry the warmth of Jaehaerys’ laughter, his smile, his joy���all now just distant memories etched painfully into your heart.

Your fingers traced the patterns you had embroidered on the fabric, each stitch a reflection of your love for him. Images of his first steps, his infectious laughter as he played with his siblings, and the way he would cling to you when he sought comfort flooded your mind.

The tears came slowly at first, then in waves, as the ache in your heart became unbearable. You clutched the blanket closer, burying your face into it, as if doing so could somehow bring him back to you.

“Jaehaerys,” you whispered brokenly, the name a prayer, a plea, a cry for something you could never have again. “My sweet boy… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

The emptiness of the room amplified your grief. The sound of your own quiet sobs filled the space, a sorrow too profound for words. You rocked slightly, as if comforting yourself in the way you used to comfort your children.

The memories came unbidden: his excited voice calling you “Mother,” his small hand gripping yours so tightly, and the way he would light up the room with his presence. Each recollection was a dagger to your soul, a reminder of what you had lost.

“Why him?” you choked out to no one, your voice trembling. “Why my boy?”

The room offered no answers, only silence. You cried until your body felt drained, your tears soaking into the blanket that now held all the love you could no longer give him in life.

The creak of the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your tear-streaked face turned toward it. Aegon stood in the doorway, his figure slouched and disheveled, his expression hollow with grief. His tunic was marred with blood—evidence of the fury and anguish he had unleashed on the man who had taken your son from you.

His violet eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of his sorrow mirrored your own, and it was clear that he had been struggling in his own way, consumed by rage and despair. Slowly, he stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him.

“Aegon…” you whispered, your voice raw from crying.

He didn’t respond immediately, but his gaze fell to the blanket in your arms, the one you clung to so desperately. His steps were hesitant as he approached you, finally sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I couldn’t save him,” he said hoarsely, his voice thick with guilt and pain. “I couldn’t protect our son.”

You shook your head, tears welling up once more. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t…”

He leaned forward, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch the blanket. His fingers brushed against yours, and for a moment, he held them there, grounding himself in the only comfort left to him—your presence.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what they did to him,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “The way they took him from us… I made him suffer for it. The one who did this. He begged for mercy, but I showed him none.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You knew the fury that burned within Aegon, but this was different. This was the wrath of a father, a broken man seeking vengeance for a loss that could never be mended.

You reached out, cupping his bloodstained face with trembling hands. “Aegon… nothing will bring him back,” you said softly, your voice laced with sorrow.

“I know,” he whispered, his tears falling freely now. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he tried to find solace in you. “But I had to do something. I had to… for him.”

You both sat in the heavy silence, the weight of your grief wrapping around you like a shroud. Aegon shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively as though shielding you from the world. For a moment, it was just the two of you, clinging to each other amidst the ruins of your shared heartbreak.

The journey to Sept was long and quiet, the weight of grief still hanging heavily in the air around you. It had been a week since your son’s brutal death, and every moment since had felt like a struggle to breathe. Your thoughts were consumed by the images of what had happened, the harsh memory of that night forever etched in your mind.

Helaena, sensing your deep sorrow, had taken your hand gently, her touch warm and reassuring. Her silence was comforting, as if she understood that sometimes, words couldn’t ease the pain. Alicent sat across from you, her eyes occasionally glancing at you with concern, but she knew better than to push you. Instead, she tried to shift the focus, talking about other matters—anything to help distract you, if only for a moment.

“Have you heard the latest from the council?” Alicent asked, her voice gentle but trying to pull you back into the present. “There’s talk of fortifying the defenses along the borders. There’s no telling what might happen next.”

You barely registered her words, your thoughts drifting again to the loss of your child. How could the world keep moving when everything inside you felt so broken?

Helaena gave your hand a soft squeeze, her eyes full of empathy. She, too, knew the pain of losing someone, though the circumstances might have been different. Her presence was a quiet comfort, as if she were offering you the only solace she could, without words.

Alicent noticed your faraway expression, and though her voice remained calm, a hint of concern showed in her eyes. “I know it’s hard, but you need to be strong now,” she said gently, though it was clear she, too, felt the crushing weight of your grief. “The gods will guide us through this. We must continue, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.”

You nodded absently, your gaze distant, the tears you had tried to hold back threatening to spill once more. It was hard to stay strong when the world around you seemed so cold, so indifferent to the pain you were living through.

But still, you kept walking, with Helaena’s hand in yours and Alicent’s voice trying to keep you grounded.

The flickering candlelight cast a soft, warm glow in the sept, creating a quiet sanctuary from the weight of the world outside. As you knelt before the altar, your hands trembling, you whispered a prayer for your son. The words felt foreign on your lips, too distant from the pain in your heart, but you said them anyway, hoping that the gods would hear your sorrow and bring some measure of peace.

The silence of the sept was overwhelming, broken only by the sound of your soft sobs. It was as if the whole world had quieted to give space for your grief. Alicent and Helaena stood beside you, both trying to offer comfort in their own ways, but neither could take away the raw pain that gripped you.

Helaena, ever gentle, placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch light, as if she feared it might cause you more hurt. Alicent stood a little further back, her expression a mixture of sorrow and concern, her own eyes betraying the shared pain of a mother who had lost a child.

They both knew that nothing could ease your heart right now. There was no word of comfort that could replace the empty space left by your son’s death. And yet, they remained there with you, silent in their own grief, offering you the space to mourn in the only way you could.

The flicker of the candles and the soft chanting of the sept echoed in the stillness, but all you could hear was the memory of your son’s laughter, his warmth, and the ache of the loss that would never truly fade.

As you slowly rose to your feet with Alicent’s support, the weight of your growing belly added to the heaviness in your heart. Each step you took felt like a struggle, both physically and emotionally. The journey from the sept to the waiting carriage felt longer than it should have, the air around you thick with sorrow.

The people who had gathered outside, offering their condolences and words of sympathy, only deepened the ache within you. Their sorrowful expressions, some of them bowing their heads as they spoke of their shared grief, felt like daggers to your already broken heart. You wanted to hide from it all, to escape the pity and the reminders of what you had lost, but instead, you forced yourself to smile faintly in return, acknowledging their kindness even as it made your heart ache further.

Alicent noticed your struggle, her hand gently resting on your arm, guiding you toward the carriage. “It’s difficult, I know,” she said softly, her voice filled with a mix of empathy and concern. “But your son would want you to carry on. He would want you to be strong—for the ones still with you.”

Her words were meant to comfort, but they couldn’t erase the grief that consumed you. Every step felt like it was taking you further from the life you once had, the one where your son still lived, still laughed, still held the light in your world. But despite the pain, you knew she was right. The world continued on, and you, despite your heartache, had to continue too—for your unborn child and the family still by your side.

As you finally settled into the carriage, the door closing softly behind you, you closed your eyes and let the tears flow freely. You allowed yourself the moment to grieve, to feel the weight of your loss, even as you knew you had to carry on.

You walked slowly through the corridors of Red Keep, your steps heavy with exhaustion. The weight of the loss still hung over you like a dark cloud, and the thought of facing the world outside your room felt unbearable.

As you neared your chambers, you heard Aegon’s voice—his frantic, anguished shouts echoing down the hall from the council room. His tone was one of fury, yet it carried an undertone of desperation that you couldn’t ignore. But despite the urge to rush to him, you knew you needed time alone, to rest, to process.

With a deep breath, you pushed open the door to your room. The familiar surroundings—your bed, the walls, the silence—felt both comforting and suffocating. You closed the door behind you and let yourself collapse onto the edge of the bed.

Tears that had been held back for what felt like forever finally fell freely, soaking into the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t know how long you lay there, lost in the sorrow of your thoughts, but the pain didn’t seem to lessen. Aegon’s anger, his pain—it all seemed to reach you in waves, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him just yet.

You needed this moment of solitude to regain some semblance of control, even if it was only temporary. The war raging within your heart, the grief, the guilt—it was all too much, and you couldn’t carry it all at once.

You stood by the window, your gaze lost in the vast expanse of the Red Keep grounds, but your mind was far from the view. The memory of that night replayed in your thoughts, the terror, the chilling demand to choose a son. “It must be a son,” their words haunted you, echoing in the silence of your room.

Your heart ached with the cruel logic behind it. Perhaps it was retaliation for the loss of Luke, your brother. The thought of your mother being involved in such a brutal act seemed impossible. She wouldn’t do this to me, you thought. Your mother, Rhaenyra, might be stern, but she wouldn’t take the life of an innocent child to settle old grievances, especially not her own grandchildren.

Yet, the fear gnawed at you. The uncertainty of their next move was unbearable. As much as you tried to reason with yourself, there was a deeper, darker part of you that feared you might be wrong. Could your family really have fallen to this depth of cruelty? Or was it simply your own pain making everything seem darker than it was?

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath. The weight of your unborn child in your womb, the loss of your son, the fear for the future—all of it pressing on you. You had to be strong. For them. For your children. Even when your heart screamed to fall apart, you had to find a way to keep going.

You turned your gaze toward the door, your heart heavy with uncertainty, listening for any sign that Aegon was returning from his meeting. The silence in the room only amplified the tension inside you. After a long moment of stillness, you quietly moved to the wardrobe, pulling out your cloak. The fabric felt heavy in your hands as you draped it over your shoulders, feeling the coolness of it against your skin.

The decision felt impulsive, yet necessary. You had to know the truth. The questions swirling in your mind—the guilt, the suspicion—demanded answers. Was it really her? Could your mother have orchestrated such an unimaginable act? The thought of confronting her terrified you, but you needed closure. You needed to know where your family’s loyalty truly lay, especially now, with so much at stake.

As you stepped toward the door, you paused, taking a deep breath. I must do this. You didn’t know what you’d find at Dragonstone, but you couldn’t stay in this uncertain limbo any longer. With one final glance at your room, you quietly opened the door and slipped out, hoping to make it out of the Red Keep undetected. Every step you took away from the comfort of your room felt like a step further into the unknown.

You reached the Dragonpit, the massive structure housing the dragons, and the familiar sight of your dragon stirred something deep within you. The cold stone underfoot was a stark contrast to the warmth you felt as you approached your dragon. Its fiery eyes met yours, an almost knowing gaze. Slowly, you reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you stroked its snout. The bond you shared with the creature was undeniable, a connection forged through years of trust and shared history.

“Take me to Dragonstone,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty.

Your dragon let out a low rumble, as though acknowledging your command. With practiced ease, you climbed onto its back, the leather of your boots securing your position. The wind in your hair felt cool, but your heart was anything but calm. Every part of you was pulling in different directions—fear, hope, guilt—but you had to know the truth.

“Let’s go,” you urged, and the dragon unfurled its massive wings, lifting into the air with a power that made your heart race. The Red Keep slowly disappeared beneath you as you soared high into the sky, the horizon stretching out before you, unknown and daunting.

As the cold wind whipped against your face, your thoughts were consumed by the unknown, by what you would find at Dragonstone—and whether you were ready to face the answers.

As you descended from your dragon, the weight in your chest grew heavier. The sight of Dragonstone, with its jagged cliffs and looming silhouette, mirrored the turbulence within you. The castle stood as a cold, silent witness to your turmoil. You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your nerves. Every step toward the castle felt like an irreversible move, but you knew it was necessary.

The air was damp and sharp as you made your way up the stone steps, the sound of your boots echoing in the silence. The distant crash of waves against the rocks below was the only sound that accompanied your journey, a constant reminder of the harshness of this place.

The entrance to the castle loomed ahead, its dark stone walls filled with memories of times both cherished and painful. You couldn’t help but wonder what awaited you inside. Would your mother and father be there, or had they already gone? Was it truly them who had been behind your son’s death, or was something darker at play?

With one final glance at your dragon, still perched above the cliffs, you pushed the heavy door open, stepping into the shadowed halls of Dragonstone. The cool air hit you like a wave, and the distant sound of footsteps made your heart skip. Someone was here. You weren’t alone.

Every step you took felt like a question hanging in the air.

You looked at them both, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of your mother, Rhaenyra, and your father, Daemon, standing there, their expressions a mixture of surprise and something else—something unreadable—sent a chill down your spine. Their presence, once familiar, now felt distant, like strangers from another life. The air around you felt thick with tension.

Rhaenyra’s gaze softened slightly, and after a moment of silence, she stepped forward, her voice calm but with an edge of urgency. “Come, let’s talk privately,” she said, her hand gesturing toward a door behind her. “We need to understand each other, especially now.”

Daemon, standing just a little behind her, remained silent, his eyes dark and intense, as if waiting for your next move. The air felt heavy between the three of you, as if the world outside had ceased to exist. Only the weight of what had happened and what was yet to unfold mattered.

Without saying anything, you nodded, though your heart raced in your chest. You followed Rhaenyra through the hallways, every step echoing in the quiet space, while your mind wrestled with the flood of emotions coursing through you.

As you entered your mother’s private chambers, the door closing behind you with a quiet thud, the atmosphere grew more intimate, yet no less tense. You knew this conversation would be difficult, but you needed answers—answers you weren’t sure you were ready to hear.

You sat in front of them, your heart heavy with uncertainty, the weight of your grief pressing down on you. The question you had been holding onto, the one that had haunted your every thought since that night, finally slipped from your lips.

“Did you have anything to do with the death of my son?” you asked, your voice breaking, though you tried to keep it steady. Your eyes searched your mother’s face, hoping to find a truth that could offer you some kind of peace.

Rhaenyra’s expression faltered for a moment, her eyes welling with sadness as she met your gaze. Her voice trembled slightly when she spoke, the sincerity in her words undeniable. “I could never do that to you,” she said softly, her hands clasping in front of her. “I know the pain of losing a child—how could I bring that pain to you, my own daughter? I would never wish that kind of grief upon you.”

Daemon, standing quietly beside her, didn’t say a word, but his eyes were sharp, his brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern. His gaze flickered between you and Rhaenyra, as if he too was trying to understand the depth of your pain, yet unsure how to ease it.

Rhaenyra continued, her voice growing more earnest. “I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it. If I had known, if I could have prevented it…” Her voice trailed off, the sorrow in her words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. “I would have done anything to stop it, just as I would have for any of my children.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. You could feel the tension, the uncertainty swirling between you, but there was a flicker of something—a glimmer of hope in her eyes that made you question whether it was possible that your own mother had been left as helpless as you in this tragedy.

But despite the sincerity in her voice, a part of you couldn’t let go of the doubt, the lingering fear that perhaps there were still pieces missing in the puzzle, pieces you needed to uncover to fully understand the truth.

As your gaze shifted to your father, Daemon, you saw his face remain cold and unreadable, offering no comfort or answer. His silence spoke volumes, and it gnawed at your heart. You couldn’t help but feel a growing unease. You turned your question to him, asking the same thing you had asked your mother.

“Did you have anything to do with the death of my son?”

Daemon’s gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unchanging. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. He said nothing.

The tension in the room thickened, the silence becoming suffocating. Your eyes remained on him, waiting for some sign—any sign—that he would speak, that he would offer an explanation. But all you got was the cold indifference of a man who seemed lost in his own thoughts.

It was then that your mother, Rhaenyra, seemed to realize something. Her eyes flickered between you and Daemon, her brow furrowing as if a thought had just crossed her mind. She looked at Daemon, her voice tinged with worry.

“Daemon,” she began, her tone softer now, as if trying to break through the wall he had erected around himself. “Why are you silent? If you know something… if you were involved, now is the time to speak.”

Daemon’s gaze shifted to her, and for the first time, a flicker of something—something hard to read—passed over his face. It wasn’t guilt, nor was it fear. It was something else, something colder, something you couldn’t quite place.

Rhaenyra’s voice softened, a quiet desperation in her words as she urged, “If you had any part in this… now is the time to tell her. She deserves to know the truth.”

Daemon remained still, his gaze dropping to the floor, as if contemplating whether or not to speak. His silence was more than just an absence of words—it was a statement, a question you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.

The weight of the room seemed to increase with every passing second. You wanted answers, but the more you questioned, the more you felt as if the truth was slipping further away from you.

As you stood, your hands trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief, you reached forward and tugged at your father’s tunic, pulling him just enough for him to look at you. Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat as you stared into his eyes, willing him to speak, to say something—anything—that would disprove your suspicion.

But he didn’t. He remained silent, his eyes distant, his face void of emotion. The longer his gaze stayed fixed on you without a single word, the more the truth settled in your chest, heavy and suffocating. The silence between you was deafening, louder than any words could ever be.

With a broken sob, you stepped back, releasing the grip on his tunic. It was clear now—your father was the one behind the brutal murder of your son. You could feel your legs weakening beneath you, your body trembling, as the weight of this revelation crashed down upon you.

“How could you?” you whispered, voice barely audible, but the pain in your words was unmistakable. “How could you do this to me, to your own blood?”

Daemon finally broke his silence, but not with words. His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as if bracing himself for something. He didn’t apologize, nor did he offer any explanation. His face remained cold, implacable—unbothered by the devastation he had caused.

Rhaenyra, who had been silently watching the exchange, now stood from her seat, her face pale as she approached you. “Please,” she said, her voice pleading, “you must understand. There is so much more at play here, so much that you don’t know.”

But it was too late. The truth had already been revealed. Your trust in them was shattered, and the pain of losing your son, compounded by the betrayal of your own flesh and blood, was too much to bear. The walls of the room seemed to close in around you, and you felt as if you were suffocating in the crushing weight of it all.

“You did this,” you said, barely able to get the words out, your voice quivering with the intensity of your grief. “You took him from me.”

Rhaenyra reached out to you, but you stepped back, holding up your hand to stop her. There was no comfort to be found here, not from them. You couldn’t bear it anymore.

With a final, bitter glance at your father, you turned and walked toward the door. The pain and betrayal coursed through your every step, but you couldn’t stay any longer. You needed space. You needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere they had created.

The truth had shattered everything you thought you knew about your family.

As you made your way back to the dragon, your heart felt like it was shattering with every step. The world around you seemed to blur, and all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. The weight of the betrayal was unbearable. You had trusted them, your own flesh and blood, only to find that they were the ones responsible for the greatest loss of your life.

Reaching the dragon, you stumbled, falling to your knees on the cold, unforgiving sand. The tears streamed down your face without restraint, as the grief, the anger, and the hurt poured out of you all at once. The dragon, sensing your distress, approached slowly, its great eyes watching you with an understanding that no one else could offer. You could hear its steady breath, feel the warmth of its body, but none of it brought comfort. Not now.

Your body trembled, each sob wracking your chest, as the full weight of the loss came crashing down. Your son was gone. Your family was broken. And the ones you had once turned to for support had become the very reason for your suffering.

You curled in on yourself, clutching your stomach instinctively, feeling the life growing inside you, the only remaining piece of hope. But even that seemed fragile in the face of everything that had happened.

“Why?” you whispered to the empty night, to the stars above that seemed distant and indifferent. “Why did this have to happen? Why did they have to take him from me?”

Your grief consumed you, leaving you feeling hollow and lost. The journey ahead felt uncertain, and the future seemed impossible to face. All you could do was cry, lost in the pain, surrounded by the only thing that had ever offered you some semblance of comfort—your dragon.

As you approached the gates of King’s Landing, each step felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your heart was heavy with sorrow, your mind clouded with grief. The castle loomed ahead, its dark silhouette a stark reminder of everything that had been lost. You could feel the weight of the eyes of the city upon you as you made your way through the streets, but nothing seemed to matter anymore.

When you arrived at the gates, the guards immediately took notice of your return. One of them rushed to inform Aegon of your presence, his concern clear in his hurried steps. You could almost sense his anxiousness, knowing that he had realized you had been gone for longer than you should have been.

You stood at the entrance, your body aching, your mind numb, as you waited for him. And then, just as you were about to turn back to your chambers, Aegon appeared before you, his face pale and strained. His eyes locked onto you with a mixture of relief and worry.

“My love,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “Where have you been? We’ve all been searching for you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak at first. Your throat was tight, the words trapped behind the walls of your grief. But his presence, his familiar face, finally broke through, and the tears that had been stifled for so long began to flow once more.

Aegon held you tightly in his arms, the warmth of his embrace providing a small comfort against the turmoil in your heart. He gently stroked your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, as if trying to reassure you that he was there, that he wouldn’t let you go again.

But you knew that nothing could fully ease the pain in your soul. The truth weighed heavily on you, a burden you could no longer keep inside.

With a trembling voice, you pulled away slightly to meet his eyes, your words choked with emotion. “Aegon…” you began, the weight of the revelation heavy on your chest. “I went to Dragonstone. I had to know the truth. It was my father…Daemon. He’s the one behind Jaeherys’ death.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. You could see the shock in Aegon’s eyes, the disbelief, as if he couldn’t fully grasp what you were saying.

“I’m so sorry,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to believe it either, but… my father did this. He had him killed, and I had no idea until now.”

Tears welled up again as you gazed at him, feeling a mix of devastation and guilt. You didn’t know how to face him, how to explain what had happened. You only hoped he would understand, that somehow, through all this darkness, you could find a way forward together.

Aegon tightened his embrace, pulling you closer as he whispered soothing words into your ear, his voice low and steady. “I won’t let this go unpunished,” he murmured, his tone filled with quiet resolve. “Daemon will pay for what he’s done to our family. To you.”

His words, though comforting, only made the weight of the situation feel heavier. The pain of losing Jaeherys, the betrayal of your own blood—it was all too much to bear. But as Aegon held you, his presence was a lifeline, grounding you amidst the storm inside.

“I’m here for you,” he continued softly, his fingers brushing through your hair. “We’ll get through this together. I won’t let you carry this burden alone.”

You nodded, your heart aching but finding some solace in his words. You didn’t know what the future would bring, but with Aegon by your side, you hoped you could find a way to heal.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @callsignwidow

[oceanicwriting]

a christmas to remember.

part one. part two.

summary: it's a new christmas. your whole life has changed since you finished college. you have a stable job at a publishing house, life in london, and a boyfriend you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. who would have thought that a year ago you were so lost in the big city.

pairing(s): non-wizard!theodore nott x non-wizard!fem!reader

a/n: i hope you're having a great christmas with the people you love! if it's not going as you expected, i wish next year it gets better. tons of love and kisses for you.

. . .

ㅤㅤㅤyou have a couple of blocks left to get to your apartment on the main avenue and, now that the cold seeps into every uncovered place on your body, you wished that the idea of ​​walking hadn't been so appealing in the first place.

ㅤㅤㅤ it had been a long day of work at the publishing house. a couple of days ago, a new investor had arrived in town, looking to speed up his work in the city, organizing meetings every day. if someone had told you that you would spend christmas eve in an office with ten cups of coffee on top of you, you would have laughed in their face, because you would swear that something like that would never happen.

ㅤㅤㅤyou focus on walking the last stretch to the apartment you share with your boyfriend, who had not reported in all day. in your hands, you carry his christmas present, things for dinner and food that you have stolen from the cafe at work.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen you arrive at your house, everything is still as silent as you left it that morning. the only thing different in the place is a note on the entrance table that, when you take it, allows you to read: "excited to have dinner with you tonight. i left what you had asked me for today on the fridge. see you, bella."

ㅤㅤㅤyour boyfriend has gotten into the habit of leaving notes all over the house ever since you told him his handwriting was beautiful. he has perfect penmanship with o's and a's so round you'd swear he'd copy and paste them every time he had to do them. you liked it because you could somehow feel the love he puts into a piece of paper addressed to you.

ㅤㅤㅤyou had met your boyfriend a year ago, and since then, everything has changed. college was over, you found a well-paying job, you moved ten blocks away from the office, adopted a cat, and decided to spend this first christmas together. just the two of you. so much had changed in less than a year it was terrifying.

ㅤㅤㅤafter you've put on more comfortable clothes, you start cooking dinner. halfway through, your mother calls on the phone with your entire family on the other side of the screen. there are so many greetings, jokes, and stories to tell since the last time your heart felt warm with love.

ㅤㅤㅤ—and where is he? —your mother asks, referring to your partner.

ㅤㅤㅤ—he should be around... —the sound of the front door makes you jump, but you know it's him by the simple sound of his footsteps—. he just arrived.

ㅤㅤㅤyou completely forget about the cell phone and go to greet him at the end of the entrance hall. theodore nott is standing there taking off his coat and scarf. you would never tire of saying that those shirts are tight in the right places on his body. when he turns to look at you, a smile slides on his lips, and he welcomes you into his arms.

ㅤㅤㅤ—hello.

ㅤㅤㅤ—hello —he whispers, unable to hold back the need to kiss his icy lips that make you forget the rest of the world instantly. his answer is what you expected, matching the movement and pulling you in by your hips—. h-hey, my mom’s on the phone in the kitchen.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore raises his eyebrows, making you laugh softly.

ㅤㅤㅤ—let me leave this under the tree and i’ll go.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, receiving one last peck from him. when theodore is in the kitchen, in front of the phone, your entire family loses their dignity as they fight over who talk to him first. it was so funny to watch that you couldn't help but step aside to watch him try to handle all the voices calling him like that first time they met him on your birthday.

ㅤㅤㅤyou don't know if it's because he's just arrived, but his messy hair and sleepy expression remind you of the first time you met him at the airport. that same day, he let you go, but you met again weeks later as if you were destined to be together.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore nott was the boy of your dreams. he was so devilishly beautiful, charming, and funny that your entire family fought to get his attention, although he always ended up choosing you. it was always you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—we're going to have dinner in a bit. we'll have to say goodbye —he says, picking up the phone to bring it closer and listen to the complaints because he can't stay connected any longer—. goodbye, everyone!

ㅤㅤㅤwhen your whole family seems satisfied with the intrusion, theodore cuts the call and puts the phone aside. he looks at you, coming closer to tie you to your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ—why didn't you wait for me to cook? —he asks, kissing your face over and over again softly.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh at the feeling of his lips.

ㅤㅤㅤ—because I didn't know you would arrive so early. is everything okay at work?

ㅤㅤㅤyou've been used to the monotonous, everyday conversation for a while now. you loved it. you loved the way he talked sleepily, smiling when you told him a story from the publishing house and kissing your face when he stared at you for too long. somehow, you knew you were meant to spend your lives like this.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i can't believe we met a year ago —you whisper, cutting off the conversation that had started a few minutes ago—. a year ago we saw each other for the first time and now we live together, theo. can you believe it?

ㅤㅤㅤhe turns off the stove, finishing the meal and approaches you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—of course, i can believe it, bella. —his hands take your face delicately and look at you as if they read the depths of your soul—. from the moment we saw each other and you read me as if it were the easiest thing in the world, i knew i was going to be happily chained to you.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh, being drowned by his lips sticking to yours, tasting the lipstick you had put on. his touch feels as anxious as it is happy from the connection that runs through your bodies. then, his hands are positioned on your waist, and the movement of his mouth against yours makes you not fall back on the little meows of the cat.

ㅤㅤㅤthe feeling takes you to that day at the airport, after leaving that cafeteria with the feeling of having forgotten him. It had always been him. theodore was going to be the person who, no matter where you are, would make you feel at home. he had felt exactly the same.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you.

ㅤㅤㅤhis voice, whispering near your lips, makes you smile and hug his neck tighter.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you too.

ㅤㅤㅤ—but lola wants to eat —he says, making you laugh and separate yourself from him.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen he walks away, all you can think about is how you long for the passing of the years to be together forever.

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 5

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4

Me, at the end of this episode:

Well, @starryalpacasstuff, I understand why you were excited for me to get to this episode, because it was a lot. So, here we go:

Pat definitely isn't beating the puppy allegations with his propensity for sniffing everything.

Don't be a lying liar now, Pran; you think Pat's face is the epitome of cuteness. I know they are going to hurt me because they opened this episode with this domesticity.

Ok, I need 3 business days to process my feelings about Pran's doodles of their interactions. Pran, my beloved, is a top-tier yearner.

"There's nothing wrong with rewearing clothes." Pat is a sustainability king.

Ink, are you a PatPran shipper? If so, please join Pa, who is waiting for you in the corner with snacks.

Pat, tell me you didn't bring Ink to the place where you had your first date with Pran. You did? The betrayal! I guess I'll have to forgive you because you yourself weren't aware that you were on a date with Pran.

Pa's in the house, guys. Reason has entered the chat. I love that she encourages him to know if his feelings for Ink are genuine or not.

I hope we get to see more of Ink and Pa together, even if it's just them being friends.

Oh, this is interesting. Pat is subconsciously realizing that he sees Pran in a different light. What exactly? He doesn't know. I do feel bad for my confused son, though.

Pran saw Pat and Ink on their date at the mall. Why is the world conspiring against my boy to only cause him pain?

So, we're going the jealousy route now, aren't we?

Not Pat asking Pran if Wai ever spent the night in the dorm 💀💀. And Pran, totally unaware of Pat's emotional turmoil, answered that Wai in fact did sleep right where Pat did.

These flashbacks are killing me. Pran was really soft-launching a confession by saying that he wanted to compose a song that conveys the sense of 'born to be together.' AHHHHHHHH.

Something about Pat asking Pran if he would like him if Pran were Ink and Pa telling Pat that she would confess her feelings to Ink if she were Pat is making me wanna chew on glass.

Pran asking Pat if Ink is at the contest venue and saying that she should be there to support Pran😭😭😭😭.

NO. HE DID NOT. Pran, bestie, tell me you didn't belt out the song that you wrote with your high school 'friend' in a competition against him. You did! Is it petty? Maybe. Petty Pran is in the house and I AM LIVING. I support him 100 percent.

Ink, the woman that you are!!! "You don't seem to be afraid of heartbreak." She was spitting nothing but facts here. Now that Pat knows where he and Ink stand, I hope she remains being a great friend to him because my boy's a mess, and he can use all the help he can get while sorting out his romantic feelings for Pran. I don't think his friends are going to be of any help in this matter. He has Pa, but I think Ink can be more objective when it comes to Pran.

Pat is jealous that his 'friendship' with Pran is a secret.

Pat really went from saying, "I'm not your wife," to acting like a jilted wife in this episode.

Pran, the philosopher that you are. I have half a mind to write about his "Nothing means nothing" to Wai regarding his relationship with Pat.

I'm not really feeling Wai here, guys. Pran asked him to not interfere, but why did he still hit Pat? Thank God that Pran, haver of all brain cells, told him to go home.

Was it only in Ep 2 that Pat wanted to meet the person who was crushing on him on the rooftop? We sure came a long way from there.

Pat is very open about his feelings. He doesn't know why he is feeling what he is feeling, but he still is trying to explain them to Pran.

If we're not enemies, do you think we can be friends? Why? Do you want us to be friends? No.

Can I get this etched onto my soul? Please and thank you.

THE KISS. God, the emotional weight it carried!! Their reactions after they part from the kiss are very telling—Pat has a smile on his face, and Pran is crying and not with joy. After Pran leaves him alone on the rooftop, I think it dawned on Pat as to what all just happened.

Side note on jealousy vs. envy:

Jealousy: to get upset and angry because someone you love seems interested in another person. Envy: to wish that you had something that another person has.

Pat is jealous when he sees Pran and Wai together. Pran, on the other hand, was envious of the person who was on the receiving end of Pat's affections. Jealousy wasn't what Pran had experienced till now when it came to Pat, because he never imagined that he had a chance with him. This is where we see the differences in their personalities and the reason for Pran, with tears down his cheeks, leaving Pat behind on the rooftop after their kiss. Pran has made peace with the fact that he'll be a yearner forever where Pat is concerned. Pat, my beloved, is a bit impulsive and wants to throw caution to the wind and see where things land, unlike Pran, who is a planner and enjoys structure and order in his life. Just because Pran had feelings for Pat for all these years doesn't mean that he thought about how he would deal with them if they were reciprocated. Classic yearner mindset!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou. If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.

[strwbrryfire]

oh precious universe please never do anything else to take away that smile

[vaguely-concerned]

:) foreshadowing is a literary device —

[sapphicautistic]

my partner's family is 100% how i'm going to get covid

[theflyingfeeling]

the love of my entire life

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family