#what if we lost. what if we died together. what if we killed each other. what if you put me down like a rabid dog. what if I did the same | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danveration · 10 months ago

Text

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

#:alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon x reader #the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader hazbin hotel #hes so pookie bear guys UGUHG #i love him sm #my works #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you

7K notes · View notes

lyrefromthesea · 3 months ago

Note

Hear me out... The hashira rival lover thing.. What if we don't get the chance/they don't get the chance to confess because we die??? 🦅🦅(I'm a sucker for angst)

Male hashira x Reader - Lost Chances

author's note: the hospital doesn't want me anymore, i'm finally back home.

pairing: Tengen x reader x Obanai, Rengoku x reader x Gyomei, Sanemi x reader x Giyuu

content warning: angst, death, descriptions of blood

Tengen and Obanai:

a month had passed since your death. neither of them had seen it coming, nor had they ever received the chance to safe you.

you left for a solo mission back then, promising them to return victorious, and while you did kill the demon in the end, you suffered from a major injury and died the same night.

your death had spread despair and sadness throughout the whole demon slayer corps, but it left the hardest impact on them.

while Tengen grieved over your death, he tried to continue his everydayness. it wasn't for his sake, but for you and the people around him.

Tengen knew you would've wanted him to continue living normally, it was one of the things that made him not only admire but also love you.

he didn't want to hurt his wives either, they didn't deserve to get caught up in his despair.

so while he wished that it would've been him, he tried to keep those thoughts hidden inside his very being, locked away where no one would find them.

Obanai, on the other hand, could not swallow his grief down like Tengen did. he had loved you with all his heart and he felt it break with the message of your death.

despite both of them suffering through the same pain, Obanai didn't have anyone waiting at home, no one too soothe his overactive mind. it was one of the reasons he didn't like to return to his estate.

his eyes were trained on the stone which had your name engraved in it, placing a fresh bouquet of flowers next to it. it wasn't the only one, he knew Tengen would visit you once a week, though they never ran into each other.

not until today.

"come, my wives had offered to invite you over." the hand on Obanai's shoulder felt different than their usual encounters. he had expected Tengen to leave a new bouquet on your grave, maybe a prayer too, and leave again.

despite Obanai's wish to remain alone and the dislike of meeting new people - especially women - he agreed this time.

and when he entered the Uzui family estate, he was surprised by the lively atmosphere and the welcoming smell of warm food.

he was quiet throughout their time eating together, at least most of the time, but he still found himself being comforted by his new surroundings.

Uzui's wives looked happy.

the thought kept repeating in his mind, wondering if you'd enjoyed this as much as they did now. he wondered if life would've been different if he had confessed to you - married you.

maybe you'd have stepped back. there would've been no harm in watching you give up your title and enjoy life.

and while the image of your life as a happy person, greeting him back home and cheerfully talking about your day, consumed his mind, he looked at Tengen.

seeing the other man's eyes soften, a twinge of hidden sadness in them, as he looked at his wives, he knew that Tengen must've imagined the same before too.

in the end, neither of them had been fast enough to hold out their saving hand.

Rengoku and Gyomei:

"take [name] with you and get to the butterfly mansion!" Kyojuro screamed, gripping his sword harder and running after the demon the three of you had fought for a while.

truthfully, people would've expected this mission to be finished without a problem, a team of tree hashira should be undefeatable.

and perhaps that would've been the case for most demons, but not for this one. whoever she was, she was a trickster out of the book, saving herself with movements you've never seen before. you quickly realized her weakness, seeing that she couldn't use her blood demon art without breaks that seemingly grew bigger. in a state of increasing distress and tiredness you shouted for the others to power her out, not expecting her next attack.

the sharp object penetrating your back, soon piercing through your front, didn't nearly hurt as much as Rengoku's expression.

"follow the plan, tire her out!" Gyomei shouted one last time, carrying your body towards the butterfly mansion. he hoped Rengoku had heard him, legs carrying him as fast as possible.

he could feel thick globs of blood escape your wound, staining his hands in a demon's wine. not much more and you'd be dead.

Rengoku, on the other hand, fought with all his might. he didn't fight for his life, he fought with the pain of knowing what this demon had done to you. after increasingly weaker attacks were thrown at him, he finally found a gap and beheaded the demon.

yet he couldn't breathe out in victory.

he turned on his heels, sprinting towards the butterfly mansion. he knew that Gyomei was faster and stronger than him, hoping that you had arrived in time.

all his hope died the second he saw your lifeless body in an infirmary bed, the giant man, who brought you here, sitting by your side.

"i didn't make it." he admitted, voice a whisper, throat running dry. the smell of your blood reminded him of days that had long passed.

Rengoku felt his own throat tighten, quietly closing the door to your room. grief was slowly climbing up his body, threatening to pull him down. even worse, he saw the same feeling behind Gyomei's eyes.

thick tears were staining the giant's face, too focused on your body to notice Rengoku stepping closer. a warm hand placed itself on Gyomei's shoulder.

"don't lower your head, comrade. [name], too, would've wanted us to set our hearts ablaze." the words that left Rengoku's mind had been heard by the male a million times already, but any trace of happiness was gone this time.

Gyomei nodded, not saying another word, not even when he heard the other male desperately try to hold back his own sobs.

Sanemi and Giyuu:

it hadn't taken more than a second - a mere second that left everyone breathless. the uppermoon you've fought wasn't that strong, not that smart, but incredibly fast. so even with three hashira, it was a huge gamble to take him on.

Sanemi was unluckily hit by the demon's attacks, throwing him over half the forest. and while he managed to land safely, it would take him some time to return to Giyuu and you.

"Sanemi!" you screamed, your eyes following him in worry, only to hear him scream back that you should pay attention.

his warning came too late, the demon lunged at you before you even got to turn around.

trying to safe your team from any more harm, Giyuu went after the demon, sword swiftly cutting through his neck. yet the sound that reached his ears with his attack was too other - too different - to be from his sword.

the demon crumbled to dust in a matter of seconds, leaving Giyuu panting. his eyes widened when you came into his line of sight again, but something felt wrong.

you weren't moving, his eyes wandering over your body until they stopped at your torso. he barely managed to land on his knees and catch you before you hit the ground.

the demon wasn't strong, but it was still strong enough to leave a whole in your side in his dying moments.

"[name]!" Giyuu felt his throat dry up, his hands starting to shake like never before. this wasn't happening. right?

"Gi.. yuu.." he wasn't used to seeing your eyes so empty, so devoid of life. you barely managed to say his name before blood spluttered out of your mouth, running down your lips.

"[name], stay alive! ..stay alive!" he didn't know when he last felt this helpless, but his legs wouldn't move. the butterfly mansion was too far away, no help was in sight. he didn't know where he should bring you.

your breathing.

it had stopped not even a minute after you've got hurt, the light having left your eyes for good. Giyuu felt his body tense, not able to move anymore. his hands were full of your blood, he could feel the crimson liquid leaking down his fingers.

the silence was broken by a guttural scream, another person running out of the forest. Sanemi's white hair was a stark contrast to the night's darkness, wind rushing through it as he ran to your lifeless body.

"[NAME]!" he fell to his knees next to you, first wanting to hold you close to his body, then pulling his hands away, too afraid to hold your fragile form. he was consumed in his panic, the sight of your corpse.

the next minutes were filled by screams and cries, Sanemi's agony soon making Giyuu quietly cry as well.

they only stopped when no more tears were left, no more screams to give. and after Sanemi has calmed down, thoughts began to fill his mind.

i should've been faster. I should've been stronger. if i had just been there a bit earlier-

he went quiet, his hands gently taking your body out of Giyuu 's hold and standing up. you deserved a grave, he couldn't leave your body here.

before he turned around to retreat, his dead eyes wandered to Giyuu, looking at him with unspoken malice. "you should've protected [name]."

no more words were said between the two males, Sanemi leaving the forest with your body in his hands, while Giyuu suffered through another breakdown, trying to drag his body back to his estate.

he wouldn't be able to see your face another time, not in this life. Sanemi was right, he failed to protect someone he loved. again.

if only he knew that Sanemi felt the same guilt swell in his chest, desperately trying to hold his cries in.

555 notes · View notes

vixstarria · 1 year ago

Text

Gentle Warding Bond

Astarion was lost in thought, staring off into space with an open journal on one knee, absentmindedly fiddling with two rings in his hand. He was always picking up diaries and journals wherever he went, with an almost morbid curiosity about the lives of their dead authors.

“Find something interesting?” you asked.

“These rings we found at the House of Healing...” he answered, still in deep thought. “They appear to be counterparts. The wearer of one of them can cast a blessing on the other. That person gains a boon that protects them from harm. But any wound or injury that does reach them will be shared by the caster.”

“How quaint” you said, sitting down next to him.

“This journal belonged to the last wearer of the ‘giving’ ring. The poor sop died from injuries sustained by their lover.” Astarion tossed the journal off to the side.

“What a stupid way to die” you commented after a moment of silent contemplation.

“A bond that will drag you to your grave after your lover, should they fall. Or if you fail to protect them. Together as one against all others... Even in death.” he mused.

“This is the kind of bullshit that breeds romance novels” you added.

“Yes, it’s so nauseatingly sentimental I might actually be sick” laughed Astarion.

“So saccharine” you scoffed.

“Revoltingly sappy” agreed Astarion.

“And absurdly foolish.”

“Imbecilic!”

“Simply mad.”

You’d been looking into each other’s eyes for the latter portion of this exchange.

“It sounds more like a curse than a boon, really” said Astarion, still looking into your eyes and reaching out to take your hand.

“What idiot would do such a thing?” you managed, hoarsely.

Astarion slipped one of the rings onto your finger, following suit with the other for himself. He uttered an incantation, and a warm feeling spread over your body. You felt stronger, safer, more assured. And you experienced a sensation that you could only describe as a feeling of his presence, wrapping you in an unseen embrace.

Astarion leaned in to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

"You’re a good actor, but I can hear your heart racing, darling” he whispered once you broke the kiss. You just bit his lip in response, eliciting a soft growl from him.

“Come on, love” he purred, getting up. “Let’s go kill something.”

~~~~~

Next in series - Admit that you love me

Series master list

AO3

#astarion #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #bg3 act 2 #true love’s caress #true love’s embrace #guess who found the rings today

3K notes · View notes

radioactive-mouse · 9 months ago

Text

i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me

3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.

Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.

Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—

Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.

Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.

#I DONT KNOW IF I SUCCEEDED IN ARTICULATING WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY BUT GOD #it kills me how as the brutality goes up in each series so does the sillyness factor #god #trafficblr #3rd life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #eyesandears #<— tagging it cause it kinda alludes to martyns watcher stuff yk yk #god how else do i tag this #gonna tag the winners i mentioned and call it a day #grian #inthelittlewood #pearlescentmoon #mouse.txt

935 notes · View notes

kjupchurch-xx · 3 months ago

Text

🩷 Conflicting Feelings 🩷 Part 3

Hugh and I ended up getting take-out for lunch. We spent the last 24 hours together. Things were nice. Things were right. The last 24 hours had been spent working out kinks of what was to come next. It was spent with hours of being in each other's arms and many passionate kisses. He'd been my person for years. These things had only ever taken place in my dreams, I never imagined them becoming a reality. I'd always wondered what his kisses were like. The thoughts made me smile as a red blush appeared on my cheeks.

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking at me through the full length mirror while resting his head on my shoulder. "What's got you turning red?" He asked, smirking at me through the mirror.

Our height difference was pretty silly considering I'm 5'0 and he towers me at 6'2, so imagine him bending down to actually rest his chin on my shoulder. I tilted my head looking at him through the mirror, "Nothing." I said pursing my lips together.

He chuckled, "Are you sure, love?" He asked sweetly.

I quickly nodded, "I'm sure." before turning to look at him, staring for a moment, "What?" He asked laughing. I shook my head, "Nothing. I just can't believe this is even happening right now." I said honestly.

He smiled, "Well it is. And if you'll have me, I'm all yours." His gaze went down to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes once again.

Flashback to September 5th, 2021:

I was back home in South Carolina visiting family. I'd just finished playing an extra in a movie when my phone started ringing. It was Hugh, who was in England filming for his new movie The Son. Figuring he was just calling to ask about my filming experience, I answered.

I could hear sniffling, "Hey, how was filming?" I asked, trying to hide the concern in my voice.

He sighed, sniffling a bit more as he belted out, "My father died." the tremble in his voice killed me.

I sighed, "Oh shit. I'm so sorry, babe. Is Deb on her way?" I asked, hoping she'd canceled whatever she had going on since he was in England alone.

That simple question broke him, "I fucking rang her and she just said 'I'm so sorry babe, I'll see you when you get home. I can't leave the dogs.' Who the fuck says that?!" His voice dripping with hurt as he continued breaking.

I closed my eyes, feeling my teeth start to grit, "Are you serious?"

He sniffled, choking on his tears, "I just lost my fucking father. I'm in another country filming a movie I can't even focus on at this moment and that's all I get from her."

I quickly put the phone and speaker and sent Deb a text.

Me: Hey, I saw the news. If you guys need someone to keep the pups while you go to Australia, I don't mind keeping them. I miss Dali and Allegra!

She text me back almost immediately after I hit send.

Debbora-Lee: Thank you, honey. I appreciate it but I'm not going to be able to go. Ava has school stuff we can't miss unfortunately.

I sighed, "I'm so sorry, babe. You're in England, right?" I asked knowingly as I began searching for flights on my phone. Someone has to be there and I guess if she refuses to be there, I'll have to go to make sure he can make it through his film and to make sure he's okay.

He coughed again, "Yes, I'm in fucking London."

I bit my bottom lip as I booked the first flight I saw, "Meet me at the airport at 11 pm your time."

He sniffled, surprised, "Where are you? What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

I sighed, "I'll be landing in London at 11." I said while grabbing my things, throwing them in my bag to haul ass to the airport.

"No love, you don't have to do that. Don't mess up your time with your family." He said softly.

"It's already paid for. Just pick me up at 11." I said as I ended the call.

I'm pissed. I'm pissed she can't get off her ass to fly to be with her husband who just lost his father. I'm pissed my time with my family got ruined because of this fucked up situation, but he's my best friend and he obviously needs someone on his side. He called Deb, then called me. I'm pissed that I can't show this man what he means to me because of a marriage he's in with such a selfish person. But I'll go be the hero and save his ass because she refuses to. Time to put my platonic face on.

11 PM, London, England:

After a 10 hour flight, a comfortable bed is all I'm after. I booked a room at the same hotel Hugh was staying to be close by. I hadn't seen him in months. I was excited, despite the circumstance of why I came in the first place. I stepped off the escalator, the airport was practically dead at this time. Maybe 20 other people and I'm sure they all just got off the flight I was on. I quickly found the baggage claim, grabbing my things and checking my phone.

"You really didn't have to do this." I heard a familiar voice, my favorite Australian say as he approached me, pulling me into a quick hug.

He looked awful. His eyes were swollen from crying, his hair was a mess. He was almost unrecognizable.

I shrugged, "You didn't have anybody else. That's what I'm here for." I smiled. "Take me to the hotel. I'm tired and ready to be away from airports and planes." I said, walking towards the doors.

He gave me a sad smile, "Isn't this your first time out of the country?" He asked, looking at me, walking with me towards his car.

I nodded, "It is. Finally putting the passport I've had for a year now to good use." I laughed.

As we approached his car, he opened the door for me and grabbed my bags, placing them in the back, then coming to get in the driver's seat. "I'm so thankful to have someone like you in my life. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." He said, his voice slightly shaking.

I took a deep breath, trying to contain my own emotions, "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, babe." I said with a small smile.

He took me to a fast food place to grab a bite to take to the hotel with me. As we reached the hotel and got up to the room, he stopped holding his composure and broke. I couldn't help but pull him into my arms and stroke his back as he wept. I'd never seen Hugh actually cry and the sight was heartbreaking. Nonetheless, I'm glad I'm here so he isn't alone. We spent hours with him crying, telling me stories about his father and the kind of man he was, we rehearsed his lines for The Son until the sun came sweeping into the hotel room.

Present Day:

"What's on your mind?" He asked, giving me a serious look.

I looked at him, "Nothing, I was just thinking about the night I flew to London to see you."

He chuckled, "Ah, the night that started it all."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "I don't remember anything being started on my part. I remember trying to call your wife and let her have it... but you wouldn't let me." I laughed at the last part.

He laughed, "No, I wouldn't. I told you that you were better than that and I didn't want her to ban me from seeing you." He said with a smirk.

"Honestly though, that was the night that really did something for me. I had nothing but platonic feelings for you until you did that for me. After that weekend with you, just being there, being yourself and being there for me, helping me keep my head in the game with my film, it was hard to separate myself from developing feelings for you." He said quietly, slightly shaking his head almost as if he were in disbelief.

I kissed his cheek, "I'll bet you had no idea that I was absolutely smitten with you long before that. Which is why I flew to England. Do you think I fly across the world at the drop of a hat for anyone else?" I giggled.

He looked at me, eyes widening a little, "What? You were not. You never showed it at all."

I rolled my eyes again, "Um sir, you were married and I did not want to fight someone over their husband. I enjoyed our friendship and respected your marriage too much to do something stupid."

He smirked, "No, but we did have a cuddle in London."

I gasped, laughing, "No shit, you were an emotional mess. I wasn't going to just say 'Hey, I'm heading to the other room. See ya tomorrow, big guy.' What was I supposed to do?" I said crossing my arms.

He laughed, pecking my lips, wrapping his arms back around me, "Okay, point well made."

It was starting to get late, now getting closer to 10 pm. I yawned, looking at him, "I'm sorry, but I refuse to sleep on the couch again tonight. I'm going to sleep in my bed tonight. You're welcome to join me unless you want a hard sofa."

He smiled, "I'll be there in a second, love."

I smiled sleepily, yawning again before walking towards the bedroom, "Okay."

As I got to the bedroom, I put on a tank top and matching pajama shorts before climbing into the big king sized bed. It wasn't as comfortable as my bed at home, but it would do. About 10 minutes later, Hugh walked in interrupting the annoyingly funny reality show I was watching.

"Miss me?" He asked cockily while taking off his jeans and t-shirt, moving the blankets to lay beside me.

I chuckled, "No, I had Mama June and Honey Boo Boo keeping me entertained."

He rolled his eyes, "I can't believe you actually watch that." He laid his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

I played as if I were offended, "Don't hate. They're hilarious."

He looked at the tv, "I'm sorry it took me awhile to come in here. I was on the phone with Oscar." His voice sounded sad.

I chewed at my lip, nervous for what was to come next, as I rested my hand on his bare chest, softly caressing it. "It's okay. Is he okay?" I asked.

He sighed, "He's fine. He's disappointed that his mum and I couldn't fix things, but he's old enough to understand that people have to do what makes them happy."

I looked up at him, "Well, at least he understands. Does he know where you're at?..." I asked lowly.

Hugh sat in silence.

"Hugh... You didn't tell him you're with me, did you?..." I asked, growing worried, lifting up to look at him.

He shook his head, "Well not at first, no. He asked where I was. I simply said LA. He asked who I was with. I didn't say. He said 'You're with her, aren't you, dad?' and you know I'm a terrible liar."

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding in hopes he did not tell his child I was with him. Oscar and Ava adored me, but I did not need the world thinking I ripped this man out of his marriage and away from his family.

He rubbed my cheek, "He knows you didn't do anything wrong. He's old enough to understand the issues Deb and I have. He knew his mum and I had been practically separated for years but didn't want to actually separate for their sake."

I shook my head, "I hope you're right. I also hope he doesn't call her and tell her." I said without thinking.

He shook his head, "He won't. He doesn't know what we're doing or what we've talked about. He knows you're always there. He probably thinks you're making sure I don't do something stupid and just being a good friend."

I nodded, "Okay... If you say so."

Hugh's phone lit up, a notification from Ryan Reynolds. It was a text. Opening it, it was a screen shot of his soon-to-be ex-wife, posted up with another man. I looked at Hugh, chewing my bottom lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

He looked at me, "Good for her. She deserves happiness." He said bluntly.

I pursed my lips, "You took that better than I imagined." I chuckled.

He smiled, holding his phone up to take a picture with me. "What are you doing?..." I asked, not ready for his response. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to post his own selfie to get back at her.

He smirked, "I'm just taking a selfie with my best friend that will be going on Instagram with the caption 'That's what friends are for'." He exclaimed proud of himself as he forced me to smile for the camera by tickling my side.

"I can't believe how toxic you are." I said with a chuckle watching him post the picture to his Instagram. You could clearly see he was shirtless, I'm in a tank top and we're close to one another. This was going to go over great on the internet.

He chuckled, "I can be toxic, but in a sexy way." He reminded me.

Author's Note: I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this. Let me guess... You guys want a part four?

254 notes · View notes

nagaytoe · 22 days ago

Text

THE KID AT THE BACK

-theories

Did i sit down and analyze this game for 3 hours straight because I'm hyperfixated on it? Yes, yes i did.

This isnt proof-read and long as hell so buckle up for a joyride, y'all (by the way, there's another TKATB fanfic in the works as we speak and also some fanart, though I'm not sure wether to post it or not... well, we'll see!)

Some of these might not seem all too thought through (??) Since i was kind of grasping at straws here (and it was like 2 a.m. lmao), so if y'all have questions/need me to elaborate or have theories of your own feel free to share!

(There's some inspiration here from other people in the Fandom, most of them from the community section on itch.io which isnt available any more)

Sol knows the player longer than we think

My theory ->

-Fantasia stated that one of her 3 biggest inspirations was the game AMNESIA

-In amnesia the mc loses her memory in an accident. One of the love interests is her childhood friend and also the only yandere in the game (at least from what i could find out)

-She already drew Sol with Forget-me-nots and in the valentines day special the boquet sol gave us also contained Forget-me-nots

-In the book (this gallery thing with all the cutscene images) on the top of sols page is written 'Remember Me' which implies we forgot about him

-Annabel Lee Poem:

+The poem contains the line 'I was a child, she was a child' which furthermore implies that Sol and MC knew each other as kids

+Except for the last two paragraphs the poem is written in past tense, which could be talking about sols POV with us

Perhaps MC had an accident, as mentioned above, and MCs father (highborn kinsmen) tore MC away from Sol to the countryside

+The poem mentions angels killing annabel lee which could also mean something like this: MC doesnt die but, however, gets amnesia. That way, the MC sol knows and loves is dead because MC no longer exists the way MC did before (also the fact that she forgot him)

Some people theorize MCs farm is near the sea and that is the reason why sol hates the sea (i believe the city is near the sea and that's where MC 'died' (maybe MC almost drowned and got Amnesia that way?(apparently its possible for people who almost drowned to get amnesia)))

+"The speaker loves annabel lee to the point of death and even after death" (MCs view how to interpret the poem) (-> Sol loves MC to 'death' (the day they got amnesia) and even after 'death' (after MC got amnesia and 'died' in a sense, as a person))

-sol says he thinks death is beautiful, i didn't really know what to make of that, the only conclusion i came to would be: If MC actually did drown and lose their memories due to that, sol might have been involved in MC drowning (or at least blames himself for that) but viewed MC losing their memories as a 'second chance' with them, since they can start from anew (perhaps he made some mistakes with MC in the past which all eventually built up to MC drowning (it could be that we were already teens at that point)

-sol states afterwards: "But people refused them to let them be together, as if fate refuses them to die together" which supports my theory that MC was taken from Sol by someone (most likely the father after he witnessed Sols behaviour and his final straw was MC drowning because of him) the 'let them die together' could mean something like their relationship 'dying' and then starting over again or perhaps he tried to die with them, who knows (all this is really far fetched i am grasping at straws here lmao)

-in a really quick scene right after he mutters "I'm won't let it happen to me... not again" (some people view this as Sol already lost someone he loved dearly but it could also be the MC who was taken from him

ANOTHER THING I COULD IMAGINE -ABOUT DYING TOGETHER COULD BE:

MC almost died, Sol went after them but they were already saved, Sol just didnt witness that and almost died himself/wanted to die but was saved from that by someone (maybe hyugo? Though, he is an exchange student)

-Another theory on hyugo. It's canon that he is an exchange student, however i do believe he is from this city (since he knows about the hierarchy and his brother Geo apparently is no exchange student), moved away and is now back for business (relating to his 'mafia schemes' but under the disguise of being an exchange student)

Maybe he moved around the same time MC left or some time after that

-Hyugo mentions on the rooftop that we remind him of someone and the pronoun of the person he refers to changes based on the one the player picked for the MC in the beginning. It could mean we remind him of someone else entirely, someone maybe not even related to sol (though i doubt that) or to the MC and he knows them from back then but maybe thought MC died as well and cant believe they actually survived (maybe he want to spike MCs memory by doing that)

-A dream within a dream: MC mentions that this poem, at least to them, talks about the uncertainty about something, like life (which could also imply that they might be uncertain about some things in their mife because they simply forgot them due to amnesia)

-THE SECOND DAY 'THE KINGDOM'

+some people think the kingdom (by the sea) refers to MCs farm and implies its near the sea, however in day 2 we find out about the hierarchy in the city and considering my theory that MC actually is from the city and almost drowned there, i believe the kingdom by the sea is the city. MC does mention in the beginning that they lived on the farm ever since they were a child, however, it could very well be that we moved there right after the incident that caused MCs amnesia (if MC was akid when it happened it would really matter because then it would still fit with the fact that they lived there since theyre a child, however if they were already a teen, perhaps the father moved there immediately to cut off all ties to Sol and told us we have always lived there on top of that (considering the previous theories)

The father also didnt seem fond of the idea that we go to the city (the fact that he is is indebted to someone from high class could imply he might be from there), that could be because he knows how dangerous the city is (and how we could potentially meet sol again)

-maybe the reason for the debt is that MCs father suddenly bought the farm land to get us away from the city as soon as possible and had to take on a loan from one of his contacts in the city

-we know that this is MCs last year at the university, if we say shes minimum 22, and was already in the school for 4 years that would mean she got there at 18. If the 'drowning theory' events took place when MC was a teen (like 16 maybe) it would explain why the father was indebted (i also think 2 years is an believable timeframe a higher class person would give someone to pay off their debt)

-at the end of day 2 sol says he's sorry for leaving us and "i dont know what I'll do if..." which supports my theory that he lost us once (and he blames himself as the reason (again, MC drowning?))

-inspirations:

+ https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-herbal-peach-tea/746168072919023616/tkatb-theories?source=share

+ https://itch.io/t/3749638/whats-the-secret-between-hyugo-and-sol

Another theory:

Sleepy Hollow and The kid at the back

-In the nicknames the boys have for MC (fantasia released that on twitter and tumblr) sol calls MC pumpkin (like the pumpkin of the headless horseman (also in the gallery there is a pumpkin above the book)) and Crowe calls them '(star-crossed) lover'

Star-crossed lovers are people who love each other but can't be together

I believe this might imply that, even though Crowe is the second romance option, MC can't be with him no matter what they do

I also found out that the nickname is a phrase from romeo and juliet (which furthermore implies crowe will die)

We know what romeo and juliet is about: romeo and juliet cant be together because their families are enemies (some people believe Crowes father might be them man MCs father owes money to(i personally doubt thah though but it would support this romeo and juliet situation)) and at the end romeo thinks that juliet died, kills himself and then juliet turns out to not be dead but kills herself after seeing romeo dead

-Jericho Ichabod is a character from Sleepy Hollow, along Katrina (the FMC who owns a farm (what a coincidence)) and Brom Bones (its implied he is the headless horseman). In the story, jericho courts Katrina at a party, she rejects him and on his way home the headless horseman kills him (in the scene where Sol accompanies MC to class he says 'it's always been you ichabod' which could furthermore imply that crowe or his family have something do to with the fact that Sol and MC arent together)

In the library scene with Crowe he asks MC about their opinion on marie Antoinette and when MC says something negative about her, his reaction seems kind of strange. MC also brought a book about torture devices and execution methods and in that book is a picture of 'The Executioner' and he has scars on his arms, wears a mask and a chained collar. This correlates with some of sols features. He has scars on his arms (as seen in one of fantasias drawings), wears a chocker (he also wears a mask when he breaks into MCs room but that's really something anyone who does that would do). This implies even more that he will kill crowe.

#tkatb sol #tkatb vn #the kid at the back #solivan brugmansia #Crowe #jericho ichabod #Crowe ichabod #sol brugmansia #yandere visual novel #yandere #yandere vn #tkatb #tkatb theory #tkatb crowe

204 notes · View notes

zours025 · 10 days ago

Text

Zombie apocalypse face au I've been thinking of...

Thoughts/details on the AU and an alt color vers of the first drawing (luring you into my evil cave) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Face as unrelated parties... All normal humans. Caname and fruk (separately) wandering the world after generic zombie outbreak. Theyre some of the last ones left so they rarely meet people and need to depend on the other party heavily. Blahblah its miserable everyone is sad and hurt and tired. Francis had to cut off Arthurs leg to prevent an infection. Arthur has to learn to lean on Francis for a lot of stuff and they learn to get over past grudges and such... 😇 Alfred is bitten at some point and hides it from Matthew. Matthew knows, but he's basically lost any will to live and is ready to die whenever Alfred turns because. Well. "I'm only living for him anyways..." type of sentiment... They ignore it and it's never brought up but it's like. I know you know that I know that- Anyways. So those two are trying their hardest to live out their last days in relative happiness. Doing fun stuff. Appreciating the simple things, landscapes, each other's company, etc... That is until they bump into Francis and Arthur in a totally horrible state. And it's like "Well... We can't just let them die can we? We have nothing to lose anyways." So they watch over the two and care for them and once they're all in okay health they decide to stick together and move on. But Arthur and Francis are clearly more determined to live than Mattie and Alfred and they're good fighters. So they wanna keep em around, all while hiding that Alfred is slowly dying and is eventually gonna kill them all. Milking Francis and Arthur's good will... Eventually new relationships form between the four and inevitably weird "betrayal!" and jealousy type feelings show up... Francis is tired of just sleeping with Arthur and when he gets mad he flirts with either of the twins... And the like... Well I haven't thought the whole thing through but these are the important emotional bases to the idea I guess...

I wrote a scenario for many different possibilities of first-to-dies (because i find them all interesting and bcuz twitter oomf asked and i have no restraint. lole)

Alfred dies first: Most obvious scenario (like hes already a bit zombified and clearly hes getting physically weaker) Im imagining a terrible scenario no matter what. Matthew probably finds him first all hunched over and stuff womdering whats wrong before realising that it's finally the end of the line. Francis/Arthur aren't far behind and they blow "Alfreds" head off without hesitation. Obviously causes a rift between the two and Matthew, who broke their trust by hiding this from them. Matthew is inconsolable for a few days, he thought he had more time. Despite the lie I think Francis and Arthur would end up feeling sympathy. They try to keep Matthew up on his feet but frankly I think this would end with him blowing his brains out eventually anyways... 😊

Alternatively Mattie has been mentally preparing himself for a very long time and he immediately kills "Alfred" and then himself in quick succession. Francis and Arthur are haunted by the memory of the two for the rest of their trip.

Arthur dies first: Similarly, I think its easy to imagine this. He's missing a leg and mostly needs to be near someone else to survive zombie attacks/ambushes. Would probably accidentally get separated from the group and get overrun... Might use himself as a distraction to allow the other three to get away in a particularly dire situation... In a way he thinks hes just dead weight anyways and he wants to see the other three live knowing that he doesn't have much left to offer them (Francis would disagree). Francis is obviously very upset and he loses sleep over the memory of Arthur, his last "real" link to his normal life before all of this. But I think Francis is stable enough to prioritise the twins he took under his wing. He knows they need someone to keep them together, so he toughs it out. Everything is fine till Alfred turns some many months later. By then, Francis developed a strong attachment to the two and doesn't have any regrets. Would probably struggle against Alfreds strength to allow Matthew to escape or something along those lines...

Francis dies first: I can also see him just getting killed by sheer numbers. I think he grew very fond of the twins pretty fast + had to be Arthurs protection for a long time and so he developed this feeling of "I need to keep them all safe at all costs". I don't think itd be as much of a letting go type thing as Arthur. It's more calculated and would only happen in a worst-case scenario. I think Arthur would be pretty irritable for the next few weeks, a lot of things remind him of Francis. It bothers him since he wants to just forget and move on, but he finds that his feelings are more difficult to control than he initially thought. Yells a lot at Matthew and Alfred and gets into petty fights. Its not pretty, but they have their moments... In the end, it's not like he wants to make them suffer. They're all he has left now. Hes trying his best. Has a lot of days where he just wishes he had been the one to die instead.

Matthew dies first: Honestly I'm imagining a non-zombie related death, like an accident with one of the guns or some unrelated illness or like. Falling onto a branch? Falling from high up in general? Setting off a trap? Lol idk. Something that allows Alfred to hold Matthew during his final moments or at least look into his eyes. I think hes also the most liable to flip out on everyone and just kill the four of them all together idk ❤ Crazy girl ❤ It shocks Alfred immensely. He expected to be the first one to die and he's really upset about the whole thing. Outwardly, he cracks jokes and tries to convince the other two that he's fine but he's very much not. Doesn't really know what tk do with himself. Just goes through the motions every day. Francis and Arthur notice the slight change in behaviour but don't really say anything and pretend everything is fine. Playing at being a normal family. Arthur and Francis try spending lots of time with Alfred but nothing really helps. Eventually Alfred turns without ever telling them he was infected and they all die the end. Alternatively he kills the other two and then himself on like a random Tuesday. ❤

Bonus: Everyone except Alfred dies lol. Alone in the desolate empty landscape. Welp!!! What now!!!

If you saw my first post of this text part no you didn't im editing this and putting it here with the drawing its more organised ❤ okay ❤

260 notes · View notes

indigovigilance · 1 year ago

Text

The Final Fifteen is about Terry Pratchett's Death

read on Ao3

The final fifteen is obviously a major plot point, and serves a role in a story that was written long before Terry Pratchett was ever diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. But the scene itself wasn’t written until just a few years ago, during the writing of Season 2. In fact, the scene came about during a park bench conversation between Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore.

Others have noted that the non-romantic kiss that signals the story moving into the third act is a Neil Gaiman staple. The function of such a kiss, from Gaiman’s perspective, is to communicate.

In 2023 we are seeing a lot of stories written by men, for men, about men who are best friends and discover that their friendship can go deeper than the norms of society would usually allow; that platonic and romantic love are not so far apart, and perhaps the better word for a relationship that can be described this way is intimacy.

Neil Gaiman has made it clear in interviews that his friendship with Terry Pratchett was deeply intimate. They began collaborating on what would become Good Omens in the 1980’s, endured a tumultuous experience together through the first publication, wherein Neil offered to martyr himself on behalf of Terry if the book failed, and then spent the better part of two decades touring the world, meeting the people who loved their work. Neil would even off-handedly remark that Terry’s fans were so cheerful, and Neil’s seemed like they were ready to kill themselves; wouldn’t it be nice if they got married? From the outside, it looks very much as if Terry was Aziraphale-coded, and Neil was Crowley-coded, working together in an unexpected partnership to make the world a little bit more tolerable for the humans inhabiting it. I am not conjecturing that Neil and Terry had romantic inclinations the way their fictional characters do, but I think it is fair to say that their opposites-attract intimacy became an important part of who each of them were.

In 2007 Terry Pratchett was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy, a rare form of Alzheimer’s. As the disease progressed, he began to lose himself, and knew that the person he used to be was slipping away. He wanted to end his life on his own terms, and die as himself, but England did not and still does not allow for voluntary euthanasia or assisted suicide. He advocated for the right to die but never achieved it, and ultimately succumbed to the disease in 2015. Neil Gaiman has spoken a lot on the topic of death, and one answer of his that resonated with me reads:

Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person.

It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard.

~~~

The entire show is seeded with references to Terry Pratchett, but the most important one is the one that’s missing. Neil Gaiman cameoed as a sleeping moviegoer in S1E4, but a long time ago, he and Terry had discussed cameoing as sushi restaurant-goers, because sushi was weirdly prominent in the book. That cameo would have been in S1E1. But when it came time to do it, Neil couldn’t. Not without Terry.

Neil: I was gonna say our location is a Chinese restaurant we’d had turned into a sushi restaurant. So Terry and I, Terry Pratchett and I, had a standing… not even a standing joke, just a standing plan, that we were going to have sushi - there was going to be a scene in Good Omens where sushi was eaten and we were gonna be extras, we were gonna sit in the background, eating sushi while it was done. And I was so looking forward to this and, so I wrote this scene with it being sushi, even though Terry was gone, with that in mind and I thought: Oh, I’ll sit and I’ll eat lots of sushi as an extra, this will be my scene as an extra, I’ll just be in the background. And then, on the day, or a couple of days before, I realized that I couldn’t do it.

Douglas: You never told me this before either. I might have pushed you into doing it, had I known. I think you were right not to tell me.

Neil: I was keeping it to me self ‘cause I was always like: Oh, maybe I’ll be… this will be my cameo. And then I couldn’t. I was just so sad, ‘cause Terry wasn’t there. And it was probably the day that I missed Terry the most of all of the filming - it was just this one scene ‘cause it was written for Terry and all of the sushi meals we’d ever had and all of the strange way that sushi ran through Good Omens.

~~~

In the Final Fifteen, it is clear that Crowley and Aziraphale want to stay together. They love each other. They each know that the other loves them. There’s nothing that needs to be said, no convincing that their bond is true and real and precious.

But Aziraphale has to go to Heaven, and Crowley cannot follow him there.

I cannot speculate what it must have been like for Neil to endure losing a friend who, though I’m sure he desperately wanted to still be in his life, he also knew that life had become a burden to him, and grieved that Terry was not able to choose the time and manner of his departure from this Earth. This sort of complex grief, we fan-ficcers know, is the kind that is often best processed through story-telling.

I think that what we see Crowley going through in the Final Fifteen, alongside its importance to the story arc of Good Omens overall, is Neil processing his grief at losing his friend Terry Pratchett, and even the kiss, that violent, terrible, awful kiss, was the symbolic representation of Neil saying goodbye.

#neil gaiman #terry pratchett #aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ivoc #this meta ended up being only about 2/3 the length of my usual metas and somehow that feels appropriate because Terry's life ended too soon #and the jarring brevity of this piece parallels that feeling of sudden unexpected loss #for me anyways I don't know about you guys #if this made your eyes even slightly moist you are obligated to reblog to help someone else feel their feels #I don’t make the rules #but them is the rules #blessed by Beelzebub

896 notes · View notes

bliss-in-the-void · 1 year ago

Text

My actual canonical interpretation of SatoSugu?

I believe they were the bestest of friends, inseparable soul mates who were mutually in love with each other, but never confessed the depth of their feelings, never discussed their relationship, and never actually made anything out of it.

I believe that Suguru had a massive crush on Satoru throughout their high school years. Satoru was more dense on the other hand and did love Suguru but didn’t know how to place his feelings exactly. Suguru was always by his side and that was enough, he felt secure, so why look into it deeper?

After the trauma from the Star Plasma Vessel mission, Suguru was heartbroken that Satoru left him alone a lot. He missed Satoru and spiraled, self-isolated, started becoming obsessed with his own self-talk about ‘monkeys’ and ‘creating a new world with sorcerers only’. He and Satoru both became self-absorbed. Suguru lost that crush and admiration he had for Satoru even though he still loved him. He wanted his own goals more. So he left.

The second he left, I bet that’s when Satoru realized what Suguru meant to him. That’s probably one of the reasons that Satoru is stuck in the past, because he finally placed his feelings for Suguru, realized he was in love with him, and kept replaying those moments they had together, realizing he never noticed Suguru sending signals, mad at himself for never noticing. He regretted it so badly that he just couldn’t stop living in the past with Suguru. If he’d just paid attention, if he noticed Suguru’s signals, his spiraling, maybe he could have stopped it.

That moment where Suguru returns to the high school to declare war only to leave again, when Satoru watches and watches, (according to the JJK 0 Light Novel) his “eyes kept following the shape of Geto’s soul”. He couldn’t look away. He was filled with so much regret. His entire creed is to raise strong sorcerers together so that no one has to be alone the way Suguru and he ended up.

And when the time came for him to kill Suguru, because last words are so important to him, he finally told Suguru what he should have told him when they were high schoolers. “I love you.”

Suguru, who’d long buried those feelings, probably realized that the things he’d told himself about how Satoru viewed him were wrong. This whole time, Satoru really did love and trust him still. That’s why he smiled. He was loved in return.

“You should at least curse me a little at the end.”

He wishes Satoru would have hated him because now he’s filled with regret. If only they’d had talked sooner, none of this would have happened. Suguru had always placed emphasis on ‘found family’. We see this when he calls Kuroi “Riko’s family” and when he adopts Mimiko and Nanako, as well as the rest of the sorcerers/curse users he rounds up for the Night Parade of 1,000 Demons. With that said, I know for a fact that when they were in high school, he saw Satoru as his family. He saw him as home, as safety, as love.

Really, the only time that he and Satoru aren’t putting on some sort of act is when they’re alone together. It’s strange to see the two of them so serious, especially Satoru, who deflects with humor like his life depends on it. But it’s fitting. They’re just comfortable around each other, there’s no need for masks. They never even seriously raised their hands against each other, nor fatally hurt each other’s family/students.

Now, fast-forward to a year later in Shibuya, when Kenjaku uses the love Satoru and Suguru have for each other against Satoru. How does he know seeing Suguru would have such a drastic effect on Satoru that it would immobilize him completely? Did he watch from afar? Did he keep tabs on them? Or did he see Suguru’s memories somehow? Could he feel how Suguru felt when around Satoru? I’d like to think it was both—Kenjaku kept tabs on them before Suguru died, and gained access to his memories after taking him over.

He even knew the tone Suguru used to use for Satoru’s name. The soft way he called his name. He knew the only thing in the entire world that could stop the strongest sorcerer in modern times was using the love of his life against him.

The smile Satoru had when he thought it was Suguru makes me believe that the only thing he wanted was to see him again.

Then, when he realized it wasn’t him, Kenjaku said “how sad, you don’t recognize me?”

As if to say Suguru would be devasted that Satoru didn’t recognize him. Kenjaku knows how Suguru feels about Satoru.

Then Satoru calls him on his bs and he says “creepy, how did you know?”

Creepy?

The only other time Kenjaku is creeped out is waaaaaaay later in the manga (spoilers ahead) when Satoru sets the fight day to Dec 24th Kenjaku acknowledges that it’s romantic, and that “having a date with him on the 24th gives him the creeps”.

Oh, I know he’s grossed out with how much they love each other. Like. How the hell else do you interpret that???? Come. On.

Add in when Suguru somehow comes back from the dead for a moment and tries to choke his own body to save Satoru. Kenjaku is baffled—that’s never happened before. That is a demonstration of love everlasting, absolutely.

Then you have Shoko’s “I’d never fall in love with either of you, but you were still never alone” to SatoSugu, basically confirming that she knew the two of them shared a romantic bond that she couldn’t replicate the depth of.

So. Yes. They were very very much in love with each other and to this day Satoru loves Suguru with every fiber of his being and lives his life dedicated to atoning for his (self-perceived) failures to Suguru. He thinks about him everyday. He says he was his only friend. He has Shoko, Ijichi, Mei Mei, and Utahime and yet he only sees Suguru. He only sees Suguru.

#this was a rant my bad #but i stand by this #there is no way they weren’t in love #satosugu #satosugu analysis #satosugu headcanon #stsg #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satoru gojo #suguru geto #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen

845 notes · View notes

novaursa · 2 months ago

Note

heyy

Can you make a Jace x twin sister x aemond

She was very close with aemond when she was younger coz she didn’t have any dragon. And she was even engaged to him but after he loses his eyes their engagement went off.

She still had feeling for him and they often exchanged mail but Rhaenyra chooses to married Jace with her.

time pass she is now with Jace, but when her grandfather died she was sent with her brother Luke, aemond see her and want her for himself again.

he chase her in the sky (obsession like not to arm her) and he almost kill her but he rescue her just in time.

Aemond took her to king’s landing to be with him, and when Jace know he become furious

Stormbound

- Summary: You and Aemond were promised to one another since childhood. And when Aemond lost an eye, he also lost you. But the dragon doesn't deal with absolutes.

- Paring: Aemond Targaryen/velaryon!reader/Jacaerys Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. The requests are closed!

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've bonded reader with Grey Ghost, so this plot makes more sense. Also, Lord Borros can read in this one.

The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and wildflowers as you wander through the gardens of Driftmark. Though it was a somber day—a funeral of your aunt Lady Laena Velaryon. You walk beside Aemond, the soft grass beneath your feet muffling your steps. Though just children, you feel the weight of your family's history and the expectations placed upon you. The lush gardens are a refuge, a place where you and Aemond can escape the ever-watchful eyes of your elders.

Aemond’s hand brushes against yours, his fingers briefly lingering before he pulls away, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink. You glance at him, noticing the way his silver hair catches the sunlight, shimmering like the scales of the dragons you both so desperately wish to ride. But neither of you has yet bonded with one. It's a shared pain, a bond that sets you apart from the other Targaryen children.

"I will have a dragon one day," Aemond declares, his voice full of determination. He always speaks with such confidence, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. "And when I do, I will take you flying above the clouds, where no one can reach us."

You smile at the thought, imagining the two of you soaring through the skies together, free from the burdens of your families and the complex web of alliances and rivalries that bind you. "And what if I get my dragon first?" you tease, nudging him gently with your shoulder.

Aemond's expression softens as he meets your gaze. "Then you will take me with you, won't you? We could fly to the ends of the world, just you and me."

The wind rustles the leaves around you, creating a soft, whispering sound, as if the garden itself is urging you closer to each other. You feel a warmth in your chest, a comfort that only Aemond seems to bring you. You've known him all your life, and though the world outside may be full of uncertainty, when you're with him, everything seems to make sense.

You reach a secluded spot, hidden away from the rest of the world, where the flowers bloom in vibrant colors, and the trees form a natural canopy above. Here, in this little haven, you can be just children, free from the expectations of your titles.

Aemond stops suddenly and turns to you, his expression serious. His violet eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. "Do you know why I spend so much time with you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilt your head, curious. "Because we are friends," you reply, though you sense there is something more he wants to say.

"Yes, we are," he agrees, taking a step closer. "But it's more than that. You are... you're my future."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest, one that you haven't felt before. "What do you mean, Aemond?" you ask, your voice wavering slightly.

He takes a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to say what has been on his mind for a long time. "My father and your grandsire, King Viserys, spoke to me not long ago. He told me that I am to marry you one day. Our families have agreed upon it. He said that when we're older, we will be wed."

The revelation leaves you momentarily speechless. You knew that your future would likely involve a political marriage, but to hear that it had already been decided—and to Aemond, of all people—feels both overwhelming and strangely comforting.

Aemond reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours again, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. "I know we're still young, and maybe you don't think about such things yet," he continues, his voice soft and earnest. "But I want you to know that I look forward to it. Being with you, as your husband. Protecting you. Caring for you. I want to make you happy, as you make me."

You stare at him, trying to process his words. Aemond has always been there for you, a constant presence in your life, and the thought of him as your husband... it doesn’t frighten you as much as you thought it might. In fact, it feels right, as if it were meant to be.

"And you," he adds, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, "you will be my wife."

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, and you duck your head to hide it, but Aemond gently lifts your chin, his touch tender. "You don't have to say anything now," he assures you. "I just wanted you to know. So that you never have to wonder where you stand with me."

You nod, your throat tight with emotions you don't quite understand. "I... I don't know what to say, Aemond. But I do know that you're important to me. You always have been."

Aemond smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his face in a way that you rarely see. "That's all I needed to hear."

For a moment, the world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this hidden corner of the garden. As you stand there, hand in hand, you know that your bond will only grow stronger with time.

The sound of distant laughter breaks the moment, and you both turn to see Jacaerys running towards you, his smile wide and carefree. He calls your name, beckoning you to join him, and for now, you allow yourself to be a child once more, running through the gardens with your brother and Aemond.

But in the back of your mind, you carry Aemond’s words with you, feeling a small spark of excitement for the life you will one day share with him.

The journey back to Dragonstone feels longer than usual, the silence within the ship heavy and suffocating. The waves crash against the hull, the only sound breaking the stillness, but even that seems muted, as if the sea itself is mourning the events at Driftmark. You sit in your small cabin, your fingers tracing the edge of a folded letter hidden within the folds of your dress, close to your heart. It’s from Aemond, a hastily written note slipped to you in the chaos after the fight. His words are brief, but they carry the weight of all that was left unsaid between you.

"I did what I had to. I hope you can understand one day. I still care for you."

You read the letter again and again, memorizing the loops and slashes of his handwriting, the way his words seem to tremble with emotion. But each time you read it, the image of Aemond’s face, twisted in pain and anger as he lost his eye, looms larger in your mind. The boy who once held your hand so tenderly now seems like a distant memory, replaced by someone hardened by the cruelty of your shared world.

A knock on the cabin door startles you, and you quickly shove the letter deeper into your dress, your heart racing. When you open the door, you find Jace standing there, his expression a mix of concern and something else you can’t quite place—something heavier, more burdensome.

"Mother wants us," he says simply, his voice strained. There’s no need for more words; you know what this summons means. It’s time to discuss what happened, to face the reality of the fractured alliance between your families.

You follow Jace up to the deck, where your mother, Rhaenyra, and Daemon stand together, their figures silhouetted against the stormy sky. The clouds above Dragonstone are dark, reflecting the mood of the conversation that’s about to unfold. Your brothers are gathered around, their faces drawn and serious.

As you approach, you catch the tail end of a heated exchange between your mother and Daemon.

"Alicent has gone too far this time," Rhaenyra hisses, her voice sharp with anger. "Breaking the engagement without even consulting us—after all the promises made!"

Daemon scoffs, his expression cold and calculating. "She was always going to break it, Rhaenyra. Especially after what happened with Aemond. It’s better this way. That boy is dangerous, and his ambitions will only grow."

Your heart clenches at Daemon’s words. Dangerous? Perhaps, but Aemond is still the boy you grew up with, the one who spoke of your future together with such hope. And yet, as you recall the events at Driftmark, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear. Aemond had changed in that moment, his desperation leading him to claim Vhagar and then fight with your brothers. You know that things can never be the same between your families, but does that mean your bond with Aemond must be severed as well?

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts to you and Jace, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks at the two of you, standing side by side as you have so many times before. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes, a weariness that seems to have settled into her bones.

"It should have been different," she murmurs, almost to herself. "But now we must think of what’s best for our family. For the realm."

You and Jace exchange a glance, both of you sensing that something significant is about to be said. Rhaenyra’s grip tightens on the railing of the ship, her knuckles white, as she turns fully to face you.

"The bonds between our families have been strained to the breaking point," she begins, her voice steady but filled with sorrow. "Alicent’s actions have shown that she no longer honors the agreements made your grandsire. The betrothal between you and Aemond is no more. It’s been annulled."

Your breath catches in your throat, though you knew this was coming. Hearing the words aloud feels like a blow to the chest. You instinctively touch the hidden letter in your dress, as if seeking some comfort from Aemond’s words. But your mother’s next words leave you reeling.

"To strengthen our house, and to protect our claim, I have decided that you and Jace will marry. It is what should have been from the start. It’s what’s best for all of us."

Jace stiffens beside you, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. You feel the world tilt beneath your feet as you try to process what your mother has just said. Marry Jace? Your twin, your closest confidant? The idea feels foreign and unnatural, even though you’ve always known that your future would be tied to political alliances.

Daemon steps forward, placing a hand on Rhaenyra’s shoulder in a rare gesture of solidarity. "It’s the right move, Rhaenyra. The Hightowers have shown their hand, and we must be ready to counter them. A marriage between the two of them will solidify our position and keep our enemies at bay."

"But—" you begin, your voice trembling. "Jace is my brother. We’ve never... I never thought..."

Rhaenyra’s expression softens as she takes a step closer to you. "I know, my dear. I know this is difficult. But we must think of the greater good. The two of you are the future of our house, and together, you will be stronger. We cannot afford any more divisions, not now."

Jace finally finds his voice, though it’s thick with emotion. "Mother, is this truly necessary? I would do anything for our family, but to marry my sister... it feels... wrong."

Rhaenyra’s eyes flash with determination. "You are not just brother and sister, Jace. You are heirs to the Iron Throne. And in our family, such unions have always been a way to keep the bloodline pure and our claim uncontested. You must trust me in this."

You look at Jace, seeing your own turmoil reflected in his eyes. You have always been close, sharing everything, but marriage? It feels like a betrayal of the bond you shared, something that could change the dynamic between you forever.

Daemon’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone commanding. "This is not just about love or comfort. This is about power, about survival. The Hightowers will stop at nothing to see their line on the throne. We must be prepared to meet them with equal strength."

Rhaenyra nods, her resolve hardening. "Jace, Y/N, you must do this. For the sake of our house, for the legacy of our ancestors. You are the future, and together, you can secure it."

There’s a long silence as the weight of her words settles over you both. You can feel the eyes of your younger brothers on you, their innocent faces not yet fully understanding the gravity of what’s being decided. You feel torn between duty and the remnants of your childhood dreams—the promise of a future with Aemond, now shattered, and the new path being forced upon you.

Finally, Jace speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "If it is what must be done, then I will do it."

His words hang in the air, final and resolute, and you know that there’s no turning back now. Your mother’s expression softens, and she reaches out to touch your cheek gently.

"You are stronger than you know," she says, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "And together, you and Jace will be unstoppable."

You nod, though your heart is heavy, and as the ship finally docks at Dragonstone, you feel the weight of the future pressing down on you. The letter from Aemond still burns against your skin, a reminder of what might have been, but as you step onto the rocky shores of your ancestral home, you know that you must let go of that dream.

The path before you is set, and though it’s not the one you envisioned, you will walk it with your head held high, just as your mother taught you.

The air over Dragonstone is foreboding, filled with the weight of a war that has not yet begun but feels inevitable. The sky is a dull gray, heavy with the promise of rain. You stand on the edge of the cliff, the sea crashing against the rocks far below, the salty spray mingling with the mist. Beside you, Grey Ghost shifts restlessly, the massive dragon sensing your unease. His pale scales shimmer like ghostly silver in the dim light, his deep rumbling breaths a comfort in the otherwise oppressive atmosphere.

Your mother’s words still echo in your mind: "You must go to Storm’s End with your brother. Deliver our message to Lord Borros Baratheon and secure his allegiance. We cannot afford to lose the Stormlands."

You turn to your brother, Luke, who stands a few paces away, his face a mask of determination. He is trying to be brave, trying to embody the strength that your mother has instilled in all of you, but you can see the fear in his eyes. He is still so young, and the thought of him facing whatever awaits at Storm’s End fills you with a dread you cannot shake.

Before you can speak to him, you feel a presence at your side. Jacaerys, your twin, your closest companion in all things, steps close to you. His dragon, Vermax, waits nearby, his golden eyes watching you both with an intelligence that never fails to unsettle you.

"Are you ready?" Jace asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of emotions—concern, affection, and something deeper that has grown between you in these past months.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with love and fear all at once. "As ready as I’ll ever be," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Jace reaches out, taking your hand in his. The touch is warm, grounding you in the moment. "I don’t want you to go," he admits softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Not to Storm’s End, not anywhere dangerous. But I know you must."

You squeeze his hand, drawing comfort from his presence. "And I don’t want you flying to the Vale or the North, but you must as well. We both have our duties, Jace. We have to do this for our mother, for our family."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, and in that moment, it feels as though the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, standing together on the precipice of something far greater than yourselves. "When this is over, when we’ve secured our mother’s throne," Jace begins, his voice full of conviction, "we will be together, as we’re meant to be. We’ll marry, and nothing will ever separate us again."

You smile at him, though tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I look forward to that day more than anything," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

Jace steps closer, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His touch is tender, and when he leans in to press his lips to yours, the kiss is gentle, filled with all the unspoken words and promises that have passed between you. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing, of a future that both of you desperately want but cannot fully grasp yet.

The wind picks up around you, tugging at your hair, but you don’t move away from him. His lips linger on yours, and for a moment, all the fear and uncertainty fades away, leaving only the warmth of his love.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you close your eyes, savoring the closeness. "Come back to me," he whispers, his voice a plea that echoes in your heart.

"I will," you promise, your voice barely more than a breath. "And you come back to me."

He nods, and with one last kiss, he steps away, his hand slipping from yours reluctantly. The loss of his touch feels like a cold void, but you force yourself to remain strong. You have to be, for your family, for your future.

Jace turns to Luke, his expression becoming serious once more. "Take care of her," he says, his tone protective.

Luke nods, his face pale but resolute. "I will, Jace. I promise."

With that, Jace mounts Vermax, the dragon’s scales gleaming like emeralds in the gray light. You watch as they take flight, the powerful wings beating against the wind, carrying them up into the sky. For a moment, your heart feels like it’s being torn in two, but you push the feeling down, focusing on the task ahead.

You turn to Luke, offering him a reassuring smile. "We’ll do this, brother. We’ll make sure our mother’s claim is secure."

He nods, and together, you mount your dragons, the beasts shifting eagerly beneath you. You can feel Grey Ghost’s excitement, his connection with you strong and unwavering. With a final glance at Dragonstone, the place that has been your home and your sanctuary, you urge Grey Ghost into the air.

The wind rushes past you, the world falling away as you soar higher and higher. Below, the sea stretches out endlessly, the waves rolling in constant motion. You and Luke fly side by side, your dragons’ wings cutting through the sky with a powerful grace that fills you with a sense of invincibility.

But as you draw closer to Storm’s End, the storm clouds grow darker, swirling ominously. You can feel the tension in the air, a warning of what’s to come. You steal a glance at Luke, who meets your gaze with a determined nod. Together, you dive towards the fortress, your hearts heavy with the knowledge that this is just the beginning.

But through it all, you hold onto the promise of Jace’s words, of the life you will build together when the war is won. For now, that hope is enough to carry you through the storm.

The storm rages as you and Luke descend from the skies, the wind howling around you, and the rain pelting your faces like cold needles. The once distant silhouette of Storm’s End grows larger and more imposing with each passing second, its dark towers outlined by the flashes of lightning that split the sky. Grey Ghost’s massive wings beat powerfully beneath you, his body shifting with the wind as he angles towards the courtyard. Beside you, Luke struggles to keep Arrax steady, the young dragon’s movements more erratic in the harsh winds.

As you approach the ground, your eyes catch something that sends a jolt of dread through your heart—a massive shape looming in the distance, just beyond the castle walls. Vhagar. The ancient dragon sits like a shadow in the storm, her vast form barely visible in the driving rain. A surge of fear and unease washes over you, your mind flashing back to that terrible night at Driftmark, to the boy you once knew and cared for so deeply, who now rides the beast that haunts your nightmares.

You turn to Luke, his face pale but resolute as he prepares to land. You force yourself to push down the rising panic, knowing you must be strong for him. "Be brave, Luke," you call out over the storm, your voice barely audible above the wind. "We’re here to do our duty. Mother is counting on us."

He nods, his jaw set with determination as he brings Arrax down beside Grey Ghost. The courtyard is a whirl of activity despite the storm—guards and stablehands rushing to secure the dragons, their movements quick and practiced. You dismount swiftly, your boots splashing into the puddles that have formed on the stone ground, the rain soaking through your cloak almost immediately. The cold, damp air clings to your skin, making you shiver as you look around, your heart pounding in your chest.

The guards approach, their expressions stern as they motion for you and Luke to follow them. You fall into step beside your brother, your heart tightening with every step that brings you closer to the castle’s great hall, closer to the man you know is waiting inside. The memory of your last encounter with Aemond, the tension and hostility that had hung in the air during that fateful dinner after your grandsire proclaimed Luke the heir to Driftmark, is fresh in your mind. And the memory of Daemon’s blade severing Vaemond Velaryon’s head—another reminder of how fragile and dangerous your world has become.

Your mind races with the possibilities of what awaits you in the hall. Aemond’s presence here is both expected and dreaded. How will he react to seeing you again? And how will you maintain your composure in front of him, knowing all that has transpired?

The guards lead you through the corridors of Storm’s End, the stone walls echoing with the roar of the storm outside. Every step feels heavier than the last, your heart thudding in your chest as you approach the doors of the great hall. Luke glances at you, his eyes wide with anxiety, and you give him a reassuring nod, though your own nerves are frayed.

The heavy doors swing open with a groan, revealing the low lit interior of the hall. At the far end of the room, Lord Borros Baratheon sits upon his seat, a large and imposing figure, his expression unreadable as he watches your approach. And standing off to the side, his figure partially hidden in shadow, is Aemond.

Your breath catches as your eyes meet his. He is as you remember him, yet there is something colder, more dangerous in his demeanor now. The eyepatch he wears does little to soften the sharpness of his gaze, which is fixed entirely on you. The air between you feels charged, electric, as if the storm outside has found its way into the room.

Luke clears his throat and steps forward, his voice steady as he addresses Lord Borros. "Lord Borros, we come bearing a message from our mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

He extends the scroll, and one of Borros’s attendants takes it, bringing it to the lord. Borros unrolls the parchment, his eyes scanning the contents, but you can feel Aemond’s gaze never leaving you, the intensity of it almost unbearable. You force yourself to stand tall, meeting his stare with all the courage you can muster.

Borros reads the letter in silence, his expression darkening as he takes in the words. When he finally looks up, his eyes shift between you and Luke before settling on Aemond. "So, the whore’s son comes to Storm’s End to call upon the loyalty of House Baratheon," Borros says, his voice a deep rumble. "And what does your mother offer me in return for this allegiance?"

Luke stiffens at the insult, but before he can respond, Aemond steps forward, his focus solely on you. "She offers nothing that we cannot take by force," Aemond says smoothly, his voice low and dangerous. He moves closer, his gaze never wavering from yours. "You should be on your knees, begging for mercy. And you"—he nods to Luke—"owe me an eye."

Luke flinches, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword, but you step forward, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. "Aemond," you say, your voice trembling slightly, though you try to keep it steady. "We are here as envoys, not as enemies."

Aemond’s lips curl into a cold smile. "Are you?" His gaze flickers over you, lingering on the pendant around your neck—the one you’ve worn since childhood, a gift from him when you were both younger and the world was simpler. "You should be by my side, as was always intended. Come with me to King’s Landing. Leave this farce behind. It’s where you belong."

His words cut through you like a blade, stirring up a mixture of emotions—anger, sadness, and a deep, unspoken longing that you’ve tried so hard to bury. You stare at him, struggling to find the right words. "I am where I am meant to be," you reply, your voice firmer now. "My place is with my family."

Aemond’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. "Your place is by my side. It was decided long ago. If not for your mother’s ambitions and your brother’s blade, you would already be my wife."

The tension in the room is shimmering, the storm outside seeming to echo the storm within the hall. Luke looks to you, uncertainty written on his face, but before either of you can respond, Lord Borros rises from his seat, his patience clearly waning.

"Enough of this," Borros barks, his voice commanding attention. "I will not have my hall turned into a battleground for your family’s squabbles." He turns his gaze to you and Luke, his eyes narrowing. "You come here, expecting my loyalty, offering nothing in return but the word of your mother. I am no dog to be called when she whistles."

You feel a sinking feeling in your chest as Borros continues. "Tell your mother that House Baratheon will not be swayed so easily. My daughters are of age, and I will choose the best match for them—one that will bring strength to my house."

Your heart sinks further, knowing that this means Borros will likely side with Aegon, who can offer a marriage alliance. Luke’s face falls, his youthful optimism crushed by the reality of politics and power.

Borros waves a hand dismissively. "You may take your leave. But know this—if you try to force my hand, you will find yourself on the wrong side of Storm’s End’s walls."

You feel a chill run down your spine as you turn to leave, but Aemond’s voice stops you in your tracks. "You’re making a mistake," he says, his voice low and menacing, though it is directed at you rather than Lord Borros. "You cannot escape your destiny."

You meet his gaze one last time, a thousand words left unspoken between you. But you can’t afford to falter now. With a final nod to Luke, you lead him out of the hall, your heart heavy with the weight of what has transpired.

As you step back into the storm, the wind and rain battering against you, you feel Aemond’s gaze still on you, burning into your back. You don’t look back, even as your heart tightens painfully in your chest. You force yourself to focus on Luke, on getting him back to Arrax and out of this place safely.

You reach the courtyard, the storm raging even fiercer than before. Grey Ghost and Arrax wait anxiously, their eyes glowing in the darkness. You help Luke onto Arrax’s back, your hands shaking with the cold and the tension that still thrums through your veins.

As you mount Grey Ghost, you cast one last glance at Storm’s End, feeling Aemond’s presence like a shadow over your heart. Then, with a firm command, you urge Grey Ghost into the sky, Luke following close behind. The wind howls around you as you soar into the storm, the castle disappearing into the mist below.

The storm has swallowed the world in darkness, the sky an unrelenting swirl of black clouds and driving rain. You push Grey Ghost harder, his wings beating against the gale-force winds as you and Luke streak through the stormy sky. Lightning flashes, illuminating the rolling sea far below, the waves crashing violently against one another, echoing the tumult in your heart.

But then, through the roar of the storm, you hear it—a deep, guttural sound that sends a jolt of terror through you. You glance back, your heart leaping into your throat as you see the enormous shadow emerging from the clouds. Vhagar. The ancient dragon cuts through the sky like a nightmare come to life, her massive wings nearly blotting out the sky. And on her back, you can just make out the figure of Aemond, his silver hair whipping in the wind, his single eye locked on you with a frightening intensity.

“Luke!” you cry, urging Grey Ghost to fly faster, but the storm seems to conspire against you, the winds shifting, making it impossible to gain speed. You can see the panic in Luke’s eyes as he glances back, his young face pale against the dark sky. “We have to split up!” you shout, your voice barely carrying over the storm.

He nods reluctantly, his face set with determination. "Be careful," he yells back, veering Arrax to the left, disappearing into the churning clouds.

But Vhagar does not follow him. Instead, the enormous dragon continues to barrel toward you, her focus entirely on Grey Ghost. Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the gap between you and Aemond closing with terrifying speed. You glance back again, and in that moment, you catch Aemond’s gaze, his face contorted into a fierce determination. His eye is no longer on the hunt; it’s on you.

"Fly, Grey Ghost!" you urge, leaning low over your dragon’s neck, your voice tinged with desperation. But you know it’s futile. Vhagar is too large, too powerful, and even Grey Ghost, swift as he is, cannot outrun the monster that bears down on you.

In a flash of lightning, you see Vhagar’s enormous maw open, and Grey Ghost lets out a furious roar as he attempts to dodge the attack. But it’s too late. Vhagar’s jaws snap shut just behind your dragon, her talons lashing out to catch him. There’s a sudden jolt as Grey Ghost is wrenched out of the sky, and you’re thrown against the saddle, your grip slipping as you fight to hold on.

Vhagar’s claws dig into Grey Ghost’s side, pinning him against the rocky cliffs below. The impact is violent, the ground shuddering beneath you as Vhagar slams Grey Ghost down. You feel the air rush out of your lungs as Grey Ghost lets out a pained roar, his body pinned under Vhagar’s immense weight. The world tilts dangerously as you realize you’re about to be crushed beneath the two dragons.

With a surge of adrenaline, you unbuckle yourself from the saddle and leap off Grey Ghost’s back, hitting the ground hard. You roll to avoid being caught under Vhagar’s claws, the rough stones scraping against your hands and knees. Pain shoots through your limbs, but you force yourself to stand, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you look up at the towering form of Vhagar.

Aemond is already descending from the saddle, his boots hitting the ground with a splash of rain-soaked earth. His face is shadowed by the storm, but the determination in his single eye is unmistakable. His presence feels like a force of nature, as unstoppable as the storm itself.

Before you can even think to run, Aemond is upon you. His hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a grip that is firm yet surprisingly gentle. His touch sends a jolt through you, a confusing mix of fear and something else—something deeper, something you’ve tried to bury.

"You’re coming with me," Aemond declares, his voice low and unyielding. The rain cascades down his face, mingling with the strands of his silver hair, but his eye never wavers from yours. "This is where you belong, with me, in King’s Landing."

You try to wrench your hand free, but his grip tightens. "Let me go, Aemond!" you shout, your voice raw with anger and fear. "You can’t just take me like this!"

He steps closer, his body towering over yours, the heat of his presence cutting through the cold rain. "You were promised to me," he says, his voice a growl, filled with a barely controlled fury. "Before your mother, before my mother, you were promised to me. That was the true path, the one that should have been followed. I’m taking back what was stolen from me."

Your heart races as his words sink in, the sheer intensity of his resolve leaving you breathless. You can see it in his eye—the same desperation you felt that night in Driftmark, the desperation that drove him to claim Vhagar. But this is different; this is personal.

"I am not yours to take!" you shout, your voice cracking under the weight of the emotions roiling inside you. "I’m not some prize to be won!"

Aemond’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that is somehow more terrifying than his earlier anger. "You’re wrong," he says, his breath warm against your ear despite the cold. "You’ve always been mine. From the moment we were children, we belonged to each other. I knew it then, and I know it now."

You shake your head, tears mingling with the rain on your cheeks. "No, Aemond. We were children then. Things are different now."

His expression softens just slightly, and for a brief moment, you see the boy you once knew, the boy who held your hand in the gardens of Driftmark and promised to protect you. "Things don’t have to be different," he says quietly. "We can still be what we were meant to be. I will make you my wife, back at the capital. No matter what Rhaenyra or Alicent say."

Your breath catches in your throat at the intensity of his words. You feel the world closing in around you, the storm raging, the dragons snarling in the background, but all you can focus on is the man before you, the man who is both your past and the future he so desperately wants.

But you know you cannot let him take you, not like this. Not as a pawn in the game your families are playing. "Aemond, please," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. "This isn’t the way."

He looks at you, his eye searching yours, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of doubt, a hesitation. But then it’s gone, replaced by the fierce resolve that has always defined him. "It’s the only way," he says, his voice final. "You’re coming with me, and together we’ll make our own destiny."

Before you can respond, he pulls you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist with a possessive strength. The proximity sends your heart into a wild rhythm, confusion and fear tangling with the old, familiar feelings you’ve tried to deny for so long.

"Aemond—" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"We’ll be together," he says, his voice a vow. "I’ll keep you safe, no matter what. You’ll see, this is the only way."

The crackling fire in the hearth does little to warm the cold stone walls of Winterfell's great hall. The North is a place of enduring chill, where the warmth of the flames fights a losing battle against the ever-present cold. But for Jacaerys Velaryon, standing before the fire, the cold within him is not merely from the Northern air. It’s a cold that has settled deep in his bones, born from a letter that trembles in his hand.

Cregan Stark watches him, his gray eyes sharp and perceptive, though he says nothing. The Lord of Winterfell has seen many men face terrible news, and he knows better than to push too quickly. But even he cannot help but feel a flicker of concern at the way Jacaerys clenches his jaw, the muscles ticking with restrained fury.

Jacaerys reads the letter again, as if hoping the words will change, but they do not. They remain as damning and horrifying as the first time.

"My son, upon your return from the North, you will not find your sister here at Dragonstone. She has been taken, stolen from us by Aemond Targaryen. He has brought her to King’s Landing, and there are whispers that he intends to wed her against her will. I fear for her safety and what this means for our cause. You must return to me as swiftly as you can, for the time to act is upon us."

The parchment crumples slightly under his grip, the tension in his body vibrating with barely controlled rage. He can hardly breathe, the thought of his sister—your sister—in Aemond’s hands making his blood boil. The fire within him threatens to consume him, but Jacaerys knows he must keep his head. He must think, must plan.

But all he can feel is the roaring in his ears, the overwhelming need to fly south and tear Aemond apart with his bare hands.

Cregan steps closer, his boots barely making a sound on the flagstone floor. "Jacaerys," he says, his voice a deep rumble that commands attention but carries no judgment. "What has happened?"

Jacaerys clenches his fists, trying to force the words out without letting the fury consume him. "Aemond," he grits out, his voice low and dangerous. "He took her. He took my sister."

Cregan’s eyes narrow, understanding dawning in their gray depths. "Took her?" he echoes, his voice calm but laced with a growing concern. "Where? When?"

Jacaerys swallows hard, the words sticking in his throat like shards of glass. "After Storm’s End. I knew she was heading there with Luke, but I thought they’d return. I thought—" He stops, his breath hitching as the weight of his failure presses down on him. "I should have been there."

Cregan places a hand on his shoulder, a firm yet comforting gesture. "You couldn’t have known," he says quietly. "None of us could have. But tell me what you know, Jacaerys. We can’t act without understanding the full extent of the situation."

Jacaerys forces himself to breathe, to push through the fog of anger clouding his thoughts. He straightens, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "My mother’s letter," he begins, his voice still rough with emotion, "says that after they left Storm’s End, Aemond pursued them. He chased them on Vhagar and... somehow, he managed to catch up with them. He—" Jacaerys’ voice breaks for a moment, but he grits his teeth and continues. "He took her. He took her to King’s Landing."

Cregan’s expression hardens, his hand tightening slightly on Jacaerys’ shoulder. "And what does he intend to do with her?"

The question is a knife to Jacaerys’ gut, the unspoken implications clear between them. He can hardly bring himself to say it, but he knows he must. "There are whispers," he says slowly, the words heavy with dread, "that he plans to marry her. That he’ll force her to be his wife."

Cregan’s jaw clenches, and he nods, his mind already turning to the potential consequences. "If that is true, it would be a bold move by Aemond," he says, his voice measured. "He must know it would enrage your mother, perhaps even push her to act more recklessly than she might otherwise. But if he succeeds... it could strengthen his claim, and by extension, Aegon’s."

Jacaerys’ heart pounds painfully in his chest, his mind racing with the possibilities. "I have to go after her," he says suddenly, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. "I can’t just sit here while Aemond—while he—" He can’t finish the sentence, the thought too horrifying to voice.

Cregan’s grip on his shoulder tightens, grounding him in the present moment. "And you will," he assures Jacaerys, his voice steady and firm. "But you must not act out of rage alone. We need to think this through. If you fly south now, without a plan, you could be walking into a trap."

Jacaerys shakes his head, his frustration and anger boiling over. "I can’t just sit here!" he snaps, pulling away from Cregan’s grasp. "I won’t let him do this to her! She’s my sister—she’s everything to me! And Aemond—he can’t—he won’t get away with this!"

Cregan watches him with a calm, steady gaze, letting Jacaerys vent his anger. When the younger man finally stops, breathing heavily, Cregan speaks again, his tone measured. "I understand your fury, Jacaerys. I would feel the same if it were my kin. But I also know that anger alone will not save her. We must be smart about this."

Jacaerys turns back to Cregan, the fire in his eyes now mixed with desperation. "Then tell me what to do," he demands, his voice shaking. "Tell me how to save her."

Cregan’s face is grave, his mind clearly weighing the options. "First, we must send word to your mother," he says. "She needs to know that you’ve received her message and that we’re preparing to act. Second, we must consider how to approach King’s Landing. Charging in with dragons might provoke a response that puts your sister in greater danger."

Jacaerys opens his mouth to argue, but Cregan holds up a hand, silencing him. "But we cannot wait too long," Cregan continues. "Aemond’s intentions might not be clear yet, but the longer she remains in King’s Landing, the harder it will be to bring her back safely."

Jacaerys feels the weight of those words, the cold reality of the situation settling over him like a shroud. Every moment that passes could bring more harm to you, the sister he loves more than anything in the world. He looks down at the letter in his hand, his vision blurring with unshed tears.

"I can’t lose her, Cregan," he whispers, his voice cracking. "She’s... she’s everything to me."

Cregan’s expression softens, and he places a hand on Jacaerys’ arm. "You won’t lose her," he says with quiet conviction. "We’ll get her back. But you need to keep your wits about you, Jacaerys. For her sake."

Jacaerys nods slowly, trying to push down the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume him. He has to be strong, has to think clearly if he’s going to save you. But it’s hard, so hard, when all he wants to do is fly south and tear Aemond apart for daring to take you.

Cregan steps back, his expression becoming more focused, more tactical. "We’ll start by preparing our forces," he says, already moving towards the door. "And we’ll send ravens to your mother, letting her know what we plan to do. We’ll need to coordinate our efforts if we’re going to succeed."

Jacaerys follows him, the anger still simmering in his chest, but now tempered by the need for action. "And then?" he asks, his voice rough.

Cregan pauses at the doorway, turning back to Jacaerys with a look of steely determination. "And then we’ll go to King’s Landing," he says. "And we’ll bring her home."

The words are a promise, one that Jacaerys clings to as he prepares to face the storm that lies ahead. No matter what it takes, no matter the cost, he will save you. And Aemond will pay for what he’s done.

But even as he steels himself for the battle to come, the fear lingers in his heart—the fear that he might be too late, that Aemond might already have taken something from you that can never be returned. It’s a thought that fuels the fire within him, the need to protect you from the man who has already taken so much.

As he follows Cregan out into the cold, Jacaerys vows that he will not rest until you are safe again, until you are back where you belong—with him, by his side, where no one can ever take you away again.

#house of the dragon #hotd x female reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #jacerys x reader #jace x y/n #jace x you #jace x reader #jacaerys x y/n #jacerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader

284 notes · View notes