#never really being alone in their twin sufferings

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

YES the first four is me. Believe me when i say the sentitwins telepathy concept changed the trajectory of my life like i was IMMEDIATELY obsessed with the idea. Im glad you liked my lil doodles, im going to read what you are writing over and over im so exited!! Heres a bonus, might draw more

ahhh well i'm so glad you liked my twin telepathy idea! and even gladder it inspired these amazing little comics lol i'm like lowkey obsessed with them 😂 like, you just get these boys! "hope he dies soon" "i can just kill him" "NO" jklsadffkl;sdf you nailed their personalities and their dynamic i'm GIDDY

the senti-twin telepathy idea hit me while i was writing the ladybug/peacock fusion scene in What Makes a Monster! i realized it was a very real possibility that the peacock holder could telepathically communicate with a senti that's already been created by another holder, as shown in "feast." and since adrien and felix are sentis, well, that would include them also!

AND LOOK HOW MUCH FUN IT IS. THE POSSIBILITIES FOR SENTI-TWIN SHENANIGANS ARE ENDLESS!!! 🦚🪶🦚🪶🦚🪶🦚🪶🦚🪶

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

(HAELENA’S TURN)

STAY WITH US

pairing: helaena targaryen x targaryen! reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader

word count: ~3k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, light cursing, angsty helaena, one single mention of sex. dont @ me if you find a haelena instead of a helaena. targaryen names are much too complicated for my brain

a/n: thank you guys for all the love on aegon's oneshot. i was bouncing on the walls when i saw how much love it received and that some people agree with me in terms of alicent being a shit mom. that being said you dont really have to read the first part to read this. it works as a stand alone although it is a continuation.

although the inspiration to write these oneshots was the death of a child i love how soft and comforting they've come out. it's about sympathizing and giving these characters the love they deserve.

helaena deserves so much love even more than aegon. she's an innocent in all of this trapped in the midst of war. hell even rhaenyra agrees and scolded daemon for his misdoings.

im thinking of writing one last part where it is all three of them together: reader, aegon and helaena. i'm leaning towards smut but i never know what my brain will come up with. if you’d rather have some more domestic fluffy stuff let me know and that can be arranged!

enjoy!

Your fingers close around your skirts as you fly up the stairs to Helaena's bed chambers. One of her maids leads the way. The young girl sought you out as you readied for bed, rambling about how Queen Helaena was in distress. Without further question, you slipped on your robe and followed her.

The Queen has not been well since the night her child was brutally taken from her. She continues to live day by day in constant suffering as her mind has a difficult time coming to terms with that night's events.

As it happens, saying Helaena is 'not well' is an understatement.

She might've been 'not well' after the fact, but the funeral proceedings broke the last thread of sense she was holding onto. If anyone is to blame, it is the Dowager Queen who forced her to attend and Otto Hightower who was the 'mastermind' behind it all.

It was torture to hear the people of Kings Landing shouting for her, screaming vile words about Rhaenyra, and offering condolences about a subject they barely knew a thing about.

Most had never seen the young Prince; his cold body and the gold thread around his neck were their first glimpses of him. They gasped and awed at her child as if he were a spectacle while she had no choice but to sit and watch with composure.

It is only natural she would fall apart under the pressure of such ill-conceived plans. Her overthinking mind couldn't handle it any longer when the carriage got stuck. Her thoughts coming up with the most of wicked scenarios. She had to run.

Then, there is Jaehaera, who continues to ask for her twin brother. The poor girl has never spent a day apart from him since they were conceived. It is difficult for Helaena to hear Jaehaera constantly ask where he is and when he will return. It's a never ending reminder of her loss.

Besides, how is she to explain death to a child when Helaena herself has not accepted it.

The newly assigned guard sworn to protect the Queen opens the door for you as soon as you round the corner. His anticipation worries you to no end, and you fear what lies past those doors.

Maids surround Helaena, attempting to comfort her. She screams at them to let her be, but they persist. The maids mean well. Helaena is clearly distressed, yet they don't seem to realize it's because of their overbearing presence.

The young Queen swats them away. Her fingers thread through her messy hair as she seeks an escape, and sobs rake through her slender body until she collapses on her knees. Her lips move in unreadable murmurs in between each yell.

Helaena barely appears like herself. Dark purple circles line her under eyes, and her hair is unbrushed and knotted. Her signature plump cheeks have hollowed out, indicating that she has lost weight.

"Please," Helaena cries to no one in particular, recoiling from their touch.

You barrel through the maids and kneel on the floor at an arms length from Helaena. "'Laena?" you softly call to get her to look at you, knowing that if you even attempt to touch her, she will shy away.

At the recognition of your voice, Helaena's face whips up. She falls into your arms, hiding from the other females in the room. The tears that stain her face wet your robe as you hold her close. She tucks her face into your neck, hiccuping from emotion.

"Leave us," you command with a stern gaze that borders on anger.

The maids move to leave the room, but only after notifying you that the Queen has barely eaten or bathed in days. Once the door closes shut, you coax Helaena from your arms.

"What is wrong, 'Laena?" You ask softly, cradling her face to brush away her tears. The sight of her red and blotchy face breaks your heart. She must've been like this for a long time.

"It is my fault," she hiccups as new tears follow the path of the others. Helaena hangs her head in despair. She should've fought harder to keep her son alive. There must've been something else she could've done.

"Look at me," you say sternly, forcing her to look at you. It is when her eyes meet yours that you continue, "This is not your fault."

"I was the one to point my finger," she argues while her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her dress when a new wave of emotion takes over.

Helaena is an overly emotional person. She feels things deep in her chest. She wishes she could control it, but the more she holds it in, the nastier it gets when it gets out of her control. Her body freezes and pleads for her to run and hide.

"Helaena, this was going to happen whether you pointed your finger or not. If you hadn't done what you did, you and Jaehaera would be dead as well."

It's blunt and a bit cruel, but Helaena must understand that she had no other choice. The only way this could've been stopped was if she had been assigned a sworn protector, but the council underestimated their enemy and Ser Criston Cole was too busy getting his cock wet to do anything about it.

"I told them to spare him and kill me instead," Helaena confesses with a weep.

She lets herself go on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around her shaking shoulders. You kiss the top of her head to console her guilty conscience. Helaena did not deserve to be a victim of Daemon's terrible idea. She might just be the most innocent of Targaryens.

"I know, Helaena, you were so brave. You're a wonderful mother. This is not your fault, and nobody blames you. You did what you had to do. Jaehaera is alive and well because of you."

It's hard for Helaena to stop thinking in such a way once she starts. The thoughts cause her to imagine things that aren't really there and doubt her reality. She feels like the staff's glances are not of worry but of resentment for letting those men kill her boy. Aegon's absence makes it all the worse.

"Aegon will not look at me, much less speak to me," she whimpers, wrapping her arms around your waist.

A tear slides down your cheek. You will never compare your sadness to theirs, but seeing them hurt in such a way pains you. Their marriage was arranged, yes, but Aegon and Helaena hold deep affection for each other. They simply have a difficult time showing it.

In this instance, there is no one who understands them better than each other. It is tragic but this should bring them closer together not tear them apart.

"Aegon is grieving. He can barely stand to look at himself because he feels like he failed his family, 'Laena. I promise you he will come around."

Helaena nods with her head on your shoulder. She is not convinced, but your words soothe her for the time being. Tears continuously slide down her face, and there is nothing you can do about it. You much prefer she cries it all out than hold it in.

"Come," you tell her, holding her hand and guiding her to the bath the maids had prepared before they left. "Let's get you ready for bed.”

You keep her close to you, reassuring Helaena you're there to stay as long as she needs. You help her untie the strings of her dress, and as you hang it over the back of a chair, she slips out of her smallclothes.

She accepts your hand to step into the bath. The water has now cooled, but she doesn't complain. It is the least of her worries. Helaena sits in the tub with her arms around her knees and silently cries.

Your goal tonight is to get her to rest. You can tell she hasn't slept in a long time, which will make her feel better.

Settling on the wooden stool next to the bath, you lather soap into the sponge and ask for her arm. Helaena complies, and you gently swipe the sponge across her skin. The maids were thorough as the smell of a calming oils invades your senses. They sincerely wanted to help their Queen.

Scrubbing down her arm, you note her nailbeds, which are red and raw. You're gentle with the soap when you reach her hand to prevent it from burning. Once you rinse it out, you bring her hand up to your lips, kissing her fingertips much like your mother would do when you got hurt.

Her crying calms when she catches onto your gesture, watching you in awe.

It is easy to note how she's thinned out as you continue to bathe her. Her skin presses against her ribs, showcasing each indent, and the bony prominences of her shoulders are much more palpable. It worries you to no end. Everyone has different coping mechanisms, but this is by far the unhealthiest one.

In the morrow, you will make it your goal to get her to eat. For a start, you will ask the kitchens to bake her favorite dessert. There has never been a moment where Helaena has refused a berry tart.

"Tilt your head back for me, love," you whisper, grabbing the pitcher of clean water from the table. Brushing Helaena's hair back, you pour the water, being careful not to get it in her eyes.

As she tilts her head back, she keeps her watchful eyes on you. She is in one of the most intimate positions, yet her lilac eyes reveal the most vulnerable parts of herself. You offer Helaena a comforting smile. Moving on from this tragic accident will be difficult, but we have to start somewhere.

When you lather her hair with soap and massage her scalp, she closes her eyes with a shudder. In turn, her shoulders relax, and goosebumps appear across her skin. A quiet moan slipping past her bitten lips.

Moving on to her face, Helaena watches you closely as you grab a rag to wash her face. You're so careful and tender with her. She has not made mention of it, but your touch feels pleasant against her skin.

You dab her neck next, looking over the wound that was cast upon her. You wish for it not to scar. Helaena needs no more reminders of that night.

After finishing the bath, you help her stand and dry off. Then, you follow her to the bed, where her nightgown lies discarded. With your assistance, she quickly slips it on. Helaena is quiet as she dresses; no more tears well up in her eyes.

"Let's brush your hair," you whisper soothingly.

Delicately, you glide the brush through her silver strands. You tackle the knots methodically to prevent pulling on her hair. A couple of drops of rose oil help greatly with the task as the bristles move smoothly across the long length of her hair.

Helaena sighs softly, and, through the mirror, you can see her eyes are closed. The poor thing must be exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" You ask her, tying the plait you weaved and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. You prop your head upon hers, cuddling her into you.

"Better, I suppose," she nods gratefully, grasping your hand hanging loosely across her chest. "I am tired," she admits.

"Let's get you to bed then."

Before you can slip away, Helaena protests and holds your wrist. "No, please." You're taken aback by the desperation in her voice. Why is she refusing to rest when her body begs for it?

"Helaena, when was the last time you slept?"

Helaena appears guilty. She swallows the knot on her throat, preparing to answer. "Not since that night. The nightmares do not allow me respite."

You sit beside her on the bench, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "Do you wish to speak about them? It might help."

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "It's always the same. They return when the nights darkest and take Jaehaera."

Helaena is terrified. Many of her dreams have become reality, and this is one she would not be able to bear witness to. The things they do in her dreams are unforgivable. She cannot lose her daughter to those monsters.

Silence takes upon the room. Helaena cannot survive in a sleep deprived state, there must be something you can do. "What if we bring her here? She can sleep with you. That way, you will know she's safe."

Helaena ponders your suggestion, her eyes drifting away. "Will you stay?" Although a question the way Helaena's voice cracks, it's more of a plead.

"Is that what you wish, my Queen?" You ask, caressing her cheek so she returns to you from that faraway place in her mind.

She's quick to nod and squeeze your hand in gratitude. "Please," she whispers, leaning into your touch.

"Anything for you."

Helaena accompanies you to Jaehaera's new chambers. The King saw it fit Jaehaera did not reside in the room where her twin brother was murdered. A wise choice.

If your memory serves you well, Jace used to inhabit the space once upon a time.

Helaena almost runs to her daughter's cot, ensuring she's alive and well. You sympathize with her, it's natural to worry about your child if another was stolen from your life.

"Mama," Jaehaera yawns when Helaena picks her up.

"You're sleeping with mummy tonight, yeah?" Helaena whispers, cradling the back of her head and kissing the crown of her head.

Jaehaera, too tired to reason or even question it, nods and nestles into the crook of Haelena's neck. The sight is eerily similar to that fateful night.

The guard posted to protect Jaehaera escorts you to the Queen's chambers, standing on the opposite side of Helaena's white cloak guard.

Once inside, you slip off your robe and join her and Jaehaera on the bed. The girl is safely nestled between you both, pale lashes fluttering shut.

Helaena reaches for your hand to ensure you do not leave, and you lace your fingers with hers. "Sleep, 'Laena. I'll keep you safe," you promise her.

All it takes for Helaena to sleep is a lullaby your mother used to sing to you. It was of great tales of the people of Old Valyria. It was your favorite growing up, and now it is Helaena's.

By the song's end, Helaena's breaths even out and she succumbs to slumber. Although her face reflects her tiredness, the resemblance between Helaena and Jaehaera is stark.

When your eyes begin to close, eager to follow Helaena and Jaehaera to the land of dreams, the door creaks open. Startled, you sit up on the bed to search for an intruder, ready to scream if need be.

Aegon stands by the door, his chest heaving and his face pale. His hair is in disarray, and his eyes are wild with worry. "Where is Jaehaera?" he asks.

"She's right here," you respond, lowering the sheets and moving your body to reveal her resting upon Helaena's chest.

Aegon sighs in relief, and after a moment of hesitation, he timidly steps closer to the bed, observing the scene in front of him. He has taken to visiting his daughter's chambers throughout the night. He doesn't trust the guards, even if he is the one who assigned them. Aegon needs to see with his own eyes that his remaining child is alive and not endangered.

He had been frightened when the guard who was supposed to be posted by her door was gone, and worse, so was his daughter. Before he could scream, a maid walked in and, upon questioning, told him Jaehaera was in the Queen's chambers with her mother and the Princess.

You lay back against the headboard and observe him. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over you to brush a strand of hair away from his wife's face. Then, his hand lowers as his fingertip traces the slope of his daughter's nose.

"You should talk to her."

Helaena's words are clear as day in your mind. After witnessing Aegon in the same position, you reckon it would be good if they spoke to one another.

"I wouldn't know what to say," Aegon responds with a shake of his head.

"Yes, you do," you insist, resting your hand upon his, which lays on the bed. He glances questioningly at you, silently asking you to explain.

Your voice is light and soft. The last thing you want is to wake Helaena, although your instincts tell you it is doubtful. "Nobody understands what you're going through better than Helaena. She lost a child as well and feels just as hopeless as you do. Talk to her and tell her the words you would've liked to hear."

"It is that easy?" He asks in disbelief with a scoff. He looks at you for guidance. You've helped him more than anyone in the council or his own mother.

"Yes," you chuckle, and he joins you, if only for a moment. "Would you like me to go so you can stay?" You wouldn't want to intrude in a moment that can unite a family yet again.

Aegon shakes his head and urges you to stay abed. "It is alright. I will soon talk with 'Laena."

For a brief moment, Aegon presses his forehead against yours to show his appreciation. He stands with a press of his lips to your forehead and one more glance at his family. "Thank you for everything. I hope one day I can repay you for all your kindness."

"There's no need."

He does not speak but shares a glance that says a thousand words. Aegon closes the door behind him and turns to the guards standing by it.

Their backs visibly straighten when he addresses them. "Under no circumstance are you to leave your post. Your goal is to protect the Queen and the Princesses."

After all, his heart and soul are in that room.

STAY WITH US

came out a little longer than aegon but there was much to do with lovely helaena. queen helaena is a big reason as to why i hate alicent so much. alicent has let her down time and time again. how can she fucking ask helaena not to say anything about her and cole? fuck, alicent, she's not even thinking about that.

did you enjoy this one shot? please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and alicent and cole slander) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Aegon is the best big brother to his sweet sister, who is in third trimester of pregnancy; not only does he help her relieve the feeling of her heavy breasts by sucking on her tits greedily like a babe, he sometimes helps the aching feeling between her legs by sticking his cock, tongue or fingers in her cunny

Such a good brother, especially when she’s not even his wife

Blood of my Blood.

PAIRING: Older!Brother!Aegon ii Targaryen x Little!Sister!Fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,715.

WARNINGS: incest to the max, implied affair [Aegon is the father of the child], age gap [reader is of mature/consensual age], lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slight reference to breeding kink, p in v sexual intercourse, possessive!Aegon, swearing.

A/N - now I NEVER write brother x sister tropes even in the ASOIAF universe just because it’s not really my cup of tea, but this ask sparked something very very feral in me. I might make a neice x uncle version of this or a Daddy Aeg x daughter!reader version.

credit to the owners of the images.

Curse the Gods who afflicted the journey of motherhood, for it could be such a gruelling thing... Heading into the final few moons of your first pregnancy, you had never felt such intense discomfort in your life. Your beloved mother, Queen Alicent, had informed you of such grievances, although with little empathy for her pregnancies had been quite embracing and facile. Your eldest sister, Helaena, having already given birth to a set of twins, now in the early stages of her current pregnancy with your elder brother, Aemond, could somewhat console you, becoming an anchor of support.

It was Aegon, your eldest of the siblings, that you seemed most attached to, for it was Aegon that granted you bliss in your pregnancy, more so than your absent husband, some delinquent lord of the Vale. You had argued your way with your mother, and batted your eyes to your father, begging you to stay in King's Landing, in familiar territory with the finest maesters at hand. More so, it was Aegon who had plotted with you this essential plan.

"Do you truly think that the maesters of the Vale and that imbecile you call husband will keep you safe and satisfied, dear sister? Not in the least... But I can."

Aegon's temptress of a tongue was convincing alone, although it had been his merciful gestures of chivalry that kept you sane and grounded. Easing your aches and pains of expecting, Aegon became your sole beacon of ease, like the formidable arms of a warrior and you, the damsel he heroically carries.

"Do they ache again, sweet sister?"

The softness in his husky, drowsy voice breaking the silence of the chamber, woke you whole from your half-hearted daze. You had both succumbed to slumber [often Aegon insisted that you remain closely by his side, even in bed] what felt like hours long ago, and yet through the ginger firelight, by the open window, night remained swallowing the sky.

"Mhmm-" You uneasily stir: weakly trying to muster enough strength to sit yourself upright: however, with the sheer, bulging mass of your grown belly you visibly struggled until Aegon's efforts of pulling you effortlessly upright ended your dilemma.

"Want me to help, princess?"

His calloused, thick hands began to rub small, soothing circles against your lower back, knowing the babe inside exerted much pressure on your lower spine: its weight growing more rigid with each passing month.

"You've helped me enough, Aegon. I mustn't ask more from you... If this state is any indication of me being a mother, consider me a terrible one," You defeatedly utter, one hand stretched from behind supporting your upright position, whilst the other softly caressed at the protruding temple of your clothed belly.

"Don't speak like that, Y/N, dearest. This is your first babe, you must understand your body is adjusting. Hel suffered a great deal with the twins also, and now, look at her... You are going to be a beautiful mother, indeed. I have no doubt...C'me here."

Lightly tapping at your exposed thigh, your night gown had been pulled up just below your way with all the commotion and movement. Obeying, Aegon summoned you onto his lap, shirtless he had entered the bed, however before you could even gather motion to straddle yourself atop: he'd managed to tear away his undergarments, leaving his exposed girth, reddened at the tip with excitement. Modestly covering himself with the sheer, ivory linen.

"Right now?" Your snappy tone vicious, however Aegon remained unfazed.

"Well, little sister, if I'm being quite frank it seems you've been dreaming quite vividly... Do you not hear the moans and pleas that escape your lips in sleep, crying out for me, begging... Want your elder to sate you, is it? Was that babe growing inside of you not enough, you wish me to spoil you some more, hmm?"

"A-Aeg- We shouldn't..." You meekly whimper, a surge of heat coursing through your face, certain your cheeks had grown scarlet with shame.

"All you had to do was ask."

His dark voice a low growl, like some concealed predator eager to ambush. Aegon's motions remained in contrast, tender and cautious, easing your delicate and sensitive frame over his wide, gelatinous thighs. A scorching sensational painfully heightened sent lightning bolts in waves throughout the entirety of your body, shuddering with excitement as your aching cunt eased itself over his pulsating cock. It had been a while since you had been intimate with Aegon like this, prior to the pregnancy in fact: the changes your body had undergone since were bracing and raw.

Feeling the tensity beneath and the heat as you began to bob ever so slowly and sensually over Aegon's tense, fat cock: feeling its hard tip hitting at your cervix [you had hoped rather than the babe]. Your tight walls overstretched, desperate to adjust to his girthy width, you swore to yourself it had never felt this stimulating ever before: every primal sense in your body, every fibre of your being resisting the urge to collapse into a faint against Aegon's soft chest, gripping onto the bare, pale skin of his broad shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, rūs [baby], doing so-so well. It hurts I know, but Daddy's gonna make you feel so much better. Keep going, princess."

Head rolling back in admiration, you felt the intensity from between your inner thighs beginning to lessen, a wetness pooling between, coating the friction to ease the motions. Your hands release their strong hold over him, as your eyes began to wonder over his body, you had immediately noticed the raw, reddened marks lashed across his ivory skin. To avoid any more damage, you guide your relaxed hands up towards Aegon's short strands.

Tugging and playfully pulling at the loose, platinum locks, whilst Aegon's face remained buried, eagerly lapping at your petal-like skin on the base of your neck. One strong arm snaked around your back, gripping you firmly by the neck providing some lumbar support, whilst the other strategically untied the knots of lace at the front of your night gown, exposing your voluptuously full tits. Hardened nipples raw and perky, even as Aegon teasingly flicked at your tit with this thumb, a grimace forming across his handsome face you felt against your skin: kneading the swollen, plump flesh with his palm, you instinctively squirmed and moaned with such debility.

"Seven Hells, you are so fucking full, dārilaros [princess]. This babe is going to be so spoiled. Such a good Mumma, already eager with milk for the bub... Could feed the an entire realm, Mumma."

"J-Just you A-Aeg. Only you get to taste this sweet m-milk before the babe. T-Tell me how good I taste," Stuttering whimpers mottled between mouthful of moans echoed between the dense walls of Aegon's royal chambers. His fat cock still buried and plunging itself deeply inside of you, penetrating against your already tainted and filled womb, Aegon's hand cupped at your breast from beneath. Lifting your tit upwards, latching his mouth tightly against its curvature peak.

"Mhmm- Keep going big boy... M-Making me feel s-so good, A-Aeg. H-Have your full."

The imminent relief your occupied tit began to succumb to, felt like a blissful dream. You felt your breath could finally release, not hitched against your throat from the sheer agony of feeling it was about to burst. The milk you intently sensed, lusciously pouring into Aegon's ravenous mouth, his plump, moist lips suckling at your skin, totally encompassing the nipple in its entirety. His teeth lightly gnawed at your flesh, however, it was a pleasant sensation nonetheless.

"So w-warm and fresh- Gonna f-fill me up so fucking much. P-Poor princess... The weight of these, the copious a-amount- I-I'm greedy for you. Sh-Should've fucked you earlier in your womanhood... Drenching your w-womb of my seed, till we fill the keep i-if need be. M-Mother would rather enjoy it."

Aegon, famished like a destitute of the realm, bathed his taste-buds of your milk from one breast and onto the other: regaining his breath between each as he felt inclined to credit your production. Descending his face down once more, he spared no further second wasting away, as he continued to fervently feed, like a man starved of pure water.

"Th-The el-eldest you may b-be, such a b-big baby y-you are. S-So needy for me, huh? A-Always needing t-to take me, m-make me yours. Every bit of me... Is devout t-to you, A-Aegon."

As if your breathless, sensual words had struck a chord in him, a man gone mad with a fever. His hold on you had tightened, his mouth suckled deeper, tugging at the flesh of your bosom, whilst his cock felt it had grown a size more inside of you. The wet mess coating between your inner thighs now glazed all over Aegon's plump lap, expressed no denial of his power over you, the purpose he gave to you. In theory and practice, you felt your body collapsing into a bliss, a shudder of ecstasy waved through your feeble body as you screamed for Aegon, a gush of your wetness coating all over his stiff cock buried inside. Only to be met with Aegon's mutual appreciation of your vulnerability and submission towards him.

"That's it, baby. Such a beautiful woman... Gevives [beauty]. You honour me with this holy act. You privilege me to your womb, your body and your life... Skorkydoso kostagon nyke mirre deny ao mirros? [How can I ever deny you anything?]."

Easing yourself off of Aegon, your limp, frail body tiresome and relieved of such exploits endured. Aegon knew better than to leave you to your own strength, as absent as it was: carrying you over towards your empty side of the bed, still laying you closely against his natural warmth.

"Continue to serve me, brother. And I shall pay it back 100 times over... And besides, if it had not been for your mischief many moons ago, I would not be in such a state. Although, I wouldn't have it any other way, Aegon... I love you."

"Avy jorrāelan [I love you], my dearest, sweet little sister. Continue as you are and I might have to fuck another babe in you once more to teach you a lesson or two."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @zaldritzosrose

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe @callsignwidow

credit for divider - @/saradika-graphics

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hey boo I love your stories so much and so while we wait for Don’t break my heart part 6 I was wondering if you could write something similar but with reader picking Finn side at first because she gets easily manipulated and so she believed him that he would have helped her but then she realised how sad and lonely she feels and Rhea and Damian bring her back with them and help her heal as they were both worried about her, and of course they weren’t mad she chose finn at first! Make it a little angst if you can❤️ I absolutely love your angst

love this request!

the judgment day x reader (platonic) / terror twins x reader (platonic)

likes, comments are reblogs are always welcomed!

‼️angst, finn being a manipulator, sadness, mention of anxiety and depression‼️

dolly’s choice

you still remember the day when finn, rhea and damian asked you to join them in the group. you didn’t exactly know why. you had nothing that could bring something to team, at least, that was your opinion.

you were a face, you were kind and sweet, a little bit naive, so why did the judgment day pick you?

they said they needed someone like you to get more fans and you believed them. but as you bonded with the group, they all took a liking in you. rhea said that she liked your personality, she saw you as a little sister. damian and finn both took you under their protective wings, the taught you new moves, showed you how to improve on the ring.

and in years, you felt like you had real friends again.

you were a solitaire. never had many friends, and when you started wrestling, it felt like you didn’t have much time to spend with the two friends you had left.

you told them about your past, about yourself. how you suffered from depression once you joined the company, how alone you felt and how you struggle with panic and anxiety attacks.

never once they judged you, they always helped you when you felt low and always made you feel like you were really part of their family too.

so you couldn’t understand why dom and finn turned on the group at summerslam.

dom said that it was because he couldn’t handle being controlled by rhea anymore and finn had the same reasons, just with damian. so the group you once knew as a big family, broke up.

and you were left in the middle.

you didn’t want to pick a side because you cared both for rhea and damian as much as you cared for finn and dom.

so you took the week right after summerslam off. you needed time to think. you didn’t want to choose between the only friends and family you ever had.

rhea and damian understood what you were feeling and never once they pressure you to join them. they care about you and they knew that the group was really important for you too. on the contrary, finn and dom kept calling you, asking you if you were alright, if you needed anything.

when you returned to raw, finn caught you before rhea and damian had the chance to speak with you.

“hey doll” his nickname for you always made you blush. referring to the doll he won for you at the fair one year ago, that became your nickname amongst the group, but it had more meaning only if finn used it.

“hi…” your voice a little softer. you hadn’t spoken with the team since summerslam happened, so, today it was your first time seeing them all after the events.

“do you have a couple of minutes before getting ready for your match? i would like to have a chat with you…” he smiled softly, knowing you and knowing exactly what tone to use with you.

you were hesitant at first, but you couldn’t say no to him “uhm…sure” so you took him into your changing room as you both sat down on the black leather couch, waiting for him to speak.

“first of all, i want to say how sorry i am for everything that happened a couple of weeks ago. but the group wasn’t working anymore and i know you may have not noticed this because we all care about you and we don’t have anything against you but…it wasn’t working anymore between me and damian and it wasn’t wasn’t working between dom and rhea…” he apologised first, knowing that you loved sincere people “the worst thing is that we didn’t think what this could lead to you… because i know you suffered from this…i saw it in your eyes when you left the stadium after summerslam” he took a deep breath “and i’ll never forgive myself for hurting you doll…that was never my intention”

“i appreciate your honesty” you smiled at him “but you wanted to ask me something if i’m not wrong?”

he took everything in himself to not lie to you, because he really cared about you, but right now all that was on his mind was revenge, and his idea of using you to get revenge on damian and rhea sounded more appealing to him “you’re right doll… there’s something that i wanted to ask you”

“go on”

“this new group is missing an important piece and that piece is you. me, dom, liv, jd and carlito…it feels like the group isn’t compete yet” he took your hands into his bigger ones “i know you’ve always struggled with making friends and i assure you that we would be so happy if you joined us… you already know the rest of the group and you know how much we love you…you and liv would be good friends, she’s such a sweetheart, she’s always kind and caring and she would be such an amazing tag team partner for you…and in all honesty, i miss you…i can’t stand to see you hate on me, i would hate myself too…you’re too important for me doll” and you believed him.

the way his voice sounded, full of emotion and honesty. the way he let a few tears fall. and the way he played the “friends card” so well, hitting you in your weakest spot.

it was enough for him to convince you to join them.

you will never forget the faces of damian and rhea when they first saw you with the group. they weren’t mad. they could never be mad at you. they were worried and a little disappointed. they wondered what finn had might said to you to convince you. what kind of sick mind tricks he had to use on you.

“that was amazing” dom laughed, kissing liv’s head, referring to the show that just aired. they completely destroyed rhea and dom, making you feel uncomfortable and guilty as you didn’t want to cause them any harm.

“yup” finn laughed “and i’ll never forget the faces they had when they saw y/n with us, right doll?” his arm took you closer to him, as if he wanted to hug you.

you faked a laugh, feeling uncomfortable and helpless.

“you’re the last piece we needed for our revenge on them” liv added, making the group agreeing with her.

wait - revenge?

finn never said anything about revenge. what was this coming from?

“next week it’s gonna be and you against rhea” liv said, making the group smirk.

“what?” you were confused knowing that you didn’t have any booking for next week.

“i’m gonna go against rhea next week and you’ll come out to help me” she laughed.

“she’s gonna be so heartbroken when she’ll see you with liv” dominik smirked, kissing liv one more time before moving somewhere else quieter with her.

“finn what are they talking about?” you asked him, not understanding what was going on.

“doll…” he sighed “you are a part of this group now and as a group we act together…”

“yeah, not against rhea and damian…you never said anything about going against them…you never mentioned me going against rhea” you didn’t want to cry in front of him, you were trying your best to keep your feelings inside.

he realised he hurt you, he knew he played with your feelings just because having you on his side was going to benefit him “you know that liv can’t win against rhea all by herself���she needs a little push”

you left them room before he could finish his speech.

tears were rolling down your cheeks. you wanted to leave the arena and find some quiet place to cry.

rhea and damian saw you in the distance. they couldn’t see your face really well but they saw you walking fast, trying to figure where to hide.

you found a good spot to hide. you sat on the emergency stairs and let all of those sobs you tried to keep down, out. you couldn’t believe you were so stupid to believe that finn really cared about you. you should have realised it sooner that the only reason he wanted you in the group was because he wanted to use you to get revenge on the pairs and not because he really wanted you in the group.

your cries broke rhea and damian’s heart.

they followed you, wanting to make sure you were okay and when they saw that you were not, they couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened to make you react like that.

you heard someone sitting next to you on the stairs but your eyes were still closed and your hands were still covering your face.

rhea’s arm moved to circle you, making you lay your head on her shoulder “sweetheart…what’s going on?”

when you heard rhea’s voice your eyes immediately opened up. you were met with the terror twins worried expressions.

“i’m so fucking stupid…” you whispered.

“hey, none of that…” damian’s hard voice said “absolutely not”

“but it’s the truth damian…i was so stupid to believe finn’s words and i’m so sorry for everything that happened tonight, i know you guys hate me now and”

“we don’t hate you y/n” rhea’s voice confessed “we could never hate you…we care about you too much…we were so worried when we saw you crying”

“finn said that i was the missing piece, he said that the team wasn’t complete without me and i believed him…he said how liv and i would be great friends, how he cared for me…only for him to say how happy he was when he saw you being disappointed that i picked him instead of you…”

“finn manipulated you y/n” damian said “he played mind games with you and none of what happened tonight was your fault, believe me…”

“but”

“no buts…damian is right…i was so worried when i saw you with them…i would have preferred you choosing by yourself, i would have preferred you going against us because it was your own choice and not someone else’s decision…doll” that nickname in rhea’s tone sounded kinder and more genuine now “it’s your life and it’s your choice to make…”

“i…i don’t want them…i, i can’t go against you next week rhea…they wanted me to distract you so liv could win against you but i can’t…” you cared too much for the duo to turn your back on them.

“then don’t do it…you don’t have to side with us…you could just be neutral…and we will always care about you, no matter what” damian gently wiped your tears away.

“i want to team with you if you still want me…”

rhea and damian both smiled, saying yes.

“we can’t be twins though…we are three now” you said, a little disappointed, knowing that you might have ruined it for them ad the fans.

“nope, not twins, family” rhea smirked, her eyes meeting damian’s “the terror family”

“la familia del terror” damian whispered in spanish “i like how it sounds” making you chuckle.

that night they took you back to the hotel, both planning how to get their revenge on liv and especially finn for even thinking of messing with you.

in the end, you were happy you got to make your own choice.

[strawberrybuni]

I MISS YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING

Pairings(separate): Satoru x reader, Suguru x reader, Kento x reader, Toji x reader, Choso x reader Summary: You had a bad accident that gave you amnesia, and you no longer remember him, and he just can't seem to move on Word Count: 4.1k CW: a LOT of angst, hurt no comfort :( A/N: I'd rather jump into a volcano than make choso cry tbh

GOJO SATORU

Satoru was someone who never bothered with dating. After all, he was such a busy man, he didn't really have time to even think about all that, yet he somehow managed to find time for you. The two of you were damn near inseparable, twin flames if you will.

You were a talented sorcerer, a grade 1 and always improving. He always took so much pride in your growth and how you strived to continue to get stronger alongside him. You two used to spend as much time together as possible, but now he's grateful if you even respond to one of his texts.

About a year ago, you two were on a mission, and a curse user caught you off guard, getting you bad with an attack. You had suffered some pretty intense injuries, it was a miracle you were even still alive. However, your injuries came with a permanent scar, amnesia.

Your memories were completely shot, either in bits and pieces, or just completely gone from your head altogether. Unfortunately for him, he was completely wiped from your brain. Even worse? Your attitude towards him took a complete 180. The fire of once being his twin flame now completely put out with zero chance of it being relit. He wasn't sure if you not remembering various events of your life altered your personality and the way you thought, but you practically hated him now.

Any time he tries to speak to you, he's met with glares, eye rolls, and half assed responses. It didn't stop him from talking to you, though. He would rather you be rude to him than never talk to him again.

Satoru is a man who never spoke on how things affected him or how they made him feel. No one knew how he reread your old text messages over and over again, or how he cries sometimes over the loss of you. No one knew how he lost countless hours of sleep just looking over your vids and pics that you two had taken when you were still together.

No one knew how he was dying on the inside.

“You gonna stay up here moping all day, or try talking to them?” He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Shoko came to stand beside him.

He had been in his usual spot watching you from above as you trained with the students. He had been lost in thought, fantasizing about how the training would’ve been going if things were as they used to be. 

“Nah, I already bothered them today. Maybe I will later though.” He responded with his usual grin, but she saw right through his facade.

They stood there in silence, just watching, the faint sound of laughter filling the air. To Satoru, it almost felt like the universe was laughing at him. First he loses his one and only best friend, and now he's being forced to lose his one true love. Love really is the worst curse of them all, huh?

“You can talk to me, you know,” Shoko finally spoke after a few moments, not wanting to see her friend suffering alone. “It's fine, there's nothing to talk about anyways.”

“But there is Satoru. You might think you have everyone fooled and thinking that you’re unbothered by what happened, but not me. You don't.. have to go through all this alone.”

He mulled over her words for a few moments before shrugging slightly, deciding to be somewhat honest. “I guess I just.. don't find any point in talking about it. They don't love me anymore, and that's that. All I can do is accept it and go forward. If I push too much, they'll end up hating me more than they already do.”

He didn't want to accept it, though. God what he’d give to have you by his side once again. There aren't any lengths he wouldn't go to just to have you remember him. To call him Toru again. To love him again.

“Well that's surprisingly mature of you.” she teased with a sympathetic smile, causing him to pout. “Heyyy! I can be mature!”

She laughed at his whine, then smiled softly as she rubbed his back. “Just know we're all worried about you, okay? If you ever need anything, I’m a text away.”

He nodded with a smile, not bothering to say anything as he watched her leave. His smile slowly faded once she was out of sight, his attention being on you once again. He brought a finger up to pull his blindfold down around his neck as he watched you, letting out a shaky sigh.

“I really do miss you, sweetheart.”

GETO SUGURU

You were out and about with your friends, having a good day out in the nice weather. You had since recovered from the accident you were in, the same accident that gave you a nasty case of amnesia. You had lost a decent portion of your memories. Fortunately, you remembered most of your friends and they’ve all bee a great help in helping you readjust.

“So uh.. how’s it been between you and Suguru?” One of them asks out of the blue. Suguru, your boyfriend before your accident 6ish months ago who was no longer playing that role in your life. “I mean, there’s nothing really going on, we talk sometimes if that’s what you’re asking”

“Well I was just wondering because he’s kind of sort of..” Your friend trailed off, motioning discreetly in a direction to which your eyes followed. Your eyes made contact with his as you found him to be leaning against a wall not far from where you and your friends are, a frown instantly gracing your lips. “Give me a moment."

You got up, incredibly upset as you made your way over him. You had felt a lot of sympathy towards him given the circumstances. You couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for your lover to suddenly no longer remember you. So, you agreed to try and make a relationship work, but after a few months, you found you just aren't into him anymore. No matter what you did, you just couldn't find that love for him again. So, you broke it off and offered to just be friends, not for him to borderline stalk you.

“What the fuck Suguru? Why are you here?” You ask, since this isn’t exactly the first time he’s appeared ‘randomly’ where you happen to be. “I just happened to be in the area.”

“Bullshit. That’s your excuse every time I catch you lurking. I know I said we could be friends, but this is the opposite of how friends should act.”

Suguru frowned at your words. He hated when you referred to him as just some friend. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted his title as your boyfriend back. Yes he agreed to being friends, but that was only so he could continue to try and recapture your heart.

“Well apologies Y/N, I actually was in the area I just.. was curious about what you were up to and followed for a bit.”

“Do you not realize how weird that is? What if I’m on a date, then what?” His frown deepened at your response. “You’re already going on dates?”

“Oh my god I can’t keep having the same conversation with you.”

Time and time again, he would insert himself into your personal affairs as if he was still your boyfriend. He’d get pushy for answers, needing to know what you’re doing. He just misses when you’d give him those silly little updates on what’s going on throughout your day. All of your selfies, your audio messages. God he misses it all. He didn’t mean to act like a creep, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What I do in MY dating life is MY business. We are not a thing anymore Suguru, get that through your head.”

“How do you expect me to do that, huh? How do you expect me to be okay with watching you go out with some other dude, to let him know you like I knew you. For him to attempt to love you the way I loved you. You’re being unfair, no?"

“Honestly I'm being really fair. I have done nothing but try to make things work because you seemed like genuinely a nice guy. Unfortunately, it didn’t play out how we hoped it would. I set my boundaries in us just being friends and you’re the one continuing to push my boundaries again and again. So no Suguru, you’re the one being unfair.”

You were right, and he knew that, but he just can’t go on without you, and doing this almost made him feel apart.

“Look Suguru, because I’m so generous, I’ll give you one last fucking chance. Push my boundaries again and I’m blocking you. Got it?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Got it.”

He watched you return to your friends, hands in his pockets as he left. He had no intentions of stopping, he just was going to be smarter and sneakier about things. You’ll love him again one day, he has to keep believing that for the sake of his sanity. He just has to.

NANAMI KENTO

Your feet dragged against the carpeted floor as you made your way down the hallway to Kento’s apartment. It felt like it went on forever as the feeling of dread bubbled up in your chest at what you were about to do.

Bringing your hand up, you gently knock a few times, anxiously awaiting for him to open the door.

“Ah, Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you. It’s a pleasant surprise, I was actually in the midst of cooking if you’d like to come in.” Kento’s face was kind, eyes almost pleading for you to accept his offer. He missed you in ways you could never even begin to imagine, which is why it was making it so hard for you to go through with this.

“Thank you, but that's okay. I just um.. I came to return this to you.” You held out your hand, your engagement ring resting in your palm.

Kento felt his mouth run dry.

“What? Why.. why are you..” He tried to find the words to speak, his mind unable to comprehend what you're doing, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“I'm sorry Nanami, I really really am. I’ve been trying to find those feelings again, to feel what I felt before the accident, to remember you. I just.. it’s been months now and I just can't go on with this engagement, because at this rate I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that love for you again. I’m.. I'm sorry.”

You truly felt remorseful, he seemed like such a wonderful man, you can understand why you fell for him in the first place. But for some reason, you just weren't in love with him anymore. The love you once felt for him was long gone.

Ever since your accident, the two of you tried everything to get you to remember. Hell, he’d be fine with you falling in love with him all over again. He doesn't care, just as long as you two are together. 

You’re the love of his life, you’re the oxygen he breathes. Irreplaceable. No one could ever compare to you in his eyes, he just can't live without you. Your wedding was supposed to be in a few months, and what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life was slowly slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“No, no no, wait please Y/N. Can't we just try a little longer? I don't mean to be pushy but I feel like we were really getting somewhere and–” Please don't do this. “But we weren't, I was just forcing it because I didn't want to hurt you–”

“I just don't understand why we can't keep trying, we had so many plans together Y/N. Marriage, kids, a house in Malaysia.”

“And that sounds lovely but Nanami–”

“Stop calling me that.” The air around you two fell awkwardly silent. “Call me Ken.. please.. like you always have.” His voice was broken, defeated. He's dealt with so much loss in his life, he couldn't bear to lose you too.

His days have become so devoid of the color you once brought to his life. Before you, he was simply going through the motions of life because that's what he had to do. Now that he’s had you, he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He doesn’t want to go back to how it was before you.

“I’m sorry I just..” He sighed, a hand coming up to rub his face. He didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, he really didn't, but god he was so desperate to try and get you to change your mind. “You’re everything to me. Without you I just.. I'm a shell of a man. Things aren't the same without you by my side. Please can't we just keep trying for a little longer? We could have a breakthrough.”

You listened to his ramble, but you weren't budging. You didn't think it was healthy for him to keep holding onto something that just was no longer written in the stars.

“I can't anymore Kento, I don’t.. I don't want to do this anymore, I'm sorry. I think continuing to try is a lost cause, and only it's filling you with false hope.” He remained silent at your words, nodding in reluctant acceptance, knowing pushing the envelope wouldn't end in his favor.

“Alright.. may I request one last thing from you, before you go?” He asks, fighting back his tears and emotions. “Please, stay for dinner. Cooking for you was something that always bought me joy and.. I'd like to at least sit and eat with you one last time.”

You thought for a few moments before nodding, it was the least you could do. You'd give him this one last thing before you leave for good. 

Originally, Kento wasn't going to go back to sorcerer work, since he didn't want to risk his life and leave you alone, but after you had left and he thought it over again, he decided he would accept Gojo’s request for his assistance.

He had decided on his plan. Once this final mission in Shibuya is all said and done, he'd leave for Malaysia, and maybe, just maybe finally have a better life for himself there.

What could possibly go wrong?

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Love was something Toji never thought he'd ever try again. He had no interest in commitment in the slightest. If it wasn't just a quick fuck or a dynamic that benefitted him in some way, he truly just couldn’t give a damn.

That was, until you appeared in his life. 

What started out as just a friends with benefits type relationship, it slowly morphed into the both of you desiring more from each other.

You both understood each other. You were both from tragic backgrounds and dark pasts, and you two accepted good with the bad from one another. You two were so happy and in love.

Until the accident.

You were a curse user like him, and went on missions the same way he did. However, one really bad impact to the head had you in the hospital for a good few months. You were in a coma, and everyday he prayed that you would wake up. Although, now he kind of wishes that you did.

When you had awoken, you had lost various memories, including him. You didn't remember meeting him, all the moments you two shared, when he finally started telling you he loved you, none of it. And it killed him, not that he’d ever say it aloud.

When he told you how he was your boyfriend, while yes you found him to be very attractive, you just didn't feel the same about him anymore. You were always a closed off guarded individual due to your trauma. Yet for some reason back then, you allowed him into your heart. This time, however, you had zero interest in that.

Toji felt so many things. He was angry, confused, and heartbroken. How could you not remember all the times you two shared? Why did you not even want to try? Why didn't you care?

All the self improvement you helped him with all went down the drain. He just didn't care about anything or anyone anymore. Losing his first wife was hard, it destroyed him. Now he's losing you, except you're not even actually gone. You're right there, before his eyes, and has to watch you continue to live your life without him. 

“Shiu! That stupid mission was a– oh, um, hi Toji.” You awkwardly greeted him as you entered the office, not expecting to see him during your visit to Shiu. The tension in the room grew thick as Shiu cleared his throat. “I'm uh, gonna go smoke this. I'll be right back.” That bastard.

An awkward silence hung in the air before Toji decided to break it. “So, you seein’ anyone?

“I don't really think that's–”

“It's just a harmless question, doll.” His tone is borderline condescending, you let it slide though. “I was, not anymore though.”

Toji bit back a laugh at that. He liked to believe that deep down in your subconscious, you needed him just the way you always have, and that you’d never find another person who’d make you feel as he did.

“Yeah? And why's that?” He pressed, wanting any indication that his theory had any basis in reality. “Why does even that matter? It’s none of your business.”

You shot him down. Any time you two bumped into each other, he always pulled this. He'd get far too nosy about your dating life and you were tired of it. You understand that you two were in love before and that it's hard for him, but he needed to let it go. You weren’t interested and that was that.

“Ya know, if you ever want–”

“No.”

Toji frowned, irritation bubbling his chest from your immediate rejection. “I wasn't looking for a relationship doll, just a good fuck. You really think I wanna be bothered with you again? I barely wanted to even when we were together.” He spoke harshly, none of his words even being true.

He hated himself for the way he was treating you, but he just couldn't stop himself. Hurt people hurt people, after all.

“Just tell Shiu to call me. I'm leaving.” Before he could say anything, you were already out the door, refusing to take his attitude any longer.

Whatever, he was fine before without you anyway. He'll continue to tell himself that doesn't need you until he finally tricks his mind into believing it's true.

CHOSO

Loud knocks at your door awoke you from your sleep, having fallen asleep by mistake on the couch. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the time. 

Nearly 2AM.

“Y/N?? A-Are you in there? Please I-I just wanna talk.” A once all too familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door, and you knew it was him. 

Choso, the man who apparently was your boyfriend before your accident.

A sigh left your lips, you already knew what this was about. You had blocked him on everything because you believed this would be beneficial to him. You felt this would help him move on, because that's simply what he was going to have to do. Yet he just wouldn't.

You reluctantly made your way to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. He looked like a mess. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy from what you could only assume was from hours of crying. His stripe on his nose was dripping, as if his emotions were pouring from it. He truly looked pitiful.

“Choso..” You felt awful, you really did. You didn't mean to cause this man so much pain and turmoil, but you weren't going to fake being in love with him. That wouldn't make the situation any better.

“W-Why? Y-You– you blocked me? Why?” He stuttered out, once dried tears slowly beginning to wet his face once again as he started to cry, his breaths coming out shaky and broken.

You let him inside, worried about him having an anxiety attack and nosy neighbors being in your business.

“Choso I'm really going to need you to breathe–” The second the door is shut, he’s pulling you in for a tight hug, his body shaking as small cries leave him. “Choso–”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry. I just need t-to touch you” You suppose you could give him this. “Okay but you're squeezing me too tight, you're going to hurt me if you don't loosen up.”

You two stood like that for a few moments. You offered comfort to the best of your ability, rubbing his back soothingly. You knew you needed to calm him down as much as possible for the news you were going to break to him. 

“I think.. we should sit and talk.” Your soft voice broke the silence. You gently removed yourself from his tight hold, guiding him to sit on the couch.

“I.. blocked you because I felt it’s for the best” You turned your head away from him, the sad puppy dog look in his eyes making you feel far too guilty. “I know before my accident we were together and in love but.. I need you to understand that I no longer feel that way. I don't remember you anymore–”

“B-But that doesn't mean you c-can’t remember one day, right? R-Right??” That was something you didn't have an answer for.

“I don’t–”

“B-But you remember everyone else, w-why not me? Why don't you r-remember me?” He begged for an answer, shaky hands coming to hold yours, squeezing them tight. “T-There has to be s-something we can do right? Maybe Shoko could d-do something, anything. We just need to–”

“Choso, please just stop.” You felt a pang in your heart as his shoulders slumped, but you had to throw the cold water in his face. “There is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry, I am. I wish for your sake that I could wake up with all my memories of you back but I just can't. I'm just.. not interested in you in that way anymore.” You slowly pulled your hands from his, resting yours in your lap as you continued. This really sucked. 

“I thought maybe we could be friends, and over time either my memories would return or I'd develop feelings for you again but.. I just don't feel that way towards you. And you're so.. clingy. The way you are is unhealthy Choso. You have to move on.”

His eyes went wide at your words, his world shattering before him as he rapidly shook his head. “No. No no no I-I don't want to do that. I can't do that p-please.”

“You're going to have to. I know I was your first love, but I promise you'll find someone else who will–”

“I-I don't want anyone else I-I want you. I don’t want to e-ever even think about m-my life without you p-please, I’ll do a-anything Y/N please.”

He was becoming hysterical again and you're far too exhausted to be able to properly calm him down. Besides, he'd just do what he's been doing for the last two months. He'll cry and cry until you feel guilty enough to change your mind. Not this time. 

“I'm sorry Choso, but I need you to leave. It’s over” You stood up from the couch, wanting to be done with this conversation. Giving him the cold shoulder was something you didn't necessarily want to do, but he was leaving you with no choice at this point.

As you approached your door to let him out,  you heard a thud from behind you followed by a hand grasping your ankle to prevent you from going any further. The sight before you as turned your head to look only worsened how you felt. 

He was on his knees, his head down, grasping your ankle in a final desperate plea. “P-Please… d-don’t do this to me..” 

It was your turn for your shoulders to slump, but your mind was already made as you whispered “Please, don't make me call Yuji..”

You felt his grip loosen at your words, before completely releasing your ankle. He slowly rose to his feet, his eyes trained on the floor, knowing if he looks at you, he’ll completely crumble and he wouldn’t be able to leave. He doesn’t say another word as he leaves, knowing there’s nothing he could say that would change your mind.

“Goodbye.. Choso.” You said for the last time before closing the door.

[yandere-sins]

Hello, about your miya twin series, who would be the most dangerous and scary twin to deal with? Who would physically punish their darling if she misbehaved? What would a punishment scenario for both of them be like?

Good questions!

From a mental standpoint, I'd say Atsumu is the scarier twin.

He is somewhat laid-back, which would make you think he really isn't that bad, but in what he does, he is unpredictable. You'd think all he really wants is to hang out with his darling, watch movies, share snacks, cuddle, and fool around, but his mood regularly just... snaps. And suddenly, he is violently horny or in the mood to throw you around like a ragdoll. You learn to see the small signs like him grabbing you a little too tight or his eyes just turning ever so slightly darker as you two have a stare-off. But in the end, you can never be too sure when he either has enough of you or wants you more than ever. Atsumu leaves almost all the bruises on your body, is careless enough that you might break a bone if you resist him, and gives you trauma for days that will make you want to avoid him. But you shouldn't. Never deny him what he wants, or you'll suffer even more.

So Osamu is the more dangerous twin.

Osamu has his rules. His routine and how he wants things to be done. Much like his brother, he's not shy about putting you in your place. Still, while Atsumu is physical, Osamu is much more psychological in his abuse. He'll take your food from you if he feels like you don't appreciate it enough. He'll waterboard you in the bathtub if you dare to lock him out. He decides if you get to sleep on the bed between them or if you earned yourself a cold night on the floor. He gives you medicine. He gets you the essentials you need. If he says no clothes, then none of them will let you wear anything for however long Osamu decides. You might fear Atsumu's outbursts, but unless you are in good graces with Osamu, you fear upsetting him at all times and getting punished out of the blue—and most of the time, it's not even your fault. Osamu also gets mad at Atsumu (more than the other way around), and you are taking the fall for it.

Both of them might reason with the other if it benefits them, but you'll never be able to play them against each other. Unless you crave punishment, that is. However, who is the scarier and who is the more dangerous twin might also change daily. You are never safe ;)

Atsumu's punishments are more that he forces you to do something you don't want to do, like humor him once he gets home. He'll force you into a kiss if you don't come up to him and peck him on the cheek and, likewise, will cage you under him on the couch if you refuse to cuddle and watch a movie with him. He's not above forcing himself on you if you refuse his advances, and he doesn't really take care of you unless you are being extra nice to him. He'll cook if Osamu is out, but only if you tell him sweetly that you're hungry and let him coo over you and rub your belly. And then all he pulls from the cupboards is cup ramen.

Strangely enough, Osamu does the same, just differently and on a bigger scale than Atsumu's. Oh, so you don't want to welcome him? Well, no food for you. It's in the fridge, but if you go and get it, he'll put you through hell. Atsumu kept you from coming to him? Too bad. He's asking you to come and warm yourself up because it's cold, but you ignore him? No warm clothes are for you; look how you'll survive the night. It's bathtime, but you locked yourself into the bath alone? Someone doesn't want the privacy of a door or to be in the bathroom alone ever again.

For both, it's about making your life inconvenient unless you do exactly what they want. Which can be, as mentioned before, difficult because they change their minds like they change underwear. But being affectionate and inviting is always the right thing to do; it just really sucks when they'll eagerly take you up on any of your offers, rarely refusing even if you change your mind fast.

Hope that answered your questions! Thanks for asking!! I love the two of them so much ♥♥♥

[paintedkinzy-88]

I have a 12AM idea that I’ll never do anything with but I want everyone to suffer with me.

When Splinter got the Rise boys, he assumed their ages based on their size: Raph was oldest, then Donnie, then Leo, and then Mikey. And April was their big sister. They’ve lived by this standard, it has always been true, no one has questioned it, and everyone ultimately likes their role!

Ya got big, protective, teddy bear older brother; book smart, chaotic, but also very protective older twin; street smart, also chaotic, gremlin child, gay younger twin; and the emotionally smart, empathetic, impressionable, heart of the group youngest.

Then Mikey befriends/reverse-adopts Draxum. Who looks at them like they are stupid when he hears this family dynamic... And proceeds to absolutely shatter their world. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Leo hatched first, by a significant amount of time, making him the oldest, then Raph, then Donnie, and Mikey stays the youngest. Like so many other TMNT iterations. Rise!Splinter just got it wrong.

Cutting so this isn’t super long on my page:

Now Raph is struck with this realization that he may be the biggest brother, but he is not the big brother. And that’s been like. His thing. Protecting his younger bros, always being there for his younger bros, keeping this damn family in line, laying down punishments and lectures and the such when need to or when Splinter isn’t there. But that’s no longer his responsibility. That was never his responsibility. But he doesn’t want to give that up! He doesn’t think he CAN tone that down and be more carefree (more than he already is I mean, bro is still a kid).

Donnie has been shot down from his title of big brother and oldest twin. He is now one of the youngest. He may not be as commanding as Raph, but he was sure as shit the second in command a lot of the time. Aside from his chaotic, semi-lethal tendencies, Raph could usually trust him to keep himself and the others in line when it really matters. Heck, Donnie was probably the one Raph took to the surface the most to get supplies once he hit a less shy age, because Donnie wouldn’t wonder off like the others. But now, what he has known as truth is not accurate at all. He’s more shaken by the fact they’ve all been wrong for their entire lives, and that he’s the younger twin (no, he’s not even a twin at all, why does that freak him out so much), so he doesn’t really fear any relationship between them changing.

Leo has the most dramatic change though… He’s one of the goofballs! Both a younger brother and a middle child, thriving in the childish chaos and vague invisibility as he’s able to generally be silly and not face consequences. He doesn’t have those expectations on him, nor does he want it like Raph does! But now, he’s been shoved to the top. Is he supposed to be like Raph now? Does he have to take total control? Be more responsible, more genuinely confident, more practical? The thought alone is stressing him tf out. He was already questioning his role on the team, he doesn’t need to feel like he’s REALLY been doing less than he should have been!

Meanwhile, Mikey’s watching his family fall apart and bicker and stress themselves out.

Ultimately, they decide it doesn’t fuckin matter. They are comfortable in their family roles, and that doesn’t need to change. The whole situation may have brought some concerns to light (namely: Raph’s stress, Leo’s insecurity and invisibility, Donnie’s need to fix everything to support them all, and Mikey’s overwhelming emotional empathy) but that’s probably for the better!

Still, that bombshell definitely screwed up the family for a good few weeks while they figured themselves out all over again.

[mxlti-lover]

Missing Touch {L.P.}

Summary: You never wanted the boys finding out about you suffering with severe anxiety, but one night when Luke finds you having an attack alone in your room, it’s the hardest thing he’s had to deal with when it comes to touch.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, a couple swear words.

Word Count: 744

You have known the boys for a month now.

It took you a while to process the fact you were seeing 3 ghosts and your twin sister, Julie, was now forming a band with them.

You also couldn’t figure out how only you and Julie could see the boys; especially considering you didn’t really have a reasoning on how you could help the boys out. Julie was always the musician out of the both of you.

You weren’t complaining though. After getting to know the boys and slowly getting closer to them, you were happy to have them in your life. Especially Luke.

When you first met them, it seemed as though you and Luke clicked right away; a spark as some would say. He was the first person to go to when you had a problem you didn’t really want to tell anyone close to you about. And he was always coming to you about any band troubles.

The only thing the boys didn’t really know about you yet is how badly you suffered from anxiety. It’s not that you didn’t not want to tell them, you just didn’t want them worrying about you.

That all changed thought when Luke appeared one day while you were having an attack.

• ~ • ~ •

You knew exactly what had triggered your anxiety attack. The math test handed back to you this morning with the F that mocked back at you. You failed. You couldn’t believe it as you always have straight A’s, a 4.0 GPA and even on the honor roll a few times. AP Algebra has been the one subject that’s been nipping you in the ass. You were trying to hide it from your dad - deleting any emails sent to him right away - along with trying to hide it from your aunt Victoria. Though you knew the school probably talked to her about it already.

The attack came on fast as the feeling of stress soon consumed you, making you feel even more overwhelmed. You closed your eyes as you tried to focus on your breathing, but your chest only tightened on you more and the air escaped from your lungs quickly.

You hadn’t even noticed when Luke popped into your room, excited to tell you about a gig Julie and the phantoms had coming up this weekend.

But as soon as he saw you, the excitement quickly washed away and worry soon etched across his face.

He quickly rushed over to you instinctively, but when he went right through you, he realized the one thing he wanted to do, he couldn’t.

Sadness washed over him as he attempted one more time to pull you to him, knowing it would fail miserably.

He sat down as close to you as possible as he watched you.

“I don’t know what’s going on bug, but I know you’re strong enough to fight through it. Just focus on my voice and please don’t give up on those deep breaths.” He spoke softly catching your attention.

You look up at him as you let out a small gasp as he startled you. You shake your head as you didn’t want him to have to see you like this.

“Please…go.” You spoke out the best you could, another small gasp escaping past your lips.

“I’m not leaving Y/N. You shouldn’t be alone like this.” Luke says moving his hand to place on top of yours, ignoring the fact it didn’t actually touch you.

“I-I’m fine…please. just go.” You mumbled as you looked away from him, moving your knees to be tucked close to your chest.

“You can argue with me all you want, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you bug.” Luke spoke to you in a gentle tone and you couldn’t argue with him that just him being there made your stress slowly wash away.

You didn’t want him seeing you like this, but there wasn’t much you couldn’t do about it. It’s not like you could push him out of your room or something.

Luke watched as you struggled to catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks. He hated how he couldn’t hold you. That’s all he wanted to do. Hug you and whisper nonsense into your ear until you were okay again.

But he couldn’t. Missing touch was the hardest thing Luke had to come to terms with as a ghost.

…the one thing he missed the most.

•~•~•~

Note: I haven’t wrote a fanfic in a long time, so please be nice.🙃

[fernweh-writes]

Hi :3 i want to ask about the slashers reaction to an s/o who take care of them because they are sick

I have been so excited about getting around to answering this one. This is actually an idea I have had for awhile so I am glad you asked!

-Fern

Sick Slashers x GN!S/O

Michael Myers

Michael doesn't get sick very often but when he does it's pretty bad. Usually he just suffers through it and is down for a few days before he gets back on his feet. Before you he's never had anyone to take care of him so he's not used to it in the slightest.

At first he tries to reject any sort of medicine that you try to give him. The best way to go about it is act like you're giving medicine to a picky dog and hide it in his food. He will be none the wiser unless he sees you do it. If he sees you do it he no longer trusts your food. How could you betray his trust like that?

If he's feeling really bad he prefers to be left alone. Michael is already antisocial he doesn't want you being all up under him when he feels miserable. However, as he's beginning to feel better he doesn't mind all the attention and doting but would deny he does.

He is quick to accept you petting his hair as a form of comfort while he is sick though. It helps soothe him and helps him fall asleep when he's not feeling well.

Bo Sinclair

This man adores you taking care of him. He is a slut for attention and affection especially from you. Bo will melt when you bring him medicine and hot soup and remind him to stay hydrated while he's sick.

Will 100% play up how sick he is in order to make you tend to him more. He loves the attention too much to ever want to get better. He would also be the one to get a "man cold". The sniffles could take him out.

Acts all pitiful just so you'll lay with him and rub his back or play with his hair so that he will feel better. Adores having his back rubbed, Bo swears having you scratch his back is the sure to anything.

Having you take care of him when he is under the weather definitely plays into his domestic fantasy that he has. In his eyes it's only right you tend to him after all he does to provide for you, even if he is milking it.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is one to make himself sick by overworking himself. He isn't well known for taking care of himself. He often ignores his own needs for the sake of spending more time working on his art. Three meals a day is a waste of creative time.

Does his best to push through whatever sickness has him feeling down. Is the exact opposite of his twin when it comes to being sick. He will do his best to ignore it until he physically can't. Even then he's reluctant to have you taking care of him.

Vincent hates feeling like a chore when you take care of him. Despite your constant reassurance he still feels somewhat guilty you're dedicating so much time to him. Although, it does reassure him of your feelings for him.

Is grateful for every medicine, food, and drink you bring him. He also adores when you lay with him and rub his back or stroke his hair in order to help soothe him. He'll make sure to return the favor whenever he's feeling back to himself again.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas really cannot afford to be sick seeing as he's the sole provider for the entire Hewitt household. When he gets sick, many things around the property don't get done. Because of this, Thomas does his best to keep going even when he's sick.

Appreciates the time you spend taking care of him when he's sick. You always make sure to check on him if he's working while sick and bring him anything he needs. When he is sick enough to have to rest he loves the way you dote on him and tend to his every need even if he does feel somewhat bad about it.

You also do your best to do what chores of his that you can in order to keep the whole household from falling apart. But no one can manage everything like Tommy.

He's especially appreciative of anything you cook for him while he's sick. Thomas' favorite thing however is how you rub his back and run your fingers through his hair to help soothe him to sleep.

Brahms Heelshire

We all already know that Brahms requires 24/7 attention. However, it somehow gets worse when he's sick. Brahms will somehow manage to become even needier than he normally is and he will whine a lot more.

Absolutely refuses to take any medicine so you'll have to find creative ways to sneak it to him. After all, Brahms is picky so it can be hard to find a way to hide it in his food. He'll know if you slipped it into his drink because he'll realize the change in taste.

Begs to have his back rubbed or scratched and his head petted. Brahms claims that it makes him feel a million times better so yes you have to do it for the thirty minutes it takes him to fall asleep.

Having you tend to him so much does however put Brahms in a sweeter mood. He is less likely to lash out when you're bringing him food and rubbing his back. It also takes up too much of his energy to throw a tantrum while he's sick.

Billy Loomis

He eats it up when you take care of him while he's sick. It will make Billy way more attached to you when you take care of him. Probably because of his mommy issues.

His favorite soup for when he's sick is definitely chicken noodle soup, after all, it's a classic. Billy doesn't mind if you just heat it up out of the can but you get bonus points if it's home made. The extra time and effort makes it taste better in his opinion.

Billy is compliant when it comes to taking whatever medicine you give him. If it's cough syrup just make sure he has something to wash it down with. It's almost scary how compliant he is to take a pill you've handed to him.

Adores the back rubs and head scratches. It will lull him right to sleep and nothing cures being sick like a good old nap. However, you can expect him to be quick to ask for back rubs once he's feeling better.

Stu Macher

Stu is pretty used to taking care of himself seeing as his parents are gone pretty often. Usually when he's sick he just sleeps until he feels better. Having you take the time to take care of him is something new to him but he thoroughly enjoys it.

Stu is dramatic so you can expect him to play up how sick he is in order to get more attention from you. Overall can be pretty needy when he's sick.

Begs for a very specific soup from a very specific place and tells you that if you really love him you will go get if for him. If you don't go get it for him he is going to die right then and there out of spite.

Begs for you to lay with him and give him attention to help him feel better. He just wants to cuddle with you while he naps, it helps him sleep. However, the back rubs and head pets are an added bonus.

Jesse Cromeans

Jesse has a very efficient way of taking care of himself and rarely gets sick. Even when he does get sick, he can typically tough it out and keep going. Despite this, he does still appreciate you taking care of him when he's feeling under the weather.

His favorite thing that you do to take care of him is cook for him. Jesse loves when you cook for him, it makes him feel special. You get bonus points if you're a good cook and make something special for him when he's sick.

Back rubs are his favorite. Jesse will rest often when he's sick to get back on his feet quicker and he adores you rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Jesse also appreciates just having you with him when he's not feeling well as a comfort. It eases his worrying knowing you're close by. Having you fret over him and take care of him is just an added bonus.

Asa Emory

Asa rarely gets sick. If he does ever get sick, he does his best to hide it from you. He hates feeling vulnerable in any way and needing you to take care of him would do exactly that.

You would have to of been with Asa for awhile in order to see him when he's sick. However, he does appreciate the way you worry over him. It lets him know he has you wrapped around his finger the way he wants.

His favorite thing is the home cooked meals you make when he is sick. If you are a good cook expect him to require you to make him home cooked meals from now on.

Overall, doesn't need your help much and pushes through whatever has him feeling under the weather. Asa refuses to take a day off to relax or rest, he is much too busy.

[cartoonsinthemorning]

You got me reading Combat Baby, Come Back, and now all I can think about is time-dilation stangst. Ford telling Stan all about his adventures in the portal and Stan being secretly jealous that Ford got to do all the travelling and exploring that they had dreamed about all on his own, and now he’s 30s years older and Stan’s thinking that it’s so unfair that he even grew old without him, and that they’ll never get to sail the world together now (they do, they do, but getting to that point is a journey in and of itself)

I don't know how I got you to read it, but I'm very glad you did! First, because it's a masterpiece, a delicacy that every Stancester should go read, enjoy, and praise the author for writing. Second, because you come back here and you shoot me in the heart with this?? This angst that breaks my heart too? Thanks, I love it. But my brain needs some comfort, too, so what I'm enjoying to imagine if a fluff spin on this scenario: 30s Stan pouting and openly grumbling about the unfairness of it all- and Ford being distracted, not fully absorbing the angst, because GOD this Stan looks SO cute, and, in his eyes, so young. Ford would have this blissed, contemplative smile on his face, because his travels also involved danger and suffering, and it was essentially a banishment- so Stan's frustrations comes across as the whining of a spoiled kid, to him. From Ford's point of view, not growing old together is indeed unfair- to himself, rather. He's the one that got older, while his own twin is still young, with so much time ahead of himself, and without the scars that the multiverse can, and definitely would, impart travelers. And, if at this point of the story, Ford's resentment already melted away, then said outburst from Stan would come across as sweet, if not a bit selfish, but surely not infuriating. Charming, really. Meanwhile, if Stan caught Ford smiling at him like that, he'd find it smug and condescending and aggravating, lmao. But again, even if he threw something at his brother, Ford would just dodge it and find the temper tantrum quite adorable. If Ford proposed, in attempt to appease Stan, they may do that now- the may sail the world together, have their adventures, grow older together- even if, well, at a different rate. If Stan doesn't mind spending his thirties alone at sea with his much older, "insufferably smug", twin, of course- But he wouldn't even end the sentence because Stan would be hugging him so hard, squeezing all the air out of him.

[vindicated-truth]

Jeongje,

I assume Joowon-ah has given you this letter during one of his visits. Said something about including it in the gift he has prepared for you.

You know he now only has a Lieutenant’s salary, right? He lost access to all of his family’s money, because he didn’t listen to me when I warned him that he shouldn’t ruin his life for me.

He’s an idiot.

But he’s an adult with freewill, and it’s still his money, so of course I have no say on what he chooses to spend it on.

Besides, I don’t begrudge him choosing to spend it on you. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to be alone.

I never wanted that for you, Jeongje.

That’s why I’m glad Joowon-ah is making sure you aren’t. Because… I can’t be that person for you.

Not anymore.

It’s why I’m writing you this letter. Because I want you to know why.

Because I’m sorry, Jeongje. I’m sorry because… I can’t forgive you.

And it’s not because I’ve stopped caring for you. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt this much if I did.

I really wish I did.

But the reason why I can’t forgive you is that the forgiveness isn’t mine to give.

The one person who has the right to forgive you is dead.

Because you killed her.

And I’m not saying this because I want to punish you, either. Because contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to suffer anymore.

You’ve suffered enough. And I know that because I’ve seen that in Joowon-ah, too.

No one deserves to suffer, Jeongje. Not you. Not him.

But the forgiveness isn’t mine to give. It’s Yuyeonie’s.

I’m hurting because I lost a sister. My parents are hurting because they lost their daughter.

And I know you’re hurting too. Because you, too, lost the one you love.

I’ve always known, you know. Both of you had never been good at hiding it. It hurt that you two believed you had to, but—you made her happy, Jeongje. Yuyeonie had never been able to hide that. And to be honest, neither did you. And I can never, ever begrudge how you made each other happy.

Which is why I know… you’re hurting, too.

It’s the one thing you and I have in common, even after all this time.

You and I… we both lost her.

But all our pain, Jeongje… it’s all secondary. None of our pain compares to what she lost.

She lost her life.

She lost a future that should have been hers. You know she wanted to be a lawyer, right? But do you know the kind of lawyer she wanted to be?

She had a very clear vision of the life she wanted for herself. She’d sit at the foot of my bed while I’d practice on my worn-out guitar and she’d regale me tales of how she wanted to be a lawyer who defended women.

Her ideals were way ahead of her time. She said our society was too patriarchal, that it was a society where women didn’t feel safe, and she wanted to change that.

She wanted to be a lawyer so she could be a safe space for all these women who were victims of the cruelty and violence of men. She wanted to be the kind of woman she herself needed.

She would’ve been the kind of woman who could’ve stopped women like her from being killed by men.

Which is why it was such a cruel twist of fate that her life ended precisely like that.

I always wonder, Jeongje… how many women would’ve also been saved had she grown up to be the kind of woman she wanted to be? A woman who protected women?

Would she have been able to protect our Minjeongie too?

Did you know that she had always been wary of Kang Jinmook? She didn’t dare say it directly because I think she might have been scared back then, too. But she would always tell me, casually but consistently, how it might be better for Minjeongie if we adopt her as soon as it was legally possible.

Do you know what I told her back then, Jeongje? That she was being ableist. That she was looking down on Jinmook’s capability as a father just because he was mentally disabled.

Turned out he wasn’t. He was just evil.

And she was right.

Even back then, Jeongje, she was right. And I didn’t listen to her. Her own twin brother didn’t listen to her.

How unforgivable is that?

Can you imagine what our society would’ve been like if someone with her brains and her advocacy had lived to see her dream come true? Can you imagine, Jeongje, how different things would’ve been if only our society listened to women more? If only we listened to our Yuyeonie more?

She could’ve saved so many women, Jeongje. And now—

Now, we’ll never know. Because she’s dead.

We all lost a sister, a daughter, a friend, a lover. None of that compares to what she lost.

She lost her life. She lost her dream. She lost her advocacy. She lost her future.

And that’s the reason why, Jeongje. Why the forgiveness should come from her.

It had never, ever been my right to give.

It’s why I can’t forgive you. Because the one person who has the right to gift you that forgiveness—is dead.

And I’m sorry, Jeongje. I’m sorry because that’s the reason why… I can’t let you back into my life.

Not anymore.

Because I love her, Jeongje. I love her more than anything in the world, more than anyone I’ll ever love in my life.

She’s my twin, Jeongje. I had never known what it’s like to be alone because from the moment we were conceived in our mother’s womb, she had always been there. She had always been beside me. She was the other half of my soul.

Do you know what it feels like to lose the other half your soul?

Then again, maybe you do.

You love her, too.

I don’t know if she would have forgiven you. Fuck, I don’t know if she would have forgiven me. But that’s our punishment, Jeongje. That’s the pain we all have to live with: that we will never know. Because none of us have the right to take that away from her.

The right to forgive.

Because contrary to what you might think—I don’t want to lose you as a friend.

I miss you, more than you could ever know. More than you could ever hope to understand.

But it’s a loss I have to live with. It’s a loss I choose to live with. Because she’s the only one who could have granted you that forgiveness. And we all have to live with never knowing if she ever will.

I can’t let you back into my life, Jeongje—because I don’t know if Yuyeonie would’ve forgiven you for me to let you.

For me to have you back.

I am not the one who has the right to forgive you, so I am also not the one who has the right to punish you.

So please, Jeongje. Don’t suffer anymore. Not for my sake.

Don’t be alone anymore.

Both of you.

Your friend,

Dongsik

—

Dongsik-ah,

Did you know what Lieutenant Han was going to give me? Because you should’ve talked him out of it still, never mind that it’s his money he’s spending. I’m not going to risk your ire by telling you how much he spent, because I actually know how much all of it cost, but I really hope you’re at least treating him to dinner for a month because I can’t imagine how he’d be able to afford to feed himself after this.

Or maybe just let Jaeyi-ya treat him. I’ve heard he’s been frequenting the butcher shop more often lately.

I’m glad. He deserves to be fed.

He deserves to be happy.

He’s a good guy, Dongsik-ah. You know that, right?

You might be wondering why this prince who has fallen from grace keeps going out on a limb for someone like me.

I’ll tell you why, Dongsik-ah. It’s because he’s lonely.

In the kindest way I can tell you this, I don’t think you’ll ever understand Lieutenant Han. And it’s not because he was brought up in a life of luxury and privilege that the rest of us can only imagine.

But because you were loved, Dongsik-ah.

You and Yuyeonie—both of you were brought up in love.

I think that’s part of why I stayed over at your house a lot, even when we were kids. I was drawn to your family, because I badly wished I had a family like yours. You can’t imagine the kind of envy I felt seeing how your parents are.

You had that ridiculous dream of becoming a singer, even though Jihwa-ya kept telling you to your face that you couldn’t hold a tune to save a life. Yet your parents supported your dream all the same, and had never once compared you to Yuyeonie.

You know, I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion she was tone-deaf too, mostly because I couldn’t understand why she’d keep clapping for you every time you'd “perform” for us during family nights.

I’d been a part of your family for that long.

I never had any of that. And I think—that’s why Lieutenant Han is drawn to me.

Because he never experienced that kind of love, either. And he knows what it’s like to be alone.

That’s why he’s making sure I’m not. Even when I deserve to be.

Because he knows exactly what it’s like.

And I don’t think it’s as selfless as you think, Dongsik-ah. I think—he just wants someone to understand what he’s been through, too.

Because you’ll never be that person for him.

Because you were never abused by your parents, Dongsik-ah, the way Lieutenant Han was. And he’s drawn to me, because I’m someone who understands that the most.

Between the both of us though, I honestly believe I still had it better. And this isn’t false modesty or debt of gratitude or anything like that. My mother was evil, too, but in her own way, she did love me.

At the very least, until the very end, she had never abandoned me.

Even when it meant she had to hurt you instead.

That’s something Lieutenant Han never even had.

He never had a family.

And that’s the reason why I’m writing you this letter, in return.

Because you’re right, Dongsik-ah. I don’t belong in your life anymore.

I belong to the past. And I deserve to stay there.

Do you know why, Dongsik-ah?

Because that’s where Yuyeonie is.

You’re right. I don’t know if she would ever forgive me. But that’s okay. I’m not doing this for my forgiveness.

Because you’re right, Dongsik-ah. I did love her. I love her, still, even when she might not want that love anymore, after everything I did.

After everything I failed to do.

But that’s also why, Dongsik-ah. Why I want to stay in the past. Why I choose to stay in the past. Because that’s where she is. That’s how I choose to live the rest of my life.

Immortalizing her memory.

That’s why I gave you that sketchbook. To the best of my ability, Dongsik-ah, until my last breath—this is how I choose to love her.

I will never let her memory die.

This is how I choose to live the rest of my life in penance.

The people who have hurt you, the people who hurt Yuyeonie and your family—we all belong to the past. That’s why we all belong in prison, because it’s keeping us there.

But you, Dongsik-ah—you don’t belong to the past. Not anymore. There’s no more reason for you to stay there.

Because you have a future with him.

And that’s where the problem lies, you see. It’s precisely because he equates himself with me that he thinks he deserves to stay in the past, too.

He was never there, Dongsik-ah. Because his own monster of a father sent him far, far away, where he was forced to look for love in all the wrong places, when he should have already found it first in his own home. His own family.

You and Yuyeonie showed me that.

I don’t think he did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so utterly deprived of it. Starved of it.

Until he found you.

You told me, Dongsik-ah, how you will never love anyone the way you loved Yuyeonie, ever again. And you asked me if I know how it feels like to lose the other half of your soul.

I do, Dongsik-ah. But I don’t think that’s the point.

We weren’t supposed to replace her.

We’re simply allowed to love again.

I’m allowed to have a friend again. One who chooses to starve for a month because he doesn’t know how to love halfway and he always gives it his all in everything he does.

I agree with you, by the way. He is an idiot.

But you know what, Dongsik-ah?

I’ve come to love this idiot, too.

And if I’m allowed to have a friend again… you’re allowed to rebuild the other half of your soul again.

You’re allowed to not let yourself be alone anymore.

You’re allowed to love again.

Dongsik-ah… Han Joowon is like me. But at the same time, he isn’t.

Because he belongs to your future. If you let him.

And this is why I'm writing you this letter, too.

Please don't let my friend starve anymore.

Your friend,

Han Joowon’s friend,

Jeongje

[abiiors]

queen of hearts // matty healy x reader

valentine's week - day 6: queen of hearts

a/n: this is. Not Good. the burnout is hitting me now lol this is okayish now after the major edit wc: breakups i think but that's it cw: 4.1 k

“i can be your date to the awards.”

matty’s words freeze you in your tracks and you whip your head to him, almost dropping your coffee in the process. he’s half-leaning half-sitting on the table, flicking through a trashy tabloid of all things that you wish would set on fire right about now. but it doesn’t. and so matty continues to flick through it without even looking up at you while he’s just dropped this bomb on you. 

you know what’s caught his fancy… you know there’s going to be some iteration of “the queen of hearts suffers heartbreak” in there. (because let’s face it, the tabloids are never creative enough to think of other headlines and they’ve used this one almost every time you’ve had a public break up before) 

you suppose you should count your lucky stars they didn’t find out right away, that you at least got three months to yourself before the news first broke. 

“what makes you think i need a date?”

he thumbs over to another page, still looking just as insufferably cool as ever. “your ex is going. ooohh, ouch! he’s going with someone you’re up against in almost every category, babe.”

“i don’t care,” you turn your nose up at him, “and don’t call me babe.”

matty puts the magazine down and finally looks at you. 

from the corner of your eye you catch the headline—the queen of heartbreak—along with a photo of you and jack, a dramatic slash going between the two of you. you remember that night, you remember going to a charity gala with him and sneaking out to make out in one of the forgotten hallways. you remember feeling invisible in the best of ways for the first time in your life. 

a pang goes through your chest and you bring your attention back to matty. 

“in fact, i might not even go.”

“really?” he raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms in front of him. your eyes betray you by flicking to his biceps that strain against the sleeve of the flannel he’s wearing, but you quickly look back at him and blink the thoughts away. 

you sigh, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “no, that’s– yeah, no. skipping's not an option. my publicist would kill me. plus, they already have a dress for me and it’s too gorgeous to be wasted like this.”

“and you think going solo is a good idea,” his eyes flick to the tabloid and you can already see the headlines that would be written about you. all the staged and well-timed photos of you sneaking even a single glance at jack and his date, all the speculation of jealousy and cheating. just think about it makes your temples ache. 

“no… i guess not.”

matty grins, “so take me as your date then.”

you take a moment to assess him. he’s certainly hot, (objectively speaking, of course) and going with him would create a…splash to say the least. and if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda dig the anti hero persona he’s got going at the moment. 

on the other hand, your publicist might blow a blood vessel trying to clean up your image. 

you look at the tabloid again, at the “queen of heartbreak” printed in big bold ugly letters all across the front page. it’s fucking tiring being so synonymous with love songs. it’s tiring singing about romance and yearning and love while your happily ever after comes crumbling all around you. 

“okay,” you say and matty smiles wide. you smile back. 

and for the first time in three months, it’s a real genuine smile. 

you see him around the studio a few more times after that—sometimes with his band, sometimes alone. mostly he’s running around, busy with his own thing and not really playing much attention to anyone around him. you on the other hand, sit in the twin of his studio space.

on most days your head feels empty, not a single song lyric or even a catchy riff in there. not a single thing scribbled in your notebook for months. you know what’s expected of you—another romance pop album to sweep everyone off their feet. your management has been very clear about that—it’s what gets the numbers and it’s what they want from you. 

it doesn’t matter what you want. it’s never mattered. 

you try everything—walking around the property with your notebook in your hands, hoping to find some inspiration. you listen to your old songs, cringing at how empty they sound, how soulless and exactly like the one before. happy to the point of feeling cognitive dissonance. 

as a last resort, you even look up photos of you and jack, just to see if it would spark…anything. 

all it does is annoy you more. he’s already got a new girlfriend, the same girl who’s supposed to be his date. you imagine the buzz around their red carpet debut and then think back to your own—how much the tabloid had gushed over you, calling you the perfect couple. a couple that just “made sense”

the perfect king to their queen of hearts.

you close your eyes and lean your head back against the bark of a tree. it’s nice here at least, it’s calm. the place is so far away from the city, you could just disappear for a few months and just not do anything. 

but peace has never come to you without a price. 

not even five minutes later, a loud guitar riff splits the air followed by raucous laughter. (it’s surprising to you that you already recognise matty’s laugh) standing up, you dust off your jeans and follow the sounds. the guitar only gets louder the more you walk, until you see a group of people around a little barbecue. 

matty’s holding his guitar like a classic douchebag rockstar, sunglasses dangling over his nose and arm muscles flexed and veins taut against his forearms as he strums the bright red guitar. it’s so much different from what their music usually sounds like. the notes aren’t very loud or angry but they’re certainly powerful. stronger than anything you’ve ever played before.  

it makes you stop in your tracks and watch him. 

you just stand there—captivated by the music, captivated by him. it only takes matty a couple more seconds to notice you, and you look away, flustered. 

“enjoying the show?” he asks, a sly grin playing on his lips. warmth creeps up your cheeks. 

“no, sorry. i was just round the corner and heard you. sorry didn’t mean to intrude—”

“relax,” he laughs and sets the guitar aside. you recognise the others behind him—his band, for one. you’ve seen the other three men with him in countless photos and award shows but the others are unfamiliar. 

“that was… really good,” you laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ears. matty’s eyes follow the movement. “something new?”

“something old actually. very old. it’s called 28, from when we used to perform under drive like i do.”

that’s news to you so you just nod your head, unsure what to say. “it sounded really good. powerful.”

matty’s eyes flick over your face for a moment, taking you in with such intensity that you feel utterly shy for a moment, almost like a part of you is laid bare—there’s no creative makeup to conceal imperfections on your face, no team of stylists to dress you and style your hair. in front of matty, in just jeans and a t-shirt and your hair in a braid, you’re just…a person. as ordinary as it gets. 

“didn’t think it would be your kind of music,” he says after a second and you look down, toeing the grass. 

“i didn’t either…” the words are so soft, they’re barely audible. matty opens his mouth to say something but panic shoots through you like a spear. you know he’s going to ask you to join, and music is the last thing on your mind. 

“i gotta go,” you mumble, already backing away. matty’s face shifts from a smile to a confused frown. he lifts his hand, almost wraps his fingers around your wrist but matty thinks better of it at the last moment and drops it. 

you don’t stay long enough to hear what he says, you just run back to the studio and try to forget this ever happened. 

the days leading up to the awards are a whirlwind of preparations—from dress fittings to speech preparation to meeting with stylists, it’s exhausting. at least it keeps your mind off, well, everything else. but mostly it keeps you too busy to interact with any more journalists or paps. the most they get are photos of you going to a couple dress fittings and back to your car. 

none of it distracts you from matty though. even though you haven’t since him the weeks that you’ve been back in the city (he’s still back in the studio), you find yourself lingering on thoughts of him throughout the day. even though you haven’t talked to him since then, you find yourself wishing you’d exchanged phone numbers. 

but most surprisingly, you don’t think about jack at all. not even once (unless his face just so happens to be on some magazine cover or the other). he simply exists in the periphery, mostly out of sight and out of mind. 

your publicist, emma, does blow a blood vessel when you first tell her about bringing matty as your plus one. she’s older than most other people on your team, has been in this industry far longer than you have, so her disapproval stings a bit. 

“matty? healy? are you sure about that?” she side-eyes you when you first break the news to her, taking you aback just a bit. 

“why, what’s wrong with him?”

she chews on her bottom lip for a second and you hold your breath, waiting for her to flat-out say that this is a bad idea. “he’s not the most…popular right now.”

you roll your eyes. “well if that’s the only thing that’s wrong with him then i’d still like to take him.” and then as an afterthought, you add a “please”. 

“fine,” she shrugs and that is the end of that. she asks no more questions, makes none of her personal feelings known. and while on some days you appreciate that degree of professionalism, on others you just need…a friend. 

but emma goes back on her phone, already making a call to someone and you swallow all the words that are on the tip of your tongue. 

your heart’s in your throat from the moment you step inside the limousine. it’s standard for you—get inside the car, stare outside from the heavily tinted windows until it’s time to compose yourself for the cameras. somehow, tonight feels different, and definitely not because you have more nominations than you’ve had ever before. 

“where’s matty?” you ask emma who’s texting on her phone. 

“oh, we’re picking him up from his hotel. ten more minutes.”

with trembling fingers you unlock your phone, getting the pin wrong twice before searching him up on instagram. without his number that’s the only way you have to contact him and you wonder if he’s even going to check his instagram dms. but you send out a quick prayer and type out a message anyway. 

ready for tonight?

i guess i should say sorry in advance for all the dating rumours we’re about to fuel

then you cringe and stare out the window again, wondering if that was too forward of you to say. it has been weeks since you talked to him afterall. who knows if he’s even excited about this anymore or if he’s simply doing it as an obligation. 

your phone buzzes with an incoming dm. 

ready and waiting :)

and being linked to you doesn’t sound so bad

in spite of the rumours, that makes you smile, and the car takes a turn towards the driveway of a swanky hotel. almost reflexively, you fix your hair (they’re perfectly done) and smooth any folds in your dress (it fits you like a glove). it’s only the lack of a mirror that stops you from obsessively checking your makeup but you still take a quick glance at your phone’s screen and make sure everything’s in place.

it shouldn’t be this nerve-wracking. it’s just an award show, you’ve done this a hundred times in the past but then the car rolls to a stop and suddenly someone’s opening the door. 

you smell him before you see him—expensive perfume and cigarettes, like it’s his signature scent. and then you see him. 

matty’s in a sleek black tux, curls tamed for the night with some hair gel and even then some of them manage to escape, falling on his forehead and into his eyes. his eyes look darker somehow, more intense, and they widen when his gaze lands on you. 

against your better judgment, you feel a sense of satisfaction when his gaze trails down to the low, low neckline of your dress and back up to your red-painted lips. then back to your eyes before matty clears his throat and gets inside the car. you take advantage of his distraction to steal another look at him. and yep, he’s just as hot as always. 

if anything, the tux makes him almost irresistible. 

“hi,” he smiles, right next to you now and you try not to lean into his warmth. 

“hi” you smile back, uncharacteristically shy. “ready for tonight?”

“you already asked me that.”

colour blooms on your cheeks and you look away for a second, mortified that you have nothing else to say but a second later matty snickers making you roll your eyes at him. 

“relax, sweetheart. we’ll be great.” his eyes slide up your face again, dipping to your mouth just for half a second, quick enough that you would have missed it if you blinked. “why are you nervous anyway. thought you’d be a pro by now.”

“‘s not that, i just– the vultures,” you surprise yourself with how intense you sound then, how angry. “sorry, the press. they’d probably leave no chance to find links between me and jack and i’m just… fed up. i’ve had enough now.”

“the vultures,” he says pointedly, “can suck my dick—”

“matty!”

“no i’m serious.” 

you look at him properly then, at how earnest he looks. then matty places his hand right next to yours, palm up and open. “we’ll do it together.”

you can only manage a nod, and then you place your hand in his, mentally preparing yourself for the chaos. 

as the car pulls up to the red carpet, everything suddenly feels charged as a livewire. the flashing lights, the screams of fans, and the swarm of photographers are all part of the routine. still, it never gets old. 

still, you never fully get used to it. 

matty’s first to step out, extending his hand out to you—the absolute portrait of a gentleman—and so you take it, stepping out of the limousine. the moment your feet touch the carpet, the cameras go wild.

matty’s hand around yours is warm, comforting. it astonishes you how familiar it feels despite holding his hand for the first time. and even though you can barely hear anything over the camera shutters and the shouts of “look over here”, you can make out him mouthing “i’ve got you.”

right as you walk up to the centre of it all and stop for photos, matty turns towards you and leans in. you freeze, trying hard to hold the camera-ready smile on your phone but his face is so close to yours, his hand so big around yours. 

“by the way,” he says, his lips grazing your ear, “you look stunning tonight.” 

the cameras erupt into more clicks, the shouts and cheers go wild. you know what moment they’ve just captured—matty, almost kissing the shell of your ear and you going the same shade of red as the carpet. your stomach swirls with butterflies even though the nerves are ever present. a pleasant shiver runs down your spine. 

matty’s already facing the cameras once again, staring them down and giving them a gorgeous smile that has your heart skipping a beat. 

before you have the chance to overthink it, you stand on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a perfect red lipstick mark behind. his jaw goes slack, his grip around your hand loosens. not even a second later, you feel the same hand around your waist, pulling you into him, surrounding you with his scent. 

“oh we’re giving a show tonight huh?” he smirks. 

you smirk back, feeling the adrenaline rush through you. “thought that’s what you wanted,” you reply, your voice a low whisper that only he can hear over the chaos of the red carpet.

matty's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in, his lips dangerously close to yours. “well then, let's make it a performance they'll never forget,” he says, his thumb lightly brushing against your waist. 

before they have a chance to ask more questions, you move on—arm around matty’s waist, practically leaning into him as your head swims with the almost kiss. sure, he did it for the cameras but the dizziness you feel is real. the way your blood rushes is very fucking real

“ready, darling?” he asks just before you’re going to step in. 

you bite your lip, actually excited this time. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

but the excitement drains away the moment you leave the cameras and step through the massive doors to the auditorium. this is the true test—the outside cameras would only catch a glimpse of your evening, the first look at your outfit and hair and a look into your excitement for the evening. but the inside cameras capture everything!

you remember the utter scandal from a few years ago when the cameras caught a musician rolling his eyes after his rival won a big award. you remember the memes on twitter for days after, the snide remarks from other industry peers, the hateful comments. you remember emma mentioning how his publicist had been fired two days after. 

you remember the instagram live meltdown. 

and now as you see jack in front of you, arms linked with his date, you wonder if it would be you next, if history would repeat itself. 

“alright?” matty’s voice cuts through your spiral and you stop instantly, causing him to walk into you just a little. matty’s arms tighten around your waist, steadying both of you and he frowns. 

“yeah,” you give him a tight smile. “jitters.”

“‘s that it?” matty looks skeptical, cocking an eyebrow at you, which somehow makes his whole face turn sharper. it’s the kind of sharpness that’s lethal… if you weren’t careful. 

in an attempt to steer the conversation away from yourself, you shake your head. “how come you’re not nervous?”

“who says i’m not?”

a laugh spills out of you, sharp and unbelieving. you’ve never seen someone more confident, more self-assured in your life before. hell, you’ve seen their concert videos now and matty is fucking electric in all of them. he looks like he owns the place, owns the attention of everyone around him. he looks impenetrable—an utter fucking rockstar. 

“well, you– you…”

“i…? what?” his eyes turn playful, his lips curve upward. “i look so dashing and sexy and in control all the time?”

“sure,” you drawl, fighting the smile that’s about to make its way onto your face. “that’s what i was goin—”

“hi, babe!”

your blood turns cold and a sour taste coats your tongue at the sound of his voice. 

jack looks exactly like he did the last time—the same dark wavy hair, the same piercing blue eyes that captivated you all those years ago, the same full lips that… you cut that train of thought before it could lead to places you’d rather not. instead, you stare right at him and give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“hi jack.” the babe doesn’t go unnoticed; neither by you, nor by matty, and he straightens, standing up to his full height. jack ignores him entirely.

“was wondering if you were coming.” you resist the urge to roll your eyes at the loaded sentence. you know exactly what he’s referring to—the fucking pathetic pap walk, the absolutely embarrassing amount of pda. it’s curious that he’s here alone now, smiling wide at you with unnervingly straight, white teeth. his date is nowhere to be seen.

“yeah, me too, actually,” you smile turns saccharine, “considering you don’t have any nominations this year.”

matty chokes back a laugh and jack’s face reddens a little. still, he manages to hold up pretty well. 

“oh, feisty! aren’t you, babe? isn’t she?” the last part is addressed to matty who stiffens, pulling you closer. a part of you wants to give into the butterflies swarming in your stomach. a part of you wants to lean into him and feel protected. 

you expect matty to come up with a witty response, something that would put jack in his place, but matty turns to you instead, looking down at you with… adoration, almost. it’s not like it’s real, you tell yourself, it’s only for your ex. only for show. 

“is that the guy you were telling me about, darling? the boring one you dated before?” 

now it’s your turn to choke back a laugh. you try not to dwell too much on the darling, or his low, almost seductive voice. you certainly don't dwell on how it makes your insides flutter and feel warm. instead, you focus back on jack and relish in the way his jaw tightens. 

“i see,” he mutters, but matty clearly isn’t done yet.

“she can speak for herself, won’t you say john—”

“jack.” his voice is terse now, and as much as you’re enjoying this little interaction, you’d rather it get not picked up by cameras and even more tabloids. the headlines that would be splashed on them tomorrow are already predictable enough. so you tug on matty’s arm and smile up at him sweetly. 

“shall we go find our seats, love?”

the iciness in his eyes fades at the one word, and you try not to let that do funny things to you. (even though it’s practically too late now, even though you can almost feel your heart doing somersaults in your ribcage). matty presses his hand to the small of your back, the skin of his palm so deliciously warm that it seeps through the fabric and you have to swallow back a groan. 

god! he’s fucking attractive… 

and fuck! you might just be in trouble. 

jack stares daggers at you when you let matty steer you away, the stare so intense that it almost burns into the back of your head but the electricity from matty’s proximity is something else entirely… 

“love?” he teases, the moment you’re out of earshot and you blush deeply. 

“i said it for him, not for you!” but even you know the retort lacks conviction. 

“whatever you say…” a shit-eating grin appears on his face, melting away all the sharpness from before. and suddenly matty’s just… a handsome boy. curly-haired and smiley and soft. his eyes crinkle in the way that makes you think how used to he is to smiling and laughing—as often as he wants, as freely too. 

he’s beautiful like this, you think, different from the rest of them too. you don’t constantly feel on guard around him for one.

his finger lightly taps you on the forehead, catching you off guard. “what’s going on in there?”

what is going on is you waxing poetic about how hot he is but his ego does not need that particular ego boost. but try as you might, you can’t think of a sarcastic remark, nothing teasing or mocking. all you manage is a genuine smile. 

“just that… it’s not so scary anymore.”

“yeah?”

you nod, giving his hand a squeeze. “who knew bringing you as my fake date would be a good idea, huh?” 

“fake date…” matty smirks, and lets his eyes roam over your face. it’s the type of stare that’s hard to look away from, the type of stare that holds you captive. matty lets out a shaky little breath and takes one small step closer. just one. “i don't know, seems pretty real to me.”

lemme know what you think <33

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[hispieceofcake]

⚠️BILL CIPHER AND STANFORD'S RELATIONSHIP CANONIZED. 👓 — (and my opinion about)

Well, I never thought I would write about Gravity Falls, I like the characters of the Stan twins, and I've watched the entire cartoon thousands of times and read the PDFs of all the books (Who am I kidding, I'm obsessed with Gravity Falls), and today while I was on TikTok I ended up seeing a video talking about Bill Cipher's book and about a supposed relationship between Ford and Bill, and that soon caught my interest (jealousy) and so I joined the maximum information and I came here to write this blog, some information here was taken from TikTok too.

To begin with, what I could understand from all of this is that Stanford and Bill Cipher had a "relationship" in Ford's mind, but from what I saw in the cartoon I think Bill was the only one who saw it that way. I remember Ford saying several times that he and Bill were "best friends" or just "friends", which leads us to understand that for Stanford it wasn't a romantic relationship but rather one of friends, but on the other hand, I don't think Bill thought that way, I think he saw Ford as "something more", an interest perhaps within the romantic spectrum. And here's why I think that:

In this text Bill talks about arresting and chaining your loved one as a form of affection, and well, he arrested Ford. And besides, he tried to give Ford a second chance to join him again, which I think he wouldn't do if his interest was so strong in Ford. He could have just tortured Ford to death to make him talk, but he didn't, he tortured Ford so that he would stay alive and he knew Ford could handle it.

I think Bill doesn't know how to show romantic feelings, you could see that clearly in that text about him saying he didn't know how to differentiate between fear and love. This could all just be in my head But I think about this theory. And as I said again, Ford saw their relationship as just friendly, as his interest was in unraveling the anomalies of Gravity Falls.

Now moving on to another point, I read some information in the book and got some on TikTok, as said before, and after Ford discovered Bill's true intentions, which was how we all know bring the Nightmare Realm to Gravity Falls and then dominate the world by doing the same with the rest of it, but then, Ford, upon learning of this fact, quickly disassociates himself from any relationship that he had with Bill Cipher and banishes him from his mind.

And then as written on the image page below it is written what Bill says "I wasn't upset at all! In fact, I decided to prove how not upset I was about our falling-out by knocking back a few cold glasses of "I'm Fine Juice" at O'Sadley's Multidimensional Pub in the Rock Bottom Asteroid Belt of the Vicious Spiral Nebula The rest of that night gets a little hazy, but according to the police transcripts apparently things took a turn...", in other words, Bill was in this bar to drown the sorrows of having been rejected by Ford after discovering his plan.

To the point that he drank so much and got drunk to the point of calling Ford by his "affectionate nickname", confusing the names due to the drink. Honestly, I don't know if people from other countries will understand the joke, but here in Brazil there is a type of music called "Sertanejo" and often these songs talk about being rejected or betrayed and suffer for it, I really imagine Bill crying and drinking alcohol listening to this type of music in the background in a bar.

And here as we can see, there is a message from Bill that was previously hidden in neon paint saying how much Ford would miss him and that he needed him to not feel alone, but I think it's quite the opposite, Bill who was obviously missing Ford and of course was trying to get Ford back on his side, the message is already clear.

Well, thanks for reading, bunny kisses 🐰

[ossidae-passeridae]

I'd be fascinated to hear more about gnosticism in tlt if you ever feel like writing about it.

I honestly don't know what's already been written r.e. gnosticism and TLT, so might be reinventing the wheel here, but I'll do a brief description of the overarching themes present throughout the books?

The uh, first layer of the gnosticism onion, as it were.

So to start this off I'm going to give a broad and at least partially incorrect overview of gnosticism:

Gnosticism is a tenth century mess that's loosely based off of Christianity, but then gets Weird. Thanks to some fun political situations in the Gulf, the Christians in the South were isolated from other Christians for decades thus spun off wildly from "mainstream" Christianity. We mostly have fragments left, and a lot of them contradict each other, so working out exactly what they believed/meant is Very Fun and also Somewhat Impossible. (Like the fragments of documents left in Canaan House, you could say...)

That being said, parts of their beliefs we do know better than others. They have the bible, of course, but on top of that they also have this pre-Bible creation myth regarding how God came to be in the first place.

It goes something like: In The Beginning there was a sort of primordial god-soup. This god-soup occasionally emits binary pairs of entities, also known as aeons and (later) twin flames. These binary pairs are two souls made for one another and with one another, and together they are balanced, and perfect, and full of Holy Light(tm). Each binary pair had one grammatically-masculine name, and one grammatically-feminine name. These names do not necessarily relate to perceived gender, and in fact the binary pairs are often referred to as if they are Beyond Gender Altogether. (*stares pointedly at the Lyctors*, *stares even more pointedly at Gideon's name*) [I could probably write a whole thing on this alone, honestly, they're sometimes referred to as like, the fingers on God's hand which, yeah.]

Anyway, in this pure and godly space, there is no matter, only Holy Light. But one of the entities, known as Sophia, goes off on her own and interacts with the shadowy chaos that exists outside of the godly soup. She's half of a whole, unbalanced. And through her meddling she (unintentionally) creates another half that's not pure and holy and full of godly light, but instead a dark reflection of what he Should Be. This is generally referred to as the Demiurge.

Unlike all these other beings, the Demiurge is made of matter. He is the first thing of matter to exist and he looks around the void that he's birthed into, bare aside from him, and concludes that he and he alone is God. (Hi Jod)

Then he makes earth, and heaven, and a bunch of other things besides, the things we know as the universe today. In the immortal words of Douglass Adams — this has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

The problem is — all of these things that the Demiurge has created are made of matter. And being made of matter, they're cut off from the light of Godness (which is incorporeal and made of Pure Energy), thus inherently flawed. What's more, they're never meant to have existed in the first place. The Demiurge is tormented by his failure, but unable to create anything that is not inherently Wrong. (oh look it's the Nine Houses, I'd bet money that there's a link between being cut off from Godly Light and the Nine Houses being the only stable thanergenic planets here)

Sophia, who has watched these unintended consequences unfold and the suffering they've caused, cannot undo what's been done, but she can descend into the material world to share the light of wisdom and try to alleviate what suffering she can. So she does.

The story culminates with Christ being born and teaching all of humanity Gnosis — a special, mystical knowledge that can only come from the Divine, we are not really given specifics here — before he's sacrificed in order to make humanity's ascent beyond their material prison possible.

So that's the broad strokes of gnosticism as a religion, and also first layer of the TLT gnosticism onion. Just the really broad spectrum thematic *waves hands around* Stuff. I've refrained from speculating on the end because until Alecto comes out we really don't know.

If you want anything more specific anon, let me know?? I've been in the gnosticism soup for so long I can't always tell what's common knowledge and what isn't.

[ashesandhackles]

Harry and Dumbledore: Crisis of Faith

The Life and Lies of Dumbledore chapter from DH lives rent free in my head, and I would love to get on my soapbox about why. It's no secret that DH is an allegorical tale with Harry as Christ figure and Dumbledore positioned as God figure - often represented by the symbolism of the all-seeing eye. The eye in the mirror (which turns out to Aberforth, who sends Dobby to the rescue), the symbol of Deathly Hallows in Dumbledore's signature.

Eye symbolism:

A flash of brightest blue. Harry froze, his cut finger slipping on the jagged edge of the mirror again. He had imagined it, he must have done... If anything was certain, it was that the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore would never pierce him again.

and

 Above what Harry assumed was the title of the story (being unable to read runes, he could not be sure) , there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line.

The Deathly Hallows or the Gifts of Death is marked by a triangular eye - and it is explicitly seen as God's eye in Christian art and iconography.

So now, back to the chapter, where Harry completely loses faith:

The sun was coming up: The pure, colorless vastness of the sky stretched over him, indifferent to him and his suffering. Harry sat down in the tent entrance and took a deep breath of clean air.

The chapter opens with the smallness of Harry against the vast sky, a bird's eye view shot to really highlight how vulnerable he feels. On the heels of the chapters where he sees himself and his family immortalised in statues and have their bombed home preserved as memorial - a site people take comfort from the legend of Harry, and Harry takes comfort from the graffiti they left behind - it feels especially isolated. The vulnerability is glaring: Harry has lost the protection of the twin cores. The church bells are distant.

His senses had been spiked by the calamity of losing his wand. He looked out over a valley blanketed in snow, distant church bells chiming through the glittering silence.

Harry does not deal with vulnerability, most specifically helplessness very well. As a child raised in an abusive environment - his savior complex is rooted in needing to have agency. We see him grappling with what he perceives as complete abandonment from Dumbledore: 'Dumbledore had left them to grope in the darkness, to wrestle with unknown and undreamed-of terrors, alone and unaided: Nothing was explained, nothing was given freely, they had no sword, and now, Harry had no wand.'

And then, Harry reads the chapter titled Greater Good from Rita Skeeter's book.

So what was Albus doing, if not comforting his wild young brother? The answer, it seems, is ensuring the continued imprisonment of his sister.

This is important, because Harry's feelings about this are made clear in earlier chapters:

Could Dumbledore have let such things happen? Had he been like Dudley, content to watch neglect and abuse as long as it did not affect him? Could he have turned his back on a sister who was being imprisoned and hidden?

Harry is projecting onto Ariana Dumbledore, specifically with his experience of the Dursleys. He had once raged at Dumbledore in OOTP: "People don't like being locked up! You did it to me last summer!"

Harry's grievance with Dumbledore is not just about this exchange, but a specific choice Dumbledore made for his physical safety with blood wards. The narrative comes close to acknowledging it, in OOTP:

“Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.” He paused. Harry said nothing.

to

“She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn — ” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.”

to

He knew one thing, though: unhappy as he felt at the moment, he would greatly miss Hogwarts in a few days' time when he was back at number four, Privet Drive. Even though he now understood exactly why he had to return there every summer, he did not feel any better about it. Indeed, he had never dreaded his return more.

Harry understands it then, so it is striking that the only time he allows himself to get truly angry at the position Dumbledore put him in this chapter, through Ariana:

 “I’m not trying to defend what Dumbledore wrote,” said Hermione. “All that ‘right to rule’ rubbish, it’s ‘Magic Is Might’ all over again. But Harry, his mother had just died, he was stuck alone in the house —”   “Alone? He wasn’t alone! He had his brother and sister for company, his Squib sister he was keeping locked up —”

“I don’t believe it,” said Hermione. She stood up too. “Whatever was wrong with that girl, I don’t think she was a Squib. The Dumbledore we knew would never, ever have allowed —”   “The Dumbledore we thought we knew didn’t want to conquer Muggles by force!” Harry shouted, his voice echoing across the empty hilltop, and several blackbirds rose into the air, squawking and spiraling against the pearly sky.

I am especially struck by the image of Harry's angry shouting making blackbirds fly into the pearly sky, and spiral over him. Blackbirds are associated with mystery, secrets and are seen as messengers to netherworld - this combined with the image of pearly white sky (heavens/God) seems intentional. It is carrying Harry's disillusionment to the heavens.

And then, the quote that pierces my soul, which is the heart of this chapter:

“Maybe I am!” Harry bellowed, and he flung his arms over his head, hardly knowing whether he was trying to hold in his anger or protect himself from the weight of his own disillusionment. “Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don’t expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I’m doing, trust me even though I don’t trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!”

It is reminiscent of Snape's "you have used me! I have spied for you, lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you" - basically, "why have you forsaken me?" moment.

 He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? 

The chapter being set in whiteness and emptiness, reminiscent of King's Cross chapter where Harry does get his answers from Dumbledore.

And then Hermione, who has modified her parents memories, can confidently assert that "He loved you, I know he loved you", because her love for her parents, for Ron, can also be sacrificed at the altar of greater good, even if it means doing things that would hurt them (not choosing to go with Ron) and dismiss their agency (as is with her parents). It doesn't mean she doesn't love them.

  “I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Harry ends the chapter with seeking comfort from Hermione's touch, brushing his hair - wishing he could believe that Dumbledore really cared. (shoutout to @bluethepineapple meta here about this chapter)

And it is then where Dumbledore's gifts come in motion next chapter: his Deluminator lets Ron find his way back. Snape, effectively Dumbledore's man, sends the doe. Harry counts on what he learned from Dumbledore to destroy the Horcrux - he gives Ron the opportunity to wield the sword:

As certainly as he had known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts.

And then by Shell Cottage, Harry accepts Dumbledore's plan as is, and reaffirms his faith in Dumbledore's idea of Greater Good:

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.

And then Harry chooses to stay on path Dumbledore laid out for him, only wishing now that he simply understood the man:

When Harry had finished speaking (about Voldemort), Ron shook his head.   “You really understand him.”   “Bits of him,” said Harry. “Bits . . . I just wish I’d understood Dumbledore as much. But we’ll see. Come on — Ollivander now.”

And finally, he starts to understand Dumbledore - through his conversation with Aberforth:

"And Albus was free, wasn’t he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest wizard of the —”   “He was never free,” said Harry.   “I beg your pardon?” said Aberforth.   “Never,” said Harry. “The night that your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there. ‘Don’t hurt them, please . . . hurt me instead.’”   “He thought he was back there with you and Grindelwald, I know he did,” said Harry, remembering Dumbledore whimpering, pleading. “He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana. . . . It was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”

Finally, he gets his chance to have a conversation with Dumbledore at the crossroads of life and death. TLDR: Deathly Hallows is an allegorical tale and it is best to treat it as such and roll with it, because otherwise it's deus ex machina galore.

[sunsblaze]

Cont. || @gilded-sunrays

The flow of time would stop for no one, not for the virtuous, not for kings, nor those touched my the divine, time was a cruel mistress, something many tried to cling to only to rear back with blistering palms as it is ripped violently from tender hands.

A truth they had both come to learn through similar tales of not only love and loss, but betrayal. They had both been born with this curse- blessing and yet with such a gift they had still been unable to protect what truly mattered to them, they had been too late every single time. The contents of the future evaded her. Evaded them.

Her own days had been spent much the same, each day passing was filled an ebbing restlessness as her life began to stall leaving little for her to do in these day of involuntary retirement, though it wasn’t always like this, there had been a time where her days had been filled with warmth, shrouded in domestic bliss as she stood hand in hand with her husband.

They had been expecting, she spent their final days together nesting, preparing for the birth of their first child- a daughter, though as the moons leading up to labor came to pass everything she held dear would be ripped from her grasp. As her husband prepared for the morning journey he had to make to fetch a midwife, something made its move, striking the small family down, all she remembered was waking the next day, her hand clutching tightly onto her husband’s and intense pains wracking through her body.

Alone, she would give birth to a child that was destined to not breathe a single breath.

The coming days were a blur, she would not move from her husband’s side, instead she would lay there, the infant laying against her chest until a man she would soon know as Rengoku came to her, he had been in search of the creature that had snuffed her the lives of her family, he would help her back to her feet, help her put her loved ones to rest. Shortly after she made a decision, a vow to never have another suffer as she had, she would become a slayer and fight the shadows away with the burning determination of the sun itself.

For a handful of years she had kept busy, pushing forward as she fought tirelessly, following a path she had never truly wished to step foot on, but it seemed fate had other plans, this- being a demon slayer, it had been her destiny, she had found her purpose in that time and yet she seemed to lose it all the same.

Her own failure to cut down the demon lord, her allowing a demon to escape, and the betrayal of her own twin, it ended her time as a pillar and almost costed her life, many believed she should have atoned by committing sepukku, though both the young master and the flame pillar would not allow it, she would be given the mercy of exile- though was losing everything yet again really a mercy?

Nonetheless, she would take each day one at a time, hunting demons that lurked nearby, visiting the few loved ones she had left as her determination, her passions flickered and faded from a blazing inferno to a flickering candlelight. She often found herself doing the bare minimum for her survival, she would eat, drink, bathe, and tend to the repairs of her home.

That was until things would change around her…literally.

The sound of the teapot shattering was deafening in the still night and it was only accentuated by the seconds of silence that followed, the sounds of the woman’s gentle breaths filling the space between them. Though it was a rare occurrence, she was a bit shaken, she had almost killed this man, if she had been just seconds slower then his head would been sent rolling across the wooden boards beneath them.

While she awaited his answer she would just stare down at the man, her eyes the same shade of maroon as his, both like deep glasses of red wine- a finely aged vintage. For a second she had a thought that he might be a demon or that this was some kind of mirage, but it would only take her one glance to tell that not only was this real, it that he was just as human as she. Not only that, but he was her mirror image other than his more masculine features, she felt as if she were staring into a pool and on the other side laid a world so similar, yet different.

It made one wonder just how different things were on the other side.

As the man’s lips parted to speak a name- one that was all too familiar the woman would blink- she wasn’t exactly sure what to think at the moment, other than the fact that this man was her? Or was she him? It was all a bit complicated.

“…As am I.”

Her response was soft, her voice just as hushed as his own, as if this exact moment was so delicate that one word spoked too loud would shatter the world around them into a million pieces. She would make the first move, her hand. Bracing against his chest as she pushed herself to her feet before stepping to the side, a slender, yet calloused hand outstretched to him.

“I apologize for the disturbance, please, allow me to take care of the mess I have caused.”