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sunnyknight-original · 7 months ago

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Dear My Dear -

an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow

At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…

*now what?

Its lore time. omg theres so much-

The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.

THE BIGGER PICTURE

This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.

I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.

Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.

ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…

Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.

(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)

my dear wingdings,)

Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.

you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)

Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-

Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!

(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)

i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)

the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans

The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.

Or if Wingdings just became him.

A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.

i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)

2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.

The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things

but i cannot live like that.)

Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.

Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!

and it seems you cannot live any other way.)

another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.

I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”

when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)

When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.

As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.

But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!

He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**

Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.

Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”

i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.

Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.

The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.

Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.

theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)

Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying

“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego

I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.

Thats the good man within him

you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)

the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.

The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.

Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later

Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-

Its not that deep…but still-

i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)

CALL BACK!!!!!!

Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.

As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.

i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)

GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!

Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.

cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out

EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and…hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…

and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.

- your brother

As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!

Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.

Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.

the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.

FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!

weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day

also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.

un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-

well I mean that-….. hm…

does that…? hmm, well….

#forgettable au #dont forget #despite everything #despite what you remember now #youre still you

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strwbabydoll · 1 year ago

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The Feeling Came Late

Prologue

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem!sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter .5/? (wc: 1.5k)

001 | 01 | 02 | 03

masterlist

- - - - - -

Fond memories ignored, thrown away in a second as if they meant nothing to him. Like the years of laughter were all just a dream, but they’re not. They were real and it drove him crazy. Harry only stared at the wall, face red and tears streaming down his face angrily. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. He was angry, angry at the world, at himself because that was his best friend and at her.

He was just a boy, a kid when it happened. Happy in his “prime years” of high school, he was thriving academically and socially. He was on top of his class work and one of the top students in all of his classes, alongside his childhood friend. They stayed friendly whenever they competed against each other, giving their congratulations when the other won in anything. Harry enjoyed the thrill of trying to be the first one to turn in his assignment though, he enjoyed the friendly banter they shared afterwards and during. It became their normal, he looked forward to it.

Then it happened, and he was left broken. A shell of the smart and extroverted boy he once was. He can remember every detail of that day, he had just come home from hanging out with his childhood best friend – they had just gotten done studying and finishing the last episode of the season of their favorite TV show – when his mom walked alongside with him. The ride back home from her house to his was silent, filled with a sense of sadness and Harry couldn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. His mom was happy when she dropped him off at school that morning. She sat him down in their living room and said that this was important, and told him. She kept apologizing and trying to reassure him that everything was being done, tried, efforts were being done. They were going to fix this, help him.

Of course, Harry’s just a kid who’s already dealing with all the new emotions of puberty and teenage feelings, so he screamed at her. Yelled something along the lines of “No, you’re lying and I hate you” but that’s still up for debate, he doesn’t think of this day often. He’d stormed away from her crying figure, her apologies are no good to him, won’t make everything better. He cried, screamed and threw things. He destroyed his room, tearing down pictures and throwing trophies, his vision was blurred from all of the tears in his eyes. He hated himself, it wasn’t his fault though. Nothing he could’ve done would have changed what happened, he couldn’t have stopped it. He knows that deep down, but he has to put the blame on someone, and it only makes sense that it has to be him.

When he calmed down some, he’d taken all of his pictures off the wall, he couldn’t look at all of the times he was happy. It only reminded him of the feeling in his chest, and he stashed them all away in a box to be kept in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind he hopes will be the cause, but he kept two pictures. He couldn’t bear to have them forgotten, even if they were going to be locked away still. They were special, the people in the picture were special. They’ll always be special, so he cried some more as he placed them in his nightstand drawer. He spent the majority of the night crying, the tears seemed never ending and he hated it. He ignored his mom calling him for dinner and his sister who knocked on his door to check on him. She only sighed and reminded him that she loves him and will be there for him if he needs anything before she left him alone and headed back to her own room.

Over time, he changed. It wasn’t gradual though, it was very noticeable. He stopped trying to compete with her, stopped trying to be the first anything. He stopped raising his hand, stopped putting efforts into presentations and powerpoints, stopped caring. He started getting into weed, he refused to try any of the harder stuff – not like his friends would give him any, they still had somewhat good morals and he also tried drinking. (A good thing about having older friends is the easy access to these types of things.) He stopped wearing soft and colorful clothes and started wearing darker clothes, jeans with rips in them and short sleeved shirts tight enough to showcase his growing muscles. He worked out more, wasn’t the lanky little boy she used to know anymore, his language expanded, started using more curse words and his tone grew disinterested and mean.

He knew she watched him from a distance with sad eyes, he knew she tried to help him. He listened from his doorway as his mom talked to her, saying any excuse she can think of to not worry the little girl.

‘Harry’s just not feeling very good, dear.’ ‘Harry’s just tired, he’s had a long day.’ ‘You know teenage boys can be difficult dear, he’ll come around soon,’ and other excuses were told to his friend when she came to check on him. He couldn’t exactly make out what the girl was saying in response to his mom, she’s always been such a soft speaker, and it upsets him more. He just wants to be left alone and she cares so much for him that she just want to help in any way, and he doesn’t want to be rude and tell her to fuck off so he has his mom deal with it. She’s the emotional support thinker, not him.

After a couple of minutes he hears the door shut so he closes his bedroom door and sits back on his bed, the two pictures laid out on his bed as a reminder of the love for his two closest friends, but also as a reminder of the pain he feels and the tears shed over something that wasn't his fault, the blame he put on himself. He sighs sadly as he looks at them once more before he gathers them and sets them in his nightstand drawer. He tries not to look at those pictures too often, he hates how they make him feel. Any time he looks at his best friend’s photo, it fills him with overwhelming sadness, bitter and hurtful. It fills his chest and makes him feel like he’s drowning in sadness, there’s sometimes a hint of anger but that’s never at him. It’s always directed towards himself, not his friend. He could never be mad at him, he was the closest guy friend he’s had and will ever have, he won’t have another one. When he looks at hers, it used to be happiness, love and adoration but it’s turned into anger and jealousy. Her name will always leave a bitter taste in his mouth, his lips will always turn into a frown at the fleetest thought of her.

He hates her, hates how smart she is, how she’s always somehow better at everything than him even when he spent hours working on something. He loathes how she just always knows what to say. He hates how she never fell off or even wobbled off the hill she was on no matter what was going on in her life. He dislikes how much he wishes he could be like that. He abhors how much even though he wants nothing to do with her right now that he still longs to be those little kids playing together and studying and gossiping. He especially hates how deep down he hopes that she’ll wait for him or beg for him to let her in, how he actually wants her to fight for their friendship. He loathes how much he misses her.

Instead of acting on those terrible ideas in his head on rekindling their friendship, he focuses on his popularity. High school ends and during the summer he experiments with his look, becomes a ladies’ man and immerses himself in that. He enjoys sex, the feeling of it all. The intimacy of something shared between two people, the feverish kisses and the sounds of his partners enjoying themselves. It’s a very good distraction from the one person who doesn’t seem to leave his mind. His reputation as a ladies’ man and a very skilled person grows, he becomes popular not only with the ladies in school but also with the fellow jocks of the school. He dabbled a little bit in the sports aspect of his education, he also tried out for the soccer team at his school. He’s always loved the sport, even as a little boy, something about the running and kicking balls amused him. He was also a pretty fast learner which helped his case a lot, but he still passed. He dabbled in a lot of different sports, not wanting to tie himself down to just one thing which applied to multiple different areas in the boy’s life. He tried anything to rid himself of one of the two names that haunts him no matter what.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #— 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

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sujiri · 1 year ago

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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader, college!au, fluff

college student!ryomen sukuna who has a very lowkey crush on you. of course he's in denial about those feelings, thinking he's just probably bored.

college student!sukuna finding himself looking around if there is any sign of your presence. he can't even focus listening to yuuji's babbling about what to do while on their break. sukuna can't say that he has a big fat crush on you, because he doesn't. why would he say that in the first place? it's not like you're someone special.

college student!sukuna when you wouldn't even notice that he takes glances at you whenever you're talking with someone. you wouldn't even notice it, because if you did, he would just look away and make you think that it's probably nothing and messing or playing with you. probably there's something on your face, it's not like he likes you, who are you even anyway? it's not like he's interested to you.

college student!sukuna who would always notice the small details. he would practically notice the changes of your small likings, you've been wearing pink clothes? it might be your favorite color, you dislike caffeine? he wouldn't order any coffee drink or flavor for you to eat, you start wearing skirts for a while? he would even bet that you're in your period. you've been babbling about a recent book you finished reading? he would secretly read few pages to know what's keeping you hyped up. hilarious. it's not like he likes you, he's just observant.

college student!sukuna who would stay in the library for hours just to watch you studying. he would wonder why are you studying so hard, then he realize you were always second to him in class. it's not like he thinks it's cute, you're just too serious and it makes him laugh at you for trying hard. and no.. he doesn't like you, why would he? it's not like he's doing special treatments to you when he suddenly sit beside you and now he's teaching you the lesson you've been struggling for hours.

college student!sukuna who reminds mocks you that you're loosing weight, your eye bags has eye bags, complain as you slowly prepare everything. you need to eat, rest, and take your time whenever you need to. buying you some food after finding out you're staying to study. he doesn't get your stubbornness. it's not like he sees you as the smartest girl he ever met and no he doesn't like you.

college student!sukuna who glares at every guy who would stare at you so much. he hates how they can get a closer look at you and freely flirt you. he would intentionally even simply stomp on their feet or hits the drink they're holding, then saying they're on the way. it's not like he likes you, he just can't help it.

college student!sukuna who secretly starts to read poetry books just because he hears that you like men with more sense and ‘romantic’ for words. he even laughs to himself why he's doing this even though saying cheesy and corny words are not his thing. it's not like he likes you— or maybe.. likes you. just a tiny crush. (it is indeed a big fat crush and he won't confess it)

college student!sukuna who would be still so in denial that he likes you so much. he's not like that at all. if his twin, yuuji, can easily show what he loves and likes, he's the complete opposite. but that doesn't mean he'll put his chances into waste of how he values you. does he even like you? maybe.

college student!sukuna that you'll completely see the obvious things. you tried to tease that he should stop being such a lover boy. of course he would deny that cheesy and cringe word. he would call you a ‘brat’. it makes you laugh how easy to read him.

college student!sukuna who won't even realize he's staring at you while you're reading, eating, or doing the simplest things. if you ever point it out, his lips would curve into that ridiculous smirk and saying, “why? can't i enjoy a nice view?”. he likes you, that's what you thought. is that even a doubt?

college student!sukuna who once in your life seen him flustered after you kiss him on his cheek, while walking home and you and his hands are interlocked. you giggle as he clicks his tongue, saying he's not. of course he's in denial again. it's because he likes you.

#sujiri's fics #jjk fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #sukuna

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beelanddiavolosimp-blog · 7 months ago

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Time to catch up the side characters!

Side characters react to a MC with a tongue piercing

Diavolo

He honestly never noticed it about MC since he didn't look at their mouth that hard. That is until he started to develop feelings for them he kept staring at their lips and that's when he noticed it. He asks "Hey Mc what's that in your mouth?" MC looks at him confused then makes a 'oh' face and sticks out their tongue. Once he sees it he immediately blushes a bit. "Wow MC that is such a cool piercing probably one of my favorites now!" He says and suddenly cups MC's face examining it more. He eventually backs away. "I'll buy you some jewelry for it right away!" He says excited. He seems to enjoy this piercing too much....

Barb

MC revealed it to him since he personally doesn't care what they do and don't have. As long as MC is with him he's content. They were both having tea when Mc decided to show him. "Hey Barb.....I just wanted to let you know I have a secret piercing..." MC states. Barb looks at them and tilts his head a bit. MC then sticks their tongue out. He doesn't react much just amused MC was that trusting of him. "It's certainly a interesting piercing tell me how it went" he says now pushing their conversation to said piercing.

Simeon

He noticed it right away since he often looks at every detail of a person. Especially if he has a crush on them like MC. He didn't want to outright ask so he kept hinting at it. MC eventually tired of beating around the bush stuck out their tongue. His eyes widen and his cheeks turn a slight pink. "Woah.... you're so cool MC!" He says amazed. He continues to ask some questions here and there and definitely didn't forget about it.

Meso

As MC and him talked his eyes kept catching a small ball. He noticed this for weeks and did not say anything. He finally broke when none of the brothers would say anything to him when he asked. "MC do you have something in your mouth? I keep seeing a light hit a ball?" He says genuinely confused. Once MC stuck out their tongue he felt genuinely stupid. A ball? A piercing! He sighs to himself and then apologized to MC. "I'm sorry for being so invasive I was confused and apparently stupid I should've put two and two together....it does look nice though. But it's distracting!" He retorts

Raphael

He noticed of course nothing slips past him but why pry? It's MC's business not his own. He was slightly curious. Why have it? Does it do something special or something? He actually found out fully when the brothers were yapping about it. He doesn't say anything but does stare at your mouth randomly....just thinking.

Thirteen

Great minds think alike. She noticed immediately because she has an eye for those sort of things. More so to use as a way to prank people so she watches them closely. She did ask about the pain because she wants one of her own and MC and her actually bond over this fact. She really loves it and buys cute jewelry for MC and says how excited she is to match with MC one day.

Solomon

He didn't notice for a while because MC tended to keep their mouth closed around him. (Due to his cooking) He accidentally gave MC his coffee that was WAY too bitter so they stuck their tongue out in disgust which is when he notices it. He immediately smiles excited for some reason. "That piercing is so cool MC I wonder....does what you eat stay on it? Could someone else taste it when they-" MC covers his mouth. Horny bastard.

Luke

He only noticed when Mc started eating infront of him. He of course pipped up and asked the moment he saw it. "MC what is that?" He asks. MC shows him and he immediately looked terrified. "Why would you do that! Doesn't that hurt?" He asks worried for MC once they explained everything was okay he didn't feel as scared. He asked many MANY questions.

#obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me fandom #obey me x mc #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me mephistopheles #obey me 13 #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me solomon

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 8 months ago

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Wicked the movie thoughts - spoiler version

I went to see Wicked today! If you want to read a spoiler free edition of what I thought you can do that here but otherwise below the cut I am going to talk in a lot of detail about the show and share my thoughts - they're overwhelmingly positive!! I loved this movie, I love this musical, and I have a lot of thoughts to discuss, I'm welcoming conversations about things I say or about stuff I didn't say but that you want to talk about let's absolutely chat, and this is all the way through going to contain spoilers for the plot but also for specific details, scenes, acting, etc, of the new movie so be warned if you don't want to read that

First of all, the genuine love and care that was put into the show and that can be seen not only in the acting but in the set, the music, in every aspect the care and the adoration for the theatre production was so clear, it was so lovingly crafted from the word go. I also felt like not only Wicked the musical but also Oz, in the original Wizard of Oz novel, in the Wicked novel, in the world and in everything that Gregory Maguire brought to the world, and so on and so forth was being treated with such care and being genuinely revered whilst also balancing well enough that I didn't feel like I was only ever seeing rehashes of existing material or a carbon copy of the past

Even as I was watching and thinking this, and thinking how well they had captured the feeling of watching something on stage, I was still wondering how they were possibly going to execute the Emerald City and the One Short Day performance because it's so iconic and so distinct in the musical but genuinely I was so impressed with the success of that scene. It both captured the essence of One Short Day on stage and added something new to it without taking anything away from the original and they deserve so much praise for that. I'm going to talk a little bit about the nail salon scene later when I discuss propaganda in Wicked (this is gonna be a looooooong post y'all buckle up) but other than that for One Short Day I just need to address, because how could I not, IDINA MENZEL AND KRISTEN CHENOWORTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn't know they were going to be there!!!!!!!!!! I was losing my goddamn mind you guys omg

I was genuinely astonished. Like I'd seen them doing press and stuff but I assumed that was just because their names are so synonymous with Wicked I didn't realise they were actually going to be there!!

I really enjoyed the small stage production about the Wise Ones and the Grimmerie it was brilliant in concept and execution for worldbuilding and lore but KRISTEN AND IDINA OMG wonderful oh my gosh. Now was it on the nose? Absolutely. But I don't think that it felt forced, I thought that if you didn't know who they were then even when Chenoworth was singing to Grande and Menzel was singing to Eviro then it still wouldn't have felt strange or out of place, but of course I'm looking at it through the lens of a fan receiving fan service so generally speaking even though I know it's fanservice I'm still going to enjoy it and it's possible that through another's eyes it would feel different. I thought it was brilliant though and nothing will take that away from me

I think it's fair to say that the pacing of Wicked is kind of messed up and I have heard concern that because of that the act 2 movie will struggle; pacing of act 2 does get messy, but I cannot fault them in any way for splitting it into two movies ok because this was spectacular and I would not want to cut a single thing from it so yeah that's kind of all my thoughts on that point; I think that even if act 2 is harder to bring to screen that it can still be done in a high quality and successful way and especially after watching part 1 today I absolutely trust that this production can do that

I'm gonna now hop right back to No-One Mourns the Wicked (the pacing of this post is gonna be worse than the pacing of wicked). I was slightly concerned that Ariana Grande's intense recognisable-ness was going to take something away from the show because it would be hard to see the character she was playing rather than just Ariana Grande singing, if that makes sense, but from as early as No-One Mourns the Wicked my concerns were alleviated. Glinda is not an easy character to play, in my opinion, and she's not an easy character to play because she acts incredibly melodramatic in everything she does whilst her genuine emotions are incredibly subtle. What I saw in both Grande and Erivo was how fantastic their micro-expressions are and how much they can tell the audience with one or two features, often the eyes, alone. In No-One Mourns the Wicked , Galinda genuinely believes and will presumably continue to believe for the rest of her life that Elphaba is dead. And throughout her performance of the song, I more than once found it visibly notable that Glinda was on the verge of tears. She was smiling, she was singing, she was moving gracefully with her typical accentuated and dramatic movements, but the pain in her eyes was remarkable. This was a woman who believed that the only person she had ever had a genuine emotional connection with was dead, a woman who had lost not only someone she had manufactured a relationship with (Fiyero) and convinced herself that she was happy with what she knew was a false pretence of love to receive from, but also the only person in the world who had ever shown her real love and was finally being confronted by the fullest extent of the choices she had made but having to keep everything light and cheerful because of those very choices. Did that make sense? I hope I'm not just spouting nonsense. One of the most emphasised moments of this for me was when this massive effigy of Elphaba and one of the munchkinland residents hands Glinda the torch to light it; there's this blink and you miss it moment where Glinda looks at the torch, at the effigy, then back to the man who held it out to her, who's watching her expectantly, before she turns and tosses it on with a sense of urgency. Not only is this alone powerful, but I also think it's powerful that she throws the torch instead of standing at the effigy and taking care to set it alight firstly because she may not be able to bring herself to do so but also in a way that may be reflective of their relationship and the story: Glinda does not outrightly attack or harm Elphaba but she makes the choices that she makes, she throws her torch and whatever burns will burn.

I also felt that she captured the comedic elements of Glinda fantastically, with one of my favourite moments being when she melodramatically collapses kneeling in front of the bed as though she is sobbing into the quilt but just sits there perfectly still and the camera just stares at her for a few moments before she peeks up over her shoulder to see if Elphie's looking. The difference we can see between these two sides of Glinda's character was very well executed and I think we also see something of her more vulnerable side in some of these comedic moments, because ultimately she does (I'm going to talk about this later) feel unloved because of how shallow all of her relationships are and even in melodramatic, foolish or naive moments like the throwing herself on the duvet cover she is actively seeking attention because she equates attention to love - she so desperately claws her way to attention and popularity because she feels unloved and she thinks that this is love, so when it doesn't give her the feeling she was searching for she becomes convinced that it was because she doesn't have enough of it yet and she needs more. I thought that she was incredibly well captured and presented from all angles with her very many layers being well laid out.

Again with the insane jumping around but let's just dive headfirst into a couple of little details that I noticed whilst I'm thinking about them - during the Wizard and I when Elphaba is imagining her success and her dream she runs through a cornfield!! As though she is running towards Fiyero!!! I loved it. Like it's so tiny, but I love it. Another tiny one - loved the silver shoes for Nessa as a hark to the original book wherein the magic slippers were silver, but then in Popular when Glinda is going through her wardrobe and pulling out all these different options she gives Elphaba a pair of ruby red slippers and then decides against them and throws them away again!! Loved it as a teeny little reference. I also really lovedddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd and this one is more meaningful to the story but when Elphie has her magic outburst at Shiz right at the start where she sends Nessa into the air and stuff gets thrown everywhere, there's a statue on the wall of the Wizard that gets smashed. When it smashes, it's briefly visible that beneath the statue the wall was originally painted with a mural of animal scholars!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVED this detail, I was BUZZING. Like you saw it long enough to see what it was, there were three animals with a bear in the middle and I think the bear was wearing maroon robes and they were all clearly scholars

My personal theories on this is that either they were highly valued intellectual alumni of Shiz or that they founded the school, however there mya be lore standing on them that I am unaware of I started reading the book a long time ago and never finished it (I really want to read it but I haven't got around to it yet. I read enough to know what happened to Dr Dillimond in the book but I don't remember a lot after that)

Speaking of Dr Dillimond, I'm not sure if I just missed a detail or something implicit but I wasn't sure that they gave any real explanation as to why the poppies didn't knock Fiyero out????

On Fiyero: Johnathon Bailey understands Fiyero so well and it was brilliant. His performance very much took in the different layers of the character and the split between what he presents to the world and the intensity of the emotions he hides. Fiyero experiences emotion so intensely and feels such an intense response to others' emotions as well, and I think that you could really tell that whilst not feeling like anything was being taken away from the charismatic charming persona that you knew he was putting on. One of my favourite moments between him and Elphaba in this was when she siad something along the lines of 'you aren't as shallow and self-loving as I thought' and he replies something along the lines of 'how dare you? I genuinely love myself and I am deeply shallow' and I love this not only because his humour is enjoyable and his defence mechanisms are interesting but also because she immediately breaks through and says no, you're unhappy.

I promised thoughts on Dancing Through Life so whilst we're on Fiyero -> I don't at all intend to say that Bailey isn't a good singer because he is, I just thought that to some degree his voice didn't stand out from the chorus' voices in the same way that Erivo's and Grande's do and so the song did necessarily have the same bite to it as some of the others did/ That isn't to say that it wasn't a fantastic scene, because it was, and I loved the choreography and I was obsessed with the spinning bookshelves and all of it, the bringing the beat of the song in through the movement of the books was brilliant, and again he is a good singer and I think that having the actor's own voice in the movie is almost always the right decision

Okay I am going to make a post on its own about this as well because this is really long and I am so deeply obsessed with this I want to give it a chance to get proper discussion but one of my favourite propaganda-related details of this movie was Elphaba's nails. Yes, you read that right. Her nails.

In all of the imagery and posters of the 'Wicked Witch of the West' she is very often leaning forwards with her hands strangely position in the foreground and then her face behind them so your focus is drawn very quickly to the hands. In these images, her nails are always presented as extravagantly long, sharp, and claw-like. So in a world where animals are discriminated against and being used as the common enemy long before Elphaba is used as that enemy it's so fascinating that the dehumanisation of Elphaba has emphasis on her hands appearing strange or 'unnatural' and it makes me think of the line in Something Bad 'It's enough to give pause to anyone with paws' because that's where the emphasis on this distinction lies with no-one but humans having limbs that resemble hands - having Elphaba presented effectively as though she has claws in a world where animals are discriminated against and actively silenced, especially since she advocated against that silencing. And something I really enjoyed after having noticed the long nails in the posters during No-One Mourns the Wicked is that throughout the movie Elphaba has unapologetically long, beautiful nails that in a truly wonderful subtle aspect of Erivo's acting we get the sense she cares about even though they are never discussed. When she and Glinda go to the Emerald City we see this montage of their day during One Short Day and one of the things they do is go to a nail salon and we see Elphaba excitedly showing off to Glinda her long pretty nails that she loves so much and that make her feel pretty. Again this is such a massive testament to Erivo's acting skills because there's no dialogue about it but we know that she is so excited and we know that this is one of very few times that Elphie has felt pretty, she loves her nails. And they get used so horrifyingly against her. The nail salon is such a brief, subtle moment but it's so very well executed. There's also an earlier scene where she's alone with Madame Morrible practicing magic and when she reaches out to make the hand movements the camera cuts to show the shadow of her hand and it creates this emphasis on the length of her nails and how because of the shape of her hand midway through the movement the image looks like a claw or like a very stereotypical evil witch hands sort of thing. I also think that this moment is particularly powerful bc she's alone with Morrible and everything that Elphie does under Morrible's instruction is perfectly natural but what is seen on Morrible's stationary on the desk below her is representative of the propaganda that Morrible will turn the actions that she forced Elphaba to do into.

Also more propaganda stuff I could talk about the use of the word 'witch' for all goddamn eternity so I'm not going to hark on about it now but I will say that a piece of media like this one cannot be created today without acknowledgemnt of the difference between the word 'wtich' and the word 'wizard' and how they are presented, and I think that this was really interestingly handled in the word 'witch' not being said in the prequel aspect of it until Morrible labels her 'this Wicked Witch'.

Okay I think this is going to be what I finish off with but if you know this account you know that I LOVE a parallel and I was obsessed with the parallel drawn between family dynamics in Elphie's relationship with Nessa and her father, and then with the family that she's looking for and briefly thinks she could find with Morrible, the wizard, and Glinda. Yeoh said in an interview that Morrible's betrayal is realising that the mother figure isn't who you thought she was. Madame Morrible becomes Elphaba's maternal figure, and to her living memory realistically her only maternal figure, from very early on and this maternal view of her that we have through Elphaba's eyes is very much existent by the time we reach Sentimental Man, wherein the idea of the Wizard being able to offer her some kind of paternal love, that she has never felt because her relationship with her father is so fraught, is brought forth. Sentimental Man was very well performed in my opinion, it was the right decision to keep it low and subtle and close because it created this very specific closeness between Elphie and the Wizard and we felt what she felt, which was the exact manipulation that the Wizard wanted her to feel. When Madame Morrible enters the scene we then have both of these parental-style figures present telling Elphaba how precious she is, how amazing she is, how much they believe in her - essentially all these different things that she has been denied her entire life. What I find particularly fascinating about this is that what gets created here is exactly Elphaba's existing family dynamic - because Glinda is there too. This is what Elphaba always wanted - a motherly figure, a fatherly figure, and a sisterly figure - but it still comes at the expense of the sister. Glinda is being actively diminished and put down whilst Elphaba is raised and complimented for the purpose of manipulation and to be used for their purposes rather than existing for herself, just as her father diminishes and hurts her whilst complimenting and idolising Nessa but also manipulating her & never allowing her to live her own life. There's a moment where they're all stood around the grimmerie to get the four of them in shot with Elphie looking over the book, Morrible encouragingly at her side, the Wizard watching on from behind, and Glinda leaning over Elphie's other side to try and squeeze herself into the picture and I think that this still alone captures the entire thing so very well.

In a way, this is why Glinda turned round - without Elphie there, she gets love. When Elphaba had parental figures over her and no Nessa present to be better than her, she felt loved; when Glinda has parental figures over her and no Elphaba present to be better than her, she feels loved. The fundamental difference between them in the moment of choice is arguably that Elphaba's love for others, primarily Nessa, will always be stronger than her need for love from others, whereas Glinda's need for love from others will always be stronger than her love for others, primarily Elphaba.

In this moment, Glinda's warped distinction between love and popularity, as I discussed it earlier, is finally put to direct test and even though she loves Elphie and is loved by her in a way that she has arguably never been loved (we saw just how shallow her relationship with her parents was upon the arrival at Shiz. It's as shallow as her friendships at Shiz and romance with Fiyero.) she chooses popularity because she has somehow convinced herself that superficial love from many is better than genuine love from few. Elphaba's love for Glinda is probably the most genuine affection she's experienced in her entire life - but it doesn't come from authority. Elphaba's love isn't coming from someone who can raise Glina up or give her advantages and ultimately she is always seeking the approval of authority, possibly because she felt like she never received it from the authority that was her parents when she was a child, and she finds that feeling in Morrible and the Wizard, and arguably in the power that Fiyero's family could give her as well.

Okay super quick additions that i just remembered:

I loved loved loved the addition of her falling from the palace and seeing young Elphaba in the reflection and once again so freaking much could be said about the strength of Erivo's acting here it was truly beautiful and I found it like genuinely nerve-wracking even though I knew she obvs had to make it and the song wasn't over yk but yeah it was fantastic

When Elphaba's running from the soldiers & the flying monkeys just after the monkeys have been told to attack her and Glinda is chasing after her. They go through a narrow corridor of the palace lined by windows, and the wall are made of green brick. The sunset beyond casts pink light through every window. Every window is pink, all the walls are green. Elphaba is running and Glinda is following, trying to tell her to come back to the Wizard. As they run the flying monkeys start smashing the windows, so for every pace that they take THE PINK SHATTERS AND ONLY THE GREEN IS LEFT BEHIND. They are running towards Defying Gravity and for every step closer to it they become the less intertwined the colours are. The pink shatters and the green is left behind. It was visual poetry.

Okay I hope that this insane rambling made sense, I was partially transcribing this from voicenotes I sent to my friends when I got back after the movie and they actually got more than this so apologies to them and thank you for indulging me, and thank you to anyone who has bothered to read this lol I hope it was interesting - overall, excellent movie and I loved it!! Already can't wait for part 2

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fairestbeard · 1 month ago

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Claire's bullet.

Why does Claire wear a bullet pendant? It's one really strange and mysterious detail in the show. What does it mean?

Life as Carmy knew it was ended by a bullet. His brother shot himself and that's how Carmy got to his present life. So it seems a little strange and jarring that his supposed significant other would be carrying a bullet around as an ornament. I'm not even trying to put out a theory in this post. I just want to observe the phenomenon.

What practical reasons might she have to be wearing a bullet?

She's an emergency doctor, so she might have saved someone with a bullet wound? I'm not sure what a used bullet looks like but it's very possible that she successfully extracted a bullet and made it or was gifted it as a keepsake or something else equally nice and heroic.

In line with previous theories, though, it could take on a different meaning. It definitely does feel ominous if you view it through a magical realism lens. Let's also consider the theory that the way the characters present themselves is influenced by Carmy's mind. It then means Carmy put that bullet there. But what's the significance of seeing her that way?

While trying to confirm if it really was a bullet (after someone mentioned it on Tumblr) I noticed that there was a little disappearing act going on in the initial meeting between Carmy and Claire. The bullet appears twice on her and disappears for the rest of the scene, like a spot the difference exercise.

1) Claire calls to Carmy, she's shown through the glass fridge door without a bullet.

2) Carmy closes the door and faces her, she's shown with a bullet.

3) Cuts to Carmy taking a second to remember her name. Cuts back to Claire, no bullet.

4) Cuts to Carmy saying it's been forever. Cuts back to Claire agreeing and asking about the veal stock, with the bullet.

After this in all subsequent shots, the bullet doesn't appear anymore.

Because I think everything is intentional, of course, I had to find some way to link it somewhere.

Remember the drive-by shooting scene in Ceres, with the shooter shooting two holes into The Beef glass (more than two hits was heard but only two holes were showed)? The shooting remained a mystery and was never resolved. Nat also accused Carmy of not processing trauma after the shooting for his refusal to deal with it the right way and acting like nothing happened.

Both episodes, Ceres and Pasta, was when the main subject of conflict got introduced as well. In S1, it was Syd's ambitious risotto, in S2 it is Carmy's flakiness. Also, the "unintentional" target during the drive-by shooting was Sydney and Richie. Coincidentally, the end result of Carmy's affair with Claire is a break down in his relationship with Sydney and Richie.

Is the bullet showing us that Claire is the new target of Carmy's unresolved trauma or is it telling us that she is a manifestation of Carmy's unresolved trauma, or even both? Is she the window, or is she the smoking bullet?

#the bear #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #the bear meta #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney x carmy #syd x carmy #claire bear

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theangelsheardyou · 6 months ago

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Everybody talks abt the bakugous adopting toga, now get ready for: the togas adopt bakugou

They adopt him when he's around 5 years old, after an accident with his Quirk awakening heavily injures his mother, putting her in a medically-induced coma. His father isn't capable of taking care of a child after that, and katsuki is sent into foster care. Part of him has given up on the idea that his dad would ever take him back, but the other part is clinging onto the hope that his mother would wake up and find him. Wherever he is.

The Toga's foster Katsuki for a few months initially, which turns into a full year. Himiko, about 6 years old, likes the idea of having a new little brother.

(I've heard theories before that Himiko already had some other unnamed siblings since she's described as "the oldest daughter of the family" but to keep things simple let's just say she was an only child up until this point.)

(Also, I don't know whether this is canon or not, but while Himiko is her first name, we aren't sure if Toga is her real last name. But again, to keep things simple, let's just say that it is.)

Katsuki was a tough nut to crack, or maybe he would be if his foster parents ever really tried. From what we see in Toga's backstory, I assume they're not really there for their kids emotionally. As long as they eat three meals a day and have a roof over their heads, they've done their jobs, or at least that's what they think.

Katsuki and Himiko are left alone a lot. Maybe their folks are always busy at work or just didn't spend much time with them. Either way, the two become closer as the only kids in the house.

Now, canon Katsuki would probably be really judgemental about Himiko's gorey interests, but in this AU, he has literally almost killed his mother. He's in no place to judge and he knows that. No matter what crazy infatuation this girl has, it's got nothing compared to what was practically a murder.

Katsuki's a little more closed off at this age, kind of like in the canon storyline, but at age 5-6. Having lost his parents, his friends, and being put in some stranger's home, he's not the type to really show off anymore. He's hard to get to know, but Himiko never stops trying.

Despite everything, a bond begins to bloom.

Katsuki and Himiko are inseparable. They do little kid things like Katsuki going "watch this!" Before doing something cool and making sure his sister gets to watch, and Himiko cheers him on like he's just done the most amazing thing in the world. And to her, it probably was.

This is where Katsuki's show-offiness begins to bloom again. He loves showing his sister all his achievements. A perfect score on a test, an award from the sports festival at school, no matter how big or small he shows it to his sister who always cheers him on and encourages him to keep going. He works hard to get better at school, does well in sports, all to get his sister's attention, which she gives generously. She loves watching her little brother succeed in everything. Everyday she's so, so proud of him for something new. She's proud to call him her brother.

Katsuki's personality rubs off on Himiko, too. She starts to get a little competitive, especially when the two play against each other. Be it badminton, tennis, or even just a game of tag, these two are unstoppable. And there's never a sore loser because one will always be proud of the other no matter what the scores are.

Himiko also rubs off on Katsuki, more than she'd like to admit.

I don't think canon katsuki was ever the type to be grossed out or queasy about gorey things. He'd probably find dead animals on the side of the road and call his sister so she could check it out too. As they get older, he brings along a camera, so he can take pictures of all the bloody details for her to examine later. By now Katsuki has been legally adopted, though there still isn't much of a bond between him and his new parents. They are proud of his achievements of course, but they prefer to show him off at parties like a showdog. He prefers Himiko's way of showing her pride in him way more. It feels more genuine.

Katsuki and Himiko aren't exactly delinquents, but they do get into trouble a lot. Katsuki has grown to be a little more violent due to Himiko's influence, enjoying seeing the blood burst from someone's face when it comes in contact with his fist. After he beats someone up, he likes to take a moment to examine his handiwork. A broken nose, a black eye, a tooth landing somewhere, he finds joy in it. He's definitely more of a bully in this AU, not out of anger, but out of pure bloodlust.

At this point he hasn't heard much from his dad, but he visits his mom at the hospital now and then. He gives her updates on his new life, tells her about Himiko, and all his achievements. Part of him doesn't really think she'll ever wake up again. But another still clings onto the hope.

Katsuki and Himiko are middleschool outcasts. Weirdos. Freaks. They don't have many friends, but they have each other, and that's what counts.

Katsuki is still very into heroes, but he let go of the idea of ever becoming one. The shame from his Quirk awakening has left him afraid to use his own Quirk for almost ten years now. It's Himiko that encourages him to use it, calling it a beautiful ability that should be shared. It takes a while, but by graduation, Katsuki is dead set on becoming a hero. Not for money or fame, but for his sister.

Katsuki has also been very supportive of Himiko's interests from the beginning. In fact, he encourages her to become a nurse. After middle school she starts studying medicine, and by the time Katsuki's at UA, guess who's Recovery Girl's cute little sidekick/apprentice.

Himiko gets a front-row seat to all of Katsuki's high school achievements. She cheers him on from the sidelines as he wins the UA Sports Festival, while also treating all the poor souls who fought against him. This is actually how she meets Ochaco. A real meet cute.

She gets angry at how the awards ceremony went, and even got Recovery Girl to use her status at the school to speak to the teachers on her behalf. She's still pretty ticked off by the time they get home, and tells Katsuki to throw the medal away, but he doesn't. He keeps it in his room. It's a symbol of the first time in his life that someone aside from his sister acknowledged his abilities, his Quirk, as a good thing. Aizawa's speech during his fight with Ochaco was proof. After that, he follows his teacher around like a lost puppy, and in turn Himiko does, too. Now he's got two little blonde kids tailing him, and he just gets used to it at some point.

Katsuki's personality is a lot less angry and more a...weird kind of friendly. He got like, half a cup of bimbo-ness from Himiko, as well as a couple of her more tame friendly influences. But he does sometimes get a little too close, and asks questions very bluntly, sometimes offending or making people uncomfortable. But considering 1-A is just a mosh pit of weirdo high school kids, they all get along just fine.

Katsuki and Izuku reunite at UA. It was actually Izuku who approached him. Having missed all the middle school bullying since Katsuki was in another school at the time, the same one Himiko went to, he's a lot more confident. The two have a grand reunion and become better than best friends. They, along with Himiko and Ochaco, hang out together a lot in and out of school. It gets to the point that Ochaco gets a little too happy when she gets injured, knowing she'll get a free pass to visit the cute nurse at the infirmary. Izuku gets to join Himiko on the front row to all of Katsuki's victories, which assigns him as Vice President of the Katsuki Fan Club instantly.

I have so many more ideas for them and I kinda wanna draw/write more about it, so tell me what you think! If this gets very little attention my shyness and short attention span will probably shift me to something else😅

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novaursa · 7 months ago

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The Second Daughter (by his side)

- Summary: You were born as a second daughter under the watchful eye of a full moon. And just like the moon you were beautiful—and cursed to exist only in the dark.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannsiter

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: hope

- Next part: what we were

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @l3thal-l0lita @ninihrtss @barnes70stark

The vast halls of Casterly Rock hummed with activity. Servants rushed to and fro, polishing every surface until it gleamed and arranging tapestries that had been freshly cleaned to ensure not a speck of dust lingered. The smell of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchens, and the air buzzed with anticipation as the Lannister household prepared to host the King and his family.

Jason Lannister stood in the great hall, his green eyes scanning every detail with a critical gaze. He ran a hand over the edge of the grand table, ensuring it was free of imperfections. The arrangements were nearly perfect, yet he felt the need to double-check every corner of his domain.

Behind him, the familiar sound of Tyland’s boots echoed against the stone floor. “Brother,” Tyland said, his tone light with amusement, “you’re pacing like a caged lion. I’ve never seen you so intent on perfection. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Jason straightened, turning to face his younger twin with a raised brow. “If the King is to visit Casterly Rock, then everything must be as it should be.”

Tyland smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against a pillar. “Ah, yes, the King,” he said, drawing out the words with a teasing lilt. “And, of course, his daughter. Don’t tell me all this fuss has nothing to do with her.”

Jason’s expression tightened, though he refused to rise to the bait. “This visit is an honor for our house,” he replied evenly. “I would ensure it reflects that.”

Tyland chuckled, clearly unconvinced. “Come now, Jason. You’re overseeing every detail as if your life depends on it. You and I both know she won’t see the tapestries or the polished floors, no matter how much effort you put into them.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he said nothing. Finally, he turned to face his brother fully, his voice low but steady. “You don’t understand what this means, Tyland. She may not see the hall or the gold we polish, but she will feel the care that went into it. She’ll know it was done with intention, for her family and for her.”

Tyland’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more thoughtful. “You’ve truly fallen for her, haven’t you?” he asked, his tone quieter now.

Jason exhaled sharply, his green eyes narrowing as he turned back to inspect the hall. “What I feel doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “Not in the way you think. This is about respect. About showing her, and her family, that Casterly Rock is more than stone and gold.”

Tyland’s brow furrowed as he studied his brother. “You speak as if she’s already agreed to something.”

“She hasn’t,” Jason admitted, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “And perhaps she never will. But if she sets foot in this hall, she’ll know that I care. That I see her for who she is, not for what others might dismiss.”

Tyland was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Jason’s face. Finally, he sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ve always been the stubborn one, Jason,” he said. “But I suppose that’s why you’ve always been the better twin.”

Jason allowed himself a faint smile, though he didn’t look at his brother. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Tyland.”

“No, but truth does,” Tyland replied, pushing off the pillar. “If you’re going to win more of her favor, then at least make sure the wine is good. It’s the one thing the King and his daughter will both appreciate.”

Jason chuckled softly, shaking his head as Tyland walked away. For all his brother’s teasing, there was a kernel of truth in his words. This visit wasn’t just about hospitality—it was about showing you the depth of his feelings in a way words could not.

He turned his attention back to the preparations, his resolve firm. The great hall would be ready. The feast would be flawless. And when you arrived, Jason vowed, you would know that Casterly Rock had been made ready not just for the King, but for you.

The light of late afternoon bathed the towering walls of Casterly Rock as a faint horn sounded from the outer gate. The sound was quickly followed by the rapid approach of hoofbeats echoing through the vast courtyards. Servants paused in their duties, their heads turning toward the commotion, while Jason Lannister, standing on the balcony overlooking the main courtyard, narrowed his eyes at the approaching rider.

The gates swung open, revealing a single horseman clad in the royal colors of House Targaryen—black and red. The messenger’s tunic bore the unmistakable three-headed dragon, and the rider sat tall and proud in his saddle. Dust kicked up from the well-trodden path as the man slowed his steed and came to a stop at the center of the courtyard.

Jason descended the stone steps with purposeful strides, his crimson-and-gold cloak billowing behind him. Tyland followed at a more leisurely pace, his smirk ever-present as he observed the unfolding scene.

The messenger dismounted swiftly, bowing deeply as Jason approached. “Lord Jason Lannister,” the man said, his voice clear and formal. “I bring word from His Grace, King Viserys I Targaryen.”

Jason inclined his head, his expression calm but attentive. “Speak,” he commanded, his voice carrying the authority of the Lord of Casterly Rock.

The messenger straightened, producing a scroll sealed with the royal crest. “His Grace wishes to inform you that the royal procession will arrive at Casterly Rock within three days’ time. The King, along with his family and retinue, eagerly anticipates your hospitality.”

Jason took the scroll, breaking the seal with a deliberate motion. His green eyes studied the neatly written script, though his features betrayed no emotion. When he finished, he nodded and handed the parchment to one of his attendants.

“You have ridden far,” Jason said, his tone even. “See that this man is provided with food and rest,” he instructed his steward. Turning back to the messenger, he added, “Convey to His Grace that Casterly Rock stands ready to receive him.”

The messenger bowed again. “I shall return to the royal party with your reply, my lord.”

Before the rider had his horse taken by a servant, Tyland stepped forward, his ever-present grin widening. “Three days,” he said, addressing his brother. “That leaves just enough time to polish the gold one more time, doesn’t it?”

Jason shot him a sidelong glance. “If you have nothing useful to say, Tyland, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

Tyland laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Oh, come now, Jason. Don’t tell me you’re not excited. The King himself, under your roof. And of course… her.”

Jason’s gaze sharpened, but he chose not to rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back toward the Keep, his mind already racing through the final preparations.

“Ensure that every detail is seen to,” Jason ordered the steward at his side. “The feast, the accommodations, the stables—everything must be perfect.”

The steward nodded, hastening to relay the orders to the household staff. Tyland watched with a bemused expression, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against a pillar.

“You’re relentless,” Tyland said, his tone teasing. “But I’ll admit, I’ve never seen you like this before. Perhaps the Targaryens truly have worked some magic on you.”

Jason ignored him, his focus unwavering. “The King and his family deserve nothing less than our finest.”

“And the Princess?” Tyland pressed, his voice dropping slightly. “What does she deserve?”

Jason paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to face his brother. “She deserves to see—no, to feel—that this is a place where she could belong.”

Tyland’s smirk softened, though his tone remained light. “Well, let’s hope she feels it, then. Otherwise, all this effort will be wasted.”

Jason said nothing, his gaze drifting toward the horizon as the sun began to set. The arrival of the royal procession was imminent, and with it, the chance to prove that Casterly Rock could be more than just a fortress. It could be a home. For her.

Jason lingered for a moment longer, the weight of his own hopes pressing against his chest. Three days. That was all the time he had to ensure that everything was perfect.

The royal carriage swayed gently as it rolled along the winding road toward Casterly Rock. Inside, the air was filled with the hushed giggles of your ladies-in-waiting, who sat in pairs along the cushioned benches, their excitement palpable. Beside you, Rhaenyra sat stiffly, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed firmly on the passing landscape. The stiffness in her posture was unmistakable, an obvious contrast to the lighthearted chatter that filled the space.

Across from you, Septa Rhaedis sat with her hands folded in her lap, her expression serene but watchful. Every so often, she cast a glance toward Rhaenyra, her brow furrowing slightly at the Princess of Dragonstone’s obvious displeasure.

One of your ladies leaned closer to her companion, whispering with an eagerness that was impossible to ignore. “I’ve heard the Rock’s great hall is so vast it could fit an entire dragon,” she said, her voice barely containing her excitement.

“And they say the gold mines are endless,” another chimed in. “The wealth of House Lannister is unmatched.”

Their whispers turned into quiet laughter, but Rhaenyra’s mood did not lighten. You turned your face slightly toward her, sensing the storm that had been brewing within her since the trip began.

“Sister,” you said softly, your voice gentle but firm enough to catch her attention. “You’ve been brooding since we left the capital. What troubles you so?”

Rhaenyra glanced at you, her violet eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s nothing,” she replied curtly, though her tone suggested otherwise.

You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “You forget, Rhaenyra, that I know you better than most. ‘Nothing’ does not sit so heavily on your shoulders.”

Septa Rhaedis looked between the two of you, her expression unreadable, while your ladies fell silent, their curiosity piqued by the exchange.

Rhaenyra sighed, uncrossing her arms and leaning back against the cushioned seat. “It’s this whole trip,” she admitted finally, her voice laced with frustration. “Father’s insistence on visiting Casterly Rock—what purpose does it serve? He panders to Jason Lannister as if his attention is some great prize.”

You frowned slightly, your tone calm as you replied, “The King’s visit is a gesture of goodwill, Rhaenyra. Strengthening alliances benefits us all.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze sharpened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “And yet it seems less about alliances and more about… other intentions.”

You hesitated, sensing the weight of her unspoken words. “You mean Jason,” you said quietly.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, the tension in her posture returning. “He has no interest in alliances,” she muttered. “His ambitions are clear. He failed with me, so now he turns his attention to you.”

A soft murmur rippled through your ladies, but you silenced them with a slight raise of your hand. “And if he does?” you asked, your tone measured. “If his attentions are genuine, does that offend you so deeply?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes snapped back to yours, a mixture of disbelief and irritation flashing across her face. “You’re too trusting, Y/N,” she said, her voice sharper now. “Jason Lannister is a man of ambition, not sincerity. He sees you as a way to regain favor, nothing more.”

You felt a flicker of irritation at her words but kept your composure. “And you believe I cannot discern that for myself?” you asked, your voice calm but firm. “I may not see the way you do, Rhaenyra, but I am not blind to people’s intentions.”

Rhaenyra exhaled sharply, her frustration spilling over. “You’re too kind, too gentle. It’s easy for men like Jason to take advantage of that.”

Your smile was faint but unwavering as you replied, “Perhaps. But it is my choice to make, not yours.”

The tension between you lingered for a moment before Septa Rhaedis cleared her throat softly, drawing both your attentions. “Your Grace, Princess Y/N,” she said, her tone even. “Might I remind you that unity within the family is paramount, especially on such a journey as this?”

Rhaenyra glanced at the Septa, her expression softening slightly. “You’re right,” she said reluctantly, though her tone still carried a note of irritation. She turned back to you, her gaze steady but less sharp. “I only worry for you, Y/N. You’re my sister. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

You nodded slightly, your voice gentle. “And I appreciate that, Rhaenyra. But please, trust me to navigate this in my own way.”

Rhaenyra sighed again, leaning her head back against the seat as the carriage swayed gently beneath you. “You’ve always had a way of calming storms,” she muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Even when I don’t want you to.”

Your ladies giggled softly at her words, the anxiety in the carriage easing slightly as the conversation shifted. Outside, the rolling hills of the Westerlands gave way to the towering cliffs that marked the approach to Casterly Rock. Despite Rhaenyra’s reservations, the grandeur of the Rock loomed ahead, a symbol of the strength and wealth that awaited your family’s arrival.

The great courtyard of Casterly Rock bustled with life as the royal procession arrived, the sound of horses’ hooves and the clatter of wheels echoing off the high stone walls. Banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen and House Lannister fluttered in the brisk wind, and a sea of retainers, guards, and servants stood in perfect formation, awaiting the arrival of their esteemed guests.

At the head of the welcoming party stood Jason Lannister, resplendent in Lannister colors, the sun catching on the gilded lion embroidered on his doublet. His eyes were focused on the procession intently, though his face remained calm and composed. Behind him stood his family and bannermen, their presence as commanding as the Rock itself. Lady Leonella Lannister was there, her posture regal, her gaze sharp as she watched the carriages approach. Tyland stood beside her, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying his amusement at his brother’s unusually focused demeanor.

The first carriage, ornately adorned in black and red, rolled to a halt, and a steward rushed to open the door. From within emerged King Viserys I Targaryen, his presence as commanding as ever despite the slight weariness in his frame. Queen Alicent followed, her elegance unmarred by the long journey, with the young Princes Aegon and Aemond and Princess Helaena trailing behind them. The King’s gaze swept over the assembled Lannisters, a warm smile breaking across his face.

“Lord Jason,” Viserys said, his voice booming despite the years weighing on him. “It is good to see Casterly Rock as grand as I remember it.”

Jason stepped forward, bowing deeply. “Your Grace,” he said smoothly, “the honor is ours to host you and your family. Casterly Rock stands ready to serve the crown.”

Viserys inclined his head in acknowledgment, stepping aside as the second carriage arrived. Jason’s composure wavered slightly, though he quickly steadied himself as the door to the second carriage opened.

Rhaenyra was the first to step out, her eyes scanning the crowd with practiced ease. Her expression was carefully neutral, though those who knew her could sense the strain beneath her poised exterior. Behind her, the ladies-in-waiting descended gracefully, their whispers and giggles hushed in the grandeur of the moment.

Finally, Septa Rhaedis emerged, her hand extended to assist the last occupant. You stepped out slowly, your movements measured as you adjusted to the firm stone beneath your feet. Your pale hair was intricately braided, and your silver-and-black gown seemed to shimmer as the sunlight caught its threads. The quiet murmur of the gathered crowd grew softer, a ripple of curiosity and admiration passing through them as Ser Lorent Marbrand stepped forward to guide you.

Jason’s eyes softened as they fell upon you, his earlier composure replaced by something warmer, more personal. As you were led forward, it was clear to all that his attention was entirely on you.

When you reached him, Jason inclined his head deeply, his voice softer than before. “Your Grace,” he said, his tone carrying an edge of reverence. “Welcome to Casterly Rock.”

You offered a faint smile, your voice calm but kind. “Thank you, Lord Jason. It is a pleasure to be here.”

Jason hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “If it pleases you, Your Grace,” he said carefully, “may I have the honor of escorting you inside?”

The question caused a stir among the onlookers, but Jason paid them no mind. His eyes remained fixed on you, awaiting your response.

You tilted your head slightly, your expression thoughtful. After a moment, you nodded, extending your hand toward him. “That would please me greatly, my lord.”

Jason stepped forward, gently taking your hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. The warmth of his presence was steadying, and as he guided you toward the entrance, his movements were careful and deliberate, ensuring each step was smooth and unhurried.

Behind you, Ser Lorent followed at a respectful distance, his ever-watchful gaze taking in every detail. The procession of Lannisters and Targaryens moved toward the grand doors of the Rock, the weight of tradition and expectation heavy in the air.

As Jason led you up the wide stone steps, he glanced down at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope the journey was not too arduous, Your Grace.”

“It was long,” you admitted, your tone light, “but it has brought me here. That is all that matters.”

Jason smiled faintly, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “Then I shall do everything in my power to ensure your stay is worth the journey.”

The weight of his words lingered as you entered the great hall, the grandeur of Casterly Rock spreading out before you. Though the eyes of the court were still upon you, the quiet connection between you and Jason was undeniable, a thread woven amidst the stone of the Rock.

Jason’s arm was steady beneath your hand, his stride deliberate as he guided you through the towering entrance of Casterly Rock. The air inside was cooler, carrying the faint scent of polished wood, stone, and the unmistakable trace of sandalwood—an aroma you now associated solely with him. It lingered softly, comforting yet distinct, and you found yourself unconsciously relaxing as he led you forward.

His grip on your hand, resting lightly on his arm, was firm yet gentle. As the procession moved into the great hall, you noticed a subtle motion—his fingers brushing against yours in a deliberate yet discreet gesture. It was as if he was grounding you, a silent reassurance in the midst of the grandeur and noise.

“You’ve brought us into a magnificent place,” you said softly, breaking the quiet between you. The gentle hum of conversations behind you—the King and Queen’s voices mingling with their children’s laughter—barely reached your ears. “The halls feel as though they carry centuries of strength.”

Jason’s green eyes flickered toward you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he replied, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “It is magnificent,” he admitted. “But today, it feels even more so for having you within its walls.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, though you maintained your composure. “You flatter me, Lord Jason,” you said, though your tone was light, almost teasing.

“Not nearly enough,” he countered without hesitation, his voice carrying a sincerity that startled you. “When the King agreed to this visit, I feared it might never come to pass. Yet here you are. I cannot tell you how much it means to me.”

You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight of his words. “You have wanted this moment for some time, then?”

“Longer than I care to admit,” Jason confessed, his tone softer now. “Hosting your family—hosting you—has been a hope of mine since… well, since our first meeting.” His hand shifted slightly beneath yours, his fingers brushing over yours once more. “I wanted to show you this place. To make you feel welcome here.”

You considered his words carefully, your voice steady as you replied. “You’ve done much already, Lord Jason. The care and preparation are clear. My father speaks highly of your house, and I… I can feel its grandeur in every step we take.”

Jason’s lips quirked into a small smile, his gaze flicking toward the high arches of the great hall as he guided you further inside. “I wanted this place to feel as though it could belong to you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even if only for a time.”

The subtle shift in his tone did not escape you, and though the gravity of his words lingered, you chose to focus on the present. “It already feels welcoming, Lord Jason,” you said gently. “You’ve succeeded in that much.”

As you spoke, the procession came to a halt, the King’s voice rising jovially as he greeted members of House Lannister who had gathered to receive him. Jason paused, his attention momentarily pulled toward his family, but his focus quickly returned to you.

“Shall I guide you further, or would you prefer to rest for now?” he asked, his tone thoughtful.

You smiled faintly, tilting your head toward him. “You’ve been a most gracious escort, Lord Jason. But I believe I should join my family for now. There will be time to explore later.”

Jason inclined his head, though his grip on your hand lingered for a moment longer before he released you. “Of course, Your Grace,” he said, his tone warm. “But know that if you ever need a guide, I am at your service.”

You nodded, your voice soft as you replied, “Thank you, Lord Jason. Your kindness does not go unnoticed.”

As he stepped back, allowing Ser Lorent to return to your side, you couldn’t help but notice the faint brush of his fingers against yours one last time—a gesture that spoke of connection, even as he returned to his duties. The scent of sandalwood lingered as he moved away, a reminder of his presence even amidst the grandeur of Casterly Rock.

The grand hall of Casterly Rock was filled with the sounds of courtiers mingling and retainers bustling to accommodate their royal guests. The King, seated with Queen Alicent at a prominent table near the hall’s center, appeared jubilant, his laughter echoing against the high stone walls. He clutched a goblet of wine, already half-emptied, as Lady Leonella Lannister stood nearby, engaging him in a conversation marked by her poised elegance.

Jason approached his mother and the King with measured strides, his green eyes flickering briefly toward you across the hall. You had rejoined Rhaenyra, her sharp features softening slightly as you exchanged quiet words. Even from a distance, Jason’s gaze lingered, tracing the gentle movements of your hands as you spoke. His mother noticed, of course, though she kept her expression neutral as he joined her side.

“Ah, Lord Jason!” King Viserys called warmly, raising his goblet in greeting. “It is good to see you here among us. Casterly Rock is as grand as ever, and your hospitality does House Lannister great credit.”

Jason bowed slightly, his expression respectful but relaxed. “Your Grace honors me,” he replied smoothly. “We are delighted to host you and your family. It is a privilege to welcome the King and his kin.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively, though his grin remained wide. “Nonsense, nonsense. It is we who are privileged to enjoy such a fine reception. My daughters seem especially pleased.” His gaze flicked toward you and Rhaenyra, his eyes gleaming with warmth as he observed your quiet interaction. “Y/N looks at ease here.”

Jason followed the King’s gaze, his expression softening as he watched you smile faintly at something Rhaenyra said. His mother, ever perceptive, noted the way her son’s attention lingered and arched a delicate brow, though she said nothing.

Viserys turned back to Jason, his jovial tone continuing. “You seem to be looking her way quite often, Lord Jason. Something on your mind?”

Jason hesitated for the briefest moment before speaking, his voice even but laced with sincerity. “Your Grace, if I may—do I still have your permission to court your daughter?”

The question, though carefully worded, carried a weight that silenced the surrounding conversations for a moment. Queen Alicent’s gaze snapped to Jason, her expression betraying surprise, while Lady Leonella’s lips curved into a small but knowing smile. Viserys, meanwhile, regarded Jason with an unreadable expression, his goblet lowering slightly as he considered the request.

“You are bold, Lord Jason,” Viserys said finally, his tone less jovial but not unkind. “It is no secret that you have shown interest in my younger daughter.”

Jason inclined his head respectfully. “I have, Your Grace. And that interest has only grown since I’ve had the honor of knowing her. Princess Y/N is… extraordinary. I would like the chance to show her the sincerity of my intentions.”

Viserys leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze turning thoughtful as he stroked his beard. “She is indeed extraordinary,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. After a moment, he glanced toward Alicent, whose expression remained carefully neutral, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

“Your Grace,” Jason continued, his tone steady, “I understand the delicacy of this matter, and I assure you, my intentions are honorable. If the Princess will have me, I would be honored to court her.”

Viserys studied him for a moment longer before his expression softened. “You’ve not wavered in your pursuit, Lord Jason,” he said with a faint smile. “And I cannot fault you for admiring Y/N. She deserves to be admired—and cherished.”

The King’s gaze shifted toward you once more, his expression tinged with fondness as he watched you speak to Rhaenyra, your gestures measured and graceful. “If my daughter is willing, then I will continue not stand in your way. But know this, Lord Jason,” he added, his tone firm, “Y/N’s happiness is paramount. If I sense any less than the utmost sincerity, this will end.”

Jason nodded solemnly, his voice steady as he replied, “You have my word, Your Grace. Her happiness is my highest priority.”

Viserys chuckled, though his eyes remained sharp. “We shall see, Lord Jason. We shall see.” With that, he raised his goblet once more, the moment of gravity dissipating into the warmth of his earlier mood.

Lady Leonella’s gaze lingered on her son, her expression a mixture of pride and intrigue. “Well,” she said softly, her voice just for Jason, “it seems your persistence has paid off—for now.”

Jason allowed himself a faint smile, his green eyes returning to you across the hall. “It’s not persistence, Mother,” he murmured. “It’s purpose.”

As the King turned his attention back to his wine and conversation, Jason stood quietly beside his mother, his mind already planning how to make the most of the opportunity he had been granted.

The vast great hall of Casterly Rock was alive with activity, a tapestry of motion and sound as lords and ladies mingled beneath the towering arches of polished stone. Golden sconces lined the walls, casting a warm glow that reflected off the intricate tapestries and the Lannister sigils woven into the rugs. The scent of roasted meats and fragrant herbs wafted from the kitchens, mingling with the faint tang of wine that filled the air.

You sat beside Rhaenyra at one of the long tables, your posture serene as you listened to the hushed giggles of your ladies-in-waiting. Their excitement over the grandeur of the Rock was evident, their chatter weaving a melody of admiration and awe. Despite the noise around her, Rhaenyra sat stiffly, her eyes darting across the hall with a mixture of irritation and wariness.

“He thinks himself clever,” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath, her tone bitting as she glanced toward Jason Lannister. “Stealing glances as if no one notices. It’s pathetic, really.”

You tilted your head slightly, sensing her frustration even without seeing the direction of her gaze. “Who, Rhaenyra?” you asked softly.

“Who else?” she replied, her voice low but biting. “Lord Jason. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you.”

Your lips curved into a faint smile, your tone calm as you replied, “Perhaps he’s simply ensuring we are comfortable. It is his home, after all.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re too kind, sister. He’s not just looking—he’s plotting. Men like him always are.”

You considered her words but chose not to respond immediately. Instead, you turned your face slightly toward her, your expression thoughtful. “Tell me, Rhaenyra,” you said gently, “what does this hall look like? It must be grand to gaze upon.”

The question softened Rhaenyra’s features, her irritation momentarily giving way to contemplation. She leaned back slightly, her gaze sweeping the hall as she answered.

“It is vast,” she began, her voice steady. “The walls are carved from golden stone, polished smooth so they gleam in the torchlight. The banners of House Lannister hang high, each one bearing the golden lion on a field of crimson. Chandeliers hang above, their candles casting a soft, flickering glow that dances on the polished floors. And the table where the King sits…” She paused, her tone tinged with reluctant admiration. “It’s carved from a single piece of wood, massive and intricate, with lions etched along its edges.”

You smiled faintly, your hands resting lightly in your lap. “It sounds magnificent,” you said softly. “A place steeped in history and power.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her gaze flicked back toward Jason, her irritation resurfacing. “And ambition,” she added. “Men like Jason thrive in places like this. Every word, every glance—it’s all calculated.”

The ladies around you continued to chat and giggle, their whispers carrying fragments of admiration for the Lannisters and their legendary wealth. One of them leaned closer to you, her tone conspiratorial. “Your Grace,” she said, her voice hushed but excited, “did you notice how Lord Jason looked at you when you entered? It was as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.”

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, her tone cutting as she replied before you could. “Of course he did. It’s the same way he looked at me before Father rejected him. He’s simply shifted his focus.”

You sighed softly, your voice calm but firm. “Enough, Rhaenyra. Let us not judge him so harshly without cause.”

Your sister regarded you for a moment, her expression softening slightly as she sighed. “I only worry for you, Y/N. You trust too easily.”

“And you trust too little,” you replied gently, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Perhaps we balance each other in that way.”

Rhaenyra huffed a quiet laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Perhaps we do.”

As the conversation settled, you leaned slightly toward her, your tone softer now. “Thank you for describing the hall to me, Rhaenyra. It helps me see it in my own way.”

Rhaenyra’s lips curved into a faint smile, her earlier irritation fading as she replied, “Of course, sister. I’ll always help you see.”

The bond between you both, though tested by the pressures of court and family, remained steadfast, even amidst the gilded halls of Casterly Rock.

Jason Lannister crossed the grand hall with deliberate strides, his cloak trailing lightly behind him. His eyes flicked briefly toward Rhaenyra, who sat beside you, her posture stiff as she watched his approach. But it was you who held his attention, your serene presence drawing him in despite the whispers and glances that trailed in his wake.

Jason inclined his head respectfully as he reached your table. “Princess Rhaenyra,” he greeted, his tone polite but lacking the warmth that followed. “Princess Y/N.” His gaze softened as it settled on you, his earlier conversation with your father emboldening him.

Rhaenyra’s violet eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Lord Jason,” she replied, her voice cool.

Jason, unfazed, turned his focus to you. “May I join you?” he asked, his tone gentle, though his confidence was evident.

You tilted your head slightly, sensing the tension emanating from Rhaenyra but choosing to address him directly. “Of course, Lord Jason,” you said softly, gesturing to the empty seat beside you. “It would be a pleasure.”

As Jason sat down, the ladies-in-waiting around you fell into a hushed whispering spree, their giggles barely concealed. Jason glanced their way briefly, a flicker of amusement crossing his face before he returned his attention to you.

“I hope the journey here was not too tiring,” he began, his voice warm.

“It was long, but smooth,” you replied, a faint smile gracing your lips. “And the destination has made it worthwhile.”

Jason chuckled softly. “I’m glad to hear that. Casterly Rock is a place of many stories and secrets, though most of them are locked away in its stones.”

“Were you one of those secrets as a boy?” you asked lightly, your curiosity genuine.

He grinned, the expression boyish and charming. “I might have been,” he admitted. “I spent most of my childhood trying to outrun my tutors. Tyland was always the clever one, but I had the speed to escape punishment more often than not.”

You smiled at his words, your voice soft with amusement. “It seems some things have not changed.”

Jason laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Perhaps not. And you, Princess? Were you a mischief-maker as a child?”

Your expression turned thoughtful as you considered his question. “Not mischief, I think,” you replied. “But I did have a habit of sneaking into the Dragonpit to sit with other dragons, before Silverwing was mine. The keepers were forever scolding me, though I suspect they were more amused than angry.”

Jason’s gaze softened, his admiration evident. “A habit of seeking out for dragons, then,” he said quietly. “Fitting for a Targaryen.”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile faint but warm. “Perhaps.”

As the conversation flowed, Jason allowed his hand to drift slightly closer to yours, his movements subtle yet deliberate. When his fingers brushed against yours, he paused, his touch light and unassuming. Then, slowly, he covered your hand with his, his warmth steady against your skin.

The whispering among your ladies-in-waiting grew louder, and Rhaenyra’s sharp gaze snapped to where Jason’s hand rested atop yours. Her lips parted as if to speak, but Jason, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, turned to address you directly.

“Your Grace,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that silenced the murmurs around you. “I spoke with your father earlier. He has given his approval for me to court you.”

You blinked, your expression momentarily surprised before it softened. “He has?” you asked, your tone calm but curious.

Jason nodded, his gaze unwavering. “He has. And more than that, I already have yours,” he added, his voice quieter but no less firm. “You gave it to me before I left King’s Landing.”

A faint blush rose to your cheeks, though you did not withdraw your hand from his. “I did,” you admitted softly, your voice steady. “But only if your intentions remain as they were.”

Jason’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his expression resolute. “They have not wavered,” he said firmly. “And they will not.”

Rhaenyra, still watching the exchange, exhaled sharply, her tension radiating. “You are bold, Lord Jason,” she said finally, her tone edged with disapproval.

Jason turned to her, his expression polite but unyielding. “Boldness is often necessary when pursuing something—someone—of great value,” he said. “And your sister is more than worthy of such efforts.”

The animosity between them lingered, but you interceded, your voice calm. “Rhaenyra,” you said gently, “Lord Jason has done nothing to warrant your ire.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze softened slightly at your words, though her frustration remained evident. “I only wish to ensure you are not misled,” she said, her voice quieter now.

Jason inclined his head respectfully. “Your concern for your sister is admirable, Princess,” he said. “I only hope to prove myself worthy of the trust she has already placed in me.”

The quiet resolve in his tone left little room for argument, and though Rhaenyra said no more, her gaze lingered on the two of you, watchful and wary. Meanwhile, Jason’s attention returned fully to you, his hand remaining over yours as the whispers around you swirled like the faintest breeze.

The soft murmur of waves echoed faintly in the distance as you stood on the balcony of your chambers, the cool sea breeze brushing against your skin and teasing the edges of your braided hair. The night air carried the faint scent of salt and stone, mingling with the stillness of the hour. Your hands rested lightly on the carved stone railing, its texture smooth beneath your fingertips.

Ser Lorent stood a respectful distance behind you, his armor catching the moonlight. Ever watchful, he remained as steady as the cliffs that cradled Casterly Rock. The silence between you was companionable, broken only by the gentle rustling of your gown as you shifted your weight slightly.

“It’s quieter here,” you said softly, your voice barely rising above the whisper of the wind. “Quieter than the Red Keep, even quieter than Dragonstone.”

Ser Lorent’s voice, low and steady, answered you. “The Rock has its own kind of stillness, Princess. The walls are thick, the sea muffles much of the noise. It can be… soothing, for some.”

You smiled faintly, tilting your head upward as if to face the sky. “And the stars tonight?” you asked, your tone carrying a note of curiosity. “What do they look like?”

Ser Lorent took a step closer, his boots barely audible against the stone floor. “Clear and bright,” he said. “The sky is dark, without a cloud to obscure them. There’s a cluster directly above us, a scattering like a handful of diamonds on black velvet. The moon is nearly full, casting a soft glow over the sea.”

Your fingers brushed against the stone railing as you imagined the scene he described, the vastness of the sky stretching endlessly above you. “It sounds beautiful,” you murmured. “The stars always seemed closer at Dragonstone, but here… perhaps they feel more patient.”

“They are constant, Princess,” Ser Lorent replied. “No matter where you stand.”

You turned your face slightly toward him, your expression thoughtful. “Do you ever wonder, Ser Lorent, what it is they watch for? What they see that we cannot?”

He hesitated, as if considering the question carefully. “Perhaps they watch to remind us of our place,” he said finally. “Small and fleeting, but part of something greater.”

You nodded, your lips curving into a faint smile. “That’s a comforting thought.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the breeze tugging at the edges of your cloak. The distant crash of waves against the cliffs was a steady rhythm, a reminder of the world’s immensity and your small place within it.

“I think I like it here,” you said suddenly, your voice quiet but resolute. “It’s peaceful. A different kind of peace than I’ve known before.”

Ser Lorent inclined his head slightly, his gaze steady. “It suits you, Princess. This place… it seems to bring you calm.”

You smiled again, your fingers tracing the smooth stone beneath your hand. “Perhaps it does,” you said softly. “Or perhaps it’s simply the quiet. It gives one space to think.”

Ser Lorent said nothing more, his presence a reassuring constant as the breeze carried your words away. The stars above shone brightly, unseen by your eyes but no less present, a reminder of the vastness of the world and the quiet moments that made it beautiful.

#house of the dragon #hotd #fire and blood #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house targaryen #house lannister #x reader #hotd jason #jason lannister #jason x reader #jason x you #jason x y/n #the second daughter

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tthegoldentouch · 9 months ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Aventurine!!

“Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.

Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget his birthday, again.”

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort in the end to compensate for everything else ❤️ Reader is not physically present in the fic (they're not dead it's ok)

wc: 3.3k

Aventurine was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door just as the sun began to slant westward.

With a sigh, he puts down the pen and glances at the wall clock. The hands on the parchment-shaped monstrosity read 1 pm, but his eyes are drawn back to the purple tongue protruding from its massively extended mouth. Seriously, where does Stelle find these items? "An ugly, purple parchment shaped wall clock that looks like it's ready to eat people"— isn't something most people would think to give him, to say the least. But that's the thing—it was Stelle.

She claimed to have found it during one of her "excavations." And even though Miss March 7th did her best to keep her friend from going into further details, stepping on Stelle's toes right in front of him and giving her a sidelong glance, as if he wouldn't notice, he could tell what kind of "excavations" would turn up something like this. Not like he minds the origins of this gift, however. Gifts from friends are few and far to come by, especially ones who actually tolerate him. Not to mention, Stelle likely sincerely believes that it's a cool gift, which is why it has replaced the diamond-embedded wall clock on his wall.

His musings are interrupted by a second knock, which, like the first one, reverberates once around the room before fading away in embarrassment. "Come in." He announces, reclining back in his seat and looking at the door with expectation in his eyes. It was not uncommon for his secretary to appear randomly in his office, constantly fussing over yet another minor issue. He believed it was her; at least, his itinerary showed he didn't have any guest visits today. Maybe it was time to replace assistants—the new hire is clearly not on the same wavelength as him. But he'd only recently had Topaz yell at him for changing staff so frequently; he'd prefer not to tell her that her choice was horribly disappointing just yet.

With a tiny bag bearing a brand he is all too acquainted with, the secretary enters the office. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time, hence doesn't notice when her supervisor raises an eyebrow at the sight of his favorite jewelry brand. "Sir," she says in a low, somewhat flat voice, akin to that of a news reporter. "Earlier, a staff of Madam Jade stopped by. You have a present."

A grin appears on Aventurine's face, followed by a joyful chuckle. With how busy work has been lately, he'd almost forgotten when he asked Jade for a pink diamond, as has Jade apparently, seeing how long it's taken for her to send this. His request was a joke, of course, only meant to irritate Topaz. But he wasn't surprised either; Jade always takes good care of her weaponry. "Ahhh, no wonder!" He chirps and presses his palms together. "She must've finally found some generosity in her heart, hm?" He muses, and his assistant can only stand there stoically. He waves her off as she places the bag on his table and departs with an unnecessary low bow, never looking at his eyes once. As always.

When the secretary has left the room, he opens the bag, humming as he removes the box and gift card. Jade's handwriting is distinctive: prim and precise cursive that resembles a font.

"Happy birthday, Aventurine. This jewel would suit you far better than the pink diamond you asked for, don't you think?" — Jade

Kakavasha freezes. His birthday, she says, but she'd need to align the standard calendar system to the Sigonian one to find that out. She sent him a…..….a gift? For his birthday?

Is this a fucking joke?

The box reveals a chunk of corundum. Raw, uncut, pink and blue hues all over. Shades way too close to his eyes, and it doesn't take a gemologist to tell that Jade had done her searching thoroughly to obtain this. A jewel the color of his eyes, the color of Avgin eyes, neatly wrapped in a box for….to send ..what sort of message, exactly? Oh Avgin, never forget who you were before I found you—unpolished and undeserving. forget your name, but never your roots.

The note is crumpled and thrown in the trashcan, while the corundum and its box are hastily and carelessly pushed back into the bag. Really, so typical of Jade, he scoffs as he tosses the godforsaken bag into a random drawer, never to be seen again.

Kakavasha— no, Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.

Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget, again.

In any case, Aventurine concludes that it is not good for him to worry about this too much. Yes, he can just forget about the corundum. Yes, he is able to forget how it resembled Avgin eyes. Yes, he can also forget that Jade most likely sent this to "keep him in check" following the stunt he did in Penacony. But it was a mistake on his part to not see something coming. She had done this before, and it would not be the last time. He smiles at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, composed, shrewd, and calculated. Since a mirror has the freedom of choice, it does not return his smile.

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By the time the car comes to a stop in front of his house, Aventurine is exhausted. His chauffeur unlocks the door for him, and he makes his way to the elevator. Yet he's interrupted again— of course, because it's a cursed day, and Aventurine has to restrain himself from scowling at the gateman, who stands in front of him wearing an anxious expression. "Sir, your friend had visited earlier to drop off something."

He raises an eyebrow and is about to inquire when he notices the bag the man is carrying. Without saying anything further, he simply takes the bag. You are the only one who'd own a dumb clockie bag and the only one who'd ever drop things off at his place.

When he steps in, his three catcakes meow loudly to greet him, and feels somewhat grateful for it. Today was just too exhausting, after all. He understands what this is about, based on the fact that you always give him gifts in person. Why, of all days, would you consider dropping it off today? And with no advanced notice- completely unlike you. How annoying, did Jade really have to do this too? He's never disclosed his birthday to you, so you probably coerced her into telling you, and she was glad to oblige, given you are of value to her.

Aventurine doesn't realize he's been standing in the kitchen for a long time until Spade begins massaging its fluffy body on his legs. He is surrounded by his three catcakes, who are all staring up at him expectantly. The message is crystal clear: We Want Food. He moves swiftly to get their food bowls, chuckling to himself before setting your lunchbox on the counter, sort of as an afterthought. At least they'll be able to go to bed well fed tonight.

After serving them dinner, he leaves the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine, hoping to spend the remainder of the evening crashing on the couch. He can just leave everything else for tomorrow. The benefit of drinking is that it can temporarily impair your ability to sense emotions. He only needs a short term fix, after all. Come tomorrow, he'll take hangover pills, and walk out of this house as Aventurine of the stratagems again— undoubtedly.

He turns on a random B-grade movie, prepared to drink the night away. And he does precisely that—he pushes down thoughts of how his childhood friends, whose features now misty in his memories, would react if they were to see him. With another shot, he pushes down recollections of his mother's cooking—the special meals for the Kakava—and his birthday. Another to accept the now-blurry face of his sister in his memory as the only proof of her existence. Another to forget the clay dolls she'd made for him, on the last birthday kakavasha got to celebrate, that were broken when he had to run for his life. And one more shot, and another, till he's forgotten everything; till he's numb and emotionless.

Feeling empty and hollow is far worse than anything else, and being unable to cry isn't as pleasant as he thought it'd be. But in his lavish home, where gold abounds in every nook and cranny, he has little reason for tears. Money may not be able to buy him happiness, as he is well aware, but it certainly does spare him from ugly tears unfit for his visage. Maybe that's why he hasn't cried in a while, or perhaps he has simply lost his soul somewhere along the way. He stays on the couch till 3 am, accompanied by his pets. He pretends not to see the troubled looks they shoot at him, whispered words passed between them that are clearly about him. By the time he decides to rest for the night, he is fatigued, sluggish, and barely keeping it together.

When he gets up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Ace makes a protesting noise before promptly shutting up. Catcakes are smart creatures, and they understand him better than most individuals in his life (or maybe the difference lies in care) His throat is dry, and ice cold water from the freezer provides enormous relief. However, the respite is taken away from him by the crackling lightning, loud as a whip, pulling out memories up to the forefront of his mind again. Of the lightning without the rain, of Sigonia-IV. The drumming of the thunder is largely hidden by the concrete walls, so it isn't as hard on the ear—but it aches a lot more than it did before. Aventurine sneers to himself, dismissing the idea as ludicrous. As if.

The second time the thunder sizzles, Aventurine has to take a sharp breath and grip the countertop to steady himself. It sounds like playing dead in the bleeding streams of Sigonia-IV, like the booming cackle of the mocking thunder. Had he been an insolent child, just a little more doubtful than he already was, he'd believe it was Mama Fenge herself laughing at her so called "blessed child". The thunder sounds similar, but it's not the same. No, because this is still Aventurine and he's still here and those are someone else's memories, forgotten and buried in sand.

Aventurine sighs.

Drinking too much has never done any good to him.

Just as he is ready to leave the kitchen, he notices the lunchbox sitting the counter out of the corner of his eye. Oh, right. He hadn't even touched it. A distraction doesn't seem bad now, though. If he wants to fabricate a plausible lie about eating the food, he would at least need to know what kind of food you sent. If the mental image of your frown after discovering he never even looked at what you sent is what gives him the final push , he would never admit it.

The lunchbox has a plains bear cub logo: you've always been a sucker for cute things. He sets aside the little note attached for later this time, preferring to taste the dinner first. It looks like you chose to make him some kind of soup. Insulated lunchboxes are a blessing— because it's surely been well over half a day since you made it, yet it's still warm. While the presentation is relatively simple, it smells strangely comforting— effect of some potion? He's heard of those, but they're usually used for sick patients, no? Other than that, this is the first homemade meal he's having in a….while. Not that it matters. Aventurine isn't picky, and while the leafy greens are unfamiliar to him, he believes he can handle at least a tablespoon.

Even the largest avalanche can be triggered by the smallest of things. Just one spoonful, and yet it's enough to make his world stop.

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The dry, broken soil scraped against his bare feet, producing little clouds of dust in its wake. His strides were light and rapid, nearly tripping over himself with excitement and giddiness. Just a little more, and he'll reach the finish line. Even the Sun's typical glare felt kind today; warm and tender against his tanned skin. Jumping over the homemade hurdles, he reaches the finish line far ahead of his friends. They protest and pout, and he taunts them with the biggest smile on his face. The soles of his feet feel slightly sore from running barefoot, but Kakavasha wouldn't risk destroying his only pair of shoes for a game.

When he hears his sister's voice calling for him, he rushes to embrace her and buries his face in her apron. His mother once told him that the Avgins all possess lovely voices, but Kakavasha believes his sister's is the best, especially when she laughs.

"And when will you listen to me and stop running around in the middle of the day, hm?" She pinches his nose and uses her apron to wipe the dirt off his face. Kakavasha beams at her with no regrets, proudly displaying the gap between his teeth. Once kakavasha had said his goodbyes to his friends, they walk hand in hand towards their tent.

There, his mother welcomes them with a warm embrace that smells like creosote bush and desert rain. “My darling," she coos, putting his small hands in her larger ones, rough from labour. "I remember you promised to be on time for lunch last time?" He grins cheekily, vowing not to do it again. (He's a repeat offender, but he knows that his mother and sister can't stay upset at him for long.)

His mother laughs, and tells him to tidy up before eating. Kakavasha's tummy is grumbling by the time he returns, and he finds the mats his sister laid down to sit on. The two siblings sit next to each other, chatting and giggling as they wait for their mother. She serves them a pot of hot soup with nettle leaves and lentils, just the way Kakavasha prefers it. He's overjoyed; quickly finishing his prayers before digging in. Kakavasha is a growing boy, and that's proved again when he finishes his bowl before his family.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The soup she'd served him back then wasn't anything lavish; just a simple soup with local herbs and nettle leaves in a broth that smelt so uniquely of hers. His mama may have had a knack for cooking, but due to a lack of opportunities and resources, she never got to demonstrate her abilities. Compared to that, your food is much finer, and while excellent, it lacks the warmth of his mother's hands.

Nevertheless, he can't resist taking another spoonful and quickly putting it in his mouth because the familiarity is so, so palpable. He recalls that his sister wanted him to eat better, so she gave him half of her portion after he finished his. His mother then gave his sister half of her portion, as they are Both growing children. All of a sudden, the bickering, the laughs, and their voices are as plain as day in his mind. He can't fully recall the glitter in his sister's eyes or the dimple on his mother's cheek, but it's clearer than any other memory he had of them, that's for sure.

Aventurine can't stop crying, even if he wants to. Trying to halt the choking sobbing is fruitless, as is trying to figure out what's going on. He picks up the little message with shaking hands, hoping—praying—that it will help. You'll make it make sense. Somehow.

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“Dear Aventurine, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!!!”

Written in thin, flowing, rounded letters that are noticeably cleaner than your actual handwriting. You undoubtedly put a lot of effort into each letter you wrote. Aventurine was correct in assuming you found out his birthday through Jade, as you have written it here. "Buying a gift for you seems…a little perfunctory," you said, "so I've settled with cooking you something myself."

"And if the dish tastes familiar (which I hope it does) then yes, you've guessed it right— it's a traditional Avgin dish."

The perfumed ink is thicker here, a few ink blots from where you've likely paused to think, go over each sentence in your head before writing them down.

You mention finding the Avgin dishes by reading some kind of research paper on Sigonian culture and food, but Aventurine isn't sure he can believe that. You wrote, "I was fortunate enough," yet chance alone wouldn't get you something like that. Sure, maybe some doctoral candidate was crazy enough to choose a dead planet and its deader tribes to write about, but finding that paper would be too difficult. The biggest issue, however, is that Aventurine believes this dish should not and cannot exist. The stinging nettle leaves his mother used are no longer available, and while he didn't know much about cooking at the time, he was aware that all of the spices he knew were almost extinct. He's looked enough to know.

"I'll be honest, I had some trouble locating the ingredients for it and had to swap the majority of them because I couldn't find them. I really wanted to bring back a familiar feeling, even if it tastes very different from how you remember it. Plus, it's the thought that counts, right?"

In contrast to the light-hearted language, your writing is slightly wobbly and darker here, and Aventurine wonders if you realise your emotions seep through every single one of your actions, laid bare for the world to see.

Noting the disappearance of their owner, curious, the catcakes peep into the kitchen are immediately alarmed to see their owner sitting on the counter stool, sobbing and clutching a box. Spade, unsure of what to do, nuzzles it's head on Aventurine's leg, while the others meow in an attempt to calm him down. Aventurine hasn't sobbed in a long time—he can't remember how to anymore. His body shakes with each ragged and broken sob, sounding shattered and damaged, but he can't stop.

"I hope it brings you fond memories" is what you wrote down, but are you aware of the full impact of what you did for him? Most likely not. Aventurine cherishes all of his memories, including the unpleasant ones: as long as it involves his family. His misery knows no bounds, but he's only had a few years with his sister, and even fewer with his mother. So even the saddest memories are never forgotten, so he can preserve as much of them as possible. They live through his memories, after all.

Even when plain, his mother's meals provided him with more warmth than anything else back then. To feel that warmth decades later is a blessing he can't repay— but a blessing nonetheless. He doesn't have many memories like this one either, gentle and happy, contrary to the endless memories of struggling. He remembers their love so vividly right now, feels it so strongly, alongside yours— that he has no choice but to revel in it.

(Come tomorrow , when he's sober, puffy-eyed from crying and not as vulnerable, he'll have trouble figuring your reasoning. But for now, he'll be fine. Tonight, he'll go to sleep feeling loved. Tonight, his pets will cuddle him to sleep. Tonight, he'll dream of a Sigonia Only he knows.)

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A/N: I'm honestly still so embarrassed about this bc I have an idea but can't execute it like I want to and 🫠🫠 As always, comments and reblogs are really appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3

#aventurine x reader #aventurine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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brokenpieces-72 · 9 months ago

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Hybrid au is so tastyyy

My minds stuck on reader getting their first romantical partner and the boys just being EVEYWHERE the lovers don't get a single second alone and do not even think about closing the door when alone that's a no no

Okay so I would say this happens when Spirit is a little older. As to whether the partner is human or hybrid I’m not sure.

Romantic Recon

You started with just hanging out but you got curious about a romantic partner. You got attached to them and they enjoyed your company. They were sweet and charming. Thought your ears were cute which always made you blush. Sometimes Johnny would notice and inquire, but you wouldn’t notice so you just shrugged it off, all happy and sunshine. Johnny doesn't let it go.

Your partner finally asks if you want to start spending more time together, and lo and behold, Konig overhears. Does he bring it up with Soap? Yes absolutely. Ghost is with him, and so is Gaz. They’d already suspected, your hormones do increase when you’re close to your partner. And of fucking course they get protective.

Horangi teases the fuck out of it. You swear everytime you just want to sit and talk with your partner he comes into the room to “grab something” or “pass through”. Yeah right, you know recon when you see it.

Konig does accidentally walk in on you. At one point you are audibly frustrated, and he backs out of the room. He didn’t mean to walk in, really. You probably shouldn’t close doors though. The last thing he wanted was to walk in on something you shouldn’t be- okay okay, you got it. Please don’t go into detail.

Price doesn’t mind you having a partner, but no closed doors. He’ll knock, to give you some space, but it’s more like a chance for you to stop canoodling before he opens the door. Door has to stay open or you can be out in rec room. Besides you have some work to do anyways. No you don’t get to bring the work back to your room, and your partner has another task they’re needed for.

Alejandro steps in when your partner is alone, you had to get up to grab something. At some point he calls your partner aside to ask a few questions, making sure they did the work they were supposed to. Then he asks what your partners intentions were with you. That made your partner uneasy. Nothing bad sir, they swear.

Rudy tag teams with the colonel, and will have the cadejos scratch on your door if it’s closed. Once you tried to hide with your partner just to talk, it was really just meant to be a simple chat. They were having a rough day and you wanted to know what was going on. Everything would be okay, you know it would and-really?! Rudy just stood there holding the door open. Everything okay in here? Obviously just go! The door was left open and you apologized profusely to your partner.

Ghost is annoying cause he acts like he hasn’t done anything. Yeah he definitely didn’t pass through the walls to see what you were up to. Closed doors are fucking useless with him. You half suspect Johnny put him up to it. No he just found it easier to pass through on his way to coffee. You roll your eyes, and tell him not to that. You’re a grown woman, and don’t appreciate him just coming in to your room whenever he pleases. You have a full on confrontation after he walked in on you and your partner in your room. You get why he did it when you were younger and your handler was a jerk, but he didn’t get to do it now. Simon actually respects your wishes. He still keeps watching though.

You figured if you couldn’t get privacy inside you’d try outside.…Gaz what the hell? You tried the roof where you sometimes sat with Gaz, but Gaz landed and told you two to get another roof. Oh come on, you were there first. Whatever. Your partner suggests a hike later on, and you love hiking and think you might actually get away for a bit! Yes! You could show your partner some of the best spots! Your partner finds your excitement adorable. Gaz flying overhead made your cloud watching a little annoying. Your partner is used to it at this point.

Johnny… okay Johnny was the one you could understand being protective but holy shit could he tone it down! When he asks who made you blush and you told him he went straight to the soldier. Since then he was watching like a hawk or asking someone else to check up on you. If he even sensed your hormones being different he would ask what you were up to tonight. Yeah, right it’s not nothing. You’re still not telling. He’ll sniff it out. He does and it’s frustrating. If he walks in he tries to cover it up, like it’s nothing, sorry he was just grabbing some food, or something. The final straw was when you still didn’t tell him what you were doing and he learned you went out without telling anyone with only your partner. He went full wolf mode tracking you down. That was fucking it! When you heard him coming you went into your full wendigo form, staring him down. The werewolf growling and your towering Wendigo form startled your date, and when you finally returned to base they asked if you two could take a break.

Price did give Johnny a hard time about go so protective. He understood why, but ha! You weren’t letting him off that easy. That night you were upset and did some crying. This wasn’t fair, you were an adult… and as an adult you were going to set some rules of your own. No joke you came to Price a day or so later requesting a meeting. No not with him, though you wanted his attendance, you wanted it with the whole team. Yeah Horangi better be there too or you would ask Konig to help you strap him to a chair to listen.

The atmosphere in that room is awkward. When Johnny tried to apologize after what happened you ignored him which never happens. As you left the room Ghost made a comment about him being in the dog house. You poked your head back in glaring. Oh no, Ghost was haunting that dog house too. Shit. In the meeting room everyone was present.

“Are you all aware I’m an adult?” You asked.

The room was very quiet with a few exchanging looks. You’ll take that as a yes.

“And you are also aware I am fully capable of making my own decisions? Of making my own mistakes and maybe even making good choices?” The room gave a few nods. Yeah okay, where was this going?

“So then you should also be aware that despite being the youngest on this team I am fully capable of having my own sex life.” You stated, arms crossed and glaring at each of them. Some of them went red.

“You’ve been avin sex?!” Johnny asked, voice raised. That’s what he focused on?!

“FUCKING NO!! Not that I would even have a chance with you lot fucking spying on me 24/7 like I’m thirteen!” You shouted back. That got Johnny to back off. You were upset, and he was the cause. They all were in some part.

“Spirit, what is this meeting about?” Price asked. You know he wants you to get on with the main point. It wasn’t just to have an argument with Johnny.

“I just want to have some proper alone time with my partner. We can’t easily leave base whenever we want, and there’s tons of people coming and going, I get that. But the few times we can be together to just hang out or cuddle for a bit, someone walks in on us, and all of you seem to have forgotten how to close the door, or that I am entitled to some level of privacy!” You explained. Okay, that was a much better explanation. There’s some undertones of emotion in your voice. The team was so used to you being their little one, they seemed to forget sometimes that you’d grown up.

Price gives in, and asks what you propose. You want to set some ground rules. You were permitted to be alone with your partner if you so desired. If they needed you, they could text or call for you, you could hear it. If the door is closed they had to knock, and had to wait for your response before coming in. No trying to get between you and your partner, or pulling you apart for other tasks unless it was actually required. It was something they all had to follow, but Johnny had only one condition. That you at least tell him where you’re going if you do leave for something. He’d only follow if it was an emergency.

By the end of the meeting, everyone parts ways to go about their usual routine. Gaz stuck behind while Johnny gave you space at Simon’s request. He noticed you were upset and wanted to apologize for the fly by. Not that it would matter, since your partner wanted a break. Kyle assured you that your partner needed time to relax, and adjust to the crazy hybrid family you had on base. It couldn’t hurt for you to take some time for yourself as well. Give it maybe a day or so, and then go talk to them. The woods would probably be the best to ensure you have some privacy. If you want, Kyle will wait for you on the roof.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @yune1337

#cod au #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #task force 141 x reader #alejandro vargas #rudolfo parra #hybrid au #romance #ha yeah right #unless #wendigo jackalope #jackalope hybrid #hybrid reader

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seraphicloves · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐮

⊱✿⊰ summary: head canons as a gift to @lovelykil

⊱✿⊰ warnings: nothing crazy. Mentions of pregnancy and kids but nothing nsfw

⊱✿⊰ notes: my first fanfiction on this new account! How exciting am i right??

❀ Izuku loves to show how grateful he is to have you as a partner. You are kind and compassionate and just amazing. He loves everything about you and does his best to show you that. He buys you flowers regularly, takes you on dates as much as he can (with his busy schedule), and tries to show you he appreciates you.

❀ Although he has a very busy life as a pro hero he makes time for you. Quick lunches in between rescues and the occasional time he takes a day off go spend it with you. Whenever he takes the day off he loves to make you dinner.

❀ He knows he wanted to marry you almost right into dating. You are so perfect ans you make him feel the best he could be. Why wouldn't he choose to spend the rest of his life with you?

❀ surprisingly or not, izuku prefers keeping your relationship details pretty private. Like he doesn't hide you from the public but he does keep them from giving you all invasive questions. Anyway, I think he proposed over a fancy dinner he cooked at home. Popping open the wine, pulling out the candles, y'know the works.

"Oh wow," you said, walking into the very fancy dinner Izuku had made for the both of you. You tried thinking back to if this was a special occasion but you could not figure out what it could possibly be.

"Zu, what's all this for?" You asked, looking at him with grateful confusion. He was so kind to you and you had no idea what you did to earn such a man. He smiles and sits you down, telling you to enjoy dinner and he'd explain later.

So the both of you ate dinner with easy conversation, just like any sort of date you'd go on. After dinner you opened your mouth to ask what had been bugging you all evening when he knelt in front of you.

"Will you marry me?" He asked, his freckled face the most adorable pink color. He looked like the high schooler you met all those years ago, nervous but so strong.

"Yes, yes! I would love to marry you!" You answered, a few tears breaking free from your overwhelming amounts of emotion. He grinned, putting the ring on your finger before wrapping his arms around your waist and twirling you around.

❀ you guys had a relatively simple wedding. Full of family and close friends (not to mention the stray reporters who somehow snuck in.) Your classmates and teachers from UA even managed to come which was lucky.

❀ i think you guys honeymooned in like Italy or something. Izuku would have asked for America though lol

❀ I would think about a year into marriage you start to talk about kids. Izuku has always wanted kids and especially wants them with you so of course he brings up the conversation. He has enough money as a top pro hero to support any decisions including if you chose to continue working rather than being a stay at home mom.

❀ he is so happy when you tell him you are pregnant with a baby girl. After celebrating with you he immediately calls his mom to tell her the good news, which she was also excited for. Inko definitely came to your place later that day with fresh cookies for her son and his gorgeous wife. Inko loves you like you were her own daughter.

❀ The pregnancy goes smoothly and you gave birth to an adorable little girl, named Zuri. (Both her and Izuku's nicknames are Zu). She was perfect and sweet.

❀ Izuku tries to spend as much time with his family as he can. He take days off and makes sure you and Zuri feel as loved as possible.

❀ When Zuri was four years old she asked for a baby brother which you and Izuku were more than happy to oblige. Thus comes your son, Mikumo (nicknamed Mikey)

❀ you guys are honestly the cutest family. You are literally the model family for all of Japan. You guys are on the cover of some sort of magazine or something.

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pixeltwix · 8 months ago

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-Fiddleford Missing His Family-

To me, one of the most heartbreaking details of Gravity Falls is just..everything McGucket related, but specifically him before he starts even getting his family back after Weirdmageddon

Because he spent the entire series and probably the last thirty years trying to recreate his family

It speaks volumes to me that despite a shunning son and a divorce on his pallet, and zero memory or how any of this even happened, that he’s desperately trying to recreate a life he doesn’t even remember but knows he at least had at one point and wants again

Obviously we know he did have a wife and son, hell he’s introduced as a father first and foremost in the story and I think most people forget that, but through and through he is inherently a family man

I myself struggle to understand this mindset, and most do as well, but some people genuinely want to have a family. Like that’s genuinely their dream and their goal in life alongside their occupational dreams, and Fiddleford completely comes off as that kinda guy. I think he just struggled to balance himself thinking he couldn’t do fifty fifty and instead put one hundred percent into things separately and fell short in both categories here and there

Regardless, we know Tate, and even though season one never planned on making McGucket anything other than a comedic side character we know that changed with season two in the shows new direction

All that really does is complicate things for why Tate is here. Obviously we can fill in the blanks with the lore later given last minute, maybe he wanted to see if his father was actually up in Gravity Falls, maybe he wanted to see if he could get through to him and it ‘wasn’t as bad’ as what he had heard or assumed, but that’s not relevant in this post at the moment

What I’m focusing on instead is the fact that just because Fiddleford can’t bridge the gap and connect with his actual son, because he has zero clue what it is he’s done, it doesn’t stop him from being in the community and playing roles that a ‘normal father’ would be doing for his kids

Ie reading town history to local kids (even if he just wound up eating the books after) it’s usually still an important thing parents tend to want to do with their kids (the teaching aspect)

Being there as a chaperone on a first date (I know it’s not the first for Gideon & Mabel, but the point is still there) as most ‘normal’ parents want to be active in their kids lives and make sure they’re being safe, & making good choices in the world

Being at the Sev’Ral Times concert (later seen crowd surfing, which honestly still cracks me up) but nevertheless he shows up out of the blue to be vocally supportive of the girls excitement for the concert and their plans

Yknow, as a parent ought to be when taking their kid to their favorite bands concert

Annnd then of course, far less subtle to anything else mentioned before regarding an image to general parenthood, we have raccoon wife

Again, there’s nothing subtle about this, it’s raccoon wife and it is bizarre that no one in town questions this. “Crazy local coot thinks he’s married to a raccoon? Yeah, makes sense.” (Though tbf there’s a local man married to a woodpecker, so ig it’s whatever for everyone)

Again x2 I’m not sure what to add on here because it feels pretty blatant what bro is shooting for mental wise here, it just makes me wonder wHAt about a raccoon reminds him of Emma May?

Maybe it’s just the pale round face, dark eyes, and brown hair that makes it click in his head

Regardless I still think it’s sweet that even when he’s gotten some recollection of himself back he’s still concerned for the raccoons in the apocalypse

Anywho, call me an emotional loser if you want, but the concept of this old man wanting his family back for some thirty odd years and not knowing how to get them back so he substitutes it with other things is horribly depressing

I can at least rest easy knowing his relationship with Tate has improved after Weirdmageddon :)

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #fiddleford mcgucket #tate mcgucket #emma may dixon #the book of bill #book of bill #gravity falls thoughts #young fiddleford #mabel pines #weirdmageddon #journal 3 #fiddemma #my thoughs #rambles

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mschievousx · 1 year ago

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now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

epilogue

london air has never suited her. she could not put a name on it, but it was not like home—neither was her dorm, to be honest. hence, she found herself walking the streets one good morning.

she has always wanted to go to that art museum nearby but could not find the time to do so. university sucks, she gathered, but does love her program wholeheartedly. she really should not have been on this field though. engineering and astrophysics, perhaps, but they were harder to reach and unpractical. it is not to say she does not love what she does currently.

entering the place, she could not count how many times she already whispered magnificent in her mind. the structure, the artworks, the architecture—everything.

but, more than that, the girl was in love with art. she could not create her own, for heaven's sake, but she does love it.

so, she made sure to wander around to the fullest. the least she could do was appreciate others' works. of course, there were paintings she did not feel much—good thing she was alone though or else the girl has already yapped about it. she continued to go in deeper in the exhibit, admiring the genius of multiple artists. some were even hundreds of years ago.

she always found it unfair how we could preserve objects for hundreds of years but find it awfully hard to reach a hundred years ourselves. the things that are made outlive the creator. it was utterly unfair, but she thought.

perhaps, art was not meant for the present but for the future. it was made, not for the current eyes but for someone in the years to come.

in that sense, art is a form of communication through time. a kind of time travel, per se.

it was quite similar to schrödinger's cat. you could be present and absent at the same time. and that's exactly what she thought before her eyes landed on a huge painting.

she read its label, which was quite brief compared to the others, only containing the name, the artist, the medium, and the year created.

the execution of lady loraine silva

benedict bridgerton, 1815

"such a sad painting." she muttered unknowingly out loud. the girl was taken by it, intimately observing the details of the artwork.

"with a sad story too."

a voice added beside her. she turned to the man with friendly eyes as they both stand in front of the painting, admiring it. she pouted at that, the exhibit only placed the name of the works and no description at all.

maybe, it was a well-known art that does not even need to be explained as it speaks for itself, which she had to agree it did speak for itself. she was almost embarrassed that her being uncultured is showing.

"i am afraid i do not know the story well."

the man turned to her with intrigue—not that his interest was not already piqued before he even stood beside her. his eyes shined at that. he loved nothing more than to talk about the things he is well-knowledgeable.

"lady loraine silva is an eighteen-year old who was executed along with her father's second-in-command, colonel montague, for high treason."

she looked at him as she listened, lips parting in surprise, "oh, wow. i'd have to agree with you then. that's a really sad story—at a very young age too!"

he nodded with closed eyes as he continued, "benedict bridgerton, the artist, is said to be her lover. he finished the painting just weeks after the execution happened."

"damn," she whispered, letting her sight fall on the artwork again, "so much grief on a single painting."

"this letter is written by him." he stepped forward, gesturing to the letter incased in a glass near the painting before turning to her.

she followed his lead, walking near to read the two hundred years old paper.

give me your permission and i will continue to love you in another. believe that i will run amock across the universe until i find you.

and so, when you see the world ending in the newspapers, trust that it is my work because i still have not met you again.

she pursed her lips after reading, the man beside her actively watching her reaction. it was immensely sorrowful that she could feel the torment they must have been at that time.

she did not want to lose hope though. that was not her. so, she raised her eyes at him with a shine.

"the world is not ending. perhaps, he found her already."

his eyes widened just quite a bit, lips parting by her exceptional thought before a warm smile settled on his features, "perhaps."

she grinned widely—it was almost childish.

she let her gaze fall back on the paintaing across them both, a comfortable silence between them. it was amazing, really. people are so much in tune with their emotions.

"luke thompson."

the man beside her spoke once again. he introduced charmingly, putting a hand forward.

"francine silva."

she did not think twice in grasping it—and as she did, she could almost recognise him. she could almost tell he was somebody that she used to know.

"a relative?" his brows raised in surprise followed by a chuckle as he gestured to the painting, "you cannot possibly be a descendant because... well."

francine laughed genuinely, the sorrow of the art in front of them completely forgotten, "you'd be surprised at the amount of people in the world who have that surname."

she continued, gesturing to the exhibit around them, "do you work here? you know an awful lot about the artworks."

"you'd be surprised at the amount of people who work here and don't know a thing about these all." his familiar lopsided grin showed.

he was effortlessly funny as the girl jokingly narrowed her eyes to the workers who had their backs on the two.

he chuckled as he clarified, "i am an actor."

"really? that's amazing!" her mouth was agape at that, shrugging off her earlier thoughts.

ah, maybe that's why he looked familiar earlier.

the silva pouted right after, "i apologise i do not recognise you. i don't watch much telly nowadays."

luke shook his head dismissively as if saying it was not a problem at all, "you don't have to apologise. i am in theater and plays more anyway."

she gushed at the mention, "oh, i love plays!"

he beamed at her excitement, placing his fingers below his chin as if in deep thinking, "let me guess what you do. i am quite good at this."

she laughed at him acting serious with the game he started himself as he leaned to her for closer observation, "something related with arts?"

she blew a sigh, seemingly sulking, "i still can't even paint."

he stepped back at that, crossing his arms with a teasing judging look, "well, why are you here then?"

"can't i be an enjoyer of it even if i can't do it myself?" she rolled her eyes at his accusing tone before she continued, pulling a face, "i am on a break. if i look at cells, muscles, and neurons from my textbook for another second, i will die."

"ah, medical school then." he stated with confidence as the girl nodded begrudgingly.

"well, since you're on a break," luke began with a genuine smile as he playfully blocked her view of the artwork in front, offering his hand, "francine silva, what do you say for a quick tea?"

she beamed at him, her eyes shining like how the stars did one strange night during the regency period. she placed her own hand at the care of his.

"i thought you'd never ask."

they both knew they had to exit the museum together. they did not understand it, of course, but they may have felt it.

they may have recognised each other by touch alone. now and then.

perhaps, he was indeed somebody she used to know.

curious—how many people must have been listening to music they made in their previous lives, read books they do not remember writing.

how many people must have stared at their own art in museums with no recollection of the pain they had to go through to create that.

luckily, they stumbled upon each other today, just like they had three times before.

once in eighteen-fifteen.

once in eighteen-ninety-four.

once in nineteen-fourty-five.

perhaps, their love would be a little less painful this time.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x oc #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict is a fox

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