#it's just what seeing my own grief treated carefully feels like

[binomech]

Free Devon 2025 remains tragically relevant

Helly's isolation after coming back is hitting some personal rough spots and the weight it's being given as an act of cruelty towards her is flooring me. She doesn't know she was raped. She doesn't know Helena raped Mark S. The way it doesn't even quite hit for Mark S. until Milchick corners him in the elevator over it before sending him up mid-panic attack...

Mr. Milchick, don't turn to reactionary violence against your comrades when the cognitive dissonance hits you're so sexy aha (but for real. Natalie's silence, Ms. Huang's needling, all of it was just... punch up, dude. Punch up and get the fuck out. You can't reform eugenics inc.)

Dylan's speech for Irving coming in with the vibes:

I loved my friend. He went away from me. There's nothing more to say. The poem ends, soft as it began: I loved my friend.

Like Mark's private eulogy for Gemma in season 1, like Ms. Casey returning it at the end of this episode, like Dylan's speech, like Irving Bailiff pressing his hand against his paintings like Mark did against the tree that took Gemma: I loved this person, and now they're gone. They were picky and they were strange, wonderful people and the tangling of our lives changed us forever in ways we could not predict. I love you. I miss you. I carry you in who I am after you.

I've been dreading a string-of-fate plotline for outie Irving and Burt and this reveal has been possibly the most meaningful thing to me. It was a kindness that warmed me whole. I think the us down there might have loved each other, mine got sacked a few weeks ago over it, mine got fired as well, (they're dead, we made them and we hoped they'd be happier than us, and now they're dead), come by my place, have dinner with me and my husband. You don't have to do this alone. You are a stranger but I am choosing, deliberately, to offer you a community to lean on. We cared about those versions of us we never even met. They loved each other. They deserve this attempt at connection.

Irving B., even while literally erased from physical record in the office down to the desk and the photos, leaves a message for Dylan, beating himself up for letting the company kill him, for not listening, for not helping. You wanted me to live until I figured out exports, and I got myself killed before that, and I'm sorry. But you can still do this, you still have a place in this office and in the world. You stayed behind. You always do. You can find a way out for all of us.

Mollified by that last shot of Mark. I've mentioned the list of lovable idiosyncrasies as presented by outie facts but it really hit me that... we just don't know who Mark was before the grief for Gemma ate him away. Your outie is going to heal, as he falls apart at the sight of her.

[hisfavegirl]

The Queen Grief - King Aegon Targaryen x TwinSister!Reader

Summary : After the incident where your son was killed coldly, you were drowned in anger and also hated.

part II.

You were consumed by grief and rage, your heart aching as you watched the servants carefully lift your son’s bloodstained blanket. They were going to burn it, or perhaps throw it away, treating it like nothing more than a piece of cloth stained by death. The thought of it made you tremble with fury.

Your eyes shifted to the bed where your son had once slept, now soaked in blood—his blood. The memory of his innocent face, his little hands grasping the blanket you had carefully knitted for him, made your chest tighten with unbearable pain. You reached for the soft fabric, clutching it tightly to your chest as fresh tears began to fall.

The blanket, once a symbol of warmth and love, now felt like a cruel reminder of what had been stolen from you. You could almost hear his voice again, that soft giggle when you’d first shown him the blanket, the joy in his eyes when he wrapped it around himself, feeling safe in your arms.

“I made this for you, my sweet Jaehaerys,” you whispered through the tears, the words heavy with the weight of loss. “I promised I would protect you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t protect you from them.”

The memory of his reaction, the bright smile and the way his tiny hands ran over the knitted fabric, was now a bitter and painful reminder of how brief his life had been. You clutched the blanket tighter, your sobs wracking your body, and you felt a deep ache inside you that could never be filled. The warmth of his presence, the sound of his laughter—gone. And in its place, only the cold, lifeless blanket and the bloodstains that would never wash away.

You collapsed onto the floor, your body shaking as you sat amidst the scattered toys that once filled your son’s room with joy. The small wooden blocks, the tiny figurines—each one a reminder of the life he would never get to live, the laughter and innocence that would never be heard again. Your tears flowed freely, and the pain in your chest became unbearable.

The sound of your sobs filled the room, louder and more desperate with each passing moment. Your heart ached for him, for the life stolen from you both. You cried out for the child you would never see again, for the dreams that would never come true. Your breath came in ragged gasps as the grief overwhelmed you.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of Aegon’s arms around you, pulling you close, and his voice, cracked with emotion, whispered in your ear. “I’m here. I’m with you. I’ll never leave you.” His words were a comfort, but the sorrow in his voice matched your own, his tears mingling with yours.

You leaned into him, trembling with the force of your grief. The two of you clung to each other, crying together, mourning the loss of your son in a silence that spoke of shared pain. Aegon’s embrace, his steady presence, was the only thing grounding you in that moment, but nothing could fill the aching void left in your heart.

And so, you cried. You cried until your tears seemed endless, until the weight of the world felt too much to bear. Aegon cried with you, his own sorrow mixing with yours, and for that moment, it felt as though you were no longer alone in your grief. But the emptiness of loss still lingered, heavy and suffocating, as the two of you wept for the son you had lost.

After a long, silent weeping, Aegon finally made the decision to lift you in his arms. His steps were slow and steady, as though the weight of grief was pulling him down just as much as it had consumed you. Your body felt light in his arms, yet heavy with sorrow. Every step he took was an effort, but he kept going, determined to bring you some measure of comfort.

As he walked through the hallways, trying to escape the suffocating grief, a group of soldiers appeared before him. One of them, looking hesitant yet resolute, stepped forward.

“Your Grace,” the soldier said, his voice respectful but firm, “The Dowager Queen has commanded that the Queen has to meet her at her private solar, as per her instructions.”

Aegon’s jaw tightened. His eyes, filled with the same pain that tore at your heart, locked onto the soldier’s. His voice, cold and unwavering, rang out in the tense silence.

“No,” Aegon replied, his tone low but carrying the weight of his authority. “I will not hand her over. I will take her to our chambers.”

The soldier hesitated, glancing at the others, but none of them moved. They understood the King’s command. Aegon, despite the crown on his head, was not swayed by the demands of his mother, the Queen Dowager. His focus was entirely on you, his queen, his wife, the woman who was grieving the loss of their son.

With no further words, Aegon continued his path toward your room. The soldiers reluctantly stepped aside, not daring to challenge him again. The halls seemed eerily quiet as Aegon carried you with care, every step bringing him closer to a place where, for just a moment, there would be no responsibilities, no demands—only the quiet solace of being together.

When the door to your chamber finally closed behind him, Aegon gently laid you on the bed, his heart heavy but steadfast. He sat beside you, taking your hand in his, and in the quiet stillness of the room, he whispered, “I’m here. I will never leave you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You clung to Aegon’s body, wrapping your arms tightly around him as if you could draw strength from his presence. The storm of emotion inside you seemed endless, the grief so deep you couldn’t see past it. His warmth was the only comfort in that moment, and you buried your face against his chest, closing your eyes, trying to escape the overwhelming pain.

Aegon held you close, his breath steady against your hair, his arms strong around you. After a long pause, he slowly closed his eyes, allowing the quiet of the room to wash over both of you. Then, with a soft and gentle touch, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if trying to convey all the love and sorrow he felt without words.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing, “I’m here, and I won’t leave you.”

Then, to calm you, Aegon began to hum softly, the familiar melody of a song you loved, one that had always brought you peace in moments of chaos. His voice was hushed, carrying the melody gently as he softly rocked you in his arms.

The tune, a song you’d always cherished, seemed to weave its way through the tension and heartache, slowly, gently pulling you back from the edge of your grief. His voice, full of love and concern, was the only thing you could focus on, and with each note, you felt a small measure of calm washing over you.

His arms around you were strong, a shield against the world outside, and in that moment, with his voice humming that familiar, soothing tune, you finally allowed yourself to rest, to close your eyes and let the pain ease—if only for a brief moment.

As the soft hum of Aegon’s voice began to soothe you, a sound from the doorway broke through the fragile peace. You opened your eyes, turning your head, and there she was—your mother, Alicent, standing with an air of composed determination. Her gaze swept over the room, lingering on the sight of you in Aegon’s arms, clutching the blanket that had once been your son’s.

Tears threatened to rise again as you held the bloodstained fabric closer, pressing it against your face, the faintest hint of your son’s scent still clinging to it. The weight of Alicent’s presence, however, was impossible to ignore.

Her voice was calm but firm, her tone leaving no room for argument. “His body will be taken through the kingdom,” she said. “The people must see the tragedy, must know who is responsible for the death of their prince. You- we will ride in the carriage directly behind him.”

Her words struck like a blade. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, the grief and fury warring within you. Slowly, you shook your head, lowering the blanket from your face. “No,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “I won’t do it.”

Alicent’s expression hardened, but there was something else there too—perhaps a flicker of understanding or even pity. “This is for the realm,” she pressed. “For your son’s justice.”

You sat up, Aegon’s hand resting protectively on your back as you faced her. “Justice?” you repeated bitterly, your voice rising. “Parading his body like a spectacle is not justice—it’s cruelty. It’s not for him, it’s for your politics.”

Alicent’s lips tightened into a thin line. She took a step forward, her gaze sharp but laced with concern. “It’s what must be done. The people need to see—”

“No!” you interrupted, standing now despite the weakness in your legs. “I won’t let his memory be used this way. I won’t ride behind him as if he’s nothing more than a tool in this war.”

Alicent stared at you, the tension between mother and daughter palpable, the silence heavy. Aegon rose beside you, his arm steadying you as he spoke, his voice low but firm. “She has made her decision,” he said, addressing Alicent directly. “And as her husband—and her king—I stand by it.”

Alicent’s expression faltered for a moment, her mouth opening as if to argue, but she said nothing. With a stiff nod, she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the hall. You exhaled shakily, leaning into Aegon’s support, your heart still heavy but resolute in your refusal to let your son’s memory be tarnished.

The moment you heard the words—the news that your son’s head had been found and sewn back onto his small, lifeless body—you felt your knees weaken, but the urgency in your heart propelled you forward. You moved with haste, ignoring the calls of servants and guards as you hurried to where they had brought him.

When you entered the dimly lit chamber, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, your sweet boy, lying on a cold stone slab. His tiny body, once so full of life and laughter, now lay stiff and pale. The stitching on his neck was visible, crude and brutal, a reminder of the horror he had endured.

You froze for a moment, your mind unwilling to fully accept the sight before you. But then the wave of grief crashed over you, and you rushed forward, falling to your knees beside him. Trembling, you reached out, your hands brushing against his cold, lifeless skin.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you let out a broken sob. “My sweet boy,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “My Jaehaerys… please, wake up.”

You wrapped your arms around his small, fragile body. His coldness pierced through you, but you didn’t care. “Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “Please come back to me. Just one more time. Hold me back. Call me ‘Mother’ again.”

Your sobs filled the room as you cradled him, pressing kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his tiny hands. You clung to him as if your love alone could undo the cruelty of fate. But no matter how tightly you held him, no matter how desperately you cried, his small body remained still and unresponsive.

The world felt cruel and empty as you wept, your tears falling onto his lifeless face. There was nothing left but the unbearable silence and the weight of your sorrow.

Through the haze of your grief, you forced yourself to lift your head. His face was peaceful, but his silence screamed louder than anything. The coldness of his skin cut through your soul like a knife.

You turned to the nearest servant, your voice cracking with desperation. “Bring me his blanket. The one I made for him. Hurry!”

The servant hesitated, unsure of how to act in the face of your anguish, but a sharp glance from you spurred them into action. As they hurried away, you turned back to your son, your tears blurring your vision.

“Jaehaerys,” you whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You always loved that blanket. Do you remember? You said it made you feel safe. I’ll keep you warm, my love. I promise I’ll keep you warm.

Moments later, the servant returned, carefully holding the soft blanket you had poured hours of love into crafting. You snatched it from their hands, your fingers clutching the fabric as though it held the last pieces of him.

With trembling hands, you draped the blanket over his tiny body, tucking it in as though he were merely asleep. But the lifelessness of his form made your chest tighten further, and the tears came again in an uncontrollable flood.

You collapsed beside him, your hand resting on his covered chest, hoping against hope that you might feel it rise and fall, that somehow this nightmare might end. But there was nothing. No warmth, no breath, no heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, your voice breaking as you leaned down to kiss his cold forehead. “I couldn’t protect you. My baby, my sweet boy, I couldn’t save you.”

You stayed there, your body wracked with sobs, as you clung to him. The servants stood back, silent witnesses to a mother’s endless grief, as your cries echoed through the chamber—a lament for a life stolen too soon.

Your trembling hand reached out, brushing against the cold, pale skin of your son’s cheek. His once rosy complexion was now a stark, lifeless white. You traced his delicate features, your fingers lingering on the softness of his face, as though you could imprint the memory of him into your very soul.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, falling onto his still, small body. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your quiet sobs. Your heart ached with a pain so raw it felt as if it might tear you apart.

But as the weight of your grief pressed down on you, a fire ignited within your chest—a burning rage that pushed through the despair. You clenched your jaw, your hand still resting on his lifeless cheek, and whispered through your tears, “I swear, my son… I swear on your name, on your memory, on my very life—whoever did this to you will pay.”

Your voice grew stronger, more resolute, as if speaking the words aloud gave them power. “I don’t care what it costs me. Whether it’s my blood, my crown, or my life. I will avenge you, Jaehaerys. I promise you, they will suffer as you have suffered.”

The rage coursing through you felt like the only thing keeping you upright. It was no longer just grief—it was a mission, a purpose that would drive you forward no matter the cost.

You leaned down, pressing a trembling kiss to his icy forehead, your tears falling onto his skin. “Rest now, my love,” you whispered. “I will not let this injustice stand. I will make them pay.”

The vow settled into your heart, cold and unshakable, as you stayed beside him, your hand never leaving his face. Though your heart was shattered, your resolve was forged in steel, and nothing—not the gods, not death itself—would stop you from honoring the promise you made to your beloved son.

Your steps echoed through the long corridors as you made your way toward the council chamber. The fire of grief and vengeance burned within you, your mind consumed with thoughts of your son. Every step you took felt heavier, yet you pressed forward, drawn by the voices echoing from the chamber ahead.

As you approached, their words became clear.

“They were vermin, nothing more,” Aemond’s sharp voice declared, calm yet cutting. “The rats in this kingdom must know there is no tolerance for disloyalty or treachery.”

Another voice, one of the council members, spoke hesitantly, “But, the display—hanging them at the gates—some might see it as excessive.”

And then, you heard your husband’s voice, steady and resolute, with a dangerous edge that left no room for argument. “They killed my son,” Aegon said, his tone icy. “Excessive would have been feeding them to the dragons piece by piece. This kingdom will know what happens to those who betray the crown and harm my family.”

The words struck you like a hammer. You froze just outside the door, the image of the gates filled your mind—bodies dangling as a gruesome warning. Aegon had taken his grief and turned it into action, his vengeance swift and unrelenting.

You pushed the doors open without hesitation, stepping into the room. The council members turned to look at you, their expressions ranging from surprise to discomfort. Aemond stood to one side, arms crossed, his eye narrowing as he observed you. At the head of the table, Aegon sat, his face unreadable until he saw you.

You locked eyes with him, the air in the room thick with tension. “Is it true?” you asked, your voice trembling but firm. “Did you hang them at the gates?”

Aegon rose from his chair, his gaze steady as he approached you. “I did,” he replied without hesitation. “They took our son from us. They deserved worse.”

You searched his face, seeing the same pain and anger you carried in your heart. Yet, something about it unsettled you—the coldness, the finality of his actions. “And what justice have you found, Aegon?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Does it bring him back?”

He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm gently. “No,” he admitted, his voice softening. “But it ensures that no one else dares to harm what’s ours.”

You looked down, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. Part of you wanted to rage, to scream at the futility of it all. Yet another part of you—the part consumed by your own need for vengeance—understood him all too well.

As the council chamber settled into a tense silence following Aegon’s admission, a sharp voice cut through the air. Otto Hightower, standing at the far end of the table, slammed his hand against the wood, his face twisted with fury.

“This was reckless, Your Grace!” he bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Hanging the rat-catchers at the gates like common criminals? What will the realm think? What will this do to the crown’s dignity? Such actions—”

Aegon spun toward Otto, his eyes blazing with fury. “Dignity?” he snapped, his voice cold and filled with venom. “You think I care about dignity, Otto? They took my son! My son, who was barely old enough to speak his own name!”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Aegon stepped forward, his voice growing louder, trembling with both rage and pain. “Do you know what dignity means to me now? Nothing! Dignity didn’t save him. Dignity didn’t stop his head from being torn from his body. So don’t you stand there and lecture me about what is too far.”

Otto’s mouth opened as if to respond, but Aegon cut him off, taking another step closer, his presence commanding the room. “I am the king,” he growled. “And as long as I wear this crown, no one—no one—will harm what is mine without paying for it in blood. Do you understand me?”

Alicent, standing near the door, placed a hand over her chest, her expression a mixture of sorrow and alarm. Even Aemond, ever composed, shifted slightly where he stood, his single eye flicking between Otto and Aegon.

“You have lost sight of the bigger picture,” Otto finally said, his voice quieter but no less firm. “Revenge clouds your judgment. This will have consequences.”

Aegon’s expression hardened further, his fists clenching at his sides. “Then let there be consequences,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ll bear them gladly if it means justice for my son.”

You stood there, watching the exchange, torn between the grief that mirrored Aegon’s and the unease Otto’s words stirred in you. In Aegon’s eyes, there was nothing but pain and vengeance, a fire that seemed unstoppable. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, grounding him for just a moment.

“Aegon,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “Let’s not lose ourselves completely to this. Not yet.”

He looked at you, his anger dimming slightly as he took in your tear-streaked face. With a deep breath, he turned away from Otto, his grip on control tenuous but holding—for now.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, you turned and left the council chamber, your steps hurried and uneven as the weight of grief pressed down on you. The echoes of raised voices faded behind you, replaced by the quiet hum of the corridors. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if trying to hold your breaking heart together, and made your way back to your chambers.

When you arrived at your chambers, the sight that greeted you pulled you to a halt. The servants were moving quietly, laying out a gown of rich black and deep green across the bed. Beside it rested a matching hood, its dark fabric shimmering faintly in the candlelight.

These were no ordinary garments—they were the colors of House Hightower, the mourning attire of the queen dowager’s line, meant to signify grief and strength in equal measure. Yet, to you, they only symbolized loss, a cruel reminder of the funeral you would soon endure.

One of the servants noticed your presence and turned, bowing their head respectfully. “Your Grace,” they said softly, their voice carefully measured, “the Queen Dowager requested these be prepared for you. She thought they would honor both your son and your house.”

You took a step closer, your gaze fixed on the heavy fabrics. Your hands trembled as you reached out to touch the gown. The black velvet felt cold beneath your fingers, while the deep green embroidery—a shade you once associated with pride—now seemed hollow, devoid of its former meaning.

The servant continued, their tone apologetic. “The procession will begin shortly. Queen Alicent thought—”

“Enough,” you interrupted, your voice barely above a whisper but heavy with emotion. The servant fell silent, stepping back to give you space.

You picked up the hood, its weight seeming far heavier than its fabric should allow. Holding it close to your chest, you sank onto the edge of the bed, your tears spilling over as you clutched it tightly.

“Green and black,” you murmured, your voice cracking. “For what purpose? To parade my grief for the realm to see? To show the world the price I have paid?”

Your gaze drifted to the gown again, and the pain in your chest swelled, suffocating you. “None of this will bring him back,” you whispered, the words breaking as they left your lips.

You closed your eyes, pressing the hood to your face as tears fell freely. The room seemed to close in around you, heavy with the weight of your loss, as the preparations for the ceremony continued in quiet, dutiful silence.

You sat motionless before the mirror, staring at your own reflection as if it were a stranger staring back at you. The pale, hollow-eyed face that greeted you bore little resemblance to the woman you once were. Your hands rested limply in your lap, surrendering to the servants who worked silently around you.

One was carefully weaving your hair into an intricate braid, while another secured the black hood over your head, its heavy fabric draping over your shoulders. Every movement felt mechanical, detached, as though this wasn’t truly happening to you. You had stopped fighting. You had stopped resisting.

You had surrendered.

The weight of the mourning gown clung to your skin, and the air seemed thick, suffocating in the quiet of the room. The finality of it all settled over you like a shroud, and you sat there, staring, as the servants completed their work.

Then the door opened.

The sound drew your gaze, and your reflection shifted as you turned your head. Standing in the doorway was your mother, Queen Dowager Alicent Hightower, dressed in a dark green gown that matched the depths of her sorrow. Her black hood framed her face, highlighting the familiar resolve in her eyes—a look you had seen countless times.

Her presence filled the room, yet neither of you spoke at first. She took a step inside, her gaze sweeping over you. For a moment, the queen dowager and the grieving mother collided within her, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

“You are ready,” she said softly, her voice steady but heavy with emotion.

You didn’t respond, turning your eyes back to the mirror. The servant adjusted the final pin in your hood and stepped back, bowing her head before retreating to the corner.

“I see you’ve decided to join the procession,” Alicent continued, stepping closer to you. Her green gown swayed slightly as she walked, the fabric catching the dim light. “This is as it should be. The realm must see your strength… and your grief.”

At her words, your fists clenched in your lap, but you didn’t turn to face her. Instead, you stared at your reflection, your expression unreadable. “Strength?” you repeated quietly, your voice laced with bitterness. “Is that what this is supposed to be?”

Alicent paused, her hands clasping tightly in front of her. “It is what must be done,” she said firmly, though her voice softened as she added, “for him. For Jaehaerys.”

Her words cut through you like a blade, and you closed your eyes, trying to block out the tears that threatened to fall again. “Do you think he would want this?” you whispered. “For his body to be paraded through the streets while his mother sits silently behind it?”

Alicent sighed, stepping closer until she stood just behind you, her reflection now visible in the mirror alongside your own. “He would want the world to see the price of this treachery,” she said quietly but with conviction. “And so would you, if only your heart were not so broken.”

You turned your gaze away from the mirror, unable to look at her any longer. “My heart is broken, Mother,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “And I wonder if it will ever heal.”

Alicent rested a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but meant to be comforting. “It may not,” she admitted, her voice gentle. “But you will endure. You are my daughter. You will endure.”

And with that, the room fell silent once more, the weight of her words pressing down on you as heavily as the mourning garments you wore.

The creaking of the wooden wheels and the steady clatter of hooves filled the air as the funeral procession made its somber journey through the streets. You sat silently beside your mother in the dark confines of the carriage, the heavy mourning gown clinging to your body like a second layer of grief.

Your gaze remained fixed on the carriage ahead of you, where the small, still form of your son lay. Wrapped in the blanket you had lovingly made for him, his tiny body was carefully cradled on a velvet bier, his pale face framed by soft curls that once shone with life.

On his head rested the small crown you and Aegon had given him for his fourth nameday. You remembered how his eyes had lit up with delight when he first saw it, how he had run around the chamber declaring himself “a king like Papa.” The memory stabbed at your chest, and tears silently slipped down your cheeks, unnoticed by the world outside.

Beside you, your mother sat upright and composed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The dark green of her gown blended with the black hood she wore, her expression unreadable as she gazed straight ahead. But even in her stoicism, you could feel her grief—muted, controlled, yet no less profound.

The crowds lined the streets, their murmurs and whispers barely audible over the sound of the procession. Some wept openly, others lowered their heads in respect, and a few simply stared, their faces etched with shock and sorrow.

Your eyes never left the small form ahead of you. “He’s so cold,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you broke the heavy silence in the carriage.

Alicent turned her head slightly, her sharp eyes softening as they fell on you. “The blanket,” she said gently, her voice barely above a whisper. “It will keep him warm, even now.”

You shook your head, your hands clutching at your gown. “It’s not enough,” you murmured, your voice cracking. “He needs to feel loved. He needs… he needs to wake up.”

Alicent reached out, placing a steady hand over yours. Her touch was firm, grounding you even as her heart ached alongside yours. “He knows he is loved,” she said quietly. “You showed him that every day of his life. That love… it does not end, even now.”

You turned your head to look at her, searching for comfort in her words, but the raw pain in your chest remained unyielding. “Then why does it feel like it’s not enough?”

She didn’t answer, only holding your hand tightly as the carriage carried you forward, the weight of your shared grief filling the air. Ahead of you, the small crown on Jaehaerys’s head glinted faintly in the light, a fragile, heart-wrenching reminder of what you had lost.

As the procession reached the Dragonpit, the air seemed to grow heavier, thick with the weight of grief and the whispers of the gathered crowd. You stepped down from the carriage, your body trembling with exhaustion and sorrow, but the moment your feet touched the ground, the atmosphere shifted.

Your mother following close behind. The crowd pressed closer, their faces filled with sorrow, but their hands reached out too eagerly, too insistently. The weight of their stares, their words, their touch became unbearable.

“Your Grace,” a woman said, gripping your hand tightly, her voice trembling. “The realm mourns with you. Prince Jaehaerys—”

You pulled your hand away, trembling as others replaced her, one after another, their voices blurring into an incomprehensible hum.

“Such a tragedy,” someone else murmured.

“Your strength inspires us all,” another said.

But their words felt like needles pricking at your raw grief. Your chest tightened, and your breathing grew faster, shallower. Your hands trembled uncontrollably as you stepped back, your gaze darting around frantically.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head as tears began to fall. “No, I—I can’t…”

You turned to leave, but the crowd surged forward, their outstretched hands reaching for you. It was too much—the noise, the faces, the pity. Your knees buckled, and you clutched your chest as your sobs erupted.

“I don’t want this!” you cried, your voice cracking as you stumbled back. “I don’t want to do this! Stop—please, stop!”

A strong arm wrapped around your shoulders, steadying you. Aegon was at your side in an instant, his face etched with concern and anger as he glared at the crowd. “Back away!” he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. “All of you, back away now!”

The crowd hesitated, murmurs rippling through them as they began to retreat. Aegon pulled you closer, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he guided you toward the nearest private space.

“It’s too much,” you sobbed into his chest, clutching at his tunic as though he were the only thing anchoring you to the world. “I can’t… I can’t do this, Aegon.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I know. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He turned his head, addressing a knight who had stepped forward. “Clear the area. No one approaches her again without my permission.”

The knight nodded and moved to carry out his orders, while Aegon held you tightly, his hand stroking your back as he whispered, “Breathe, my love. I’m here. Just breathe.”

Your tears continued to fall, but his presence grounded you, offering a fragile sense of safety amidst the overwhelming tide of grief and chaos.

The moment came, heavy and suffocating, as Aegon stepped forward to give the final command. You stood by his side, your knees trembling as your eyes remained fixed on the small, still form of your son.

Aegon’s voice rang out, steady but laced with pain, as he uttered the word that sealed your son’s farewell. “Dracarys.”

Sunfyre roared, his golden scales shimmering as he unleashed a torrent of flame. The heat surged forward, consuming the bier in an instant. You watched, helpless, as the fire licked at the edges of the blanket you had made, the crown atop his head glowing briefly before it, too, was claimed by the flames.

The sight was unbearable. A strangled sob escaped your lips, and your body seemed to give out under the weight of your grief. The roaring fire blurred as tears streamed down your cheeks, your vision darkening.

“Aegon…” you whispered weakly, reaching for him before your knees buckled.

Aegon turned just in time to catch you as you collapsed into his arms, your body limp. “No!” he cried, his voice breaking as panic overtook him. “Someone—help!”

He cradled you tightly, his arms trembling as he lowered you gently to the ground. “Wake up,” he begged, his voice desperate as he stroked your face, his thumb brushing away the tears still clinging to your cheeks. “Please, my love, wake up!”

The attendants and guards rushed forward, but Aegon barked at them to stay back. “She’s my wife!” he snapped, his voice a mixture of fury and anguish. “Don’t touch her!”

Alicent appeared moments later, her face pale as she knelt beside her son. “What happened?” she asked urgently, her hands hovering uncertainly over you.

“She fainted,” Aegon said, his voice trembling. “She couldn’t bear it.”

Alicent’s expression softened with sorrow as she looked at you, then at her son. “She needs rest,” she said firmly. “Get her to her chambers.”

Aegon didn’t wait for further instruction. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. His heart pounded as he carried you away from the flames, the weight of the moment pressing down on him with every step.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I swear I’ll take care of you.”

tag list : @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd (italic means that i can’t tag you)

[zoros-fourth-sword]

Scarlett- Chapter Three

Summary: Portgas D. Scarlett  Ace's older sister, decides to join Trafalgar Law's crew as their navigator after her brother's death. At first, she is distant and consumed with grief over her loss, but as she spends more time with Law and his crew, she begins to find comfort in their shared experiences.

As they journey together through the Grand Line, Law, and Scarlett must face off against dangerous foes and navigate the treacherous waters of the New World. Along the way, they grow closer, and Scarlett begins to see Law in a new light.

But their love is not without its challenges, as Law is still haunted by his past and the events that led him to become a pirate. Scarlett must confront her feelings of guilt and loss over her brother's death if she wants to move forward with Law.

WC: 1.6k

Taglist: @3v37773 @sukunas-play-thing

WARNINGS: depression, grief, mention of death

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Chapter Three: Traffy Laffy

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Today was already a shit fucking day I had zero energy to get up let alone use the bathroom I have been so stuck in my mind thinking about the one hundred different things that I could have done to prevent my little brother's death and it sucked how I desperately wanna live with Dadan aging the troll looking woman actually stole a piece of my heart she did help me keep the boys calm ( more like I helped her). Someone had to be the adult out of the four siblings and of course, it had to be me. The boys weren’t even smart enough to cook in the house; they would probably burn it down in less than 5 seconds.

Imagining the memories I shared with the ASL brothers broke my heart and knowing I couldn't change the past or the future hurt me even more. I'm going to have to accept that Ace is dead, and I'm not quite ready for that. I want to stay in my own little world, where I can see my brothers happy again. I don't want to accept that Luffy and I are missing two people that we may never see again it was a hard pill for me to swallow

“Knock knock can I come in” someone said from behind my door the voice sounding like a females

“Y -yea,” I say clearing my throat as I lean up

“Hi I just wanted to check on you,” the girl said as she entered my room taking a seat at the foot of my bed

“Thank you,” I say giving the girl a weak smile

“I heard what happened and I’m really sorry,” the girl said as she grabbed my hand giving it a light squeeze

“It’s okay I’ll be fine” I softly chuckled not wanting to worry the poor girl she seemed genuinely concerned

“That was a pathetic attempt at masking your emotions” the girl laughed catching me off guard

“I’m sorry I just don’t want anyone to worry about me I’m not the type that likes the attention,” I say as I lean against my headboard

“I understand and that’s completely okay but that won’t stop me from caring you are part of our crew after all so I’m going to treat you like everyone else,” the girl said as she gave me a gentle smile causing it to warm my heart

“Thank you,” I say my voice slightly cracking as I try to fight back tears

“Have you eaten anything?” the girl asked

“No I just haven’t had the stomach for it” I mumble

“Well then I’m going to make you something to eat” the girl happily said as she got up off my bed leaving the room in a flash

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

“Miss Scarlett your food is ready,” Bepo said loudly causing me to wake up from my nap

“I don’t want to leave the room can’t she bring it here” I mumble as I hide myself under my blankets

“Nope we can’t have you being in a slump for the rest of your life,” the Minc said as he pulled the blankets off me causing me to bend my body into a fetal position

“But it’s so cold,” I say trying to make up more excuses to not leave my room

“No need to worry about that I’ll keep you warm,” Bepo said as he carefully picked me up to cradle me against his fury chest

“Hey this actually isn’t so bad” I weakly mumbled against the polar bear trying to fight my sleepiness

“See everything is under control,” Bepo said as he left my room leading us to the dining room/kitchen

“From now on I’m your new best friend,” the polar bear said as he squeezed me tighter

“Fine by me as long as I get to cuddle you when I’m cold” I softly chuckled

“Fine by me Captain does it all the time,” Bepo said

“Wait really grumpy pants is a cuddly person” I asked shocked not being able to see the grumpy man all cuddled up with a giant polar bear

“Yep he might seem like a jerk but behind all that he’s just a normal person that does normal people things (sometimes)” the bear said

“Oh” I mumbled kinda feeling bad about judging the man that kindly took me in

“No hard feelings Scarlett I completely understand believe it or not that was everyone’s first impression we thought he was some grouch but turns out he’s the opposite” Bepo laughed as we entered the kitchen to be greeted by everyone but the captain

“About time you leave your room you vampire,” the guy with the penguin hat said as he sat next to Shachi

“Shut it Penguin before you regret it,” the girl said as she harshly glared at the man

“Yes ma’am I’m sorry ikkaku” Penguin flinched from her harsh tone

“Good,” the woman said that goes by the name Ikkaku

“Anyway I’m glad you agreed to leave your room” Ikkaku smiled at me

“I didn’t agree I was kinda forced to” I weakly chuckle as Bepo placed me on the ground

“Fine by me as long as you get some food in your stomach,” Ikkaku said as she slid a plate of food across the counter for me to grab

“Thank you” I smile as I take the plate of food

“Do you wanna eat with me?” Bepo asked from behind me

“Of course Bepo how could I say no” I slightly smile seeing that it made the polar bear happy

“I wonder how the captains going to feel about Scar taking his first mate” Shachi chuckles

“I think it’s nice to see Bepo hanging out with someone other than the captain,” Ikkaku said as she slid the boys their plates

“Can you all stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Bepo said as we awkwardly stood next to them

“Right my bad guys” Shachi laughed

“Come guys let’s eat up ikkaku didn’t make this delicious food for no reason,” Penguin said as he rubbed his hands together slightly licking his lips

“Eat up Scarlett I won’t eat until you eat,” Ikkaku said as she crossed her arms stubbornly

“I will don’t worry” I laugh taking a bite out of the food

“Oh wow ikkaku this is great” I hum as I take another bite of her food

“Why to thank you Scar I’m glad you like it,” the girl said as she gave me a smile

“I’m glad to see you happy Scarlett” Bepo said as placed one of his paws on top of my head

“Thanks for everything guys I needed this,” I say as my voice begins to crack as I fight back tears

“Of course Scar that’s what crewmates are for,” Ikkaku said

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

I’m currently standing outside on the deck of the Polar Tang after being locked up in a small space for hours I decided to give my lungs some fresh air

“Aren’t you supposed to be in your room moping” I hear a voice approach me seeing that it was my captain

“Trust me I would rather be doing that but Ikakku said she would kill me if I went back to bed” I laugh as I rest my chin in the palm of my hand leaning up against the railing

“Mhm” Law hummed as he stood next to me with his arms crossed over his chest

“I just want to make one thing clear Scarlett if you hurt any of my crew members mentally or physically I’ll make sure you regret it” Law grumbled as he leaned his back against the ship’s railing

“What's your deal with the threats you act like it’s supposed to scare me” I mumble into my palm slightly getting irritated with the man

“It’s not a threat if you mean it,” Law said as he looked me up and down

“Yea yea you don’t have to worry Traffy Laffy I wouldn’t dream of hurting them” I huff as I turn my full attention towards him

“Whether you like it or not we are eventually going to have to trust each other,” I say as I cross my arms over my chest

“You don’t think I know that” Law huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration

“Look I’m sorry that I kinda showed up unexpectedly and that old man Ray kind guilt triped you into letting me join your crew,” I say

“I really appreciate this Law I’m not really good at showing my appreciation but I’ll try my hardest to prove it,” I say looking the man in the eyes letting him know I was completely serious

“It’s fine no need for formality” Law huffed

“Get some shut-eye we have a big day tomorrow,” Law said as he began to walk away

“Oh and don’t ever call me Traffy Laffy again,” Law said as he came to a complete stop

“Yes sir Traffy Laffy” I mumbled under my breath

“I heard that” Law yelled back towards me as he walked away causing me to let out a giggle

Maybe Trafalgar Law isn’t that bad of a guy.

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I hope everyone enjoyed I’m sorry if my writing is horrible I’m trying to make this readable as possible 😭

{A/N look at this man y’all these fan-arts are to die for I swear ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) }

[autumngremlin]

CW: Pet loss, probably a lot of rambling. Just stuff I need to get off my chest even if its through a word vomit

Grief has always been a strange concept to me.

These last two to three days has been, for lack of a better phrase, like getting caught in an emotional hurricane. Every time I enter the eye, it's only a matter of time until I crumble and drown in my own tears again.

And trying to let go of those "I wish", "what if", "if only I just" because I already know he's at peace. My sweet baby boy. Well.. he's not a baby, per se. But damn it, I always treated that void like he is. Because he was my baby. I loved him to death since I was a little girl.

The night before I had woken up to him crying for me because he lost his balance and was having trouble, so I had gotten out of bed and righted him. I had a spike of anxiety and couldnt fall asleep for an hour after that. The only thing that gave me comfort was hearing him take a long drink of water and listening to him get comfortable in his bed. I never thought that would've taken him so much of his strength.

In the morning, I remember texting mom through my tears to check on him throughout the day. Then theres trying to get him upright multiple times so he could eat after I got him to take his medication, the desperation when he simply kept falling back onto his side and staring. I texted her again: "his breathing is labored."

My family left it up to me to ring the bell for each step of the process of putting him to sleep. Stepdad had stepped out. My boy lifted his head at the sound the first time, and I couldn't help but manage a laugh and still baby him for it. He's always been curious and nosy. Me, mom and my little brother gave him one last kiss on the head respectively after his passing was announced to us.

And almost immediately after we got home from saying our goodbyes, I got rid of almost everything of his amidst my tears, pausing in between to just sit and let myself cry. I remember Jack came into my space like usual to see how I'm doing, and how I physically felt his smile drop the moment he knew something was wrong. Very wrong. He carefully watched as I mourned and cleaned... maybe he did try to say something, tried to ground me somehow, but I couldn't pick it up. I was too deep already at the moment. And when I finally tried to tell him? "You don't need to say anything. I think I already know..."

I couldn't sleep without melatonin and something of his within reach that night. I woke up to Jack lying next to me and I barely remember the morning after aside from the feeling of depression and wanting to do everything possible to keep myself distracted and not count the hours it's been. The times I've intentionally busied myself, managed to laugh and joke with friends like I usually did is blurry. I got a reading from a pet medium, for closure and hearing from him one last time in this reality. She had confirmed that he is at peace and staying close to me.

Had I not been a permashifter, I probably would be handling this much worse than I am right now.

[strawberryfairi]

“I loved you then…back when I knew you”

Synopsis: 💎 When your old high school best friend, and admittedly, first love randomly shows up at your door one morning after a bit over ten years apart, your memories of him that you once locked away comes flooding back. Are you open to hearing him out after all this time? (In other words…will you take your man back or nah?)

♕Pairings: Kazutora X Black Fem Reader 🤎 🛑Content: 18+, Eventual smut, Some grief, Some angst ~Crossposted On: Wattpad ONLY ~Updating WEEKLY

w.c 3.4k💠

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CHAPTER 3: INTERROGATIONS

It's been an entire week now that Kazutora has made sure to show up to school, even though it was just to spend time with you.

About five days into walking you home from school, he decided to start showing up at your place early in the morning. It wasn't enough for him to only walk you back home from school now, as it didn't give him enough time with you. So from day five on he made sure to be at your place bright and early in the morning, and be out front of the school building afterwards to walk with you.

He'd taken a liking to you for sure, though he'd never admit that, hell no. To him, it was definitely just something that would highly likely pass after a while. He never imagined himself really ever being graced with a chance to get to know or hang out with any girls, especially not pretty ones, so to him you were like seeing a shooting star on a clear night. Another bonus is that you treat him and look at him like he's actually a person, unlike most people.

"Hey Kazutora!" You smiled as you walked out from your apartment building. It was becoming a routine of him always waiting out front for you. "Sorry I was a little late, I was strugglin' with my makeup." You chuckled nervously, joining his side on the sidewalk.

"Makeup, huh? I didn't know you wore any makeup." He furrowed his brows. Since when did you start wearing makeup? Was it to impress him?

"Oh yeah, I've been wearing makeup this whole time! But it's good you didn't notice, I like for it to look natural." You shrugged, whipping out your phone and turning the camera on to check if your blush and highlight was coming correct. Kazutora scanned your face openly, searching for the makeup you mentioned but he couldn't really tell. The only thing he knew you always wore was that pink, sparkly gloss that made your lips look irresistible each and every time without fail. Then right on cue, you pulled out that exact lip gloss from your tote bag, skillfully holding both the phone and gloss tube as your free hand applied it carefully.

He raised a curious brow as he watched you. "Tryna look pretty for someone?" Kazutora teased, yet he really just wanted to find out if there was another reason why you wore makeup to school. Did he have competition? Did you already like someone else? Was it for him?!

"No, I just like it. I honestly feel naked without my gloss." You shrugged.

He watched intently, savoring the way the gloss stick glided over your bottom lip slowly then the top as you spoke. Once you decided it was enough gloss, you put the stick back in the tube, blotting your lips together with a soft popping sound. It was odd the way such a normal looking thing made him feel something deep in his chest, like his heart just had a mini attack or something. His eyes stayed glued on your lips, thoughts of tasting that gloss on you with his own lips rang loudly in his mind.

"Oh, guess what? I thought of a nickname for you!" You beamed cutely, ripping him out of his thoughts.

"Oh yeah? Let's hear it." He mused.

"Ok well, I have two options. The first one is K, nice and simple, you know? But then the other-I really like it-is Kazi! What'chu think?"

Your eyes were sparkling like diamonds up at him, completely thrilled by your nickname ideas. He couldn't help the small chuckle he let out as you waited for his response. "I don't mind either one." He answered simply, giving you a nonchalant shrug. "Ok good! Oh, I also came up with a third, but I don't know, it might be kinda embarrassing." You started, your tone getting quieter and quieter as your confidence diminished. You hadn't planned on actually telling him the other nickname you made as you thought it might be too cheesy.

"Well now I wanna know. Tell me." He grinned, nudging your arm.

"Aahhh, fine. Just know as a disclaimer I came up with these nicknames late at night, ok?!"

He felt a shameful amount of pride that you spent time at night actually thinking about something like this...thinking about him. It made him wonder what else you might think about when it comes to him. "The last one I thought of was kitty, cause you have a tiger tattoo, and tigers are big cats..so...yeah." You trailed off, giggling shyly.

"Kitty? I feel like that nickname suits you better." He thought out loud, brows furrowing as he looked you over.

Your heart fluttered at the thought of him calling you kitty. It would be kinda cute since he's like a tiger and you guess you'd be like a little cat. "Ok, I mean, if you wanna call me that I wouldn't mind." You shrugged plainly, trying to act like you weren't all that excited about your new nickname.

He watched as your eyes immediately shifted down towards the ground, your fingers fiddling with each other. This is the perfect moment to mess with you, when you're already vulnerable.

He leaned down a bit towards you, brushing against your arm as he spoke. "I like your hair by the way. It's nice like that." He complimented, voice low and soft, the perfect pitch to make you melt for him.

And right on cue, your eyes widened, looking up at him for a moment before going straight back down towards the ground in embarrassment. You let out an uncharacteristically nervous giggle, making it obvious how much of an effect he had on you. He loved it. "Thanks. I tried something new." You murmured back softly, heart racing at the way he spoke to you.

This morning your hair didn't turn out quite how you wanted it so you decided to try an alternative from a full Afro, slicking down your bangs and leaving the rest out so it gave a headband effect. You were glad he liked it as it was a sign the look wasn't a flop.

Kazutora wanted to keep it going, he really liked the way you react to him. "Are you embarrassed?" He asked, his tone teasing and playful. Laughing lightly he wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer to him.

The proximity was making your brain malfunction.

"No!" You shot back, a bit too quickly, your bottom lip pouted slightly as your brows furrowed. "Just because your face isn't red doesn't mean I can't tell when you're embarrassed. You make it so obvious." He replied in a hushed voice by your ear, sending chills all the way down your spine.

"Whatever. Leave me alone." You mumbled, swatting his face away.

Kazutora smirked, satisfied with his flirtatious gestures for now. He was addicted to the effect he had on you. It didn't take long at all for him to learn just what to say and do to make you flustered.

Once you got to school you both parted ways in the hallway by your locker, but not without another one of Kazutora's promises to walk you home later.

Today seemed to be exceptionally eventful. You felt like you were under constant interrogation, even from your friends, every single time you were in the hallways or just before and after each class. By the time you made it to third period, you'd already memorized the cycle of questions folks would throw at you.

The questions of the day consisted of: ~ Are you and Hanemiya-san dating?! ~ Do you have a boyfriend?! I heard you have a boyfriend now! ~ Are you Hanemiya-san's girlfriend?! ~ Is Hanemiya-san your boyfriend?! I'm sooo jealous! ~ Is it true you're dating that third year delinquent?!

You hadn't even mentally prepared for lunch break. The cafeteria was absolute chaos!

While waiting in line you received a multitude of variation three of the list of interrogation questions. Some girl behind you in the line tapped your shoulder timidly.

"Excuse me? Is it true that you're Hane-

"No, I'm not his girlfriend." You answered with an exasperated sigh. You just wanted to order your food and go. The girl's eyes widened in surprise. Leaning closer towards you she says, "Really?! But, don't you guys walk together every-

"Look, I'm not his girlfriend, he's not my boyfriend, ok?!" You outburst, your hands animatedly supporting your frustration.

"Well sheesh. I was just gonna say you guys look cute together." The random girl mumbled under her breath, moving back from you to give you some space.

We do not look cute together....

You walk over and plop down into your chair dramatically, letting out another deep sigh before digging into your food. The girls all stared at you, waiting rather impatiently for you to speak or do anything.

"What? You guys wanna ask too?" You raised a brow, already knowing what was coming.

"Are you guys dating yet?!"

"He walks you to and from school like every damn day!"

"What's the deal with you guys?!

They all spoke at the same time.

"The deal is we aren't dating! It's been literally a week, guys! Everybody needs to calm down." You shook your head before taking a bite out of your meal.

"Calm down?! It's Hanemiya-san for God's sake! He never, ever walks any girls to school, let alone actually shows up! It's been a record breaking seven whole days, and we all know it's because he wants to see you! Like, we aren't stupid! All the girls are asking because they wanna know if the hottest guy at our school is taken or not!" Yumi ranted, panting at the end.

"What she said...precisely." Asuka nodded.

"I-...well you can let the records show that we are not dating. We just walk to and from school together as genuine friends, that's literally all it's been, I swear." You raised both hands in surrender.

"Yeah, that's all it's been for now! Next thing you know you'll be over each others houses!" Yumi beamed.

"Oh my god!" Hanako-chan slapped her hands over her rosy cheeks. "Imagine he goes over to your place...when your mom isn't home, and you two make out!" She gasped, her voice all extra exaggerated.

"And why would I imagine that, Hanako-chan?" You rolled your eyes, trying to downplay the embarrassment creeping up at that thought.

"Because it's exciting, and you'd definitely do it." Yumi smirked devilishly.

"No I would not." You state sternly, attempting to maintain your best deadpan even though your face was on fire.

"Right, sure, whatever you say." She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Well, we're all rooting for you. Bad boy x good girl trope for life!" Asuka cheered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been almost five weeks now since meeting Kazutora, yet it seemed like you were always discovering something new about him every single day. Nonetheless you considered him your friend, a good friend actually, as you two have gotten pretty close over this time.

Today's a Friday, the kickstart of the weekend, but it was boring. Extremely.utterly.boring!

Kazutora hadn't shown up at all today. He wasn't there this morning, didn't show up at all during school, and even right now wasn't here to walk you home. It was annoying getting so many teasing questions about if you missed your 'boyfriend' today.

At this point, wether it was true or not, you were officially Hanemiya's princess. The entire school now knew who you were from the bottom up. Nobody bothered to talk any kind of shit about you or try anything with you like they used to, only opting for lighthearted and playful teasing that always had to do with Kazutora, and even that was minimal.

You sighed, realizing you'd have to walk the majority of the way home by yourself today. Thankfully, you went and grabbed your headphones this morning when you realized Kazutora wasn't there, so now you had some music to listen to while you walked.

Once you got home, you went ahead and got straight to doing homework and laundry. You needed something to do and getting the chores outta the way seemed like a good start. You got comfortable, putting on a cute pajama set. It was a light blue shorts set, cute satin bows adorned the sides of the shorts and one in the center of your top under the bust area. You took out your contacts and replaced them with your black framed glasses.

Homework ended up being a breeze, just two math and Japanese literature assignments that took about an hour and some change in grand total to finish. Math took a majority of that time as it's not really your strong suit but you pulled through regardless.

You hadn't realized but at some point you fell asleep on your bed, your tote bag full of school supplies and binders abandoned next to your knees. You were abruptly woken up by the sound of something hitting against your window. You stirred, stretching as your eyes slowly adjusted to your rooms light. Again the tapping sound filled the room. You fixed your glasses on your face then stared at your window for a while, sitting up completely still on your bed, some nervousness forming at the pit of your stomach.

"What the hell....?" You whispered under tour breath, hesitantly creeping your way to your desk. You grabbed your scissors as a weapon and made your way to the window. Peaking from the curtains you checked out what was going on. It was pretty dark now, so it made it a bit hard to see, but you could make out someone standing outside your house.

"Oop-Kazutora?!" You said out loud, mouth dropping in shock. What is this fool doing?! Without thinking, you head out of the house, making your way down to your front door with your slippers on.

"Hey." He smiles once you finally opened the door to your apartment.

"What are you doing here? And why do you look a hot mess?!" You scrunched your face up in bewilderment at the state of him. He had some small cuts here and there, blood stains on his shirt and hands, and wildly messy hair. He gave you a cheeky smile.

"Can you help me out?" He asked softly, gazing over at you with innocent looking puppy eyes. "Really?" You purse your lips, looking him over like a disappointed mom. He pouts his bottom lip, folding his hands together like a prayer. Your eyes narrow at him, feeling your resolve break at how cute he looked even though he was very much looking like a bear attack survivor. "Get in here. You're lucky my mom isn't home yet." You grumbled, turning to head inside while holding the door open for him.

"You don't show up all day but then all of a sudden here you come lookin' crazy like a damn gremlin." You ranted softly, using some cotton balls with peroxide poured on it to cleanse his scrapes on his face and hands. You were sat next to him on the couch, your body turned towards him as you fix him up. "Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn't come today." He mumbled back.

Kazutora just now realized you were wearing glasses right now. Have you worn those around him before? He didn't know you couldn't see well. He liked the look though, to him, you looked like a hot librarian. You were so focused and concerned right now too, eyes looking intently and brows all furrowed while you gently dab the cotton ball on his left cheek bone. You're being so gentle with him, like he'll fall apart if you dab his face too hard, it was adorable.

Quite randomly, his eyes couldn't help themselves, dropping down to your lips ever so slightly parted. They had the nerve to still be all glossy, even though it seemed a bit faded. At this point he was sure you must not realize how attractive you really are. You damn sure don't act like it. Most girls with a gorgeous face and body like yours would be absolutely full of themselves. He honestly wouldn't blame you if you were cocky, you'd actually have a right to be.

"Yeah, I see. Clearly you had some...other things going on." You mumble blandly, gesturing with a lazy nod towards his bloodied hands. You kept your eyes focused on his small wounds, not bothering to look him in the eyes when you spoke. Oh wait, were you mad at him? Probably, seeing as he didn't let you know he wouldn't be at school today. He made a mental note that he should probably get your number.

He pouted for a second, before coming up with a way to get you to forgive him. "You know, you look really pretty with glasses-

"Aht aht! None of that trynna be cute stuff! I don't wanna hear it." You shook your head, tone stern.

"I'm not trynna be cute, I mean it." He smiled cutely, tilting his head to the side so his earring could make that little Christmas sounding noise.

"Mmmhm." You pursed your lips not buying any of it, standing up to go throw away the bloody cotton balls.

"I'm sorry, Kitty!" He called out after you cheekily. You stuttered in your walk over to the kitchen trash can, eyes wide as your heart fluttered. He hasn't called you kitty yet at all before now, you actually thought he'd forgotten about that nickname. You regained your composure, throwing out the cotton balls and making your way back over to him on the living room couch.

"So...you gonna be at school next week?" You ask softly while sitting down next to him.

"Maybe." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Do you want me to be at school next week?" He asked smugly.

"Do you want me to want you to be at school next week?" You shot back, a slight sassy undertone in your voice.

"Of course I do." He grinned cheekily.

"Hmph. Well it would be nice to walk together again." You admitted hesitantly.

Kazutora thought it was cute how you were talking about walking together again as if it wasn't just one day he missed. "Aaaw, did you miss me?" He teased, smiling wide.

"I mean, yeah! We always walk together so I was kinda lonely. I had my music though, but it's nicer walking with you." You admitted.

Something about the way you said that, the way you looked up at him, made his heart do that thing again. That mini heart attack moment where he feels completely out of breath for a split second. He didn't think you'd actually go and say you missed him, 'cause well honestly, nobody ever misses him. "I'll-..I'll be there." He assured you with a tone much softer than he intended. "Good." You answered, your voice subconsciously matching his. The both of you fell silent. Neither would ever admit it but each of you sat there in that moment getting lost in each others eyes. You felt entranced, like the world froze around you. It overwhelmed you, scared you.

"Umm anyways, you wanna watch a movie or something? You hungry?!" You asked abruptly, standing up and already making your way to the kitchen before he could even answer. You went to work, making a plate of leftovers from last night, which was pasta.

You both hung out for two hours after helping him with his wounds, watching a Netflix show on the couch until he had to leave.

It was a wild experience, sitting so close with him for that long. You didn't truly realize it until tonight that maybe you really did have a crush on him. Before you thought it was just simple physical attraction because he's gorgeous, everyone knows that, but the attraction only seems to get stronger from there. The more you get to know him the worse it gets for you.

You get so excited to see him that your heart starts racing every morning before walking together and after school. When he showed up at your place tonight it was like some dream come true. He even had no problem invading your personal space, keeping his leg and his arm against yours at all times while the show carried on, which did nothing but keep you on edge.

You've got a crush on Kazutora, a bad one.

You went to bed staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, your cheeks heated with embarrassment and mild anxiousness. "What am I gonna do? How do I hide it?!" You whispered to yourself. You didn't have not a single clue about Kazutora's feelings towards you. You were sure he didn't feel anything romantic towards you. He's one of those gang boys, he's probably used to girls falling for him all the time. He's also an obvious flirt, so it just makes it harder to tell.

You facepalm before calling it quits. The last thing you wanted to do was become one of those 'does he have feelings?' detectives. It always ends up in stress and looking stupid.

[allylikethecat]

would love to read your take on 6 and 12 of the prompts (with matty and george obviously lol)!! feel like you would write something super angsty and hurt/comfort-y (in the best way lol)

Hi There!

Thank you so much for sending in this prompt request! I was very excited to see it! I'm sorry it took me so long to get too, I hope you enjoy this fill and that it is the angst you were looking for! I combined the two, which is what I hope you had intended! Let me know what you think!

WARNINGS: Mayhem (the dog) dies in this one, which I am very sorry about. Hopefully IRL Mayhem is living his best life where ever that may be since it's clearly not with Matty anymore.

Thank you again for sending this in and being so kind and supportive! I've been having so much fun working on all these prompts, even if they have taken me longer than planned to finish (story of my life I guess...) Thank you again!

❤️Ally

6. Kiss…on a falling tear & 12. Kiss…in grief

Matty hadn’t moved since they returned from the veterinary clinic hours ago. He was curled on his side, his back to the door, only the top of his curls visible amongst the blankets, sobbing quietly as George’s heart broke. He had tried to follow him, tried to go to him and provide the comfort that he so desperately needed, but Matty just shook his head, retreating further into himself, eyes wet as he asked with shaky breath if he could be alone. 

George knew he needed to honor Matty’s request, he knew he needed to respect his wishes. He knew that Matty would come to him when he was ready. But Matty was like a balloon that had been popped, deflated with a bang, and left as a tattered piece of latex that had once been whole. Something that was once joyous, now in ruin. 

George busied himself instead. He knew Matty wouldn’t want to look at the reminders, he didn’t want to look at them himself. He washed and dried the bowls, wrapping them in old newspaper to keep them safe before stacking them carefully in a cardboard box. He added the toys, well chewed and well loved, the squeakers gone and little pieces of stuffing oozing from the tears in the fabric. The beds would be washed and then donated, along with the leftover food and treats. The leash and collar joined the box, George ran his finger over the engraving on the tag, remembering how excited Matty had been to show him that his name had been added too, that he was Mayhem’s other Dad. He blinked back his own tears and took his own shuddering breath. He needed to be strong for Matty. He needed to be there for Matty. 

He tapped up the box and brought it into the hall closet for storage. He didn’t want to look at it anymore. The house felt too quiet, too empty without the click clack of nails on the polished cement floors, without the deep sighs of contentment and the offbeat squeak, squeak, squeak of a chew toy, always whenever George was trying to focus on something time sensitive.

He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of tea, desperate for something to do with his hands, desperate for something to fill the quiet. He leaned against the counter, listening to the quiet hum of the kettle as the water heated, steam raising along the surface, looking for an escape. 

Matty hadn’t eaten yet today, he realized, ignoring that he hadn’t either, putting two pieces of bread into the toaster. He closed his eyes, waiting for the toaster to pop and the kettle to whistle, two mugs on the counter, each with a tea bag at the ready. He ran his fingers through his close cropped hair, exhaling slowly as he did so. It didn’t seem real, he thought hysterically. It didn’t seem real. It shouldn’t have been real.

Mayhem had been fine that morning when they woke up, Matty had let him out into the yard to do his business while George made coffee. The three of them would go for their neighborhood walk later that morning, once everyone was more awake. Mayhem had sprinted across the yard, chasing a butterfly with such unbridled joy that even certified, self proclaimed, not a morning person Matthew Timothy Healy couldn’t help but smile from his place leaning against the doorway. Then Mayhem had stopped, frozen, nose turned up to the sky. He spasmed and flopped onto his side while Matty shouted for George in panic. He was gone soon after, clutched in Matty’s arms in the lobby of the emergency clinic. A pulmonary embolism, most likely due to his size. There wasn’t anything they could do, there wasn’t anything Matty and George could have done.

Matty had cried the entire ride home, forehead pressed against the window while George drove, both hands on the wheel, ten and two, glancing over at Matty at every red light, wanted to reach out, wanting to touch, wanting to comfort, wanting to promise that everything will be okay, but knowing that would be a lie. 

The kettle whistled, and George startled, pulled from his thoughts as he took it off the burner, pouring the hot water over the tea bags, adding milk and sugar to Matty's, adding just milk to his. He had forgotten to push down the lever on the toaster, the bread sat untoasted, mocking him. They could go a little longer without food.

He carried the mugs into the bedroom, setting the mug carefully on Matty’s nightstand, before moving to his own side of the bed, blowing on his own mug to try and cool it, before taking a tentative sip. Matty either didn’t notice he was in the room, or didn’t care. George sat his own mug down on his nightstand, and reached out putting a hand on Matty’s shoulder over the blankets. He felt Matty flinched at the touch, shuddering with surprise. 

“I brought you a cup of tea,” George said softly. 

“I don’t want it,” Matty said, his voice like gravel, making George wince. They were meant to be in the studio tomorrow. 

“It will make you feel better love,” said George, running his hand down Matty’s back. He rolled over and looked up at George, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his cheeks shiny with tears, his face blotchy. He sniffled and George instinctually reached out with the sleeve of his tee shirt to wipe some of the snot from Matty’s face. He swatted his arm away. 

“Leave me alone,” Matty said, “nothing is going to make me feel better.” 

“Come here,” said George, tugging Matty into his arms, they were making progress, Matty didn’t fight him, just let his body be maneuvered. 

“I miss him,” said Matty with a hiccup, and he was crying again, tears falling silently down his face, his nose scrunched up as he tried to breathe, his breath coming out in short aborted gasps. 

“I do too,” said George, surprising himself with how wet his own voice sounded. He blinked and wondered when he had started crying as well. 

“I know,” said Matty, hiccuping, “that they said it wasn’t our fault, but I still feel like I did something wrong. It’s not fair, I love him so much.” 

“It doesn’t feel real,” said George, reaching up with the hand not wrapped around Matty to wipe at his own eyes. 

“I feel like there’s this gaping hole in my chest, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Matty said “It hurts so much.” 

“It will get easier,” said George, “It will hurt less every day.” 

“I know he was just a dog, but I feel like I lost my best friend,” Matty said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t want him to be gone.” 

George just squeezed Matty, pulling him closer, letting him listen to the steady beat of his heart, he didn’t know what to say. He wished he could take Matty’s pain, he wished he could shoulder it himself. 

“Do you think he’s in a better place?” Matty asked quietly, “or do you think that’s it, and he’s just gone?” 

“I think he’s always going to be in your heart,” said George, knowing it sounded cheesy, but unable to help himself. He knew Matty’s complex thoughts on religion, and he didn’t know how to assure him that regardless of where Mayhem was, or wasn’t, he hadn’t suffered. The veterinarian said it was nearly instant. 

He leaned down and kissed Matty’s cheek tasting the salt from a freshly fallen tear on his lips. Matty turned his head, catching George’s lips with his own. The kiss was chaste, a simple press of salty lips to salty lips, a comfort, a way of saying I’m here for you and you’re not alone.

“I love you,” said Matty, burying his face in George’s chest as if he could hide from his grief, wrapped in the warmth of the one he loved. 

“I love you too, always.” 

[sigyns-drafts]

um hii on your main i saw you're into mythical detective loki ? so i was wondering if i could request a little fic on freyr's feelings after founding out abt heimdalls death ! love your work :)

A/N: Hello, yes I am very much into mythical detective Loki! I don't usually write for it but I'll make an exception for you since the fandom deserves more attention! <3

Freyr's grief 💔

➩ After Heimdall's untimely demise when he had fought Loki, driven by anger towards him for his missing eye. When it had been in fact Odin who had stolen it. Loki was forced to bring back depressing news, especially to Freyr. The aftermath wasn't easy and the god now found himself seeking shelter at the detective agency.

➩ Reader type: none!

⚠: Includes spoilers for Mayura’s backstory and the plot of the Anime/Manga! Mourning a characters recent death, mention of a deceased mother, grieving friends.

In the dimly lit room of the detective agency, Freyr sat with a heavy heart, mourning the loss of his dear friend Heimdall.

It was a rainy day, so all their friends were staying inside to mourn together. It was a bittersweet moment for it to rain on such an occasion as this.

Freyr's dark blue eyes, usually gleaming with pride and determination to impress Mayura and protect his sister Freya, now reflected sorrow and emptiness.

Loki understood how Freyr must have felt after losing a fellow god, someone they both knew, despite his and Heimdall’s own complicated history.

Loki approached Freyr, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder causing the god to twitch and look up at Loki.

"Freyr, I know this loss weighs heavily on you, Heimdall was a good guy, a loyal friend. You're welcome to stay for as long as you need to recover from this.."

Freyr sighed deeply, his voice choked with emotion, he looked away from Loki's gaze. Seemingly embarrassed to be seen like this grieving state.

"Thank you Loki, I just can't bear the thought of him being gone. But how could he even have perished like that..?"

“All thanks to Odin's schemes..”

Suddenly Yamino and Mayura entered the room, the man holding a tray with tea and some treats.

He had gotten help from Mayura to open the door carefully so they wouldn't disturb the peace.

The two walked up to them, both hovering over the two as Yamino spoke softly, putting the tray down on the coffee table and feeling the need to share some comforting words.

"Loss is never easy my friend, I've brought you some tea and treats to eat when you feel like it.”

“Thank you Yamino..”

“And I brought a blanket, so that you can warm up and feel a little more comfortable. It's raining so much today!”

Said Mayura as she looks at Freyr's depressed state, frowning and feeling bad for him.

She puts the blanket around him while the god sniffs, trying to wipe his growing tears away.

Mayura knew what it was like losing someone, after all she had lost her mother at a very young age!

She looks at Loki and Yamino, as if she was asking for permission to speak.

The two men just nodded, like they had read her mind and the woman would take a deep breath to prepare herself.

“Hey, I can understand what you're going through..”

Freyr slowly looks up, confused about what Mayura was about to tell him, slightly worried on how she could understand such pain and grief.

“I personally always try my best to remember the memories me and my mother shared whenever I miss her. After all, they will always live on in your heart."

That was the last straw for Freyr. Seeing the girl he wanted to impress, to charm so much, be here for him and say such words, tell him how much she could relate to his situation.

It broke him! With tears glistening in his eyes, Freyr nodded gratefully and whimpered to himself.

“My beautiful Japanese flower, I didn't know you knew what it was like. Thank you, all of you!”

Freyr expressed with gratitude as he suddenly latched himself onto Mayura's waist, but she really didn't seem to mind.

Patting his back to comfort him as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“There there mystery thief, you're going to be alright~”

[amiterum]

"Princess?"

The back of Sain's knuckle knocks twice. Hers is a chamber akin to sacred ground: it houses a goddess, inside walls stained with glass, and sunlight petering onto flowers of holy ambrosia. It is a temple--of birds and love, and all sorts of pretty things--demanding the most of his respect. He'd bow his head, were the door made of more than humble wood. Still, rather than barge in of his own volition, Sain makes his presence known. He trusts that the sound of his voice would be enough of an identifier.

The knob turns. The knight enters.

"Ah... Your face. My love, did the simulation treat you harshly? I should have that monk's head, making a fair maiden put up with so much!" He's joking, mostly. A smile brighter than spring buds stretches over his cheeks, and a cheerful lift pushes his eyelids shut. Sain is the very picture of glee: a sensation no doubt brought about by seeing Priscilla's face. "You need not frown anymore, my dear. Your stalwart defender is here to mend your broken heart!"

Stepping closer, he takes her hand into his. Gentle fingers are treated like a newly hatched chick the way they are handled so delicately. Sain is sure not to tug on her wrist, nor stress her out with a grip too firm. Soft skin is smoothed by his own, and after a wink, brought to his lips to kiss. Once, to say he loves her. Twice to worship her beauty and grace. Thrice, for no manner of time nor space will ever keep them apart. She is the apple of his eye, capturing his heart with her song sweet as dove's.

"But... It is good to see you safe. I might wallow for a hundred years if forced to part with you again!" He parts with Priscilla's hand, but not without leaving it with a parting gift. A chamomile, freshly picked and with petals white as a cherub's wing, enters her grasp. It is the wordless way of saying I wish healing upon you, and I am here, should you falter.

He returns his hand to his side, but leaves a loop open for her to sling hers around.

"Do tell me if any part of you aches, though. I'll treat your wounds as tenderly as you treated mine."

She need only raise her voice loud enough to be heard through the door, for Sain required little more than an answer that wasn't no.

Not that his company is unwelcome. Hardly so, in fact. Quietly, Priscilla covets these things. In Etruria they had been allowed only in daydreams -- meant to be told only in a blushing maiden's whisper, hidden behind a carefully cupped hand.

The door closes behind him, and so Priscilla takes in the figure of her knight within the threshold of her room. Such is a thing she still has the instinct to savor, for the concept that their days together are not numbered is one that she has still yet grasped.

"That would hardly be necessary," she says with a soft shake of her head. Though, to his credit, the corners of her lips have quirked just so slightly.

He does not need to know how frequently she thought of him, then -- how the image of his lance or the singed corpse of his most beloved friend had filled her with enough grief to last a lifetime.

And as he approaches, stepping across the expanse of her room as though it is something greater than him, Priscilla feels butterflies flutter unbidden in her chest. Curse him, she thinks, unable to move from where she has perched at her windowsill.

It is with a care greater than she has perhaps ever seen that he handles her. Priscilla prays he does not notice how her hand trembles at the brush of his lips, that the warmth creeping up her neck has not reached her cheeks.

"I... yes, the feeling is mutual..." Fingers close around his own for a single heartbeat, holding them hostage just long enough to claim a moment of this affection as her own.

And when she lets go, when his touch is replaced with delicate ivory, Priscilla shuts her eyes.

"It would seem that, in your company, I have forgotten what ails me."

Princess rises, brushing wrinkles from the fabric of her skirt, and carefully threads her arm within his.

"Thank you, Sain..."

[starwrittenfates]

 ❣ For Ominis, Anne, and Harmony :)

SEND ME ❣ FOR 3 PROS & 3 CONS OF DATING MY MUSE!

PROS:

Affectionate: This boy doesn't care about things like blood status. If you find a way into his heart, he will treat you with such warmth and softness. He's honestly a pure cinnamon roll that's too good for this world. He's the type to shower his love with gifts and affection. He especially loves physical touch because of being blind.

Protective: He isn't afraid to fight for those he cares about. Don't underestimate him.

Emotional: Despite having a habit of hiding his emotions and being icy with others he doesn't know too well at first, Ominis is actually very emotional and caring and empathetic. He's for sure the type to be known talking about his love or caught kissing them in the hallways.

CONS:

His Family: Ominis would state this right off the bat (it's honestly the biggest one). Despite caring for his family, he knows how much of a problem they can be. After all, things have been tense between him and them since. And they are terrible about following tradition. It's not that they will stop him from being with someone else (especially if they aren't pure-blood), it's just the fact that things will not be easy being part of the Gaunt family. And he wouldn't want to bring any harm or danger.

Can be Jealous: I can see him getting jealous depending on certain circumstances. After all, it's perfectly human.

Repress Emotions sometimes: Despite being an emotional person, sometimes Ominis has that ability to hide his emotions away, not wanting to come off as a burden or worry someone.

PROS:

Affectionate: Just like Ominis, Anne doesn't care about blood status. She only cares about the person and would be that person going on dates and giving someone homemade gifts.

Playful: I can see Anne being especially playful. After all, she is the twin sister of Sebastian. She has a small little mischievous streak in her, but it's tame and mild compared to her brother. Her's mostly involve's playful wit and banter.

Will take care of you if you get sick: Knowing what it's like to have health problems and feel sick, Anne is assured with having knowledge of how to take care of her loves ones.

CONS:

Her brother (?): Depending on if Sebastian ends up in Azkaban or not, it's clear her brother is obviously a sensitive and painful topic for her. There's also that fact of Sebastian just being protective and I can honestly see him being that brother that carefully makes sure whoever is after his sister knows he will come after them if they hurt her. Oof...don't test it.

Her condition with the curse: Depending on if she's able to find a cure for it or not, this is an obvious one and it's sad. It just makes everything difficult, but grief is worse...

Can't think of a third one...

HARMONY GOODWATER (I haven't made a banner for her yet ^^'''):

PROS:

Loyal: As a Hufflepuff (and just the kind of person she is), Harmony is assured to be loyal to those who earn it. Once you earn her affections and friendship, she is determined to stick by your side. She will never be caught cheating and is very devoted.

Affectionate: With her naturally bubbly personality, Harmony isn't afraid of PDA. In fact, she often forgets that sometimes it's not welcomed by others. She's the type to hug a friend everytime she sees them and if she ends up dating someone, expect that to also involve kisses. She also holds hands and just enjoys being in their company.

Empathetic: She's a people person, but she's also very understanding and feels her (and others) emotions strongly. If you're hurting, she's hurting. If you're happy, she's also happy. It can be both a blessing and a curse.

CONS:

Stubborn: She can be very stubborn and reckless. Despite being a Hufflepuff, if it comes to protecting those she cares about, Harmony will do whatever it takes to keep them safe and stop whoever is causing harm. Even if it involves risking her own life. And when she is like this, it's hard for her to listen to others.

Overly Empathetic: Like I said, it's both a blessing and a curse.

Intense: She can come off this way to some at times mostly because of how passionate and devoted she is, but she proudly wears her heart of her sleeve and cares for others.

[di-daynamic]

@fluffbruary Bonus

Part 1 of 5

Prompt: Yearning

Telling stories of James and Lily was difficult.

Sirius could readily admit that to himself. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was Harry, and the fact that Harry had been denied this part of himself and his heritage for nearly six years now. So it didn’t matter that even saying his best friend’s name made him feel like he was seventeen again and drowning in sadness and memory.

What mattered was Harry sitting in front of him, Lily’s green eyes shining, wanting in a way he never was.

Getting Harry to tell anyone he wanted something was a bigger task than killing Voldemort. He had been so obviously scarred by the Dursleys in so many ways – but the biggest way, in Sirius’ opinion, was just how insignificant he considered himself.

Remus had told him to be patient, and Sirius wasn’t an idiot. He’d known he had to be.

And Harry had blossomed. He was still cautious, still careful not to ever openly state he wanted something, but he’d grown into the confident young man before him, who smiled freely while looking into his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Sirius, really,” he was saying.

“You have Hedwig?” Sirius fussed anyway. “And the emergency portkey? And the snack bag? And you’re sure Susan is bringing Bambi?”

“Dad!” Harry laughed, and Sirius felt his heart skip a beat, like at every time Harry called him that. It wasn’t often – only casually emotional moments, but Sirius still loved it, he still treasured every time.

“Do you think my parents are haunting us?” Harry’d asked one day, and Sirius hadn’t been able to breathe for a moment through the pain and the memories, knowing his godson wasn’t asking about actual ghosts - that discussion, painful as it had been, had already taken place.

“I think—” he’d started carefully, knowing he was, for all that he was only twenty-nine and fresh out of Azkaban, one of the only true guides and grown-ups in Harry’s life, “That we can never know that for certain. But if you’re asking if that’s a bad thing, I don’t think it is.”

“Why?” Harry had frowned, swinging his legs, “Muggles always talk about ‘haunting’ like it’s a bad thing.”

Sirius had had many years to contemplate the intricacies of grief and how ephemeral life was, but he didn’t know how to express that other than through wildness - sex, alcohol, cigarettes and recklessness. “I don’t think it can be as obvious as good or bad,” he told the quiet boy finally. “But – we carry their love, their memories along with us on our own lives. And if they’re there, they not only see the bad stuff, but they see the good, they see the best.”

He hoped James and Lily hadn’t seen how their boy had been treated by his so-called blood family. He yearned to know if they thought he was doing a good job raising him.

At least he knew James would’ve never had a problem with Sirius taking on the mantle of ‘dad’. James had always, always wanted the people he loved to be happy, and nothing more or less. As long as both Sirius and Harry were happy, he would’ve been fine with it.

God, and Merlin, and everyone, he yearned for James.

“—eleven years old now. I’m all grown up!” Harry was saying importantly.

Sirius smiled and ruffled his hair. “You sure are, bud. Can’t blame an old man for being cautious, though, can you?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I know I call you old, Sirius, but you’re only thirty-one. That’s, like, youth for wizards.” He paused. “Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Whatever. You’ll take care of Sanju, won’t you?”

“Mooncalves don’t really need caretaking, but yes, you know I will.” Sirius dragged Harry into another hug, telling himself not to cry. Harry wasn’t even on the Express yet, and Sirius already yearned for it to be Christmas.

This type of yearning, though, was much better than others.

“Be careful, okay?” He added quietly. “You know that there are other Noble Houses’ heirs in your year – many children of suspected Death Eaters.”

“I know,” Harry his beloved hooligan of a child was replaced by Harry the rising political and business star for a moment. “I’ll introduce myself to those I haven’t met before. I’ll try to find out the lay of the land before the vote.”

“Don’t forget to have fun, though. Explore the castle. Fly. Make some new friends.  Bask in first-year lessons, they get very hard soon. Just don’t challenge anyone to duels before you’ve gotten used to your wand. Don’t sneak out after curfew alone without telling anyone – someone should always know where you are.”

“I will, promise.” He hesitated, and then in a whisper so faint Sirius could barely catch it, “You’ll write?”

Sirius swallowed, wanting all over again to find and murder the Dursleys. “Of course. Are you kidding? And I want return letters from you at least three times a week. I don’t care what you put in them. Tell me what Ron has been eating, for all I care.”

Harry smirked. “That’d take three parchments at least.” 

The ten-minute warning whistle rang out. Sirius’ heart clenched as he hugged his godson one last time. “I love you, Harry.”

“Love you too, Sirius.” Harry blinked up at him as though he were about to cry. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, but just wait for it. At Christmas, you’ll be begging me to let you stay.”

Harry laughed. “I know I’ll love Hogwarts, but I promise, nothing will make me want to stay there when I can come home.”

Sirius swallowed. It was all he had yearned for, back in the first hard days when Harry had been so wary and so cold, when trust between them had seemed a hopeless thing. For Harry to consider his place home, and for him to be the kind of child James had been and Sirius and Remus had not: who loved Hogwarts, but never preferred it to their own home.

“Go find Ron, Susan and Neville,” he said. “Leave me to my maudlin musings.”

Harry clicked his tongue. “You are going out with Moony and the Weasleys tonight, right? No musing by yourself?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Harry!” They heard Ron’s voice, and turned to see the ginger boy waving enthusiastically through a window next to a hastily backing away Neville. “C’mon, mate! You’ll miss the train!”

“Coming!” Harry called back, and he turned, grinning brightly, to his godfather. “Bye, Sirius!”

“Bye, Harry.” He said softly, watching him climb onto the train, run to his friends’ compartment and collapse on the seat next to Susan, who was trying to get Bambi to behave. The haughty half-kneazle jumped onto its owner’s lap with a loud purr, and he could see Susan throw her hands up in exasperation.

“Sirius!” He heard Arthur call, and turned.

“Hey, Arthur,” he said. “Boys all aboard?” Ginny gave a sniff, peeking out from behind her father’s legs. “Don’t worry, Ginny, the year’ll fly by and you’ll be the one going to Hogwarts soon enough.”

The girl smiled weakly. “I hope so.”

“Are you okay, Sirius?” Arthur asked in an undertone. “The first time can be hard.”

He watched his godson squabble with his friends, punching Susan on the arm as he laughed. So different from the boy he’d been four years ago, when Sirius had first taken him in.

There would be dangers, he knew that, but he’d equipped Harry to the best of his ability to face them. He knew his godson would not shy away from adventure.

He was, after all, his parents’ son.

The train began to chug and move forward, thick smoke pouring out, and Ginny ran beside it, waving frantically to her brothers with tears running down her face.                                                                        

“Fred, get in the train properly! Ginny, come straight back!” He heard Molly scream, and laughed as he waved to Harry, who pressed his face to the window, grinning and waving back, jostling for a place there with Ron and Susan, who were also waving.

“I reckon we’ll be fine,” he replied to Arthur, feeling the yearning and yet the peace he’d made with it wrap around his heart.

[gatheryourpearls]

Okay, Boo. This is it. This will be my final entry to you in this home...your last home we shared together. We have scoured every inch of this place and stalled so we can stay here longer, as though we were hoping that if we just waited a little longer you might just come through the door...like a child, we wait. Sat on the floor of the Master in complete silence...a silence so loud, that those who have been touched by grief can only understand.

We love you, my sweet boy. We love and miss you so much. I can't even fathom how much greater my grief, and love, if I had known you your whole life. But,...you knew. You knew it would only take a little while for me to fall in love with you.

This was our last home with you completing our little unit. Now, it's just four walls, barren with any belongings or personal remnants. But we lay here still. Because this little apartment now serves as the proxy to you. We think, foolishly, that if we just maintained access to this place, we'd have access to you. Where you last yin-yang'd with your sister...where you last did a good "stand" for a treat. Where we last celebrated your birthday.... where you chose the "vote" cupcake just for me...

We will miss you always and think of you often. I can't count the times that I sat in my office chair crying in silence as I cried out to you, professing how much I missed you. This will be the last time I'll see the space where I would carefully get out of the bed so as to not step on you...even though you had already passed and in your place was a collection of empty cushion mats.

This is it. We love you so much...and I know you know that. I hope that God let's an angel convey this message to you. That we love you, will never forget you, and will try our best to live fully... until we see you again.

I'll keep writing you, as long as it's helpful. I hope you're living fully, uninhibited by pain or us. I hope you run zoomies around God's couch.

Thank you for being a great --just THE BEST--older brother to Luna. She misses you too. Can you let us know you're okay and doing well?

We hope you enjoyed this first home... and that you remember it as fondly as we do. I'm trying so hard not to forget the details...so I recorded the funny moments....and the last moments with you. It was hard to film.

But I know and believe you are always with us.. that you're not attached to any physical place. Just as it's always been, your place has always been next to us.

I love you sweet Boo.

Why does closing this chapter feel so hard? So bittersweet? So unequivocally final?

Funny thing is... the finality of it all is no longer up for debate....but it was easy to pretend when nothing else changed. Being never able to walk these grounds again is so... heart wrenching that it can send me into a spiral. It's like trying to tighten your grip around water....it's fighting a losing battle.

Also...as an aside... did you ever know pawps and my full name? I wonder what you did know about us....

Remember when you visited me at grad school with pawps? We left you in the rest room while we went out and I'm so sorry for that. There were so many dog friendly places, we should have taken you. You were the best dog too! We had nothing to worry about.

As you can see...I'm stalling again.. I fear that if I end this post I'll lose you all over again.....so I keep writing...

But all i really need to say is simple: I love you, Boomer. I'll miss you always. You will always be my little boy. I'm sorry for all the times I've lost my temper. I'm sorry we held on longer than was comfortable for you. Thank you for loving Luna and immediately seeing her as one of your own. I'm sorry we didn't trust your instincts sooner.

I can't believe you're gone....I can't believe this is it. The day has come. We will be turning in the keys tomorrow...and then our new chapter starts. I promise we will find ways to incorporate you while also respecting your passing.

I love love love you, Boo. I always have, since that first snack....since that first collar... since that first ridiculous coat I got you. I love you.

This is not a goodbye because I know you're with us and will cheering us on, pain free and happy.

I love you sweet boy.

You are so smart, you are so kind, you are so handsome. Sending kisses and cuddles to heaven.

Here's the last picture of your tree...the one that saw us through the joy of having you and the grief of losing you.

[multi-fandomedfreak]

╭──╯Not

Enough╰──╮

: ̗̀➛ Authors note: Sooo this is a drabble based on a fic I want to write but I’m still debating whether or not to write the full thing. Also first time writing in 1st person :P

: ̗̀➛ Pairing: Worf x reader (?)

: ̗̀➛ Description: Reader is human and raised by a Klingon family. Coming from two entirely different cultures can be…difficult.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Angst. Mentions of death. Mentions of blood.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•-

Tears, huh?

That’s not right. Klingons don’t cry. Especially not for the dead. We avenge them. We honor their legacy. We certainly do not cry for them.

But I am not Klingon.

The tears that forcefully make their way out of my eyes are a cruel reminder of that.

The uncontrollable screams and sobs that rip through my throat feel like adding alcohol to an open wound.

An angry, red, blistering wound.

How can this be fair? What could I have possibly done to deserve this?

My parents. Their voices. Their soothingly malicious voices. They have echoed through my head since I was 7. The only reason I lived was thanks to my parents.

My Klingon parents. Who took me in, raised me as their own, and not once treated me like I was any less than them. If I didn’t look human, I would’ve never guessed I was anything other than Klingon.

But now they’re gone. An accident. A malfunction. They just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. No Klingon deserves to go out like that.

Despite my sobbing. Despite the deep pain and grief that I felt to my very core. Anger was the only feeling I could express. I could hardly feel the glass cutting my skin as my fists made contact with my glass table.

What did the table ever do to deserve that?

My punches slowly became sloppy. Uncoordinated. I was too tired to keep going. Kneeled down on the ground, all I had the energy for was to cry.

Another reminder I was human. As if the Klingons back home didn’t remind me enough. I thought I could find my place here. In Starfleet. But even now I am too Klingon for other humans. Yet too human for Worf.

…Worf…

…

I’m being selfish.

I’m crying because people don’t accept me. I’m crying because my parents died. Instead of honoring their deaths, instead of fighting to change what others think of me and my family, instead of accepting the fact that Worf doesn’t see me in that way…I am crying. And taking my anger out on things that don’t deserve it. I’m pathetic. I’m weak…

I am without honor.

…

I didn’t realize I was clutching a shard of glass in my hand. A strong but gentle hand carefully took it from my grasp. I snapped my head up to see who it was.

My cheeks grew red with shame. Anger.

I expected anyone but him.

Why did it have to be him?

Thank the stars it was him.

His gaze was unreadable. All I knew was that he was taking in my appearance. And still holding my hand. His warm but rough hands cradled my bloody, shaky ones.

Tears began to fall once more.

Why did he have to see me like this? He already thinks I am weak. Doesn’t he? I am human after all. Not Klingon. So why is it so hard to be human? Why can’t I just be normal? Why why why wh-…

My face is buried in a shirt. Behind that shirt is a chest. Worf’s chest. He wrapped his arms around my torso and pulled me into his chest. A hug. Worf was hugging me.

His arms…are so firm. He’s so warm. I couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. I closed my eyes and attempted to take deep breaths. My shaky, bloody arms managed to wrap around him in return despite the pain. I have never seen him so gentle. It was probably a struggle for him and yet…there he was. So gentle.

We didn’t talk during the hug. We didn’t talk when he wiped the tears off my face. Not a word spoken as he gazed into my eyes, both my mind and heart racing at the sheer emotion behind them now.

We didn’t talk as picked me up from the ground and took me to Sickbay. Yet, I knew everything would be okay.

Not perfect.

But okay.

[somedayistodayoth]

stoplightsandravens​:

LOGAN

i will find the strength to un-tape my mouth when i used to be afraid of the words || Barbara and Logan

✖

I need space.

Barbara cast her eyes to the faded rug beneath her feet; and when the tears came, hot and endless, they were for them. For the transition of an attachment she felt was impermeable just five minutes before. For conflict to enter between them without the decency to knock first. All he was asking for was time, not to never see her again, yet her chest ached as if he had. The grief surged with every expelled breath, threatening to crest the longer they stood in silence. For once, insufficiently soothed by inhales of his scent in her space. 

“Okay,” of course she would agree. She’d do anything for him, even in detriment to her own happiness. Even if every iota of her being wailed to comfort him. She reminded herself that broken hearted was not a destination, but rather a difficult road that sometimes appears at their feet. She’d walked it before. Their soles were sure to feel the pain from the change in terrain, but they’d emerge stronger in the end. Though her silent tears blurred her vision, she made a point to carefully catalogue his features. A sort of mental snapshot that would pale in comparison do his actual presence but would hopefully tide her over.

And then, she wiped the tear stains from her cheeks and smiled at him. One that read of reassurance, even though it didn’t reach her eyes. One that spoke of acceptance of his needs, even if it pained her to comply. One that said she’d give him all the time he needed and would be here waiting for him whenever he was ready. And one that said, I love you no matter what.

“This girl you like, she’s lucky,” she hummed, her eyes welling up again with tears that she strained to hold back until he was gone. “You’ll treat her well, so well,” though her voice wavered slightly on the lisp of her sorrow, she needed him to know that. Because Barbara knew how he could get into his thoughts. “I’ll look forward to meeting her.”

Logan hated seeing her cry. He hated knowing he was the cause of her trauma.  Tucking his palms into his jean pockets, he shuffled on his feet and buried the urge to reach out to her; to comfort and soothe her. His intention had never been to create distance between them. What had it been? At this point, he had no idea what outcome he’d expected. No idea what the true reason for all of this was, but he refused to taste regret. He refused to back down from his declarations and all they meant. 

Maybe in another lifetime, they would’ve been a them. A them with a dog and house with a white picket fence. A them where he hung the moon in her sky. A them with the most perfect love story ever known to storytelling. An emptiness entered his chest cavity at the mere musings. 

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he eyed her features closely. Memorizing every emotion that flashed across her angelic and beautiful face.  First, it had been grief, then a brief flicker of solace, and finally acquiescence. That pained him the most. The idea that her acceptance came without much fight wrecked havoc internally. This had to be what hell felt like. Her easy acceptance created such finality that his hands began a soft tremble, and his heart began to bleed. Watching her, he deduced it was best to stay quiet. To think. 

After a minute stretched into three, he began moving, his feet carrying him to where she stood. Stopping a few centimeters away from her, he could feel the heat radiating from her frame, calling to him as it always had. “Barbara,” he whispered, one of his large hands coming up to curl around her cheek lovingly.  There were so many times in the past where he should’ve been honest. He should’ve told her. The what-if’s now blurring his mind without hinderance. The opportunity had been there. But fear had trapped him in place. Fear had turned him into a coward. He wondered now if they could’ve had a chance all those years ago. Could they have become an us, a we? Could they... “Do you-” His thumb brushed the underside of her eye, his gaze never faltering. Always unwavering, always seeing, observing, considering. That was Logan. 

Suddenly, want replaced the emptiness in his chest. Want that crippled any rational thought he might’ve had. He should step back, walk away. It was evident she didn’t want him, but he couldn’t stop himself. His mind filled with endless possibilities. Raising his other hand, he framed her face and gazed down at her with such adoration it would’ve made any sane person weep. His vision consisted only of her, his chest filled with her, his body heavy with her. What was he even doing? It was uncontrollable, this want. Just once, he thought. This would change nothing, another voice tacked on. But nothing could stop him. It was like someone else had taken control of his body. 

Lowering his head, his eyes gazed into hers. Just once. Just once. Just once. Just once. The scent of her, one that he could identify in his sleep permeated his senses. Saturated his lungs like the oxygen he needed to survive. Without another thought, he dropped his lips to hers. His eyelashes flickering downwards, his mind empty. There was nothing. Only her. 

Just once. 

[rendevousz]

mum?

mother figure!nat x fem!teen!reader

avengers x reader

req by @teenwonder ; i absolutely love the entire teams adoration for reader skfksngnsf its so cute! could i please request one a little more nat based? maybe r treats and loves nat like a mom but nat hadn’t noticed that before, and the whole team is like listing examples of how and why 🥺🥺🥺

summary: the four times you needed nat and the one time she admits that she needed you too.

warnings: blood, a random attack out of nowhere because i'm not creative, inaccurate writing of medical situations because i have no idea how those things work, also let's just pretend bruce was around during iron man 2 when tony still had palladium in his arc reactor, also inaccurate descriptions of palladium effects bcs i just...don't know much about palladium pls forgive me thanks, and idk any hospitals in new york/manhattan or even the states LMAO so uh bear with this, and last but not least, my inability to write good endings

word count: 5426

notes: that's a long ass warning nevertheless pls do enjoy this fic <3

"i'm going now, bye!" you bid the team who were having breakfast together, walking out of the common area.

"bye, cupcake! don't get into trouble, don't do what i'd do and definitely don't do what i wouldn't do." tony advised and you rolled your eyes because tony says that to you every morning before you leave for school.

"wait, don't forget your lunch!" nat stands up from her seat and grabs your lunch that she had packed, from the kitchen island, bringing it over to you. "thanks, nat!" you grabbed it, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.

nat smiles at the action, turning around to walk back to her spot on the table, only to find the team staring back at her with knowing looks.

"what?"

"you know, you only need to sign a couple papers and the kid's all yours." tony states matter-of-factly. nat snaps her head towards the man, an incredulous look on her face. "what are you talking about?"

"we all see the longing looks on both your faces. she's dying for you to call her your daughter and you, her mother." clint explains and the others nodded in agreement.

"that's nonsense. she has wanda too," nat reasons, sitting back down. "i'm pretty sure she sees wanda as a sister considering how much she drags wanda with her whenever she's causing trouble around the tower." steve raises his brows at the redhead who was in denial.

"she sees you as her mother, nat. just accept it," wanda tells her, taking a sip from her glass. "really? name me one time she showed it." nat challenges them, not knowing that they've been watching your interactions with her for the longest time.

"you have no idea what you just got yourself into, romanoff," clint chuckles, cracking his neck and knuckles as if preparing for a fight.

"remember new mexico?" he smirks and nat only frowns, trying to remember.

i.

"no!" you screamed, dropping down to the ground. you didn't care that you scraped your knees doing that, the only thing that mattered was the overwhelming feeling of grief engulfing your whole being. tears streamed down your face as you looked at the debris on the ground, the remainder of what used to be standing in front of you; a building. blown up, now in ruins.

clint, bucky and steve watched you break down in front of them, their hearts breaking at the sight in front of them as well as the fact that their teammate had been caught up in the middle of the explosion.

"y/n/n? come on, tony's team called for back up. we gotta go," steve tried to get you to stand up, failing when you kept your ground. you screamed when he tried again and their hearts clenched at the heartbreaking sound.

"we can't just leave her! please, we have to find her," you cried, clinging onto steve's body as he ran his hand up and down your suit-cladded back to soothe you. "y/n/n, we can't. the whole place is in ruins now," he didn't want to say it but he had to. he had to in order to get you to leave. "she's gone."

"she can't be gone! she can't just leave us! we need her! i need her, stevie.." you cried into his chest and he had to control himself so he didn't cry right then and there too.

he looked up to see bucky looking at the two of you guiltily, tapping his wrist to indicate that they were running out of time. steve had no choice but to carry you in his arms, getting you to leave the site against your will. but you were too weak to fight back now. "what am i gonna do without her now, stevie?" you asked quietly.

"we're gonna be okay, y/n/n," he tells you, sitting you down on a chair and settling down next to you as clint flew the jet to your next location. the atmosphere was tense and you could tell everyone, too, was sad about this.

"what if we're not? what if we're not gonna be okay, stevie? i know i won't be." you wiped the tears streaming down your face despite the fact that your face still wasn't drying up any time soon.

"because nat wouldn't want to see us like this. she'll be angry if she sees that we're risking people's lives just because of her." he says truthfully.

"we're landing, guys." clint announces and the team prepared for another round of fighting. steve turns to you, wiping the tears on your face as he made you look up at him. "now let's save some people and make nat proud, yeah?"

you nod at him sadly, preparing your weapons. all of you got out the jet and the second battle of the day begun. boy, were these people unlucky because they were on the receiving end of your fury.

you were busy taking down a group of guards alone when you heard a familiar voice. "y/n, behind you!" and you turned just in time to take down a guard who was aiming at you.

you didn't even have time to register your shock of seeing the redhead because more guards came at you two. you guys fought alongside each other until all the men were taken down.

"nat?" you breathed out. "yes, bub?" she answers as you both carefully walked over the knocked out men. she was taken aback when you slammed into her, hugging her the tightest you ever did since you met her.

"please don't ever do that again." you mumbled into her chest. she was about to ask you what you meant when she heard you sniffling. figuring out it wasn't the appropriate moment to ask, she continued to just hug and comfort you in silence.

"wait, that was why she cried that day? because she thought i was in that building when it blew up?" nat asks after steve finished the story. "i never found out why because she never told me."

"yeah, you should've seen her when the building exploded. completely shattered my heart, dude." clint states, remembering the broken down state you were in that day.

"wait, did you guys not grief over my supposed death then?" nat glares at clint, bucky and steve. "in our defense, they were about to blow up about a hundred people, we didn't have much time to process the whole situation." clint tries to convince his best friend, only to receive a glare again from her.

"alright but just because she cried when she thought i was dead, doesn't mean she sees me as her mum. i'd cry too if any one of you guys died," she states, still in denial.

she did love you like how a mother would love her child. but she didn't want you to feel that she was forcing the title onto you. after all, you had so many other adults around you, who's to say that you saw someone else as a parent figure instead of her? she didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"woman, are you serious?" sam exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. "need i remind you that the girl sacrificed her life for you?"

ii.

"nat, watch out!" you stood right behind her where the man was about to attack her. you gave him a harsh kick to the head and that was all it took for the man to go unconscious.

the redhead turned around, not having enough time to comprehend what had happened before you dropped into her arms. you two were lucky the last of the men had already been taken out.

"bub? what's wrong?"

at this point, you were fully leaning against her. she was holding up your whole weight, hands wrapped around your middle to support you. that was when she felt it. the familiar thick substance on her fingers, leaking from the back of your suit.

her eyes widened, pulling one hand away from you to look at it. red. her breathing picked up as one of her hands felt around your back, finally feeling the handle of a knife sticking out from your back.

your eyes were already drooping by now and she lightly shook you awake, careful to not hurt you. she lowered you down and you were both sat on the floor now.

she presses a finger to her ear and you could hear her voice echo in your ear from your own comms. "can someone come please," she paused, exhaling shakily. "y/n's down."

if it had been any other person, she probably would be bringing them to the jet by now but it was you. she didn't know what came over her but when she saw that you were injured, it was like her whole body shut down. her knees felt weak and she couldn't bring herself to move.

"hey, hey, keep your eyes open. can you do that?" she asked gently and you nodded weakly. "bub, why did you do that?" she cried softly, moving your hair away from your face as you leaned sideways against her. the action caused your face to be smudged by your own blood from her hands but she didn't care as she caressed your cheek.

"he–he was gonna hurt you. i–i couldn't..." you paused a while, the pain getting too much for you to bear. "y/n, don't strain yourself. you need to stay awake," she tells you as tears streamed down her face.

"rather me than you," you whispered. nat's eyes widened at this. "don't say that, bub." she scolds gently.

you smiled weakly at her. "i've grown too dependent on you, nat. it's to the point that i," you coughed and nat worried that you were straining yourself but you continued. "that i'd rather die than live without you. you probably can go on with life without me but i can't without you. i need you, nat." your eyes closed and nat panics, shaking your body.

"y/n?! bub?! stay awake, please, they're coming!" nat cries out loud, holding onto your limp body.

"did we not agree to not mention that to me anymore?" nat glares at sam for bringing that up.

the night of that incident had been one of the worst nights for nat. she sat by your bed all night after you had been treated. she had been the first one you saw after you woke up. she had been the one you broke down in front of after you admitted the full reasoning behind your actions. she had been the one who opened her arms for you to make yourself at home in.

"i'm sorry but you must be blind if you can't see how really she sees you for the past years," bucky states. nat turns to him with a glare. "you don't know what you're talking about."

"oh really? who does she call whenever she has a really bad nightmare?" bucky questions rhetorically with his eyebrows raised.

iii.

"no, please, don't!" you begged, asleep and thrashing around in your bed. quiet whimpers turned into heavy breathing as you plead for your life in your nightmare. "please," you whispered, inhaling and exhaling harshly.

FRIDAY, noticing the amount of distress you were in, alerted the closest person to your room, that being bucky who was returning from a late night trip to the kitchen for some water.

he quickly went into your room, only to see you shivering and thrashing around in your bed. "doll?" he approaches slowly, finding you still asleep, though sweating a lot. nightmare, he realised.

"doll? wake up," he gently shakes you and you immediately jolt awake, breathing heavily as you register what was going on. "it's okay, it was just a nightmare," he soothes you, holding you close as one hand rubbed up and down your back while the other held your head to his chest.

none of that helped as you were still in the same state as you were when you woke up. "are you okay?" he asks, worried. "nat... i need nat.. please i need her," you whimpered, shaking in his hold. you were having trouble breathing.

"FRIDAY, get romanoff."

within minutes, nat arrived, looking panicked and disheveled like she had just woken up, which she just did. "what's wrong?" she asks bucky, approaching you two.

"she was having a nightmare and woke up and i think she's having a panic attack. she asked for you," he informs her and immediately moves away when she approaches, so that she could take his place.

"bub? it's me," you look up to meet natasha's pretty green eyes. "you're okay, bub. can you tell me five thing you can see?"

you looked away from her eyes, looking around your room. "i–i see my book on my nightstand, my lamp, my jacket on the chair, my laptop and the painting on the wall." you told her after some difficulties.

"good, that's good. four things you can feel?"

"i feel the socks on my feet, my fluffy blanket, the pillow i'm leaning on and your hands around me."

she smiles softly at you. "three things you can hear?"

"i hear your voice. a–and the faint noise from the ac and i can also hear bucky's breathing." you look up at the man and he smiles sheepishly at you, standing around awkwardly. you gave him a small smile back.

"two things you can smell?"

"i can smell my own shampoo..and my room's air freshener." you told her more calmly now, feeling the panic attack already going away.

"one thing you want to taste?"

"i wanna taste wanda's blueberry pancakes." you pout and the two adults couldn't help but chuckle. "you can have them in the morning. right now you need to sleep so you can have the energy to devour them tomorrow, okay?" you nod at the woman as she tucks you in.

not long after, you fell asleep. she then presses a kiss to your forehead before leaving with a less worried bucky now. and sure enough, the next morning, wanda made you blueberry pancakes.

"okay, so what? we all need someone to help us through panic attacks?" nat rolls her eyes. "did you miss the part where i came in and tried to help but she specifically asked for you? she needed you, nat."

"guys, i... i love her with my whole heart but she has all of us. i don't wanna make her feel like she's restricted to only one of us. you all love her too," nat reasons.

"yes but she doesn't have anyone to call her mum and frankly, i think you'd be perfect for it." wanda encourages the older woman.

"i—" before she could continue, her phone rang loudly and she thanked whoever it was that called her because now she didn't have to make up excuses about her doubt of becoming your official mother.

iv.

she looks down at the caller id, sighing when it was you, meaning the team had more against her now. of course she didn't mind you calling her, you could call her when she'd be asleep after a mission and she'd still pick up with a smile on her face. but it was the fact that the whole team could see how she softened when she realised it was you who called that bothered her. she really didn't want them to let her have hopes that you'd accept her as your mother.

"bub?" she said into the phone and half the team smirked at her while the other half gave her knowing smiles. "aren't you supposed to be on your way to school?"

"yeah but uh are you busy right now? i um, i need you."

nat immediately stands up, worry etched onto her face and the team frowned at this. "what happened? are you okay?"

"you know how i told happy i wanted to walk to school today? yeah, i just remembered why i don't walk to school anymore."

"what do you mean? what happened? are you hurt? did someone hurt you?" she bombards you with questions out of worry. at this point, the team had also stopped their chatter and teasing looks, equally worried for your well-being.

"yeah, i am. wait, maybe not. i mean, i was just being dramatic but uh, i tripped on who-knows-what and now i have a sprained ankle. i can't walk now so i'm standing in an alley right now so i'm not in the way of people. can you come get me?"

nat sighs in relief, thankful that it wasn't anything that she was thinking of. "you are unbelievable, y/n." she chuckles in disbelief at your clumsiness. "can you tell me where you are? i'll come get you now. i'll have the school know you're not coming today." you told her your location and she immediately leaves after telling the team what happened to you.

you were expecting nat to call again, to tell you she was around the corner but instead you heard a whoosh of air beside your head, followed by a crack sound. your head followed the sound, eyes widening when you saw that a dart had struck the wall beside your head. you looked ahead, trying to see where that came from.

if it hadn't been for your fast reflexes being an avenger for the past few years, you probably wouldn't have ducked in time when another dart came flying right for your head. "what the hell?" you grunted, staying low but still looking around for the source. you squinted when you looked up, the sun blazing but you managed to catch a glimpse of a man on a rooftop nearby. he had blonde hair and was dressed in all black, donning a same coloured mask that covered the bottom half of his face.

"you had one job! how could you miss her twice?!" the blonde hears his colleague hiss in his ear through the earpiece. "i'm sorry! i'm no hawkeye, how was i supposed to get her in one try?!" he scolds back.

"you didn't even get her in two!"

"shut up and just let me work! you're distracting me!"

"hurry because i see the redheaded one nearing the alley. boss'll kill us if he finds out we didn't get her in her vulnerable state."

"i'm trying, i'm trying!" the blonde closes one eye, his sight now locked on your crouched state. he saw you move once you saw him and he cursed under his breath, his weapon following your movements. "she's moving!"

"just take the shot and be done with it! you have to go now!"

and shoot he did. after he shot the dart gun, he immediately fled but it wasn't like you were going to be able to chase him down or anything. a scream left your lips as a dart pierced through your skin, right under your shoulder.

you dropped down to the ground, right in the middle of the alleyway. you cried when you felt the burn in your flesh. you had been stabbed multiple times before with much bigger objects so why did this feel different?

"y/n?! is that you?!" you heard nat's voice yell from a small distance away. "i'm here," you croaked out, feeling your body grow weaker at an alarming rate.

"oh my god, bub, why are you on the ground? it's dirty, c'mon let's get you up. which foot did you sprain?" she places both her hands under your arms, pulling you up on your feet before accidentally dropping you back when you let out a shriek, crying out in pain.

"oh my god, did i hit your ankle? are you okay?" nat assumed that your tear-stained face was because of your sprained ankle but then you wheezed, your eyes drooping the longer she stood there.

your right hand slowly reached across your left shoulder, the butt of the dart sticking out of your skin now in between your shaking fingers. nat's eyes followed your hand movement's, a gasp leaving her lips.

"y/n, what happened?!" she panicked but before she could even get an answer from you, you had already blacked out. her eyes widened, knowing it was the dart because why else would you pass out that quick from a simple penetration in the shoulder. you had dealt with much worse than that and she knew your tolerance level.

she took off your bag, careful to not move the dart. she then placed her hands under your knees and behind your back, easily picking your unconscious body up and rushing back to the tower.

when she arrived, she was met with many confused yet concerned looks from the tower staff, seeing the black widow, rushing in with the youngest avenger unconscious in her arms. they had seen you leave the tower for school about half an hour ago so they knew something must've happened on the way.

"get bruce in the hospital wing. tell him it's urgent." she tells the woman working the front desk, hurrying into the elevator and telling FRIDAY to get her to the floor she so desperately wanted to arrive at quicker. black lines appeared on the left side of your neck, slowly spreading to the right side and she assumed it was from that damned dart in your left shoulder.

"natasha! what's wrong? they said it was an emergency," the doctor spoke in a panicked voice when nat entered, immediately going quiet when he saw you in her arms, neck lined with seemingly black veins.

nat laid you down on the surgery table, frown growing when black lines steadily spread to your arms now. though she was too worried to think, she managed to at least tell bruce what was outwardly wrong with you.

"dart. left shoulder." she blurted, incapable of forming proper sentences now that she had seen more of you. the black lining your skin got her speechless and anxious. bruce got ready with medical gloves, removing the dart from your flesh before analysing the pattern of your skin. it looked familiar.

"FRIDAY, get tony down here. it's urgent."

"bruce, please, what's wrong with her?" she cried, tears now freely streaming down her face. she didn't cry much in front of anyone but when it came to you, you always managed to get her to do just that.

"hey, what's going on? FRIDAY said there was an emergency here, who's hurt?" nat heard tony's panicked voice but she didn't make an effort to reply. her gaze was fixed on only you.

tony's jaw dropped, frowning when he saw you on the bed, upper body covered in black lines. "what the hell happened?!"

tony stepped beside bruce, taking a closer look at your skin. his frown deepened. "wait, it looks like.."

"yeah, looks exactly like when you had palladium instead of vibranium in your arc reactor."

"does that mean—"

"palladium's been running through her veins for about twenty minutes now. FRIDAY, how high is her blood toxicity level?" bruce asks, sampling a drop of your blood from when he took out the dart.

"53% and it is still steadily increasing."

"tony, at the rate it's going, if she's not treated in the next fifteen minutes or so, she'll.." bruce pauses, not wanting to say it out loud.

"no, she just needs lithium dioxide. that's how fury and i cured your palladium poisoning, tony." nat finally speaks.

"SHIELD probably has them but they're all the way in dc. they're not gonna reach here in time," tony states solemnly, reaching over to move your hair out of your face, looking down at you sadly.

but he was immediately pulled aside, nat grabbing his collar and looking him straight in the eyes. "you have your stupid iron suits that can probably travel faster than the speed of sound if you try. you can go down there yourself and get the damn thing. i swear to god, tony, i'm literally going to destroy those stupid suits myself if you don't put them to good use." nat threatens, glaring at the billionaire.

tony's eyes widened, the genius having not thought about nat's idea yet. "yeah, yeah, you're right, i'll go now."

he left immediately and nat approached your bed hesitantly, not wanting to see the black lines making home on the skin on your upper body. "do you think tony'll make it back in time?" she sniffles and bruce's worried frown on his face softened. "of course he will. he won't let anything happen to y/n. we won't let anything happen to y/n." he assured her.

there was nothing they could do now but wait for tony to come back with the lithium dioxide. nat sat beside your bed, hands gingerly grasping one of your own. despite the black staining it, nat held it to her face and her tears rolled past the back of your hand.

bruce decided to give her some privacy, opting to inform the whole team of the situation instead of standing around idly.

nat pulled your hand away from her face, rubbing her thumb over the back of it, crying even more at the sight in front of her. "y/n, please. i've never told you this but i need you." she pauses, breathing in shakily. "i've always needed you and i'll always need you. you can't leave me, please. you said i could go on with life without you but you're so wrong, y/n. you're the reason i'm still here and you're the reason i still want to be here. if you're not here then it's as if i have no reason, no purpose. i need you, y/n. so much more than i'd like to admit. heck, probably much more than you need me. so please, don't leave me. i can't do this without you." nat sobs out, watching the patterns on your skin spreading and growing bolder.

at this point, the whole team had now gathered outside of the room, watching nat cry over you. they wanted so bad to get a closer look at their beloved baby avenger but they respected nat and instead, waited for her to finish talking to you. once she stood up and looked around, bruce knew she was done so he entered, followed by the team.

"status, FRIDAY?" bruce asks, sampling a bit of your blood again. "blood toxicity at 96% now."

the team looked your unconscious body in apprehension, some crying and some worried out of their minds.

"goddamnit! where the hell is stark?!" nat growled. her eyes were now puffy after having spent the last half an hour crying. the team had never seen her lose her cool like this but they figured why.

as if on cue, tony's iron man suit crashed through the windows of the room but he couldn't care less. his main priority was to get to you quickly. in his hand was a silver briefcase that he passed to bruce.

bruce opened the case before wasting no time in plunging the syringe containing lithium dioxide, your supposed cure, into you. immediately, the black patterns on your skin started disappearing. it was slow but noticeable. it started from the tips of your fingers, going up towards your neck.

everyone sighed in relief, and to tony's surprise, nat hugged him tightly. "thank you. you have no idea how much this means to me." she whispers. tony pats her back gently. "hey, i care about her too, okay? of course i'd do this for her. any one of us would."

nat smiles at him when she let him go, turning back to you and almost crying out in joy when your skin had finally turned back to normal. she let the medical assistants set your bed up and handle your sprained ankle before going back to sit by you. the team left her alone with you once again.

it was only about an hour later did you wake up, squinting when bright lights shone down on you. you moved around but you felt hands around your left and you heard a familiar voice.

"and remember when you dragged wanda to pull that prank on me with you and after you did, i grounded you like i was your mum or something?" you hear her chuckle, still not noticing that you've woken up.

"i didn't mind, though. frankly, i don't think i would ever mind if you continued acting like my mother or something," you spoke and she immediately tore her gaze from your hands, looking at you, now wide awake.

"bub!" she hugs you so tightly you didn't think you could breathe. you still returned the hug though, laughing. "i was worried you might still have some palladium in your bloodstream."

"wait, palladium?" you asked her in shock. "yeah, the dart that got you in that alley, it contained palladium. it's highly toxic so we used lithium dioxide to counter it. speaking of the dart, i'm going to find out who did this to you and they're never going to see the light of day for putting us through all of this." nat says, disturbingly calm.

"yeah...you do that," you tell her, slightly scared. "but palladium? in my blood? how cool is that? i had literal metal in my blood! i could've become like tony but like...palladium woman or something." you said excitedly.

"you do know we already have metal in our blood, right bub?" nat questions in amusement. "oh." you say dumbly. "and palladium don't belong in our body and you literally almost died because of it." your mouth opened but no words came out.

"speaking of, can you please not do that again? i really thought i was gonna lose you." she whispers, stroking your hair. "oh yeah, of course. i'll just announce to the whole world to not target the youngest avenger," you joke, smile dropping when nat gave you a stern look.

"nat, being part of the avengers at my age undoubtedly means i'll be a target for the bad people out there, but i don't care because while i get to kick ass, i know all of you have my back when it's my ass that's kicked. and i think that's the best part of being an avenger; the sense of security i get having you amazing people as my teammates." you tell her honestly and she smiles softly.

"oh come here you," she pulls you in for another hug but this time it's better because you could still breathe. you make yourself comfortable, snuggling into her.

"did you mean it?" she asked and you look up at her in confusion. "mean what?"

"when you said you wouldn't mind me acting like your mother."

"of course i do, you're like the mother i never had. i wouldn't even mind you being my actual mother." you say without a second thought, eyes widening when you realised what you had said. you swore under your breath, knowing you've just made it awkward between you two.

"i– really?" despite the teams efforts to make her see the truth, it was much more meaningful when she heard you say it yourself. "y–yeah.." you admit sheepishly.

"then you wouldn't mind if i actually adopted you?" she asks carefully, gauging your reaction. your jaw dropped, eyes going wide once again. "are you serious?!"

"yeah." she smiles at you fondly. "no! of course i won't mind!" you hug her tightly, tears forming in your eyes. you had gone all your life without parents so this was a huge thing for you. not only were you going to finally have a mother, but the most amazing woman you knew was going to be your mother.

"mum?" you tested the title, smiling when she acknowledged it. you were now crying in joy.

"hey, don't cry." she soothes you, running a hand up and down your back. "no, no, i'm just so happy. this is the best day of my life." you tell her. "me too, bub."

you stayed in her arms until you fell back asleep, nat tucking you in before going back to sit down on the chair. she looked down at you fondly.

sure, she was scared of the big step she was about to take with you but she had you with her and she knew that was enough. "i love you, y/n." she whispers, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg @andreasworlsboring101 @cay-writes-fan-fiction514 @teenwonder @sevenmorningstars @fleurlovesbucky

[thebreathofthewild]

i very much prefer the story of breath of the wild to the alternate timeline we got in age of calamity. not because i’m a timeline purist, i don’t really care much whether it splits off or not, but what DOES matter to me in a story (next to the plot itself) is mainly characterization, relationships and theme.

my main issue with age of calamity’s story isn’t just what they changed... it’s what they DIDN’T change, which then didn’t fit with the new stuff they’d written.

breath of the wild’s story is, in my mind, far from perfect, but it has a consistent, vibe, flow, and a character arc for princess zelda that i believe. more than an individual arc, it’s also a relationship arc with link. the development of that relationship is a key driver of the plot.

in age of calamity... despite reaching the same conclusion - that zelda saves link, her love for him activates her power - that development is absent.

i rewatched all the memories from botw and its like. bro. age of calamity can't even begin to compare. their relationship in botw has an arc.

every scene they're in together serves a purpose to establish a new relationship status or milestone. zelda goes through a Bunch of emotions about link: first quiet resentment, then Louder resentment at how he’s doing better at his role than she is at hers, then full-on ANGY, then admiration, mixed with guilt and regret for having lashed out that way to someone who would save her anyway...

from then, she humbly tries to be nicer through tending link’s wounds. she allows herself to be more playful and goof off with him, then Actually Opens Up about her insecurities - displaying true vulnerability when they're caught in the rain together. we know from zelda’s diary that link also shares his own troubles with her, and that she was trying to get him to open up was well. 

then, zelda’s excitingly sharing more hobbies (ancient tech) and hoping that maybe, just maybe, her research can substitute her lack of powers. in the same scene, link gets to witness a true relationship milestone: a parent yelling at your friend/gf in front of you. then zelda shows Even More vulnerability as she has a meltdown about her fears & insecurities at the spring of power in front of him (knowing he's there & not afraid to show him). at this point, she even allows herself to be angry at her dad, instead of solely blaming herself. 

then she gains further appreciation for link teaching her how to handle horses (and says she’s trying to be a bit more empathetic to the horse, as a metaphor for her being nicer to link and more selfless in general), sharing her faint hope for mt lanayru...  then that hope is crushed, and zelda decides to stay by link’s side (instead of urbosa hiding her) regardless of danger.

the calamity strikes. they flee together - which leads to zelda having a total beakdown, as the others die and link’s the only one she has left. the mix of guilt, despair and grief becomes too much, so she leans on him, both physically and emotionally, and he is always there to comfort her. 

THEN, finally, zelda has reached a point of loving link enough to be able to save his life, knowing he will do the same someday. which he does, and in the epilogue, she acknowledges both the pain of the past and how (because him remembering her is what unlocks this ending) he is a big part of the reason why she can accept herself now, even with her power fading & her role fulfilled.

that's an ARC, baby! 

i have my problems with botw as an overall narrative (especially its muddled messaging on whether zelda should be forced to have this traditional role), but i cannot fault how carefully they built the zelink relationship step-by-step without taking shortcuts. in these brief snippets, you see just enough to understand how zelda went from almost hating link to truly loving him.

by contrast... here’s the AoC zelink arc, despite having 3x the cutscene runtime: zelda feels quietly insecure, but doesn’t take it out on link. link saves her, as a bodyguard is supposed to. they exchange glances. they don’t talk / bond. link saves zelda again. they exchange glances. they don’t talk / bond... they flee together. then she saves link out of “love.”

that’s it. that’s literally it. 

AoC-zelink go from two (2) Meaningful Glances to zelda activating her powers, because of a bodyguard she has not spent one real second bonding with. 

link saving zelda was a turning point for their relationship in botw, yes - but here’s the key difference: it was a starting point, not the end destination. it made zelda re-evaluate how she saw link, because she was a dick to him first. THAT prompts her to try to understand someone who was kind and selfless despite how poorly she treated him. which leads to many scenes of them bonding more.

so, hot take: the real, original sin here which almost all of these issues grow from, is that they didn’t let zelda be flawed in age of calamity. 

because age of calamity-zelda was never a jerk to link, she has no reason to go out of her way to be nicer and get to know him when he saves her anyway. that’s just standard bodyguard stuff, and that’s all it’s allowed to be. they don’t share private moments of vulnerability. they don’t share at all, really.

because of this, their relationship - which became its own, organic thing in botw - is never allowed to grow. it stays knight & princess without any real flavor to it. 

i think this could be avoided if age of calamity-zelda was as strong of a character as botw-zelda was. neither is like, a literary masterpiece, but there’s a clear contrast. both are insecure and want to stop ganon, but... that’s all AoC-zelda is allowed to be, until she’s suddenly a Perfect Badass Goddess with no personality other than shouting “for hyrule!”

botw zelda didn’t just have that central insecurity. she has hobbies, she goofs off, she gets angry at people, she starts out with a huge inferiority complex towards link. she can be selfish and rebellious and clearly likes research more for its own sake than its ability to stop the calamity. she becomes nicer over time and more compassionate (unlike age of calamity, which treats it as given that she was always “boundlessly” compassionate), but that’s where she got because link was nice to her, not where she started out. 

and all of this fits into theme. age of calamity is a power fantasy in a notoriously over-the-top warriors franchise. its all about self-empowerment and looking good while kicking ass. breath of the wild is about exploration, slowly piecing together what happened 100 years ago and moving past grief into hope for the future.

i’ll put it this way - botw zelda had an arc to become a better person. aoc zelda only ever became a more powerful person.

[thenovelartist]

ABC Fluff Headcanons - Vyn Richter - Tears of Themis

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

If this was a fairytale, it would be Beauty and the Beast. Except he was simply the Beast and you were his magic rose he got to watch bloom. But instead of watching you under glass, he preferred it to be removed, even if it shredded your innocence in the process, but oh, watching you grow anyways, both blooming beautifully while growing fierce thorns to warn anyone before they touch, just to spite the adversity you were faced with was his truest pleasure. Your fortitude; that was what he truly admired about you.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

You’d think it’s your eyes, being the windows to the soul and all. But you’d be wrong; it’s your hands. Specifically, your tender touch. It’s gentle, warm, and safe. Being able to hold your hand feels intimate for him, and he actually enjoys when you tap his arm to get his attention, then let your hand linger when he gives it. It’s like a reward and a comfort all in one.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He does enjoy a good cuddle, but hugging you from behind might be his favorite. Whether sitting together on the couch with you on his lap or spooning you in bed, he likes when he can nuzzle the side of your head or rest his chin on your shoulder.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He will have planned this to a T because he’s not much for spontaneity. And it would involve a walk together, flowers, and he will either have made you a dessert or the two of you will make something together. It’s something quiet and intimate for you to enjoy time together, talking about anything and nothing while the date is riddled with affectionate touches and some kisses.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Good grief, this man’s emotions are… complicated. He’s very logical, but he’s not ignorant to his emotions. It doesn’t seem like it, but he frequently tempers them, only to bring them up again in full when he records his diary so that he’s able to manage them.

But you have ruined him. His carefully kept emotional balance has been thrown to the wind. You make him feel intensely and strongly, to the point it almost trumps his logic, which makes him uncomfortable. His diaries have been getting longer as his inner turmoil increases, and that’s all your fault. It’s something you notice, too, watching his even temperament waver more and more frequently around you as the emotion inside him wars with his rationality. You will have to give this man time. Time to open up and be honest with himself, and you, about his emotions. Be prepared to validate his emotions in his moments of weakness. It’s the only way he’ll get better about honestly expressing them to you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He wouldn’t be opposed to staying childless. He also wouldn’t be opposed to having a child, and you could probably talk him into two if the first goes well. Little humans would be fascinating studies, after all. (“Dear, do not psycho-analyze the children.”)

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He does not care for trinkets. Nor does he care about giving you them. Gifts should be practical.

At least… that’s what he likes to think. His one exception to this is when he gives you something to wear. It’s his way of marking you and wearing it will spark a possessive streak in him.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He likes—no, needs to be either touching or holding your hand in quiet, private moments. And he wants to hold your hand when he’s jealous. Especially when he’s jealous. And you know when he is because he holds tight as though reminding you that you’re his while also sending passive-aggressive signals to the cause of his jealousy. When you’re just out walking, he will sometimes hold your hand, but he also likes when you loop your hands over his elbow and he can escort you like a proper gentleman. (It also causes you to pull yourself in close to him, so he actually quite enjoys when you do that.)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Depends. Minor cuts or burns are treated with care and, occasionally, a kiss. Get into an accident, and he gets shockingly worried about you. However, if you end up hurt because of a reason to do with NXX, he’ll be sick with emotions. Guilt, fear, anger; all of them brew for a deadly concoction. He will not rest, even to the point of abusing his own body, until he finds the person who hurt you and sees to it they are paying dearly for their crime.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

He doesn’t always joke around, but when he does… this man is a wicked tease. Don’t expect to get off the hook easily. You better learn how to tease back, or he’ll use words and puzzles to twist you exactly where he wants you, which normally is you as a blushing, stuttering mess.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Sweet kisses off-the-cuff are quite nice, and so are the passionate ones, but the ones he likes best are the slow, lingering ones that take place hidden away in your own world. They convey so much with no words. There’s no frantic holding or clinginess. Rather, it feels like a moment of security, coming together and staying. He likes the comfort they provide him and the way they actually settle his heart.

L = Love Confession (how do they confess?)

He actually was super nervous to confess. He’ll have practiced and planned this confession before it happens. Which you never would have guessed because it was in such a smooth conversation during one of your outings that he admitted he held feelings of a romantic nature for you.

M = Marriage (What does the wedding look like?)

He wants it small, intimate, and preferably outdoors in a garden. He wants it nice but not overly fancy. He won’t fuss over the smaller details. Besides, he doesn’t realize it yet, but he will barely remember anything beyond how utterly stunning you look in your wedding dress, anyway.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He hates being a failure, but if he’s everput in a position where he fails you, he will never forgive himself.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

This man has literal decks of cards of only one kind of card. You want a 52 card deck with all ace of hearts? He has that. Ten of spades? He has that too. Four of clubs? Yup. You don’t know why he has them, and he won’t tell you, but you think it’s literally just because he’s highly amused the way you wrack your brain over it.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He’s classic. Love, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart. But he’s half-German (At least, that is my best speculation considering he was called “Vilhelm” and is canonly mixed-race), so “Liebling” is also an endearment he calls you, and my guess is he saves that one strictly for the sweetest, most tender moments you share.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Calm setting, electronics put away, and preferably some form of physical contact with you. This could be working together in the garden, side by side, or going out to walk around town together, but those are not his favorite. Baking with you is one of his top ones, though. Expect him to tap some sort of batter or frosting on your nose. His other favorite is lounging together on the couch, your back leaning against his chest, and just talking. Communication is important to any relationship, and he finds it a joy to communicate with you.

R = Romance (how do they show their love and affection?)

He’s the kind that shows his affection by giving you his time and attention. He’ll show it in the little touches exchanged back and forth and in the way he’s attentive to your well-being, particularly your mental well-being.

He’ll also show he loves you by playing mind games on you until you’re a blushy, stuttering mess. He’s usually forgiven with a kiss and “I love you”. You know you’re too soft on him, but whattcha gonna do?

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He is an onion you have to peel back layer by layer to get to open up to you. And like an onion, there’s likely going to be some tears shed as you do that. Time will determine how many secrets he’s willing to share with you, and it’s likely going to take years for him to fully open up to you. But keep at it. You will be rewarded with his innermost thoughts and feelings and the discovery of how insecure this seemingly unflappable man is.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

This man doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but falling hard and fast for you? That he did. One of his biggest hurdles he had to get over was logically evaluating his feelings and what he thought your feelings for him were as well as coming to terms with the way he’s been treated in past relationships (And not just romantic ones. He has an… interesting way of creating carefully crafted ties to people.) So it might take a little time for him to get comfortable enough to ask you out. And throughout the relationship, he’ll probably still be working with his past demons, so be prepared for that.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He’ll comfort you the best way he can if you’re a sad upset. A mad upset, and he’ll probably give you a little space to work yourself out while offering his guidance. And upset at him? This is where a good chunk of your arguments happen, to be honest. So then you both have to calm down before coming together again and talking it out. But you always do and are stronger for it.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’ll never admit it, but he loveswhen he can leave you impressed. It thrills him if he can show off a trick or his general intelligence and have you praise him for it. Occasionally, he’ll search for ways to impress you just because he wants that attention. But never will he admit it.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Well…he’s all okay with fighting as long as it’s not physical fighting. If you’re going to verbally spar with someone, he’s more than happy to let you go, and he takes pride in the fact you usually wipe the floor with your opponent. But the moment it’s going to turn into a physical altercation, he’s your shield. Part of him thinks that in times he is unfortunately not around, it might be good to have some self-defense under your belt, but at the same time, he’d rather you just flee instead of fight. Because he knows you well enough that if you had the ability, you’d probably knock someone’s lights out if they came at you.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

He’s a psychologist; he can already read you well. But on top of that, you are his favorite study, and he will catalogue everything he learns about you away to pull out for future reference. So while he already reads you well early on into your relationship, give it a few years and you have basically no secrets from this man.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

He will never forget the “surprise over romance” opinion on proposals you shared with him. So, determined to give you the best, he sets up an elaborate puzzle for you, getting all the important people in your life to get in on it. Together, the two of you will trapeze the town hunting down little clues—in places, that you only realize later, hold significance to both of you—before he’ll “conveniently” take his leave so you can finish out the last leg, which ultimately ends up leading you to his office, the place you first met. And there he is, sitting behind a house of cards sits made solely from the Ace of Hearts with a ring in the middle of the top tier which was made from two different cards: the king and queen. Only once you realize that and he revels in your joy and tears will he properly get on one knee and ask you to marry him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

When everything is “right” in his world. His patients are doing well, he’s got no massive cases on his plate, nothing requires his immediate attention, and you are close by, doing well in your own right.