#like they do their taxes. they know how the world works. they will not lose their shit over the first fan drama they see.

[myriadparacosm]

Sitcom AU - 1. The one with the bride

wolfstar; jegulus; dorlene; panryly; rosekiller

"What I mean is that it's not right."

"Isn't that kind of homophobic?"

Marlene scowls at Pandora, who quickly pinches her lips together with a coy look, making Remus chuckles in his cup of tea.

"No, no, hear her out," Sirius cuts.

"Two male penguins?!"

"Still can't believe you didn't hear about that before," Peter mentions, stirring his new cup of coffee.

"They got an egg too?! When they have been trying to steal one but they get a reward instead?!"

"That was one solution to stop that behaviour," Remus sagely comments.

"If I did that, I wouldn't be given a child!"

"You don't want one, Marl'."

"Thank God for that too— ouch! Fuck! I'm on your side!"

"Just accept that penguins have more rizz than you," Mary says before ducking at the pillow. "Hey!"

The waitress clears her throat from behind the couch and Marlene smiles toothily at her to lose it as quickly when facing them again.

"As if you have any."

"Shouldn't we be happy that gay penguins are accepted and loved? Especially if they raised a little baby!"

"I believe, their chick was also a lesbian," Remus comments

"Their child too?!" Marlene exclaims in shock. "What is going on in this world?!"

"I could present you someone if you are that desperate," Pandora gently offers. "I have this co-"

"I don't need help!"

Sirius grimaces with a nod. "You do."

"Like you are any better, slag."

"I'm on your side!" He argues with a waving hand that she slaps away. "Cunt!"

"On her side against— queer penguins?" Peter wonders.

"I just can't bloody believe it."

"Sometimes, I wish I was a penguin," Remus mutters and pauses at all the eyes jumping on him. "Erm."

"And you call me desperate."

"You literally have a feud with penguins now?" Mary points out.

Sirius laughs before looking up just in time for James to walk in Hogwarts. Marlene sighs, not bothering to glance since these two always predict whenever their other half is around.

"Hi James!" Pandora greets.

"Hey," he grins even if it's a tad sadder than usual while he puts his wet umbrella against the rack already full. "Whatcha talking about?" He asks, sitting down next to Sirius who scooted over and immediately puts his arm on his shoulders.

"Marlene discovered animals can be queer," Peter explains. "And wants to fight a couple of penguins."

James laughs, turning to her. "But that's so cute!"

She scowls at him. "They have it so easy while we have to bloody pay taxes and they got a marriage and child for free, how is that right?!"

Mary leans toward James. "She got a bad date last night and-" she shrieks at the kick in her back, getting her face smashed in the couch's bottom. Marlene cackles evily just as Mary rounds on her. "You better not have used your shoes on my new shirt!"

The waitress pays them no mind, used to their antics, as she nods at James' order before walking behind the counter.

"Knee."

"You're such a cunt. Don't come whine to me about pain from your trainings because I'm never massaging you again."

"You alright, Prongs?" Peter asks. "Where is Lily?"

He shrugs. "I'm alright. She had work to do so," he says and smiles at Sirius who squeezes him with his arm. "I'm really fine. Just a bit bummed out."

Remus offers a supportive smile, leaning out of his armchair to pat his knee. "You're still friends."

James sighs and takes the cuppa from the waitress' hands with a polite smile. "I know… It's just that I kind of hoped her- us, to be it."

"It's her loss, mate," Sirius says with a startle at Remus' slap on his arm. "What?! It's the truth!"

"Lily is our friend too," he retorts with a pointed look but Sirius only rolls his eyes.

"At least it ended well."

"It might be awkward for some time but everything will be fine," Pandora promises. "You just can't picture her naked anymore."

James blushes. "I wasn't going to! And I know that, I'm just disappointed that it ended up— like that."

"You two dated quite quickly," Mary points out. "It's not that uncommon to realise that despite your attraction, you were both better off as friends."

"And that she is a lesbian."

James scowls at Marlene. "First off, she was almost never attracted to anyone before. Second, she is attracted to me. Third, she is trying to figure it out so don't push her around, Marl'."

Pandora nods. "Yes, I want Lily to stay our friend too. She is lovely."

"Why do you assume I'm going to bully her? I'm just sharing facts!"

"Because you are one," Mary sniffs and flips her off when she sticks her tongue out.

James watches them with an amused grin and meets Sirius' eyes with his own unsure gaze. "She would like that too but she is worried. I told her that it doesn't change anything but…"

Sirius pats his cheek before petting his hair. "Don't worry. I'm sure it will be fine."

"She might only need some time," Remus agrees.

"Breakups, as nice as it went for you two, is still hard," Mary adds with a sorry look. "You were both— intense."

Peter shares the sentiment with a nod as they watch James drinks his cuppa and Sirius brushes his wet hair to cheer him up. He smiles at them, lips wordless for several tries before rolling his shoulders.

"I still love Lily, maybe not as much as a lover like I wanted but at least we are. She offered me a chance to try and… If I'm honest, I felt it for a while."

"Oh, Prongs."

"No, it's fine," he promises with a quick comforting smile at Sirius. "I was happy. Think she was too but you know, no sparks or anything. Comfy but more like friends with benefits rather than lovers."

"Shouldn't it be like that?" Marlene wonders, putting down her cup on the coffee table. "Maybe you only got through the honeymoon part."

"We can't really judge on that," Peter slowly says. "No one has been in a serious relationship more than you. Even Re-"

"Let's not talk about him," Remus interrupts.

Sirius glances at him before settling back on James. "I'm sure there is someone out there that will give you all the sparks you want."

James sighs. "It's stupid but I had everything planned. Now I have to plan another wedding, with someone else, in God knows when but I want to find my soulmate-"

"Lobster-"

"To build our lives together and get married," he finishes with a fond but torn expression.

The doors of Hogwarts slam open and the rain furiously takes advantage of that small gap before it closes after a figure stumbles through on heels. The cafe falls silent, everyone doing a double-take at the long white wedding dress, beautiful despite its soggy state.

"And I want a pony!" Pandora blurts out with eager eyes at the apparition.

The disheveled black hair clashes with the long veil scrunched up in it while the bride frantically looks around with wide bloodshot eyes, which almost pops out of her skull when landing on a gaping Sirius.

"Oh my God," he gasps out, hand frozen in a tangle of James' hair as he straightens up in his seat.

With blank and tears brewing eyes, the bride stumbles to the couch, completely missing the step of the entry but she saves herself with a thunderous look and nails digging into the couch.

"Sirius! Oh my God, there you are," she gasps out.

"Holy crap," Marlene blurts out.

Sirius stares at the bride before jumping out of his seat. "What are you doing here?!"

The bride scowls, angrily pulling at her skirt before throwing it to point out the obvious. "I went by your apartment but then I only found your landlord who told me you might be here-- which you are and I finally found you..," her voice cracks the more it goes as her already ashen face blanches.

Sirius is quite close to follow her by the weak step he takes but stops himself. James is as flabbergasted as him but by his frown he mights have recognized her. Remus glances between them before almost inching over the edge, ready to stand up.

"Pads?"

"Hum, would you like a cuppa?" The waitress asks with a worried frown.

The bride almost glares at her, ramming her dress in one hand, before turning back to Sirius.

"I need your help-"

"How the hell are you even here?! Found me?"

"Sirius can't actually be secretly married, is he?" Peter whispers but Remus is at lost of words.

"I know all your whereabouts."

"Can someone explain to me what's happening?!" Mary exclaims with a barely hushed tone, leaning against Pandora's shoulders to stare at them closer.

Sirius jerks, glancing frantically at them until he lands back on the bride who started to breath heavily.

"Oh my God, breathe!" James says, standing up with a gesture at the couch. "Sit down, catch your breathe."

She ignores him. "I need your help, Sirius-"

"Did you just run out of a wedding?!" He exclaims.

"Yes, mine! You— ne fais pas l'idiot !" She argues with big gasps of air, chest bobbing not by much despite the speed under her corset. "I ran off because I couldn't do it, not anymore. I… I just can't. I had to crawl through a window but I had no idea where to go except to you," she gasps out with a fever splattered on her cheeks, "I think I broke my ankle because of these stupid heels."

Sirius takes a deep breath, leaning onto the couch to look at her legs, before looking up. "What's your shoe size? 13, right?"

"What? No, I'm not a child anymore, Sirius! 5," She says, exasperated.

Every patron are still watching when Sirius jumps over the coffee table to get to Mary. She can barely make a noise before her shoes are grabbed and she shrieks when Sirius only tugs harder.

"Sirius! Stop!" She shrieks, clawing at the rug when she is dragged, before throwing a disbelieving look at them. "Wha- can anyone help me?!" She gasps when one of her shoes finally gives up and Sirius almost falls on Pandora before he does the same for the second shoe.

No one moves and even the bride seems stunned by Sirius, who walks up to him to hand him over Mary's shoes. James gapes at them.

"Padfoot?"

"My shoes?!"

"Free heels."

Sirius throws blindly the pair of sparkly heels on the couch, helping the bride stay upright as she tries to put Mary's shoes on with one hand while the other shakily holds on the dress. Mary, baffled, glances at the heels before taking them with a shrug.

"Sirius?" Remus cautiously calls.

"Don't come in the apartment for like, an hour at least!" He calls as he leads the bride outside, helping her as keeps tripping despite the new shoes.

They watch them through the windows, along with everyone else, while Sirius hastily tries to untangle the veil from her long black hair before throwing it out on the street as they disappear around the corner. Pandora turns to gape at them in excitement.

"What just happened?!"

Remus slightly shakes his head and turns to James. "Prongs?"

He jerks to face them, still standing in front of the couch, and his mouth finally shuts with a loud noise. "Huh?"

"Have an idea who that was?"

"She looked a lot like Sirius," Peter comments.

James nods, clearly in his thoughts, before sitting down with a last look at the windows. "It's Regulus."

"Who?"

"Sirius' brother."

"Sirius has a brother?" Peter asks in disbelief. "Since when?!"

Mary frowns. "Hum, then explain why his brother was wearing heels and wearing a wedding dress? Stealing my shoes?"

"You are wearing the heels," Pandora points out.

"Because he stole them and they are clearly expensive— even if they don't fit with my current jeans."

"He is trans," Remus says. "That's the brother who didn't want to run away with him when they were younger?"

James nods, glancing at the windows again. "Regulus."

"You knew?! How come didn't I know?" Peter asks.

"Wait, is he a trans man or a trans woman because I'm lost," Pandora interjects.

"Trans man," James explains. "He— well, their parents aren't quite accepting that part but he still stayed with them. That's why he looks so… not."

"God, was that a forced marriage and forcing him to stay a woman?" Mary asks in horror. "Wait, is it Regulus as a man or? Strange name."

"That's the name he picked for himself."

"You knew him from your private fancy school?" Peter wonders and looks at Remus. "But you weren't there, so how did you know?"

"Erm, Sirius might have mentioned it to me," he admits. "Barely…"

"Oh my God, their parents must be going crazy. They are just insane-"

"Holy crap, Sirius with tits is hot." James stares in disbelief at Marlene, finally coming back to earth by the looks of it with a slight scoff. "What?! I never thought that would happen! And they look terrifyingly similar!"

"I thought his family was in France," Remus mentions, confused. "How did Regulus find Sirius like that?"

"Should we go check on them maybe?" Pandora asks, straightening up on her knees. "He said to not come to the apartment but maybe we can bring some warm food and drinks for them. Make Regulus feel welcome."

James gasps. "Do you think he is going to stay?"

Marlene frowns at him. "Wait… Didn't you have this huge crush on Regulus?! I remember something about Sirius' sibling!"

Mary cackles at James' vivid blush. He makes a rude gesture at her while Pandora smiles fondly at him, joining him on the couch to rub his shoulder. Remus smiles with a sorry on his lips, remembering James' infatuation on his best friend's brother back when they met during university where Sirius only showed up sometimes to visit with no mention of any sibling except for James.

[rxttenfish]

my unpopular opinion is that i dont like nerd x nerd ships and they really dont work for me. ive seen too many fandom dramas and too many petty disagreements over fan content rip relationships apart and imo it just feels like its underlining all my least favorite things about nerd circles.

you need at least one of them to touch grass, to balance it out. one of them has to not understand what the other is talking about but be simply glad that theyre having fun all the same. i will also accept nerd x nerd ships if they both have a healthy degree of grass-touching within themselves.

[kroosluvr]

temptation

i lowkey have too many notes to write down properly KDFHKDS but ill write them down for Future Cele so i can read it later and be like omggg past cele ur so fun and interesting

in general, the more "color" the scenes have, the closer it is to "real life" as opposed to the muted/hushed winter blues of maruki's reality

i.e. the dark frames w akira smiling and the very last panel are when reality sinks in: first for akira, then for goro

by the way this is long winter au but sumire is still brainwashed. this also works for canonverse but i just had long winter au in mind:o

youve heard of laundry and taxes now get ready for coffee and pastries

in every panel, akira is smiling! :) and goro is very much not smiling.

intentionally his face is hidden in the last 2 pages so its unclear whether it's the "ideal reality" already (akira/goro's daydreams/wants/desires), or if goro is still fighting akira on making sure he picks the right choice

the smoke from the first page kinda leads into the 3rd page omfg COMPLETELY UNINTENTIONAL BUT REALLY COOL LMAOOO

that's nameless and belladonna in jazz jin!!! i love them. I LOVETHEM. i miss them so bad is it obvious

the cafe is loosely based off of caffe strada @ uc berkeley LMAO. my parents used to take me there a lot as a little kid so that's the first cafe i think of when i imagine one. its like right on the streetside, basically on the sidewalk, so its very bustling and people are always walking by... probably a little disconcerting to see everyones summery bright smiles despite the bitter cold and snow

in long winter AU, the Ideal Reality starts before 1/1 so yeah they get to see the new years fireworks together (or something)

also intentional that they wear the same winter outfits in the whole comic although it Probably does not take place at the same time. in maruki's snowglobe, time seems frozen in place... but akira and goro are both acutely aware that the sands are running thru QUICK

goro's frustrated expression on page 3 is one also of disdain: "don't speak FOR me you fucking imbecile" type of expression.

goro, who's never lived a normal life and therefore doesn't know much abt "normalcy" nor really actively seeks it. this 3rd semester is basically purgatory for him and he doesn't care to try and go through the motions the way akira does. akira what do YOU know about the type of "normalcy" i deserve? how do YOU know if i "deserve" that?

im thinking that this is a naive akira who is mostly set on taking the deal because he feels hopeless... seeing all his friends with good happy lives while goro and himself are alive and miserable and shouldering the weight of the world during the horror of long winter......

oh but if he takes the deal they could all be good and alive and happy!!!.... and goro knows this. i feel like in any other universe (i.e. akira is 100% certain on not taking the deal and goro knows this) then goro would be happy and carefree to do these little indulgences for himself and akira's sake, to just enjoy the snowglobe world while it exists.

but this goro is discontent. he sees how akira is enjoying the snowglobe and knows maruki is depending on this. goro has to be the one to remind akira that none of this is his to keep........ in this fucked up world, routine is dangerous. becoming comfortable is dangerous. they cannot keep any of this.

on that note, goro says "i hate you" in a halfhearted sort of way (it's not true and akira knows that.) but he's trying to think of a way that he can dissuade akira from picking the wrong choice.....

and i think the thing is, goro thinks all of this, but he still falls into the rhythm of routine with akira anyway. in a way, goro feels hopeless too.

all of this is maruki's doing........ paralyzed by the inability to choose... whatever you do, you lose. goro needs to hold akira at arm's length so the stupid sentimental fool doesn't get too attached and falls into the wrong universe. akira needs to make a concentrated effort to detach himself from goro even though he wants the simplest thing in the world: just one more unremarkable day with him. it's lose-lose..........,

also i liked drawing the tentacles in the last pic the freaking blue lines on them were SO satisfying to draw

edit: also the last page: the blood flooding the panel….. the idea of the ideal world being built off of the blood and sweat and tears and bodies of the people who could have been. of those lost in the actualization, of those destroyed, of those stitched together and brought back to life. all just for a little false happiness. goro sees it but akira doesn’t, and it’s a grim sight.

[orcelito]

in other news my itnl planning doc is already kinda lengthy and ive only addressed 5 of the gung ho guns. & this is just me making notes & marking general ideas.

wolfwood is there too bc im going thru the wiki in order but his section is just

[cyborg-franky]

Thank you @tenzeniths for the support and I hope you enjoy this <3<3 Marco, Ace, Thatch, Izou [POLYAM] x GN Reader with chronic fatigue SFW WC: 1,500

You hated how you felt all the time, your body betraying you at every chance it got You felt tired, exhausted daily. Before you’d taken to the sea it hadn’t been so bad, more of a mild inconvenience but now you were part of one of the strongest and most notorious crews in the world. You really, really noticed it and you knew everyone else could tell you struggled.

Could see how you’d be okay one moment, your normal cheerful self and helping around the place. Either in Marco’s office helping with paperwork or with patients. Helping Thatch in the kitchen with dishes or cooking. You’d go on a mission with Ace, sitting alongside him on his Striker as you checked out a nearby island. Or when you helped Izou teach his division skills on the battlefield. 

But after a few hours, sometimes not even that, you’d feel all your energy drained, your ability to keep up, pay attention, or even stand just depleted, and you’d curse yourself and your body for being so useless and weak. You knew you couldn’t help it but that still didn’t make you feel any better. You didn’t feel like an equal to any of your wonderful partners.

Marco

He understood it better than the others. After all he was a doctor. Whenever Marco saw you flagging, the tell-tail signs you were struggling. If you weren’t working with him at the time, and he saw you starting to lose all momentum, he’d ask for your help.

Anything to get you in the office and sat down. He didn’t want you to get hurt where you couldn’t concentrate.

If you were already working with him when you started to feel the fatigue hit, chances were Marco knew before you even felt it fully hit.

“Come sit on the couch,” he’d say with his hands on your shoulders, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs as you sighed, the sound heavy as you looked up at his lop-sided smile and kind eyes. “I’m fine Marco,” you’d fight him on it, not wanting to feel you couldn’t even do something as simple as sitting at a desk and reading.  “It’s just paperwork,” 

He clicked his tongue and gave you a tsk knowing he was going into doctor mode any second. “It’s still mentally taxing. There is no shame in needing a break yoi.” He said, voice firm as he gently rocked you, urging you to leave the chair and go do as you were told.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” You mumbled and rubbed your forehead, feeling the agitation at yourself growing as you stood. “Don’t be sorry, it’s a medical condition and as much as I appreciate you trying your best, I don’t want you pushing yourself baby bird,” He said and kissed your forehead, leading you to the sofa sitting you down.

“I feel useless,” you added as he fussed over you, getting a blanket to drape over you. “Not useless, never useless yoi.” Marco brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “You keeping me company, that’s all I need.”

“Really?” “Yes, I promise.”

Marco had a way of calming you down. You soon settled and felt yourself drift off into a well-needed nap.

---

Thatch

Less chill about things than Marco.

Will 100% be on your ass about have you eaten today? Do you need a snack? What about water? Are you staying hydrated?

Thatch is the actual mother hen of the four.

If he wasn’t satisfied with the answer, he’d give you this look, tapping his foot but you knew he meant well.

You’d been helping out around the deck that afternoon, trying to at the very least. You sighed and slumped against the mast as you closed your eyes and tried to stop the lightheaded feeling rushing through you as you gripped the handle of the mop tighter, something to ground yourself as you tried to shut the world out. 

You could feel it, the way your energy just drained. You’d felt so good this morning that you’d fooled yourself into thinking you could do everything. But now you were paying for such a bold claim as mopping the deck, which had well and truly sapped all you had moments ago.

“Hey pumpkin.” You opened your eyes to see Thatch, and he had a worried expression on his face as he folded his arms over his chest and examined you. “How ya feelin’?” He asked as you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m fine,”

He tsked and gave you a scrutinizing gaze as you practically wobbled in front of him. 

“Come get something to eat,” 

“I’m fine,” you were stubborn, a trait many of the Whitebeard pirates shared. Thatch sighed and dropped his arms by his sides before he lifted you up effortlessly, slinging you over his shoulder and ignoring your protests.

Soon you were sat in the kitchen as Thatch made you a sandwich, making sure there were veggies and protein to help you perk up. 

“You didn’t have to,” you mumbled, feeling bad as he’d obviously spent most of the afternoon prepping for dinner tonight. “I know, but I wanted to.” he gave one of his classic broad grins and handed you the plate, kissing your forehead. “I gotta look after you. The others would kick my ass if I didn’t right?” he said, chuckling and ruffling your hair as he looked at you with such adoration.

After that you were given a chair and helped him do some lowkey little effort chores so you felt useful but it wasn’t too much.

--

Ace

People assumed Ace wouldn’t understand what you were going through. They thought that he was young and so full of energy that he couldn’t possibly relate.

Except, he could.

The times he’d wear himself out [granted, it took way more than it did for you] he would be overwhelmed with the need to sleep and just pass out in random places.

A type of exhaustion-based narcolepsy Marco had explained.

You both could see the signs in one another and as much as you wouldn’t wish anything bad on people, let alone someone you loved, it was comforting to have someone in a similar camp as yourself.

You could feel your feet dragging, feeling the aches in your body and were aware your mood was starting to dip lower and lower as your ability to cope with the day whittled away. 

Ace walked over and saw you looking frazzled.

You could tell Ace wasn’t much better. He didn’t have his mischievous glimmer in his eyes, his dark circles prominent and the smile on his face was a shadow of a smirk. His posture was slouched and lazy as he nodded to you.

“Do I look as tired as I feel?” you asked with a sigh and collapsed against his chest, feeling arms around you as he used you to prop himself up as much as you needed him. “Worse,” he laughed and kissed your head.

“Maybe we need to get you to bed,” Ace hummed, running a hand down your back. “Ace.” you looked up at him, giving him a look. 

Ace scoffed and rolled his eyes, pulling away enough to see the frown on your face. “Not for anythin’ like that. Although…” he trailed off until you jabbed him in the side. “I’m kiddin’!”

“A nap, just a little power nap to get us through till tonight, huh?”

Now, that did sound nice…

“Oh Portgas, you tease…” You sighed and let him pull you away to his room, where you both promptly fell onto his bed, embraced by the soft pillows and tangled messy sheets.

Neither of you had even managed to take off your shoes as you cuddled together to recharge.

--

Izou

Izou was much more ‘tough love’ than your other partners.

But even so, he tried his best to understand and learn about your illness. Knowing you couldn’t help it any more than someone with a broken leg could.

He was more of a fan of ‘preventative’ measures. Seeing you exhausted and fighting to stand up was hard for him, unsure how to deal with it in a positive way without feeling he was being condescending or coddling you.

So you’d have these little tea sessions and pamper evenings with him. 

“This one is said to relax your body and mind, makes rest all the more revitalizing,” he said and poured you a tea as you sat across from him with a facemask on, feet in a tub of warm water with all sorts of oils and herbs.

You weren’t sure how much of these things would really work but it was nice to be so cared for and doted on. This was Izou’s way of doing his best to show he cared and wanted to help.

“Tastes… bitter?” you said, slapping your lips together. “All the best remedies taste bad,” Izou countered as he sat down and sipped his own, making a happy sound as he closed his eyes. 

The room was nice. His room always smelt like incense and flowers, and the colours he’d chosen to decorate his space with were also calming. You felt good here, felt good with him.

“How do you feel?” he asked as he watched you, taking in all your little movements and reactions as you basked in comfort.

“I feel good, I feel like I’m recharging.” you watched the smile grace his face as he nodded. “Good,”

[blushweddinggowns]

 “So let me get this straight. You met a hot guy, conned him into a date with you, lied about who you were to get into his pants and still failed. Then kept going, bought a new phone and rented a fake apartment, fell in love him, continued this elaborate ruse for four months, and now you want me to figure out a way for you to get out of it?”

“...yes?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chrissy nearly screeched into his ear, “That is what you have been doing? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

“Obviously, yes!” Eddie yelled right back, feeling fraught as hell. He was pacing back and forth, a cigarette in hand as he spoke, “I never planned on ending up here!”

“Really? Because this whole shit show seemed to need a lot of planning. Is this really what happens when I leave you unsupervised? I am never letting you out of the house again.”

Eddie was well aware he deserved the ribbing. He deserved much worse, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate, “Chris, I’m serious. I need help.”

“Eddie, I love you but come on. You need a plane ticket and an apology muffin basket and to move on. This guy doesn’t even know you.”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It’s-okay. I’m still me with him. It’s like…I’m acting like who I would have been if I was never famous. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Have you tried delusional? Also, can I get a picture of this guy? How hot can one dude be to drive you-”

“I’m serious,” Eddie interupted, irritation coloring his voice, “I told him everything. The shit about my parents, Wayne, the drugs, you, everything.”

“You realize that everything would include your real name right? And again, a picture for the love of god would really help put this in perspective-”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie sighed. She still wasn’t getting it, “I’m in love with him. Like Chris, he was made for me. And if I had just stuck to tattooing instead of doing the music shit then I’m pretty sure he’d think the same of me.”

He could hear a small intake of breath on her end, her voice coming out a bit more concerned than before, “Eds, are you serious?”

“Dead. I… I think he’s the one,” No, that was another lie. Eddie took a deep breathe before admitting the truth, “He is the one. And… I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”

“Honey, it’s an infatuation. A really, really strong one, but still-”

“Chrissy. Listen to me. I want to marry him. Do you understand me now?”

If that didn’t get through to her nothing else would. Because Chrissy Cunningham had spent hours upon hours of listening to Eddie complain about the institution of marriage since fucking highschool. How it was all a farce, just some bullshit people pulled for tax reasons and patriarchal idealism. And now here he was, fucking day dreaming about the perfect happily ever after with the love of his life. 

“Oh Jesus,” Chrissy groaned, the sineritcy Eddie was looking for finally creeping into her voice, “Sweetie, I’m so sorry… but I think you might have fucked yourself too big on this one.”

“Isn’t there something I can do?” Eddie pleaded into the phone, like Chrissy actually had all the power in the world to fix this, “What if I just lead a double life? Couldn’t that work?” 

He had seen a movie about that once or twice. It was a thing. Or if it wasn’t then he could make it one.

But Chrissy didn’t seem too convinced, “Eddie, honey, you’re describing the plot of Hannah Montana like it can actually be a solution. Do you realize how insane that is? Do you not get how far you’ve fallen?”

from the next chapter of this fic

[equalseleventhirds]

"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—

"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."

Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."

(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)

"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."

Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.

Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"

"Hey—!"

Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."

Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"

"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."

"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?

"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."

"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"

-- -- -- -- --

Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.

But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.

And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.

A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.

Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!

So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.

[writingjourney]

RHRN spoilery talk

(about grief and mental health and the ending, the way I see the movie and why I love it so much)

I am feeling so many things about the fact that Copia was so unwell and anxious during the movie, trying to push away the reality of the end of his time as Papa as well as the visible signs of illness in Sister, that he dissociated the moment he stepped off stage, that he saw her sitting in a regular chair instead of the wheelchair, blended out the doctors and IV bags to see her how he wanted to see her, this strong powerful woman who has been by his side, pushing him, and who he only recently learned was his actual mother. It is so very easy to get lost in your anxiety about the future, in the anticipatory grief of what you'll lose, struggling to stay mindful and here where you have actual power over your life.

And looking back at the chapters this is what he has been doing, clinging to his little comforts (think of the whipped cream moment in the movie vs. the video games, the tricycle rides, the movie scene re-enactments), pushing away unwanted thoughts (not doing his taxes, the fact that neither his father nor his mother openly admitted to the parentage despite all signs being there, letting him float in uncertainty), playing it off like he's cool about everything while feeling dread and anxiety on the inside the closer he comes to the end of his era and presumed death (think of the coffin scene, the intro to the movie).

This man had no family so he picks role models that are close to him and suddenly when he learns that they were family all along he loses them, learns that he has been lied to most of his life and worked hard for others, to fill their shoes (first his father, now his mother). Despite Nihil treating him awfully he continuous to try and reach for approval for his achievements which he does not even get by the end as he's promoted ("I hope this new guy doesn't disappoint like you did"). He will never get emotional fulfilment from his father despite having small bonding moments, something that is fucking hard to accept and that he brushes off by throwing silly insults at him because it hurts. Because yeah, this is the type of pain that makes you feel like a child searching for breadcrumbs of affection from parents who do not know how to meet your emotional needs.

I feel just incredibly seen by all of this, the grief, dealing with sick relatives, emotional neglect, absent fathers you try to get love from but never will, lack of familial support, depression, trying to hold on to what comforts you in the darker moments, struggling to stay present in the face of anxiety and the world at large. I know this plot means little to some people, that you'd wished for more drama or something different altogether, but I feel like if you paid attention to the chapters then this is only the natural progression, the natural conclusion of his arc. It is very raw if you look past the comedic relief, and it is very well done in a way that keeps the campy, silly vibes of the chapters while still approaching these subjects in a very tangible, relatable way. It just makes me love the band even more.

[r0-boat]

So... Netflix and chill with Wise 👉🏻👈🏻

Fucking hell yeah!

Are you still watching?

Zenless Zone Zero Wise x Gn!afab Reader.

Cw: rough!Wise, sex on the couch, smut.

You are pretty sure no one in the entire world uses 'Netflix and chill' seriously...

Except for Wise apparently

Wise_Ass💞: Wanna come over? And chill maybe watch some Netflix?

You squinted at your phone, the brain still booting up as you woke up from a beautiful more than 8 hours of sleep on a Saturday.

Your eyes skimmed over the text again. Wondering if their eyes were read that right. The words were switched, but 'Netflix and chill' usually doesn't mean just 'chilling.' But even then, it is more of a tongue-in-cheek term. A term that you don't take seriously, no matter how serious you are.

It was only natural you would brush something like this off; anyone would. Shooting him a text back, you picked out your clothes and headed into the bathroom to shower.

Wise had been so pent up... So. Pent. Up. He had been doing this year's taxes, and if you run and operate a business, doing the taxes is hell; he could let Fairy do it, but then Fairy would probably find some weird loophole, and that just sounded like more work down the line, as well as possible suspicion. He knew 100% that Belle would take twice as long, but only because 70% of it would involve procrastinating. So he would much rather be in charge of the finances and taxes.

Combined the fact that he just hasn't seen you in a while.

All he wanted to do was unwind and have you in his arms. And drill you into the couch pinning your body down folding you in half to fuck you raw and hard, feeling your wet pussy clinch to milk his aching cock. Wise doesn't like thinking about your body being anything more than a sex toy. Even now, instead of staring at the documentary he's probably watched a hundred times, he stares at you with hunger.

Now you were sitting right beside him in his room, the door locked. Pressing your side into him. Your body feels softer than usual, an arm wrapped around your neck and head sliding down your back, pulling you closer, his fingers idly playing with the hem of your shirt.

He has no idea why he feels so needy today, His heart is practically pounding in his chest as he tries to slowly initiate sex hoping you pick up on What he is trying to tell you before he loses his mind.

He is so relieved that you seem to be more invested In the documentary about animals because he is a rock fucking hard, and all he could think about is mounting you like one.

He was He is blunt honest and calm but when it comes to you especially sexually he can barely think.

His hand slides back to his side before placing it on your thigh His breath shaking As he watches you slightly spread your legs underneath his grip.

Fuck it.

You watch when Wise picks up the remote turning the volume up just in case if a nosy sister is here. He scoots away from you and before you could question him he picks up your legs on the couch before crawling on top of you. Instead of his gentle smile and a soft gaze of green.

Those same eyes staring to you the look of hunger you just noticed to eat you alive butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Wise's hand is already reaching underneath your pants. You thought you were used to Wise's subtle initiation. You've been with your boyfriend long enough to know his body language.

As the documentary still plays in the background which gets drowned out by his voice tickling your ear.

"Can I have you? Do you want this?"

From the way he looks at you to the straining you now feel in his pants his true intentions are more than clear. And very welcomed.

You wrap your arms around Wise as his lips meet yours. He missed those lips. Soft lips he could kiss for hours. But your lips will not be enough, as much as he loves his tongue in your mouth he wants to make sure every part of your face, neck, collar and chest gets attention from his mouth, from soft kisses, hungry licks and possessive hickeys. Wise had been doing this since the first time He had sex with you.

As his lips pepper your face before going down to your neck He sheds off your shirt before kissing further down.

Wise nuzzles his face against the crook of your neck taking in your lovely scent he'd missed so dearly. His warm wet tongue glides across your neck before suckling on the soft skin. He nips and sucks leaving a hickey in a quite visible spot he will probably regret later. Right now all he could think about was your chest in his mouth.

But before he could lean down too put one of your hard and nipples in his mouth you pull at his shirt. Wise realizes he was still fully clothed And he can't have that. He gives you a gentle smile kissing on the forehead before getting up off the couch you watch as he strips slowly lifting his shirt over his head before taking his pants his boxers with it. Usually your shy boyfriend leaves his boxers on until he's ready to slide inside you.

You don't mind this at all He's cute shy smile with his throbbing cock bobbing as he climbs back on top of you was a sight to behold. Wise slides off your bottoms and your underwear leaving you both naked as the day you were born. His cock was so close to your wet slit an occasionally Wise when his mouth was busy on your chest he would grind his shaft against your wet folds.

You want to reach out and touch him but he stops you His hand gently grabbing your wrist and firmly pinning them over your head.

"no touching." He smirks holding you down with one hand the other hand sliding it's fingers down your body before finding your pussy.

"But you're touching me That's not fair!" You whine which Wise only response "That's unfortunate."

His eyes were trained on you the entire time as his fingers went up and down before sinking inside. You are thankful that the volume drowned out the sound you just made, feeling is cold thick fingers fill your cunt. Wise knows exactly where to touch trying to go deep enough to curl his fingers into that spot. His eyes lit up his mouth tongue open watching you arch your back underneath him spurring him on to finger fuck you faster harder.

He has never heard such noises come from your pussy before. why didn't he ram knuckles deep into your cunt sooner? He kept sucking on your chest occasionally alternating between your nipple and your neck, he could feel you clenching around him.

"Are you close? Come on baby, You can do it, squeeze my fingers and cum. Come on, you deserve to feel good. I want you to feel good."

Again you think the documentary still playing in the background as you moan Wise's name as you trench his fingers. Fingering you through your orgasm And when you finally come down from your high you watch as Wise uses your juices to coat his cock His fingers and hands sliding up and down the thick veiny shaft.

His breath is shaky as he touches himself, giving himself a few more pumps before lining it up.

"I need more I'm sorry I don't think I can be gentle please let me know if I hurt you." He kisses you on the forehead finally letting go of your wrists he grabbed your legs putting them over his shoulders.

Mating press. Something he can only hear of so animalistic, raw, and filthy. But that's how he wants to take you. That's how he has been craving to take you.

Wise's mouth is hung open, his chest heaving sinking himself inside.

He clenches his teeth letting out of his and a grown, You already arch your back clamping down on him as he struggles to move deeper inside.

Wise wants to be rough but he is not a monster He lets you adjust to his size, before he starts moving. He stays fully inside you for a few minutes again peppering your face with kisses before asking if he could move. And when you nod he clenches his teeth His fingers digging into your thigh he slowly pulls out before.

Slamming back inside you You let out a surprise shriek when she places his hand over your mouth. At that point Wise is gone seeing his own hand over your mouth keep fully leans his body into yours slamming down again and again. You are grateful for him covering your mouth because you cannot stop your noises.

And apparently, Wise can't either, usually, during sex, he's breathy, but this time, as he ravages your body, he growls and moans like an animal in rut as he plunges into you over and over again. Hitting that deep spot inside you that had you cumming on his cock.

Wise's eyes roll back in pleasure feeling your cunt squeeze him for all his worth. Pounding into you with reckless abandon chasing his orgasm.

Wise sinks his teeth into your shoulder stealing his hips inside of you with one final slam he fills you up to the brim. Wise collapses onto you wrapping his arms around you giving you another dose of sweet kisses whispering Sweet nothings of how much he loves you and missed you.

Wise Not wanting you to fall asleep on the couch picks you up into his arms He smiles down at you when you yawn.

He puts you in his bed and joins you. Is neatly folded sheets and blanket now tossed over to fit the both of you. The smell of him and the fresh smell of his laundry lull you to sleep, snuggling into his chest. Wise smiles, welcoming you into his arms.

The documentary was still playing, but neither of you cared. It was just background noise for you to fall asleep, too.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 25 Loss Of My Life

Chapter 25 of Moonlight

A/N- 💔🖤

Warning- Swearing, talks of pregnancy and blood, ANGST, some fluff? Violence, death, and SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 469-490

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

How long can bliss last when it’s being poisoned by the knowledge of a dooming death?

Night soon turns to morning and you have yet to utter the reason why you came after Aemond. Then again even if the sun is miraculously out in the rainy slums of the Riverlands, for you it’s like the sun's light never rose and replaced the dark night. For you, the world is dull and dark as all that occupies your mind is the thought of his looming death.

Or so that’s what Helaena said.

You try to deny it. All night you tried to be in denial and think that she was wrong, but you know better. You know she’s never been wrong about a dream she’s foretold, so why would this one be any different? And it’s not like she’s deceitful to try and play it off that way. She’s right and no matter how many alternatives you try to think of, there’s no way around it.

Except if you leave and are never found again. It would hurt those you love to leave without a word or a trace, but if it saves Aemond from his doom then you can’t be against it. You aren’t…

Is he?

But are you really not against it? Leaving your mother behind? Vanessa? Your cousins, and…him too? Everything you have ever known?

One thing is dreaming of leaving. One thing is thinking about it without actually attempting to do it, and actually planning to leave is another thing. Are you really able to do it?

You think about the answer as you watch how the stream moves downriver. You’re meant to catch fish for lunch later, but so far you’re empty-handed and simply full of thoughts until the moment Aemond’s reflection appears on the water and pulls you from the depths of your unraveled mind.

“Should I still hold faith in your skill?” He says lightheartedly as he notices the lack of fish, making you stand up from your crouched position and flash him a very faint smile. You try to respond with something witty, but at that moment you’re so plagued by your poisonous thoughts that you can’t muster the energy to do so. You just lose your smile and look down at the ground as you fiddle with your sapphire ring.

Aemond takes note of your lack of response right away and can no longer ignore how quiet and melancholy you’ve been all morning.

“What’s wrong?” Aemond finally picks on your silence and long dragging frown.

You stop fiddling with your ring but keep your eyes downcasted, stealing a breath before you finally share what’s been plaguing you. You can’t avoid it anymore or it will destroy you from the inside out.

“Aemond…I came to find you because,” you pause and take another breath as if what you’re going to say is the most taxing thing ever. “Helaena told me…that you are going…to,” you stop and lightly shake your head as you can’t accept what you’re about to share out loud.

However, you do, you say it but with every word hurting every part of you. “…Die in fourteen days.”

Not a single breath of shock escapes past Aemond’s lips. He doesn’t utter a word of disbelief, or move to express any single emotion. He stays where he is and remains as still as he was, making you believe that he somehow didn’t hear you or that he’s just speechless, so you slowly trail your eyes up to read him, but you don’t catch what you expect. His lips are parted but when your eyes find his, he closes his mouth and looks at you with his eyes simply caught under a mist.

Nothing of what you just revealed seemed to have fazed him so you slowly work around that confusion and begin to assume that he already knew.

It looks like he does and you only just found out his secret. That’s how you read his face.

“You…”

“I knew,” Aemond finishes for you since can barely voice your response. “Helaena told me the night you found out about your father leaving.”

You’re hit with shock. Instead of Aemond, you are the one hit with disbelief that causes your eyebrows to knit together, and your lip to form into a deeper and more displeased frown.

“But,” Aemond interjects to try and immediately console you. “It’s not true. I am not going to die in fourteen days or at all during this war,” he says but lacks confidence, you can hear the attempt to sound so, but you can’t feel it oozing off him or displayed on his long face.

“She was wrong. You can’t trust the words of a mad woman, and Helaena has never been sane,” he adds but nothing of what he says works to comfort your aching soul or running mind—“I am going to outlive her prophecy.”

“Story,” you mutter under your breath and step forward with a spike in energy and take his hands to hold them within your hold before you drag your hands up his arms, and then slowly slide them up to his face as if taking your time to take note of the smallest details.

“We can leave,” you share a plan that you mindlessly have no more doubts about. You say the words to him and you know that you can in fact leave it all behind for him. You found your answer in his eye.

“Together,” you continue with a nervous smile as you stroke his face. “I need only fly to King's Landing to get Aerion, but after that we can take our dragons and escape to Yi-Ti, to somewhere far, somewhere beautiful where we can raise our children. Where we can have the rest of our family and not worry about any feuds between our families. We could build a keep of our own by the sea so we can teach our children to fish, where we need not worry about a thing. Where we only have to think about our love and our children. Our family.”

You nod softly in hopes that he will mirror your actions and escape away with you, but no matter how intently he listens and holds your glistening eyes, he doesn’t utter a word or even let his head twitch. Thus you continue.

“Our children wouldn't have to have anything stolen from them like things were taken from us. They wouldn’t have to yearn for what they deserve. They wouldn’t have to be bullied or be sent away. They would grow happy and have everything we didn’t. We,” you press breathlessly and put more force on the hold you have on his cheeks. “We would be happy. We would be together until the rest of our days.”

Aemond holds your gaze with nothing to say with neither his words nor his eyes. He looks at you with a soft and admiring gaze that lets him press his forehead against yours and makes you believe that he will finally give in to your proposal.

Alas as that relief and happiness start to spark and attempt to take down your agony and cure you of that poison, when he pulls back he looks at you with a confidence he couldn’t muster before. Thus that cure, that relief, and that joy die out just as quickly as they started to grow, making you desperate and causing those tears in your eyes to grow a lot thicker than before.

“Please,” you beg and stroke his cheeks again. “Please Aemond.” You cry.

Aemond tilts his head as he swallows back thickly and you read his refusal to accept your proposal, causing you to peel away from him and step back with a gasp.

“Trust me,” he finally gives voice to the thoughts that have been running behind his eye. “My love, trust that I will win. That I will live. You hold so much blind faith in the words of mad witches and women that you fail to see the reality. Vhagar is strong. Vhagar is powerful. Vhagar will kill Caraxes and Daemon. We will win this war and give our children that same happy life that you want them to have in Yi-Ti, here. I will not die.”

You want to believe him. You want to believe every word that just came out of his mouth. You want to believe Helaena is wrong, but you would be oh so stupid to do so. And you can’t be stupid, not when it comes to your sanity because if you let yourself believe what he wants you to believe the reality will destroy you. There’s already little left of you, you can’t handle more pain. Not like that. Not again.

“You believe that?” Your voice quivers.

Aemond stays quiet for a second before he nods stiffly. “I know it,” he deadpans.

You blink repeatedly as tears crawl out of your eyes and nod before you step back and throw out a response he isn’t expecting. “If that’s what you believe then so be it, but I will not stay and watch you fight because I know the truth. You are going to die if you don’t leave and I for one won’t be around to watch it.” You throw out with tears crawling down your cheeks before you turn swiftly in an attempt to storm away, however, Aemond is quick and captures your arm to turn you and face him.

He’s about to say something to counter what you just said but you pull your arm from his grasp and continue voicing your emotion-filled argument. “No. No! You don’t know what it’s like watching someone die in your arms. You,” your breath trembles. “You don’t know what it’s like hearing someone take their last breath. You don’t know what it's like to feel helpless as you hold the dying body of someone you love. You don’t—you don’t. You don’t know!” You exclaim and shove him back with force brought by your grief and frustration.

“But I do, I lived it. I live it every day in my dreams. Jacaerys dies again and again every day in my dreams. My father does too. Every night. I watch them die in my arms every night and every night I’m reminded that I couldn't do anything to save them. To save Jace,” you mewl and wipe away the stream of tears off the curve of your cheeks. “I won’t have you haunting my dreams too. Grieving you every day of my life will be enough pain already. I won’t put myself through more just because you have a death wish.”

Aemond draws in a deep shaky breath and brings his chin up to look down at you with a glossy eye and pain.

“You’ll leave then?” He mutters to the bitter air. “Back to her? You’ll leave me again for her?”

You let out a shaky sigh and grow softer this time. “It’s because I love you that I’m leaving,” you remind him of something he should know, but something that he himself isn't sure of after he heard your speech. It’s like your lack of belief in him pierced his heart. It aches.

“It’s because I love you so much that I have to go,” you continue to say. “I love you Aemond. Everyone I know says I shouldn’t, everyone I know says you’re bad for me, but to me, that’s all nonsense because I love you. I am in love with you and no one can ever replace you, but it’s because I love you so deeply that I can’t watch you die.”

Tears continue to run down your face, as well as down Aemond’s face. You both look at each other with such a deep and harrowing heartache that only people who love each other could ever express.

“If that’s what you believe then,” he says in a shaky voice. “You must know…no, you must remember that you are the love of my life. I will never and I have never loved anyone as much as I have loved you.” He nods gently, and you stand there before him and just cry as you take in his words—“the truth is you are the only person in this world that I love. You are my weakness and strength. My heart belongs to you and only you. So go if that’s what you want. I won’t stop you. I won’t fight you. Not anymore.”

You ignore the screaming pain and nod since you can’t form a single syllable before you turn and walk away, with every step you take not being able to stop weeping.

You clutch onto your chest in hopes that will ease the pain, but you can’t breathe. You can’t see anything but the cloudy field that your teary eyes leave.

Nothing makes sense and everything hurts. It hurts so much, so deeply that you can’t think or feel. You��re numb as you walk further and further away defiantly, but, with every step that defiance to leave faltering until it completely breaks and you find yourself at a stop before you can reach your dragon.

Albeit before you can turn and return to Aemond, you let thoughts cross your mind and every single one of them tells you to get on your dragon and return home or join the Northern and Rivermen army, but your heart, oh, your feeble heart takes you back to Aemond, and you find him as he’s heading back to the hut.

“Swear,” you cry out. “Swear that you will fight with your life. Swear that you will live and I won’t leave you ever again. I will follow you anywhere and everywhere. Just swear.”

Aemond looks deep into your eyes and feels baffled at first, but when he sees that you’re being sincere he responds with what you’re seeking. “I swear.”

You take a deep breath and nod stiffly. “Okay,” you mutter.

——

Minutes turn to hours. Hours to days and days turn to two weeks.

Two weeks of always trudging along with the memory of Helaena’s words of the future, of the fate that awaits Aemond, the infamous love of your life.

He says such a fate is impossible, be assured he keeps saying. Believe in me he says over and over again, and as much as you want to, as much as you want to look at this foretold future in the face and deny its cruel tellings, if you let yourself believe then you will be crushed. You’ve known it before and you know it now.

It’s like a stain you can never remove. It’s always there in your peripheral vision, annoying and coming to your attention every time you forget about it.

“What happens after? After you kill Daemon?” You query slowly as if speaking as such will grant you more time.

Aemond looks away from your intertwined hands and briefly meets your eyes. “We join Daeron. With Cole dead there’s nowhere to go but to my brother.”

That’s if Daeron is still alive. The two dragonriders went to stop him and two old dragons with more experience than Tessarion should be enough to have taken Daeron down. Yet you don’t have a way to know in the middle of the forest.

“I’m sad Ser Gwayne had to die too,” you comment and earn Aemond’s immediate attention—“he was nice and good to be around.”

Aemond huffs and you smile faintly at the water surrounding your naked bodies.

“But seriously now, what of Aegon,” you continue to wonder. “There’s been no word of him so my guess is he’s still alive. Besides, the worst ones always have good luck don’t they?”

Aemond starts caressing your knuckles and sighs deeply before he sits up straight in the tub and looks at you smugly. “What is a cockless man worth to a building legacy? To a kingdom? He’s worthless now. If he’s found I’ll make him pass the crown to me. I have an heir, he doesn’t. I have the ability to have more children to continue our legacy. He doesn’t. I’m worth more than him, he’ll be…thrown aside.”

Well he is right about that, a king needs his heir and by their terms, he doesn't have them nor can he have them anymore, so he’s not much use to anyone, but would he give up the crown so easily?

Doubtful but he is gone so who knows?

“I suppose you’re right,” you interject to not answer him with silence.

Aemond hums in return and lets his head loll to the side as he now takes his time to study your face carrying a permanent sorrow, as if your eyes have already seen the tragedy you have to suffer tomorrow.

“Once we meet with Daeron I suppose we would stay where he is until the twins are born. They’re almost here,” he says and makes you pick your eyes off the water to pass him a faint smile.

“What is it?” He doesn’t hesitate to pick up on your sadness that’s a lot more prominent today. Just a day before Helaena says he’s going to die.

“Just worried,” you share even though he knows because he’s heard it multiple times already and he can see it so clearly on your face.

“It’s misplaced,” he brings up quickly as if the words were recited. “I told you I won’t die soon. Not against Daemon. Not during this war.”

Your eyes soften as your grief threatens to bring tears to your eyes, but you refuse to cry so you just look at him with a saddened look that pulls his body to you so he can sit in between your legs and lay his head back on your chest.

“I’ll be okay,” he says softly.

You hold his gaze to seek for more reassurance, to clutch onto some sort of bliss to ease your aching chest, but as you look deep into his blue eye all you get in return is more agony. It’s such a burning thing. So heavy on your chest. So plaguing.

Why is it that Aemond tends to make you so sad? Is this what love brings? Is this what it has to offer? A lifetime of sadness? Is loving someone supposed to hurt so much?

Staying in the hut, counting down the days to the foretold day has made you open your eyes to this nonstop sadness he keeps cursing you with and it’s truly disheartening, like cold water to the naked body. It makes you wish at times that perhaps you should have stayed true to your screaming desires and left when he said he would continue fighting despite being told he would die. You should have saved yourself the pain, but you stayed like a love-sick idiot.

You stayed and stay despite your troubles, insisting on sticking by him, and following him away from the hut on dragonback because like a fool you make yourself believe those words he kept repeating over and over again in your ear.

There’s not even hints of realization penetrating your mind that his doom can be only a hairsbreadth away when Aemond is proven right in believing Daemon would be at Harrenhal, the jewel of the Riverlands. You believe the promises Aemond made you because you refuse to think Helaena is right even though you spot the Red dragon Caraxes resting by the blackened castle the moment you fly above it, casting large darkened shadows with your dragons that give a short false sense of belief that the grey cloudy day was shunned and taken over by the night.

You believe Aemond is right with the fragments that remain of your heart. You believe him even through the sorrow he’s made you feel because that’s what he asks of you. You believe because no matter what, you love him. And it’s because you love him that you grab his biceps with force and plead one more time before Daemon can meet you and Aemond in the field.

“There’s still time, Aemond. We can mount our dragons and leave. We don’t even have to go far, we can fly to Daeron. Just choose before he comes.”

Aemond slides his arms away from your grasp to be able to cup your cheeks and pull in closer to you. “Your head is still in the clouds dreaming. Just like when we were young,” he speaks softly, but with no sign that he heard a word you said—“I’m not running. Not from Daemon. Not from this fight. The climax of this war is finally at hand, I will not cower now when my victory is near. Can’t you feel it?”

A pit grows in your stomach and a mist already covers your eyes, but you don’t dare believe anything else but what he says.

“Now come on,” he adds as he pulls away and leads the way away from the dragons, revealing your presence to not only Daemon but Alys too. She trails behind him with her eyes stuck on you.

“Nuncle I hear you have been seeking us,” Aemond breaks the silence first, but can’t break through that tension building up as Daemon gets closer and closer with no hint of fear, disbelief, or hesitation. He looks as he always does, smug, but probably even more so now that Aemond is right across from him.

“Only you,” Daemon retorts but then his eyes find you. “I can’t say I’m surprised, Princess. I can’t imagine your mother's heartache though.”

You swallow back nervously and cast your eyes down to the ground out of shame.

“Who told you where to find me?” Daemon then continues to direct at Aemond. “The princess?”

“Where else would you be?” Aemond remarks sassily. “Besides, I was told to come here by my sister.”

You slowly bring your eyes back up and glance at Aemond before you look back at Daemon, catching Alys stopping a few paces away from where he stops.

“You were a fool to come alone,” Aemond continues to throw at Daemon and puffs his chest out with a boost of confidence. “Or are you going to let witches fight your battles now?”

Daemon steals a glimpse at Alys and shakes his head before he meets Aemond's gaze. “No, she’s merely a friend who told me you’d come meet me here. She was right, and I’m right in knowing that you wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t alone.”

Aemond scoffs and flashes him a smirk. “Yet you are, and here I am. You have lived too long, Nuncle.”

Daemon nods stiffly. “On that much we agree,” he deadpans before he starts to turn around, only stopping to look at you before he can give you and Aemond his back.

“Do right by your mother, if not just don’t bother returning home,” he gives it to you bluntly without hesitation or remorse. Rather he sounds concerned and looks it too before he gives you his back and starts to make his way to his dragon.

However, before he can get too far, you interject. “Daemon.”

Said man comes to a halt in his tracks and lifts his head but doesn’t look back, letting you know he’s paying attention regardless.

“Is there anything you want me to tell Baela or Rhaena? Or my mother?” You ask not because you’re certain he’ll die but just in case he does.

Albeit he doesn’t pass you any messages. He simply shakes his head and speaks up in High Valyrian about another matter. “<Be the great fire that you’re meant to be. I know you can.>”

Your lips part in surprise and you’re left behind completely taken aback by what he chose to say. It’s true that your last interaction was kind, there was no resentment from you. You actually…became acquainted, but despite that, hearing him be kind is still surprising. It makes you think that perhaps if you hadn’t been so adamant about hating him you would have enjoyed having him as a stepfather.

Maybe in another life…

In this one, once he’s put some distance between him and you, you turn to Aemond with a shaky breath and see him walking to you with Blackfyre in hand.

“I want you to take care of it while I’m fighting Daemon,” he shares and hands you the sheathed sword.

“Why?” You probe as you look at it before meeting his gaze with confusion, seeing him look at the other sword around his hip; the one you had done for him a while ago with the Valyrian steel chain your grandmother had gifted you.

“I have this one. I prefer this one,” he says and looks back at you, making you hum softly with a flustered smile spreading on your lips.

Yet that smile soon thereafter falters, and a tense frown replaces it as you’re overfilled with worry as the time to fight Daemon is upon him.

“You swore,” you whisper shakily and he drops his head as he closes the gap between you to gently place his hand on your cheek. “Aemond,” you call out for his reassurance. “You swore.”

He nods softly before letting his eye find your gaze, feeling at that exact moment his eye softening and his pupil dilating. You both want to say so much, you want to speak so many I love you’s, but what are words compared to your love-filled gazes already speaking a thousand words that otherwise would have gone unheard?

“Do you believe in me?” He asks and with those words asking for your confession that he already knows but needs to hear for reassurance, and you…whatever doubt you had, whatever fear you have been carrying since you heard his fate, is nonexistent at this very moment. You believe him wholeheartedly.

“I believe in you,” you reassure him and drop the sword to throw your arms around his neck and clash your lips against his.

Aemond quickly secures his grasp on your cheeks and deepens that kiss. He savors the sweet taste, making it easy for you to linger in the moment, in the passionate gesture, and take more and more from him in hopes that would convince him to stay.

Alas, his mind is made and after a while, when you both need to breathe he parts, leaving only a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“I love you,” you say breathlessly and a smile flickers on his lips.

“<I love you too,>” he redirects in High Valyrian and continues to look deep into your eyes as if trying to memorize every detail. All while you do the same with him to delay the inevitable.

If only you could stop him, but…reality comes knocking as he pulls away, stealing one last moment before he turns away from you and goes toward Vhagar, leaving you stranded where you stand unable to do anything but watch him reach his old dragon and scale her.

Once Aemond has mounted her he looks down at you from his saddle and flashes you a confident smirk, causing you to pass him a sweet smile in return and let it linger until he looks ahead and you’re no longer reflected in his eye.

Yet it’s only once Vhagar has taken to the skies that you pick up Blackfyre and turn to Alys.

“I know where we can watch the fight,” she says first as you can’t find any words to say, not at that moment. You find your breath and the ability to form words, but you don’t actually share them because you’re going to ask how this fight is going to end and she will give you the answer one way or the other, and you don't want to know so you remain speechless and follow her to the highest tower Harrenhal has.

A tower so high it almost touches the clouds, the wind is sharp and bitter, the lake looks like a glimmering sheet, and the view of both dragon and Dragonriders is clear. So clear and so close in fact it’s like you’re almost on top of your own dragon and there with them in battle.

Yet the distinction is clear right away when the first attack is given by Caraxes as he barrels down on Vhagar and Aemond, sinking his sharp teeth in her neck, and you not being able to do anything to help. You forcefully stand there frozen in shock and your breath stolen as if you had been hit yourself when you see the force Caraxes uses to slam into Vhagar.

Thankfully, the dragons are the only ones harmed, filling the air with their sharp and pained shrieks, and exchanging gashes with their piercing claws. Despite not wearing armor, Aemond is still unharmed and secured on Vhagar, making you fully and blindly lean towards believing him and believing that what you heard was false. It’s just not so foolish now, is it? Even though Caraxes refuses to loosen his jaw around Vhagar’s neck, your spirits are high because Vhagar is bigger, fierce, and battle-hardened.

The she-dragon jabs her claws in Caraxes’ flesh, making the dragon breathe out fire in hopes of burning her enough to stop, but she mirrors his blast and their fires paint the sky like an unsettling fiery storm. All whilst not burning any rider, but letting you and Alys feel heat waves crashing over you again and again until Vhagar shrieks so loud and so full of pain that it almost feels like the stones that make the tower shake beneath your feet.

And since both dragons are barreling towards the God’s Eye, you press your hands on the stone railing and lean over to look down as they sink down faster, letting you catch the way Caraxes’ teeth sink deeper in Vhagar’s flesh, pulling out a stream of blood from every wound.

In retaliation, the green beast only sinks her claws deeper into Caraxes’ belly and this time manages to slash his belly open. She then chomps down on Caraxes’ shoulder and tears away his wing, filling you with an urgency to see Aemond act against Daemon, or attempt something to strike the man down. Albeit both dragons are falling too fast, and neither of them attempt or can get away from each other just enough to gain more momentum. They’re falling fast and taking their riders with them.

Or so that’s what it seemed like because from one moment to the next you catch a glint against Daemon’s shining armor as he moves. Yes, Daemon sits up and swings one foot over his saddle, all while unsheathing his sword from his hip.

You part your lips to warn Aemond, to tell him to try something to escape the man’s wrath, but all you can do is draw in a sharp and shaky breath. The horror that hits you leaves you mute and keeps your breath, hostage, as you watch Aemond release one of his restraints to attempt to move away as he catches what Daemon is going to do.

Alas even as Aemond is on his last restraint, his attempts are futile, Daemon jumps off his dying dragon nearing the lake at a great speed, and gravity pulls him down to Aemond’s own saddle at a quick speed, causing your eyes to widen with despair and terror. Yet not a single word or breath continues to come out of you. You remain frozen and hopeful. You believe.

You have to believe in some miracle because Aemond is strong. He is skillful. He is smart. He can fight Daemon’s wild actions. You believe and believe with all your might. With all of you.

However, no matter what, or how much you plead, you witness Daemon swing his arm back before he pierces Dark Sister through Aemond’s remaining eye so hard, and so fast that the point rams out the other side, striking your hope and riddling you with shock and horror. You try to cry out his name, but a blood-curdling cry leaves your gaping mouth. And when the dragons at last slam into the water, your soul and those remaining fragments of your heart shatter.

Alys reaches out for you, she grabs your shoulder and tries to turn you around as she calls your name so you can calm down. Not for you but for the babies, but you’re so shocked by the scene you were just a witness that your first instinct is to refuse to accept the facts. Thus you push her away and run.

You run down the flight of stairs with your blood pumping wildly in your veins, leaving you unable to hear anything but the rushing blood, and leaving you unable to see a thing but what is right directly in front of you.

You’re so driven by your refusal to accept what you saw that your way to the lake is a blur. All that occupies your mind is Aemond. Aemond. Aemond, and Aemond.

He’s going to be okay. He’s alive. He’s alive. He’ll be okay. He promised. He promised. He swore!

Please, please, please…

Your feet hit the water and you snap out of your stupor to search the blood-tainted waters for any sign of Aemond either trying to swim away or still clung to his saddle. You don’t bother to keep an eye out for Daemon, you forget about his existence as you slosh through the bloody water.

“Aemond!” You cry out. “Aemond!”

A hand clutches your shoulder so you snap around swiftly but you’re greeted with Alys’ green eyes.

“No,” you mutter as you recognize that it’s not who you’re looking for. “No.”

“Stop, you can’t go any deeper. Daemon,” she pauses and you catch tears brimming in her eyes. “And Aemond are dead,” she says to try and make you come to terms with the truth, but you’re ignorant to the truth and angry that she would dare and make such a horrible claim. “There was no surviving that strike. And there’s no surviving that fall. They’re gone. They’re dead. Now come on, it’s not good for you or for—”

“I don’t care!” You yell back and slap her hand off you. “I don’t care!”

You turn back around and continue to trudge through the water which becomes heavier and heavier to manage as you go in deeper.

“Aemond!” You cry out. “Aemond…please…” you trail off into a broken whisper and come to a stop as the water hits your chest.

“Aemond!” You call out and search the waters, every perimeter that you can see, but dragon remains are all that float on the surface.

Yet even then you cling onto hope and wait, wait, and wait some more in hopes he’ll descend from the bloody waters and come to you to prove that he fulfilled his promise to you so as to not leave you alone in this cruel world.

He can’t leave you alone. He’s going to…survive so you wait to avoid feeling the sea of pain you’re holding back.

Eventually, the water once boiling by the steam coming from the dragon's blood is cool, and your body starts to shiver since you are not immune to the cold like you are to the fire and the heat’s touch, but still, you wait and avoid the truth, believing Aemond will rise from the depths of the water.

Alys continues trying to pull you away but again you push away her attempts. It’s not until you’re forcefully turned around and facing…Addam that you start to return to reality.

“A-Addam?” You call out in disbelief and raise your hands wrinkled by the water to touch his face and prove to yourself that he is in fact here, holding you. “Addam, wh-what are you…”

“I will tell you later, you just need to get out of the water. You’re freezing and shivering.” He scolds you and starts pulling you. You move with him but then stop and look back at the gruesome scene sinking in the water.

“But…” you trail off as you slowly start to grasp onto truth. “Aemond,” you breathe out and start to gape like a fish out of water as the truth starts to seep through.

“Oh,” you gasp and flashes of Daemon piercing his sword in Aemond’s skull and killing him at that instant passes through your head, making the undeniable slap you in the face.

“No,” you quiver and let Addam go to turn and face the remains sinking in the water. “Aemond,” your voice trembles, and your chest clenches, it hurts. Your entire being hurts. It all hurts.

“No, no, no…” you trail off and lose balance, but luckily Addam catches you and pulls you up. When you meet his eyes that look at you with pity all those emotions that you were pushing back burst through all the barriers you put up and flood your system, filling you with agonizing pain that starts from your chest and spreads like waves all throughout, shattering everything you are, what little you held onto, and leaving nothing but a sad little husk of your body. That’s what it did, Aemond’s death left nothing but a shell that’s riddled with the memory of pain. And all you can do is cry out, filling the cold air with your heartbroken wail.

“Come on,” Addam tries to lure you out of the water. He grabs your arm to drag you out, but you fall limp and your knees hit the lake floor.

“I can’t. I can’t,” you repeat and shake your head. “No. He promised. He promised me. He has to come back.”

Addam looks at Alys but she couldn’t even break through your stupor so she lets Addam continue to help.

“He’s gone, okay?”

You weep at the sound of his words and he hisses as he realizes his mistake.

“He has to come back to me,” you cry. “He has to. He promised. I love him. I can’t leave him here alone.”

“I know, I know,” Addam mutters and grabs your face so you have no other option but to look him in the eyes. “I hear you, but listen, he’s gone. He’s not coming back. But you. You’re breathing and your babes, his babes, they need you alive. All of them. Would he want you to die here?”

You shake your head as your falling streams of tears add to the lake's body. “I love him,” you mumble. “Please.”

Addam frowns and takes a deep breath without adding anything because what is there to add that you haven’t heard?

Yet his silence still pierces like a thousand swords and you’re riddled with more agony. “It hurts,” you weep. “It hurts.”

Addam nods. “I know. I know, now come on. Let’s get inside please.”

You look out to the water one more time in hopes you’ll see a glimpse of Aemond, but once again, you’re met with nothing, so you’re left doing as Addam says.

——

*LATER*

There below your feet lays a material you easily sink into. It’s grainy and soft, but when you lower your head to identify what you stand on, there’s more of the same darkness that consumes the entire empty hall you solely occupy.

You try to strain your eyes. You squint to catch a glimpse of anything that might clue you into where you are, but it’s like you stand in a void. Yet it’s not a deafening void. You’re not surrounded by silence, in the shadows that surround you, you hear someone humming a song. You just can’t pinpoint who it is you hear, but you hear the humming coming from the end of the hall.

“Who’s there?” You ask the void and step forward, but the moment you do, you’re startled when you catch something from the corner of your right eye light on fire. Something grand that finally illuminates your side with light, and when you quickly snap your head in that direction, you come to an immediate halt when you see that it’s a body set ablaze. But who’s?

You can’t tell. You can’t identify who they are, just that it’s a body. And they’re not the only ones, five more bodies are set ablaze around you, blinding you instantly, but finally providing a bright light with their hot fires that consume away the darkness.

When your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness that broke in the hall, the first thing you catch is what you stand on. At long last your curiosity is fed when you see that you stand on ashes. What are the ashes in particular?

You don’t know, you won’t, and the truth is you don’t want to know. You happily leave that as a mystery to not strain your withered self and instead drift your attention to a bloody set of footprints staining the stone ground.

They seem to lead forward, so you try to follow them with your eyes, but as your eyes scale to the next set of footprints, suddenly those too are set ablaze and light a path that your eyes follow down the room, letting you finally figure out that you don’t stand in some desolate void. You finally lift your head with the intent to watch the blazing path and see that you’re standing in the middle of the Red Keep’s throne room, but that’s not all. At the foot of the stairs that lead to the Iron Throne sits an abandoned wooden throne.

No one before, and no one that you know has used a wooden throne. Not even your grandfather Viserys. There’s no need for it when the great throne is standing behind it in all its glory. Why is it there?

That’s a question you do want to feed an answer to, but alas, as you mindlessly walk down the blazing path guiding you ahead and setting the ends of your gown on fire, that wooden throne is also sustenance to the great fire. Its ravenous flames quickly swallow the wooden throne whole, making you stop in your tracks and look at it with more confusion. What does this all mean? Why are you here surrounded by fire?

You need to know, yet more questions infiltrate your mind when you catch that someone is sitting on the Iron Throne. You can see the soles of their bloody feet hanging down from the great throne. They’re the ones who are filling the hall with their humming. Can it be? Only one person comes to mind when you think of someone sitting on that throne.

“Mother?” You call out in the burning hall, and the humming at last comes to a stop.

You slowly scale your eyes up the throne to look at her in the eyes, but when your eyes land on the face of the person sitting on the throne, you gasp and stumble back when you see that…it’s you.

You’re sitting in that throne room with your blood-covered hands lazily hanging off the armrests and carrying something hidden in the shadows.

You sit there comfortably with a scowl on your blood-stained face. You sit there with your nose in the air, and your gleaming eyes reflecting the fires that surround the hall and stand between you on the floor and you on the throne. You sit there with a chainmail veil hanging off your head dripping blood on your cheeks, making it look like you’re crying blood. You sit there…it’s you that’s reflected in your eyes. And the person sitting on the throne at last acknowledges you standing baffled on the floor and begins to lift their bloody hand, pointing Aegon the Conqueror's blood-dripping crown at you.

You don’t tell yourself anything, you just menacingly point the blood-dripping crown at yourself, causing your breath to hitch and your widened eyes to stay focused on the crown.

There’s so much you could say, but there’s no words you can actually form and voice. You stand in stunned silence until you blink as your eyes go dry with how long you were staring without blinking, and you’re ripped away from the incredibly confusing scene and brought back to a firelit hall in Harrenhal, watching Blackfyre glimmer against the fire warming the hall.

Now you should go mad with confusion, you should be shocked and demanding to know what it is that happened, but alas you’re at Harrenhal, there’s only one explanation to what you just saw, so you at last lift your eyes off the sword and look the culprit right in their green eyes.

It was Alys. There’s no question about it. There’s no need for reassurance, she passes you a faint knowing smile, and with that gesture alone you know it was her that let you see that vision. As for why? She won’t say, no matter how much you ask. You have to figure out the meaning by yourself or wait for a version of that vision to come to life because it is coming. As to when well that will come to you soon enough.

“How are you liking the Riverlands, Addam?” You hear Alys probe.

“Well they're…wet,” he says lightheartedly with a small chuckle. “I have been here for fourteen days and I have never seen more rain in my life than I do here. How do you do it?”

“When you live here as long as I have, you grew to miss when it’s not raining,” Alys says back. “So is it safe to say you would not find a home here?”

Addam scoffs. “No, no. Perhaps visit once in a while, but no. I’d miss the sea, and the sun.”

Alys laughs softly and then adds something aimed to make you interject. “You and her are the same, just like cats, only prowling when the sun is out of hiding.”

You give no reaction, you don’t even acknowledge her or anything besides. If Addam and you weren't by the fireplace neither he nor Alys would be able to tell that you exist in the hall, you blend in with the silence and the stillness of the room as you remain too grief-stricken to speak or move a muscle. You just keep looking at the Valyrian sword that you hold against the floor as if it carries some kind of hope that you will be able to see the man you lost one more time.

“Here,” a whisper captures your attention but doesn’t make you move to look at it, you remain frozen until a bowl is placed above the handle you keep clutched—“It’s warm, and Alys says it’s your favorite stew of hers.”

You blink and look over at Addam now sitting beside you, his gaze not riddled with worry, but an attempt at reassurance with his eyes soft and only focused on you.

“Eat please,” he insists gently whilst he slides his hand down to wrap it around yours and give it a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t say anything, he just offers you a comforting smile before he pulls his hand away and remains in his new seat. You then take this stolen moment to really look at him and finally come back to that question he never answered before; why is he here?

“Addam, what are you doing here?” Your voice is hoarse as you finally find a reason to make yourself present.

Albeit he doesn’t answer right away, he looks at you and his lightheartedness fades but only for a flickering second because he then offers you the same assuring smile.

“How about I tell you tomorrow when you’ve rested okay?” He offers

You immediately shake your head and press him, finding the motivation to focus on something else besides your grief. “No, I’m leaving today. Tell me now.”

Addam’s face falls completely and he then shares a concerned look with Alys before he shifts in his seat and clears his throat, watching you scoop a spoonful of your food before he gives you what you asked for.

“Well…I’m here at Harrenhal because I heard the fight from the Isle of Faces, and when Seasmoke and I went to check we saw Caraxes and Vhagar…”

You swallow back thickly as you physically react to the name that reminds you of Aemond.

“…crashing in the lake. I didn’t know if Daemon was alive, he might have been and he might have needed my help, so I came and that’s when I saw you.” He shares but that only answers part of the question.

“Okay,” you drag out as you nod your head and take another bite of food, taking your time to chew and think about what he did give you before you swallow and follow up with more. “But what were you doing in the Riverlands in the first place? Why were you at the Isle of Faces? You’re meant to be home with the Queen. Are Ser Hugh and Ser Ulf back? Is Daeron dead?”

Addam blinks and glances down, shaking his head just slightly before he answers verbally. “No, and no…Ulf and Hugh never returned,” he pauses and he looks back at you with a slightly angry look, but mostly his face is contorted with distress. He then says your name and reveals what you didn’t know because you were with Aemond in a hut for fourteen days.

“Hugh and Ulf betrayed Queen Rhaenyra. They betrayed our side and instead aided Team Green in taking Tumbleton.”

You shake your head, but not because it’s unbelievable. You can’t be shocked over something that was expected. You’re just caught in disbelief because it happened and you weren’t there for your mother. It happened and you weren’t there to help her deal with that aftermath or a plan for a counterattack.

“The Queen was so struck by the news that she also suspected me of being a traitor,” he keeps sharing and this time the news is starting to sound unbelievable—“She sent guards to take me for questioning and arrest me, but Lord Corlys warned me just in time to escape,” he says with more of a droop of emotions in his voice. “That’s why I’m here in the Riverlands because I ran, but,” he presses with more stress and his eyes wide and desperate. “I did not scheme with them. I did not betray your mother or our side. I didn’t know what they had in mind. You have to believe me.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, making him believe that you also believe he was in cahoots with the other two, but that’s far from the truth, that doesn’t cross your mind whatsoever. You’re just going through the disbelief in your mind about your mother succumbing to panic and pointing fingers so quickly when other times she would hang onto the hope that he wasn’t like the other two. You have to wonder what she thinks of you now, and what made her turn her back on Addam so easily.

Moreover, with what you know now a more urgent need to leave Harrenhal to do what you need to do grows within you.

“I believe you,” you assure Addam as you wrap your hand around his arm to give it a comforting squeeze, hearing him sigh with relief as he offers you a relieved smile.

“I know you wouldn’t do that. It’s unfortunate that we lost Vermithor and Silverwing though. Alys,” you drift your attention to her poking the fire. “Do you know the casualties?”

“The Rivermen and the Northnermen took a heavy loss. It was a bloody battle, your numbers were depleted when the two dragonriders turned their cloaks,” she shares without hesitation, making you tighten your grip around Addam’s arm out of concern that begins to gnaw at your chest—“That’s all I know.”

You have the need to ask about…Cregan. He barges into your mind, but if he were gone she would have told you, no?

He must be okay.

“That only means that Daeron and his army are closer to King's Landing, and with three dragons, victory is on their side,” you mutter with growing frustration.

“We need to join the Rivermen and the Northnermen,” Addam cuts in, catching you by surprise. You would assume he would pressure you to return home where you’re not exposed to high threats, but you heard him right, he said ‘we’.

“We need to rebuild the armies and counterattack before the Greens make a move on Kings Landing,” he finishes with confidence rising with each word.

“We do?” You press him and he then turns his head and meets your gaze with a hint of hesitation before he sits up and nods confidently.

“We do. The Green men advised me toward taking that path,” he shares, making you look over at Alys to ask for confirmation as if she was a part of that conversation, but she just shrugs and turns away with her hair swiftly turning with her.

“They,” Addam pauses and when you return your attention to him his eyes dig deep in your soul with a sense of fascination. “…they put my hand against a Heart Tree and that’s where I saw you as clear as day bathing in fire without getting hurt. You were a part of its power. You were the fire that brought destruction to Tumbleton.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief but don’t dare question him or his vision. You are going to ask about the Green men, but not now. Right now you are going to back his decision.

“Good. I wasn’t going to return home either, I need to make it right for my mother,” you say as you hold his gaze with the same fiery determination that now inflames your kindred souls. “We leave today.”

Addam reacts with hesitation this time and pulls back to question you. “Are you sure? I'm sure the army won’t move with the losses they took. We can meet up with them tomorrow morning.”

You shake your head and turn around to face the fire and continue eating. “No, we leave today. I don’t want to stay here longer than I have to.”

Not because of Alys. You wish you could spend more time with her, but alas there’s things you have to do and now this place will forever be a reminder of the loss of your life. Aemond will haunt you here, and you can’t just sit and think about how he was ripped away from you or you’ll cease to exist. That’s why you’re leaving today. That’s why you need to join Cregan today…at long last you will at last reunite.

The mere thought revives something within you. Something you thought was lost.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- 👀

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber

[lowkeyrobin]

Could I request, what dating sparrow!ben hargreeves would be living a peaceful life possible after season 4 (let’s pretend like it never happened) preference or one shot (you decide)

Peaceful life- like the plans he said to Jennifer in the car, moving away, etcetera

P.s I loveeeeeee your tua and descendants writing keep up the amazing work 🫶🏻🫶🏻



aweee stop this is so cute 💔💔💔 ; also yes went for hc cause no way am I figuring out how to oneshot that shit ; also thank you 🫶🫶 I appreciate it lol ; also if there's supposed to be an anon emoji down there I can't see it 💀💀 it's just an [obj] box, prob cause I have an android and we don't have the same emojis as iphones n shit lmao ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; ps idk why I couldn't find that scene so I just kinda made some shit up lmfao

SPARROW! BEN ; runaways

summary ; your perfect life after running away with Ben except it doesn't end the world

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; no jail time for Ben / no s4 at all ig, reader isn't a brellie but refers to them as siblings + as kind of like an add on to them like lila

word count ; 363

masterlist

you and ben, after falling in love during the s3 era, decided you should just run away together

he'd taken a fond liking of you considering you were both so oddly peaceful when it came to just the two of you

the wedding at the end of the world really solidified it

and then you made out!

but after resetting the timeline and losing your powers, there was nothing to really stick around for

considering you wiped out all the marigold and sloane had disappeared (considering she would've never been born or was erased somehow) and your siblings had all gone off to live their lives, it was time you did too

you only knew Ben for like two weeks before you actually fell for each other so learning about one another was really fun

you packed up your bags (or what remained of them) and headed to wherever the back roads could take you

in the car you learned about each other's music taste and your hobbies, and all the sights you wanted to see around the world

the road took you to south carolina

you stayed on the beach for a week and it was honestly really nice

thank god you were able to steal thousands from sparrow-reggies secret stash lol

there you discovered Ben's hatred for water...

but after a week or so you packed up again and headed west

you drove around the country for about three years just sightseeing and living the most you could considering the two of you never really saw anything outside of home

but after a while, you had to settle down somewhere and make a proper life for yourselves

you both craved to be normal people, to pay bills and taxes and hold down jobs, maybe even make a family, as fucked as it was

I mean, trillionaires son moves to the middle of nowhere to live like a normal person? kinda crazy

you built a house on some old farmland on the outskirts of a little town, surrounded by forest and acres of empty land

you call around the family every once in a while, wanting to know how they're doing and what they're up to

ben couldn't really care tho, he only rlly cares for you, the others weirded him out

you couldn't blame him tho since he barely knew them and they knew a different version of him

when you're on the phone, head tilted as both hands are occupied by biscuit mix that you were mixing up, he stands by you with a soft smile on his face, helping you morph them into balls and put them on the tray

think a 90s type of house, very brown, window seats, etc

you live such a sweet ass life man

you sit on the front porch swing and drink coffee while you watch the sunrise

and in winter you cuddle up by the fireplace and watch shitty hallmark movies

you even started a YouTube channel for shits and giggles where you watch awful movies on cable TV and commentate over them because it's funny

you have a calico cat named sorbet

you have a strawberry garden in the backyard that surrounds the porch

and you go out to eat every friday

so many hugs from behind from the other when one is cooking

sweet kisses on the temple as well

so cavity causing sweet

[theanimeroom]

about the NNN challenge

Could you do something Mikey? something like teasing him a lot and making fun of him, I think he wouldn't want to lose but at the end of the day everyone knows that Mikey is a brat.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT | MINORS DNI

NOVEMBER 20TH, 2023 - 4:30AM

NNN CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

okay, now depending on which manjiro sano we're talking about, his chances of winning and losing vary. but regardless of which mikey we're talking about, he still lost so it doesn't matter anyway.

manjiro had always been a stressed person, everyone knew that. he held the weight of the world on his shoulders alone, but you were always his lifeline when things got too much. some would say that mikey was a bit too reliant on you, but both you and mikey would beg to differ.

you were exactly what he needed. the drug that made him sane when his thoughts started to spiral. you kept him from doing things that he shouldn't, and always provided him with the peace and calmness that he needed after a long day.

despite how it may have looked, being the leader of a gang was no easy job. there were constant meetings and he always had to keep an eye over his shoulder because everyone wanted what he had. keeping everything in order became taxing every once in a while, and when his life started to feel like it was growing mundane, when his headspace started to slip just a bit, that's when he turned to you.

mikey didn't understand why you'd been silly enough to suggest playing the game in the first place, a curt "no" leaving him before going back to the work at hand. that didn't deter you though, pouting as you grabbed at his arms.

"c'mon, please?" you begged, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. mikey only sighed at you, not even bothering to turn his gaze as he continued working. ever stubborn, you leaned down until your head full of hair was covering the screen. the blonde was left with no other choice than to peer up at you, agitation clear in his face. "it'll be fun!"

he wasn't sure what your definition of fun was, but the way you looked so excitedly at him made him forget that this idea was a really stupid one.

but there was no one more stupid than him, for actually listening to you.

keeping himself at bay when you looked the way you did was hard enough, but when he added on the daily stresses of his job? he wasn't sure what you were expecting out of him honestly.

he wasn't sure what he was expecting out of you either, really.

if there was one thing about you, you were just as horny as manjiro was. you'd only done a day or two at most without climbing the man like a tree, so holding out during the challenge was going to be just as hard for you as it was for him.

that statement proved to be true when the end of the month started to approach, both you and manjiro growing more impatient by the day. it had gotten to the point where you were waking up with slick covering the inside of your thighs, desperate and needy for his attention. one particular day, a toman meeting that didn’t go as planned was his final straw.

you knew something had happened the moment your front door slammed roughly, your eyebrows furrowing as the sound of keys being thrown caught your attention. you were standing in the kitchen, slaving over the stove to distract yourself from the aching between your legs. before you could even call for him his figure was appearing in the doorway, legs taking long strides toward you.

his blonde hair was tousled, clearly due to one too many pass through’s with his fingers. his jaw was clenched, knuckles nearly white with his hands balled into little fists as he bum rushed you at the stove.

“hey mikey, what’s wron-mmph!”

you were barely able to get the words out before his lips were devouring yours, hands reaching for your lower back. a strangled moan slipped past you as your back touched the cold surface of the kitchen counter, fingers wrapping around the mans biceps. a heavy sigh escaped you when his lips started to pepper kisses down your neck, your body jerking with every touch.

“w-wait… ” you breathe, the throbbing between your legs leaving your mind fuzzy. your eyes made contact with the stove that was still heating up, waiting for the pot of noodles that you were planning on making before mikey had returned. “i was cooking…”

the man attached to you paused before turning his head, eyes making contact with the red light on the stove before turning back to you. truthfully, he hadn’t even noticed the meal prep that you’d done until just now, but it wasn’t going to stop him from getting what he wanted, so he came up with another idea.

“pay attention baby, or you’ll hurt yourself,” mikey cooed, grinning from behind you as he watched you struggle to keep your eyes open. your hands held onto the sides of the pot, grip tight as your cunt milked him dry. your stomach was tight as you tried to keep an eye on the boiling water, orgasm teetering on the edge.

curses slipped past your lips with every stroke, mikey’s cock hitting all the right spots that made you see stars. a quiet fuck from behind you sent your hips reeling backwards, yearning to hear more of his voice.

the food you were supposed to be making quickly disappeared from your mind as you fucked yourself back on him, whining as you forced him as deep as he could go.

mikey chuckled as you pouted slightly, a face you always made when you weren’t getting fucked the way you wanted to be. leaning forward, his lips pressed against your ear, voice low as he moved some of your hair out of the way. “you want it?”

you’d barely made out what was being said before you were nodding your head frantically, small pleas escaping you as you tried to find the release you were searching for. a hand around your jaw made your breath hitch, head turning to make eye contact with mikey. his expression was teasing, a smile painted across his face. “speak.”

your gaze glazed over, only the shell of a human who used to have dignity being left. your eyebrows furrowed together as you forced the words past your tongue. “yes sir, i want it.”

mikey couldn’t help the way his cock throbbed inside of you, eyes rolling at the fucked out expression you were making. you didn’t even have time to register what was happening before his hips were slamming against your ass, a rattled squeak slipping past you while your hands found purchase on the edge of the counter.

you could barely keep your cries of pleasure in check, your balance unsteady as a rough hand wrapped around your midriff. mikey applied pressure until you were nearly levitating, only the tips of your toes still being attached to the kitchen floor.

“mikey-!” your voice caught in your throat as he fucked you mercilessly, hips pounding into your ass as if his life depended on it. short moans escaped you, your legs quivering as you felt the knot in your stomach trying to give way. “fuck…fuck please i’m gonna come baby…”

a small laugh reverberated behind you, a warm hand reaching to squeeze one of your breast. “yeah? you know what to do princess,”

your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt a flick to your clit, back arching so hard you could feel the muscles straining. “please let me come! please i’m begging you…”

mikey hummed in faux contemplation, slowing his thrust for a split second before he was right back at it, hips angled in just the right spot while the pads of his fingers rubs circles into your sensitive bud. if it wasn’t a scream that left your mouth, it was as close as you could get to one.

spots started to form behind your eyelids, fingers gripping the counter as hard as you could. you felt the blonde behind you press against your back as your orgasm ran through you, his body heat only making your head spin more than it already was.

as your high started to come down his pace never slowed, a rough hand around the back of your neck making you realize that he’d been speaking to you the whole time.

“you here baby?” he teased, feeling his smile against the shell of your ear. “gonna let go of this stupid challenge now?”

you’ve never your head nodded so hard.

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But sometimes, you just need a little bit of love... and a little bit of science.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum

Chapter 24

[Prev] [Next]

The first blood test was positive.  And then the second one a week after that.  So were the three at-home pregnancy tests you took.  You’d be remiss to deny the fact that your breasts had been so unbelievably sore, so painful in fact that the days you spent home from work had you completely rejecting the very idea of wearing a bra.  Still trying not to get your hopes up, you kept your symptoms to yourself and to Law (who was very disappointed at the fact that hugging you in the front had become painful).  

And now, two full weeks after your first blood test, you were sitting with Penguin at a table outside a cafe.  A large umbrella was open above you, shielding you from the sun as you anxiously tapped your fingers on the metal table, waiting for the call from your doctor.

Your anxiety was practically oozing out of you like sludge, and it was definitely affecting Penguin.  He took off his hat and rubbed the back of his palm over his forehead, crinkling his nose.  “Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t know how to do CPR.”

You rested your head in your palm, placing your phone screen-down on the table.  “I promise I won’t.  I’m sorry for being such a bummer, I know you were looking forward to lunch today.”

Your friend waved his hand in the air reassuringly after putting his hat back on his head.  His black hair had begun receding recently, and he’d been covering his hairline more than he usually had.  “Nah, don’t sweat it.  I just want to make sure you’re alright, that’s all.”  When he finished his sentence, he pushed your glass of melting ice water closer to you.  You chuckled, grabbing the glass and taking a long sip out of the straw.

“So what’s your schedule like, anyway?” he asked, poking through the small cafe menu.  “Like, if this next test comes back positive, then what?”

You resisted the urge to check your phone once more.  “If this one comes back positive, I’ll have another blood test in a week.  And then if that one shows normal signs of progression, I’ll continue to have them done weekly.  I’m not sure how long that will last, but I’m getting kinda tired of seeing my blood in tiny plastic tubes.”

Penguin snorted.  “They probably have enough of your blood to keep someone alive at this point.”

“They should give it back to me,” you joked, taking another generous sip of your water.

The man across from you closed his small paper menu, having decided what he was going to order when the waitress came back.  “So how’s Law been doing?  I feel like I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

You grinned at the question.  “He’s been alright, he’s been pretty stressed too over this, but I think he’s been able to distract himself with his shifts at the hospital.  He’s been working more since he got home from his trip, I think he’s trying to make up for being gone for a week.”

Penguin laughed.  “Sounds like him, alright.”  He rested his own head in his hand.  “If you really are pregnant, and everything is going normally, do you think he’ll take more time off?”

A sigh left your lips.  “It’s wishful thinking, but I honestly doubt it.  And it’s not his fault, he just works a really time-consuming and taxing job.  It’s hard for both of us, but when he is home he makes all the time in the world for me.  And because he has such long working days, sometimes he gets multiple days off in a row, which is nice.”

“That’ll be nice for the baby, too,” Penguin added.

Your heart swelled at the thought.  Ever since having your eggs implanted, your mind had been melting with thoughts of Law’s paternal side coming out.  You couldn’t wait to see the way he’d hold his child, kissing their forehead, cleaning them in a tiny baby bathtub, singing to them as they fell asleep even though he hated being heard singing by anyone.  The mere thoughts made your thighs clench.  Some hormonal instinct in you to see your man become a father, you guessed.

“It would be nice,” you added, your voice airy.  It was like you were floating on a blissful cloud.

Penguin laughed at the sight.  “God, you’re smitten.  It’s fucking adorable.”

You hid your face in your hands to mask your embarrassment, making your friend bark out a laugh at your sorry state.  The waitress returned in due time, taking your small orders before leaving again with your menus.  You were starting to have deja vu from your brunch with Ikkaku before your second miscarriage.

The thought of your own best friend gave you a thought.

“Hey, so I have a question for you,” you blurted, attracting his attention.

He took a sip of his own water and gazed at you through his narrow brown eyes.

“Have you told Shachi that you like him yet, or are you two ‘still just roommates’?” you asked, holding up your fingers in air quotes to punctuate your words.

The statement made Penguin groan as he pulled his hat further down onto his head, hiding his eyes with a thick shadow.  “No.  I don’t know what he’ll say.”

You smiled sympathetically at the man.  You, Law, and Ikkaku had been rooting for Penguin ever since he broke up with your best friend after your college graduation with your bachelor’s degrees, realizing he was gay the entire time.  The terms were mutual, as Ikkaku began dating a woman soon after, but Penguin moved in with Shachi and was convinced he’d never find love after finding himself so late in life.  But then he fell for Shachi… and fell hard.

“I guess I’m just worried that things will be too awkward if I tell him now that we’ve been living together as roommates for, like, five years,” he explained.  “I’m already paying half of the rent.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” you began.  “Shachi’s been talking about you a lot more.  Like, a lot.”

Penguin picked his head up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.  “Really?”

You nodded.  “I wouldn’t lie to you about love, Pen, you know me.”

The man across from you leaned back in his chair.  “What if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then you talk it out like adults and continue being roommates,” you stated.  “Simple.  Easy-peasy.”

“You make it sound easier than it looks,” he grumbled, but a small smile lay on his lips.  “You and Law had it easy.”

“Bullshit.  Law hated me when we first met.”

The memory made the two of you chuckle.  Law’s unwillingness to open up, how it took him almost an entire year to admit that he could possibly be in love, and be in love with you, the snarky graphic design student who infiltrated his gen ed study group.

And now here you were, a wedding ring on your left hand and hoping so desperately for a child with him.

Penguin was grinning widely at you, making you falter.  “What’s got you smiling so wide?”

Your friend dropped his hand.  “Just thinking about how proud I am of you two.”

Before you had the chance to reply, or even register your heart doing somersaults in your chest, your phone began vibrating on the table.  You snatched it up with the speed of a falcon diving for a mouse, your eyes growing wide at the number on the screen.  The lab.  Penguin knew without you even having to speak.

“Hello?” you asked wearily into the receiver.

[Hello, is this Mrs. Trafalgar?  This is Nurse Nojiko from the outpatient laboratory.]

You nodded to no one in particular.  “Yes, this is her.”

[Perfect, I wanted to inform you that the results of your test have come back positive!  I have updated your patient portal with the information, and you should be receiving a call from your doctor within the next day or so.]

Your heart swelled.  “Th-Thank you so much!”

[Of course, hun, have a great rest of your day, alright?]

You promptly shared your goodbyes before you tapped the end call button, placing your device back down on the table.  Your wide eyes darted up to meet Penguin’s.  He was already smiling.

“Positive?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

“Positive,” you confirmed.

He had absolutely no care in the world if he caused a scene.  He bolted upright from his chair and dragged you out of your’s, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that made you stifle a yelp due to the pressure on your chest.  

You frantically whispered into his ear.  “Penguin, my boobs hurt like shit.”

“Crap,” he pulled away from you, holding your shoulders.  “I’m sorry!”

You were giggling as you had to resist the urge to fondle your breasts in public, trying to get the pain to die down based on willpower alone.  “It’s okay, they’ve been really sore lately.”

“Is that a symptom of pregnancy?” he asked, sitting back in his chair.

You pursed your lips for a moment.  “I think so, but I’m still trying not to get my hopes up.  The last two times, they never got as sore as they are now.”

Penguin flashed a toothy grin.  “I’m considering that a win.”

You smiled to yourself, still fighting the anxious pang in your heart.  You grabbed your phone once more to send Law a text message.  He was scheduled for a very large and very taxing surgery for the day, so you were sure he wouldn’t respond until much later, but you eagerly sent the text anyway.

Hi baby, im out for lunch with Peng.  The fifth test came back positive, i just got the call!!!  Im still going to lay low for a bit because my tits hurt for shit.  I love you, i’ll call you if anything urgent comes up but dont feel pressured to respond if youre busy!  I love you again!!!  Love you!!!!

—

Law’s circulating nurse had his passcode memorized at this point.  When his phone buzzed in her pocket, he simply gave her permission to check it with a curt nod, barely tearing his eyes away from the open chest cavity in front of him.

The anesthesiologist beside the patient saw the way the nurse’s eyes lit up while reading whatever message had come through.  “What does it say?”

“Doctor,” she began, her smile reaching her ears.  “Your wife’s fifth test came back positive.”

The entire operating room buzzed with muted excitement at the news, keeping their attention focused on the patient, but clearly radiating with optimism.  Law had been keeping his team up-to-date with his progress on what his nurses called ‘The Kid Conundrum,’ and seeing his entire crew quietly celebrate over the news of your latest positive test made a smile crawl to his lips below his surgical mask.

“Attention on the patient,” he stated.

The entire team could hear the broad smile in his voice.

—

Seven positive pregnancy tests, and almost eight weeks since your implantation day.  You and Law were in a different ultrasound room in a different clinic, due to Robin being out of office for the week with her husband (a thought that made Law cower).  You were laying on the cold, unfamiliar table as Law sat across the room from you, the usual set up.  He had the entire week off of work, which he had been spending glued to your side.  Your symptoms had been fairly taxing lately, your breasts being more tender than they had ever been.  You had even started swelling somewhat in your lower belly, but partnered with general morning discomfort, you chalked it up to regular pregnancy bloating.

Not that you were complaining about any of the symptoms.  If anything, they were relieving.  Signs that you were actually pregnant… with a living fetus.

You stared at the ceiling as the gel was smeared on your belly and as the sound of the ultrasound machine whirred to life.  The technician doing your scan was sitting on a swiveling stool as she worked, another nurse behind her to help assess your condition.

“So how many weeks along does your doctor think you are?” she asked, keeping her eyes glued to the screen as she pressed the transducer to your skin, locating your uterus.

“About eight weeks or so, I think,” you replied.

She nodded, going silent as she rubbed the wand over your belly.  She adjusted it slightly, then moved it again.  The nurse behind her appeared to lean in toward the screen, her eyes growing wide.

Their silence made your heart rate begin to pick up.

“You said you had IVF, right?” she asked.

Growing even more anxious, you nodded against the pillow behind your head.  “Yes… that’s correct.”

Law leaned over in his chair to try to get a glimpse of the monitor screen.

The wand was moved over your skin a few extra times before the nurse reached up and turned the monitor toward you.  Her finger hovered over your uterus.  “Do you see that?”

You gazed at the screen, slowly picking apart what you were viewing.

The outline of your uterus was there, clear as day, or as clear as it could be through an ultrasound image.  Inside of your uterine bubble, however, sat two black splotches, each with a tiny white speck inside.

Law stood from his chair, his eyes blown wide.

“Mrs. Trafalgar, there's two babies in there.”

[willowser]

sometimes i get the very strong urge to write a comes back ??? fic for bakugou but the more i think about it, the more i realize how emotionally taxing and honestly horrifying it would be.

you and bakugou spend a few years in that weird will-they-won't-they stage before you officially start seeing each other seriously, and then it takes some time to adjust to having a pro-hero for a partner — so it's not always easy. until the time goes by and you have a break up scare or two and things finally level out, and you figure out how to talk to each other and you fall into the beautifully warm comfort of just being together, in love.

and then he fucking dies. in a heart-explodey, blind-in-one-eye kind of way.

the two years that follow are just — time passing, like pages in a chapter you can't understand the words to. you know grief in a way you never could have comprehended before, you wonder what it's all for and how you'll go on. you're angry at him for sacrificing his stupid life and angry at the world for taking him from you, but you're so deeply, down to your bones, heartbroken over losing him.

and you're not the only one; more than any of his friends that you see, deku is the one who is there for you the most. calls you daily and pulls you out of bed, makes sure you eat because he knows that's what kacchan would want. lovingly flings out a few gruff insults that make you laugh until you're both crying in your kitchen. it means something, maybe, that you both can just mourn in the presence of one another, without judgement or care.

your relationship gets a little — dependent. not romantic, at least not for you, but it's like you need the other person for the bits of bakugou they hold that you don't. the memories and the laughs and the bad times as well as the good. the secrets katsuki would never tell you, and the tenderness izuku was never shown.

it never gets easier. every day is just another day. if you think about it for too long, it all comes crumbling down. you're almost having to disassociate through your life just to make it, and that's hard when the whole city mourns him, too. but you do it. every single day, even on the worst of them.

izuku calls you a little more than two years after, in the middle of the night.

sounding way too awake and out of breathe, though you don't think that's necessarily out of the ordinary, considering his profession. he's a very hyper-fixation kind of guy; you can only imagine what hobby he's picked up and also mastered in the last 48 hours.

he asks if he can come pick you up from your apartment because he "needs to show you something important" and you agree, even if it doesn't feel like it usually does, when the nights are long and you both need someone to talk to. this feels — urgent. a bit worrisome.

you don't know where he takes you, but he's quiet the whole way there. in an old sweater, hair mussed, bags under his eyes like he really hasn't slept in the last 48 hours.

("stupid flighty fucker," katsuki would say, sometimes, when the weight of the world was weighing too heavily on the number one hero's shoulders, and even if he would huff and puff and grit his teeth, you'd notice him checking his phone more often than usual. taking every phone call that came without hesitation.)

you almost want to tell izuku that, in the car, because that's what you do, that's how you've kept him alive between the two of you; kacchan would make a point to tell you that's not how generators work, in the shitty horror film you and deku go see, that kacchan wouldn't dare sit through.

("no, he would," you argue, solemn as the lights in the theater warm back to life, as it empties. "he would."

and after a long, heavy beat, izuku would agree. "yeah. he would.")

izuku brings you somewhere that's too clinical to be as quiet and as dark as it is: inside, the walls and floors are sterile with anti-septic but the lights are off, in every hallway. the only visibility comes from a small lamp that's in a lobby of sorts, and there is a small handful of people you don't know, at all, already there. waiting.

you say his name in a small, concerned question, and when he takes both his hands in yours, they're warm and too wide and sweaty. his eyes glow, but in a way you don't recognize. everything he says to you is — gibberish, a mish-mash of worry and half-sentences and all the warning bells are going off in your head.

"y-you can't freak out, okay? you have to—i can explain all this when...when the time is right."

"you said that you would give anything to have kacchan back, remember? you said—you would do anything."

"i know this sounds—i know how this sounds, okay? but nothing is impossible!"

"i just need you to trust me."

and up until now, you had no reason not to. but you're not sure when he slept last, or even when he ate last, or why he's muttering things about his quirk, how he and katsuki are connected somehow, in ways he's not able to explain.

or why you can faintly hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor just beyond the only closer door in this wing of the hospital.

[goodhorse413]

This is Rainbow Dash.

She is a terrific athlete. That’s why the government of Equestria gave her a very important job. Equestria needs pegasi to help maintain the weather. Farmers rely on pegasi like Rainbow Dash to make it rain when the apple trees need water. Ice skaters rely on pegasi like Rainbow Dash to bring the winter so the ponds can freeze over. Fillies and colts rely on pegasi like Rainbow Dash to bring the summer so the school year can end. The Ponyville marching band relies on pegasi like Rainbow Dash to make it warm and sunny on the day of the parade. Her job is very important. Because everypony benefits from Rainbow Dash doing her job, Rainbow Dash must do her job. Because Rainbow Dash must do her job, Rainbow Dash must get paid. But who pays Rainbow Dash? The pony who makes ice skates is paid by the ice skaters. The pony who makes apple juice popsicles is paid by the fillies and colts. But Rainbow Dash isn’t selling a service to an individual pony. Her work benefits the whole of Equestria, and if somepony is unwilling to pay, she is not capable of excluding that pony from the benefits. She provides a public good, something which is valuable, but neither rivalrous nor excludable. The mechanisms of mutually beneficial market exchange employed by the sellers of ice skates and apple juice popsicles do not apply. Unlike excludable goods, ponies have no incentive to contribute to the process that they benefit from. This is called the free-rider problem, and it’s an example of a market failure.

Market failures are situations when the normal conditions of “optimal” markets, such as clearly delineated property rights, perfect competition, and perfect information, are not met, and therefore non-market solutions, typically state interventions, can create pareto improvements. A pareto improvement is a change in the distribution of goods such that at least one pony is made better off, and nopony is made worse off. The first theorem of welfare economics states that if all goods are distributed under “optimal” market conditions, there can be no further pareto improvements.

Princess Celestia knows how important it is for Equestria’s weather to be properly maintained, so her government allocated a portion of tax revenue to pay for a national service that employs skilled pegasi, including Rainbow Dash, to maintain the weather of Equestria in the way most beneficial to the common good. This means that ponies in Equestria pay a slightly higher amount in taxes, but they all receive benefits from the improved weather that exceed the costs. Everypony benefits, and nopony loses. Thus, the market failure is corrected, and the economists breathe a sigh of relief.

This is Fluttershy.

She is the kindest and most gentle pony in the whole wide world. That’s why the government of Equestria gave her a very important job. Wild animals in Ponyville, just like wild animals on Earth, often suffer from disease and malnutrition, become injured in their daily lives, or become trapped and unable to free themselves. Fluttershy is one of the many ponies in Equestria who takes care of sick and injured animals. She provides vaccinations for rabies and tuberculosis, rescues trapped animals, and provides temporary medical care, food, and shelter for animals recovering from injuries.

Fluttershy’s job is very important. Countless animals rely on her to give them relief from the barbarities of natural life. Because they lack the necessary cognitive capacities to participate in pony society, and as such they do not have jobs, many of the needs of non-pony animals can only be met by ponies, who are endowed with the unique ability to understand and palliate the suffering of others, and as such have a responsibility to do just that. Because Fluttershy has a responsibility to do her job, Fluttershy must do her job. Because Fluttershy must do her job, Fluttershy must get paid. But who pays Fluttershy? Pinkie Pie makes cupcakes, and she is paid by the ponies who purchase her cupcakes. Rarity makes dresses, and she is paid by the ponies who purchase her dresses. But Fluttershy is providing a benefit to customers who cannot pay her. The market, with its system of mutual exchange, will not provide Fluttershy with the incentive to perform her responsibility, and so an intervention is needed.

Princess Celestia knows how important it is for the non-pony animals of Equestria to be vaccinated and have their injuries treated, so her government allocated a portion of tax revenue to pay for a national service that provides care to animals. Some ponies now pay a little more in taxes, but the lives of non-pony animals are significantly improved. This is not a pareto improvement, as some ponies have been made worse off than they would be in the counterfactual, but it is nevertheless desirable, because the benefits to the non-pony animals exceed the costs to the taxpayers.

Both of these pegasi have been employed by the government to perform necessary duties that a free market would not provide. In both cases, the market does not provide goods that would be desirable to provide. However, the situations are different. Rainbow Dash is employed to resolve a market failure, an instance when the market is unable in practice to achieve the distribution that it would in theory. Fluttershy is employed to resolve what I will call a market misalignment, an instance when the theoretical distribution provided by a market would be dispreferable to some other possible distribution. In both cases, an institution outside the market, such as the state, can interfere in the market to resolve the issue.

The phrase “market failure” is often used in vague and confusing ways that distort or misrepresent its primary definition. Sometimes inequality is described as a market failure. This is an inaccurate description. Inequality is an example of a market misalignment, a way in which the operation of a market may result in suboptimal outcomes. It is fundamentally different from a market failure, which is when real world markets fail to meet the conditions of ideal markets. The confusion is not helped by the language often used in economics. “Optimal”, “ideal”, and “perfect” are all words that have wildly different meanings in common parlance than they do in economics.

Market failures are widely discussed by progressive economists. They are frequently used as a means of critiquing laissez-faire and free market ideology, as these systems are poorly equipped to deal with market failures. Market misalignments, on the other hand, are more rarely discussed, despite being probably more important avenues of criticism towards laissez-faire.

I did not originate the concept of “misalignment” in the economic context. Many rationalist-adjacent left-wingers have independently invented the idea. @Max1461 refers to “humanist concerns” about capitalism as “the alignment problem as applied to economic systems.” Other people with views critical of capitalism have raised essentially the same idea, comparing the consequences of the profit motive to the problem of aligning artificial intelligences. Someone on the effective altruism forum made this comparison to argue for a new economic system (they didn’t say which one). Another person on the effective altruism forum made this comparison, but to defend the idea that AI alignment would be easy.

For all the gesturing at the concept of an economy being “misaligned”, I have yet to see an effort to formalize an analysis of market misalignment. This series of posts is my attempt.

[persimmonsimmer]

If there was one thing Nadya had learned over the years, it was that Carl knew how to get things done. Still, the plan he'd just described sounded too good to be true. Especially considering that it all hinged on the supposed expertise of a young woman, this Sam, who looked by all rights like she ought to be enrolled in one of Hannah Chen’s classes right alongside her own Farah and Mariam.

She spoke carefully.

Nadya: "You know building an electrical grid has been a high priority of mine. It would put us on the path to becoming a real city. Maybe the first to be built since Before. But, realistically, I didn't think we'd have the funds, or the expertise, to start working on one for . . . well, for decades. I’m still not sure we do."

Carl: "Which is where Sam comes in. It won’t be cheap, no, but with her guidance I’m confident we can do it without getting bogged down with mistakes and unexpected costs, and that’s always where the costs of a project really start to add up.”

Nadya scrutinized the woman seated next to Carl. She'd never known Carl to be wrong when he vouched for someone's skill. But she was so young.

Nadya: "You understand, everything would be riding on this project's success. It would have to be completed before the election after this one. And completed successfully." She turned to address Sam directly. "Are you sure you'd know what you were doing?"

Sam: "Yes, ma'am."

Nadya: "Even though, as you admitted earlier, you've never created anything on a scale anywhere close to this."

Sam: "Like I said, I've been messing around with wires and batteries since I was barely a kid. I've read every book on infrastructure and physics and chemistry and electrical engineering I could get my hands on.

"But each of my experiments required weeks of salvaging for the materials, so it’s true there was only so much I could do. It's been my dream to help bring electricity back to the world ever since I can remember, but I never thought I'd have the resources to do it. Not until Carl asked if I'd be willing to help you. I can do this. I swear."

Carl: "Sam here is a certifiable genius, I'm telling you. I've seen some of the things she's created from practically nothing. Marvelous contraptions. With her at the helm of this project, you and I both can rest easy."

Nadya: "I am tempted. But there's also the matter of the clinic I was hoping to build. We might be able to muster the funds for a grid if I raise taxes, but we certainly won’t have the resources to build both. The clinic would have to be delayed indefinitely. That would be very unfortunate."

Carl: “A clinic would be a real boon to the town, to be sure. But then again, how much more will Meda or anyone else be able to accomplish in a clinic until we’ve got electricity in place? I think the priority here's clear."

Nadya: “Still, some of the townspeople will be angry. They'll say I've gone back on my word.”

Carl: “Listen, Nadya.” Instead of wearing his usual wide smile, he was now serious, still-faced. “I know it’s a political risk. But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

Nadya: “Maybe . . . If we could just delay the start, a few years at most—”

Carl: “Much as I hate to put the screws to you, Nadya, I’m afraid Sam here, at least, needs an answer. She’s come all this way on my assurance there’d be a job for her at the end of the road, and, well, if that’s not the case, she has a family to get back to.”

Meaning we’ll lose our chance at this supposed wunderkind’s help forever, I suppose, Nadya thought sourly.

Nadya: “You have family back at home, Sam?” If only Carl would stop blathering at her, give her a few minutes to figure out how to swing this to her best advantage. “And where did you say home is, again?”

Sam’s eyes darted toward Carl.

Sam: “A little sister. And it’s so small, it doesn’t even have a name. We hardly ever even saw any traders, except for Carl.”

Nadya: “It must be hard to leave home behind, nevertheless.” She’d hardly registered Sam’s words. “Carl, you know I want this for Panorama. I do. Perhaps . . . if you could sweeten the deal for me . . . ?"

Carl: "What did you have in mind?"

He knew she was hooked. As suddenly as it had vanished, his usual smile had reappeared.

Nadya: "Just a little something for your crew to work on while this project is still in the planning stages. Something my fellow Panoramans can get some use from sooner rather than later."

It didn't take Nadya long to explain what she had in mind, and when she finished, Carl's smile was even wider than before.

Carl: "Is that all? Piece of cake. It'll be done before the winter's out."

Nadya: "Then you've got a deal, Worth."

Decisiveness. That’s what made her a leader.

Nadya: “Just tell me one thing. Where exactly do you find so many talented people? Your knack for it is almost uncanny."

Carl: "Ah-ah, Nadya. I can't go giving away all my secrets. Gotta leave you some reason to keep me around."

He beamed.