#am I still dying from illness? yes.

[leviiackrman]

THE WORST BOY BAND AROUND;

Johnny Finley: “dying is the easy part. living is the trick.”

Umetarou Noguchi: “it’s much better when you’re smiling”

Isaac Wattleseed: “she’s my sister. she needs me.”

Tobin Drake: “no matter what we do, it’s probably not legal”

Rob Young: “you always need an escape plan”

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[mythesque]

alhaitham and dehya are FRIENDS they are friends THEY ARE FRIENDS they are besties they are F R I E N D S this Is the hill i Will die on

[asakamasanobu]

can nakamura please bring back ritsu’s father issues …….. please i’m asking for a friend

[elmflowers]

the way some pe/rcy jackson fans talk about death disconcerts me. girlie we are slipping dangerously into some suicidal ideation territory. lets calm down and rethink how we are approaching death again

[mysicklove]

summary: Yuuji finds himself sick, and it gives him a perfect opportunity to spend time with his older brother.

wc: 1.8k

a/n: its back friends. all i think about is them.

big brother au masterlist

Yuuji lets out a mucus-filled cough and Sukuna cringes. The toddler turns to him and sniffles with a frown on his face. The elder, in return, rolls his eyes but readjusts the cool rag on his brother's forehead. "Don't look at me like that. Whose fault is this? If you do stupid things, you have to pay the consequences, little pest."

The boy doesn't move; instead, he just stubbornly shakes his head. "W-Wanted to play!"

"In the rain? Without any warm clothes? You truly are an idiot," Sukuna scolds, grabbing Yuuji's water bottle from the nightstand and forcing it into the little boy's mouth. 

Yuuji developed a fever this morning after sneaking out into the backyard last night to play in the rain puddles. Now he was stuck in bed, which was hard for the toddler who was always on the go and harder for Sukuna, who has to pretend that he isn't worried sick. 

You walk into the boy's room, and Yuuji immediately looks towards you. He tears the sippy cup from his mouth and lets out a high-pitched whine, already beginning to reach his arms toward you. He knows youll coddle him, unlike his brother, and the exhausted boy was craving attention. When you make it over the bed, he reaches his hands upward to you and pleads, "Up! Up!"

You frown at the boy, already reaching down to scoop him up, but Sukuna quickly intervenes, gently slapping your hand away. "No. He might get you sick too. Brat, you stay in bed."

The toddler opens his mouth to protest, but another cough cuts him off. Then, with watery eyes, he turns to Sukuna and nods. "Yes, b-brother."

You coo at the boy, using your palm to cup his warm cheek and thumb at the soft skin. Yuuji rests his entire head on the touch, and you frown. "Poor baby," You sigh, and Yuuji, ever the one to love being doted on, nods pitifully, adding an extra sniffle for effect. Sukuna almost rolls his eyes at the action.

"Why don't you coddle me like that when I am sick?" Sukuna complains before reaching over and pulling the blanket higher up Yuuji's chest. The boy mumbles out a thank you, but the elder ignores him.

"You whine too much, act like you are dying. Yuuji isn't being dramatic, huh Yuuji?" The boy nods, gripping your arm and rubbing his face into your hand.

"No," he mumbles, "Not being dramatic!" He lets out a loud whine, and Sukuna already knows what's coming. "Feel so bad. Hurts!"

The boy seems to curl around your arm, and Sukuna sighs. "Yeah. Not dramatic at all." The kid sounds exactly like Sukuna when he is sick. Just minutes before, he proclaimed to Sukuna that he wanted to play again, even if he was still immensely ill. He just wanted attention, and it was obvious to everyone but you.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Yuuji. I brought you some medicine that will make you feel better." The boy's face drops at the word, and he hesitantly lets go of your arm. Sukuna barks a laugh at Yuuji's now twisted face. 

The toddler shakes his head gently, too tired to show his real disapproval. "N-No! No medicine!" It always tasted horrible to the toddler, and he knows that if he whines enough, he may be able to get his way.

Sukuna sighs, holding out his hand to you, and you drop the bottle into it. Then, he pours a copious amount of the pink strawberry-flavored liquid, made specifically for children, into the small measuring cup. 

Yuuji starts to scoot backward on the bed, trying to create some distance between the two. The elder does not let him go far – he grabs Yuuji's hand and places the small cup into it. "Now drink it, or I'm forcing it down your throat."

The boy gulps, glancing at you, who gives him an encouraging nod. Then he places it to his lips but pauses. "Go on," Sukuna demands.

"I want a treat after!" 

Sukunas barks a malicious laugh, and you raise your eyebrows at the boy. You have never heard him try to negotiate before. "Bullshit. Your "treat" is not to be stuck in bed, weakling."

You narrow your eyes at him when you hear the curse word, but Sukuna shrugs it off. Yuuji, on the other hand, eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Bad word!" He then turns to you in confirmation, pointing at his brother. "He said a bad word!"

You nod your head at him, trying to hide a smile. You were glad that your lessons of not saying curse words stuck with the boy, even with his brother's foul mouth. "Yes, he did. Sukuna, now you definitely owe him a treat afterward."

Sukuna glares at you, but you are used to it, so you instead just flash him a grin. You have told him a multitude of times how you feel about him saying curse words in front of the kid. You didn't want him to grow up so similarly to Sukuna; as much as you love the man, his dirty mouth is not something you hope Yuuji will inherit. 

Sukuna turns his attention back to his brother. "You little–"

"Please, Kuna?" Yuuji pleads, letting out another cough that makes him nervous. He rubs at his temple.

"Fine. Whatever. Just drink it, you manipulative brat." Yuujis eyes lighten up, and he brings the artificially smelling liquid to his mouth, cringing but drinking the entire thing. When he pulls away, his face is contorted in disgust, and he looks toward you. You run your fingers through his hair and praise the small boy, grabbing the small cup from his hands. 

Sukuna curtly nods his head. "Good. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, brat, but we are out of chocolate. No treat for you," He fake pouts at the boy, but Yuuji, in turn, just shakes his head with a small smile.

"Not what I want."

Sukuna raises his eyebrow, thinking for a second, before sighing. "We are out of popsicles too."

"Not that either!" Yuuji shakes his head with this one, and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

Sukuna borderline growls at the boy. "We are not watching Human Earthworm 2. Last time you nearly pissed yourself from how afraid you were." You laugh at the memory, remembering how much Yuuji pleaded to watch it for days, only to have it be turned off twenty minutes into the movie. The poor boy would make Sukuna walk him to the bathroom at night because he was so afraid of being alone in the dark.

Yuuji pouts at him, and another small cough it let out. You grab him some more water, and the boy mumbles a thank you before turning back to his brother. "I wasn't scared! And no, not that either!"

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to lose his temper. "What do you want then?"

The smile on Yuuji's face returns, even with the pinkened cheeks and the little bits of sweat on his temples. "Want Kuna to cuddle me!"

Your eyes widen, and you can't stop the laugh that leaves your mouth. Sukuna, on the other hand, goes silent for a long moment. "Not happening. Pick something else."

Yuuji whines out, shaking his head stubbornly. "Nooooo. You said I get a treat!"

"You are going to get me sick."

The boy sniffles at him, shaking his head. "Th-Thought brother was the strongest…"

This makes you grin, knowing your lover's ego well. And just like you thought, Sukuna lets out a dramatically large sigh. "Fucking–Fine. Whatever. Scoot over." You and Yuuji both let the curse word slide, being shocked at him actually agreeing.

Yuuji slides over, and Sukuna forces his way under the blankets beside the boy. You sit and watch as Yuuji basically scampers up Sukuna's chest until his head is placed in the elder's neck and his entire body is on top of the man. "Okay, really?" Sukuna grumbles, and you chuckle at him. "Are you some sort of spider monkey now?"

The boy hums in agreement, pressing himself impossibly closer to his brother. You take this time to stand up from the bed, having no room to fit you both. Sukuna watches you begin to leave and frowns at you. "Where are you going?"

This was a perfect time to give them some bonding time. So you shrug, "I'll be right back."

"You better be," Sukuna grumbles and Yuuji coincidentally sneezes into his neck. The man's whole body jerks, and he cringes. "Hey! None of that, that's disgusting!"

Yuuji whimpers, wrapping his arms tighter around his brother as if he was afraid to leave. Then he whispers an apology, and Sukuna rolls his eyes again.

You grab the door to the handle and step outside. "Well, have fun you two. Yuuji, feel better!"

Yuujis cranes his neck to look at you and waves back to you with a small smile, content in his position. Sukuna, on the other hand, glares at you. "Dont you dare leave me here with this brat."

You huff a laugh, ignoring him and already planning what movie you will watch by yourself. "Love you!"

"Hey!" He yells when you shut the door on him.

And, of course, luck is not always on Sukuna's side. When you come to check on them two hours later, you find them both passed out – Yuuji practically smothers Sukuna with his tiny body, drooling on the elder's face. You leave them like that, not thinking much of it.

But three days go by, and somehow Sukuna finds himself stuck in bed with a fever. He never dared to mention that Yuuji probably got him sick, his pride getting the better of him. 

You and the kid walk into your shared bedroom, Yuuji with a massive smile, finally feeling better, and you with a content grin. Sukuna slowly peers over to the door and groans out loud and dramatic. 

"Dont worry, Kuna! Dr. Yuuji is here to take care of you!" He cheers, grabbing his toy stethoscope and shuffling over to the bed. He manages to climb onto the bed with his brother without much trouble, and you follow him, sitting on the bed next to your lover. Like you did with Yuuji, you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him.

Sukuna peers at you, eyes slightly lighting up and a familiar grin pulling at his face. You already know something inappropriate is about to leave his mouth.

"I would feel so much better if you were in a nurse costume right now." But before you could try to reply, Yuuji shuts him up by shoving a toy thermometer into his mouth.

[ms0milk]

when you suddenly catch a nasty cold

gn!reader ft. todo, bkg, kiri, and (hearts in my eyes) shinsou

i am so ill and these are so silly, indulge me :,) 600ish words ea.

Todoroki starts to cry when you joke about dying.

He’s bought more flowers than can fit into your little apartment, picked up your prescriptions, tissues, juice, a heating pad, cleaned your kitchen, tucked you in– he paged the goddamned family physician– but watching you shiver under a heavy duvet surrounded by all the things that are supposed to help you get better ignites a fear he didn’t know that he had. They aren’t working. You’re still sick because of course you are, it’s only been a few hours, and still he can’t bring himself to move more than an arm’s length away from you because what if– if he leaves and–

“Shouto?”

“Yes,” his response is immediate when you pull him out of the ether. Always is.

I’m not going anywhere,” you croak, too conscious of how strange your voice sounds, “so you don’t have to stay with me all day.”

“I don’t mind.”

Todoroki is a wonderful boyfriend but when was the last time he went to the bathroom?

“You must be bored.”

He leans over you from his spot at the side of your bed and runs a blessedly too-cold hand across your forehead. Bored? Like he could calm down enough for that. “I can’t relax when you’re like this.”

You’d roll your eyes if they ached less, at your beautiful boyfriend and his cluelessly shoujo declarations of love framed by no fewer than two whole flower shops worth of camellias. He turns his hand over to palm your cheeks and wipe the water from your puffy eyes.

“Would you like me to leave?”

You shake your head, smiling under the weight of five thousand pounds of blankets and the heavy dip from his butt at the edge of your mattress. You’re inclined to reach a hand out to grab it, but you don’t have the energy to raise your head let alone fondle your boyfriend.

“There’s no one I’d rather be with in my final hours,” you rasp, joking, obviously joking.

This cold is something evil, chills, aches, snot– the works. But you couldn’t ask for a better nurse. A gentle, thoughtful, sexy, temperature controlled man, a man you would raze the city for, whose hand fits so perfectly in yours and who– whose trembling? You blink back up.

Todoroki’s features don’t shift or soften, his lip doesn’t quiver, but a tear does slip down his cheeks from those pool cool eyes– one after the next until his jaw is lined with them all patiently waiting to fall from his chin.

“Why, why why?” You panic and try to sit up but he comes to you. Todoroki cups your hand tightly in a hot and cold grip and bows over his own lap to rest his head in yours.

“You’re not going to die.”

“What?”

“I promise.”

“Sho, what– no of course I’m not. What’s wrong, baby?”

Your voice is so weak that he has no other choice than to sit back up and reach for the cold compress. He wipes his eyes with renewed determination when he turns back around, “I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, Sho. ’m not going anywhere, promise.”

And when the Todoroki family doctor lets himself in, he does consider coming back another time at the sight of you, finally comfortable under a mountain of fabric, and your love curled around you asleep on top of the blankets.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

It’s not until you genuinely collapse that Bakugou realizes something is wrong. He didn’t even hit you that hard.

“You’re wide open today!” The restless pro looms across the arena, grinning. You both come to the agency’s underground ring on Saturdays to train and he’s blasted you clear across the room like he’s actually working for a paycheck.

There wasn’t any amount of money you would have accepted to get out of bed this morning but Bakugou, a less than casual hookup from work, accidentally spent the night and the surprisingly sleep soft rumble of his voice and the gentle kneed of palms as he pulled you back against his body under dawn light– was, persuasive.

The sooner I go in, the sooner I can go home and nurse this headache.

Headache. Naive self-convincing circles your head as you pull yourself to your feet like spinning stars from a goddamned cartoon. This is not a headache. Standing was fine a second ago, and the floor was fine a second ago, but the move from floor to feet fills your sinuses with sudden pressure and immediately the arena starts to swirl.

“C’mon twinkle toes, you’re– Y/n– shit–”

You’re not interested in where that sentence ends today and blessedly you don’t have to hear it because your ears have filled with cotton and you’re sinking back down to your knees. You’ve been congested like this before– it’ll pass in a minute or two, you know how it goes and you’re only embarrassed by the fact you were down so bad for your teammate this morning that you didn’t realize how your body had started to feel.

The vertigo eases somewhat when you rest your head on the ground, but Bakugou has cleared the empty room and already has his domineering hands all over you.

“Y/n? Y/n– do not close your eyes.”

“‘m not concussed, Kats.” But you know the explosive hero’s first fear isn’t exactly a head trauma. “You didn’t hurt me,” you add.

“That doesn’t narrow it down shitforbrains, if I didn’t hurt you then what’s wrong?” His aggressive tone doesn’t match his anxious hold though, and you melt a little when he kneels and pulls you into his lap.

Bakugou definitely doesn’t like the way your head seems too heavy for your neck and tilts himself back just enough for you to lean it against his chest. You look so fucking uncomfortable, scowling, eyes pinched closed. “What hurts?” He rasps as he moves to feel your temperature but his palms are sweating hard from a few quirk ignitions so he stalls, and lowers his forehead to yours instead. You’re soft where he touches you, warm in his hands.

You just need to sit, you don't need the #2 hero to cradle you in his arms like a fallen comrade on the battlefield. Although you don't complain. Your eyes squeeze shut harder as a tiny wave rocks you in the dark and then suddenly one ear releases. “I think I’m getting sick,” you breathe. Carmel in and relief out. “It’s my head–”

“Head hurts?”

“I’m just stuffed up, I– ” the other ear releases, “– just dizzy.”

Bakugou sits on his heels, perched. Should he pick you up? Who just gets dizzy, are you a fucking Victorian child? It’s terrifying to watch– you, his teammate, a capable hero, suddenly unable to stand.

But as the pressure behind your eyes levels out you can lift your head without discomfort. You can bring your arms up around Bakugou’s shoulders and settle your fingers in his hair. Bring him back down from where he’s tried to pull away.

Your foreheads bump again, “I’m okay.”

He growls, “I don’t believe you.”

So the hero takes you home. He makes sure you’re horizontal and goddamned tucked in before he slips from your front door and scares the shit out of you an hour later with a vice grip on some grocery bags and your apartment keys slipped around his middle finger. It’s almost romantic, the way he snaps at you to hold still while he dabs antiseptic on your scratches from sparring, or glares venom from behind the stove when you hobble to the kitchen to see what smells so good.

‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

When Kirishima lets himself in and you’re asleep on the kitchen floor, worry overrides his confusion.

You won’t pick up his calls, but he’s never missed a movie night and he’s not about to start today! He throws your front door open with his copy of your apartment key still in it and kicks off his gym crocs as loudly as he can manage so you can hear him come in. The last thing he wants is to startle you.

But you’re the one who nearly kills him when he slips through the genkan, arms full of snacks and catches sight of your slippered foot stretched out on the ground behind the corner of the kitchen wall.

He’s on his hands and knees faster than he can even take a full step, dropping glass soda bottles and soft melon bread alike from his arms, as he scrambles to where you must be lying lifeless on the other side of the entrance.

“Y/n–! Ah, huh.”

And you are, in a way, lifeless on the ground, but you’re breathing. And smiling? Curled up on the white tiles in front of the sink cabinet.

“Y/n?” Kirishima doesn’t wait to ponder, instead placing a hand on the side of your head to begin the checks for a vertebral injury. But you coo, something completely unintelligible, and you’re much too warm. You tilt your face into his palm and every inch of you is hotter than the next.

“Y/n? C’mon on back to me Y/n, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

Maybe it’s the chill of the floor or the addition of his other hand cupping your cheek, but your lashes heft apart just enough to register who it is trying to resuscitate you in the kitchen.

“Ei?”

Kirishima, always handy in a fire, has every hospital route an EMT could ever need memorized from all his volunteer work with the fire department and mentally scrolls through every single one as you try to form a sentence.

“you shouldn’t be here, Eiji, m’sick.”

“What?”

“flu,” you murmur and pull your hands to your side to try and rise. Kirishima doesn’t register anything not directly related to whether or not you’re suffering from blunt force trauma– except for the fact he could recall the exact date and time your dream drowsy smile falls and perks back up again now for the next fifty years unprompted.

“–tried to text you,” you manage as the redhead helps you sit up. The sentence comes out in gasps instead of coughs as you try to spare the air of any extra germs, “I can’t watch the movie tonight."

He laughs with pent up anxiety and simultaneous relief– he’s taken that charming fireman’s knee at your side and you wish in your flu-addled state that you’d stayed unconscious long enough for him to hoist you into his arms. Instead Kirishima places both of his big soft hands back around your face to brush away the dust and crumbs.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“‘got hungry,” you admit openly because you know it’ll make him smile, and with his face this close to yours you’ll be able to watch the skin around his eyes crinkle up too. “Then tired. I just needed to sit for a bit.”

His eyes do crinkle up. And his teeth bit at his lip like he’s trying not to be amused.

“Y/n, you are very sick. And very sweaty.” And the sweetheart, the biggest crush you’ve ever had, your closest friend, the man you dreamed of on the kitchen floor, asks if he can carry you to the bath.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Why are you breathing so hard? Shinsou is the only pro in the office that you can’t hide a goddamned thing from. Maybe it’s because he works primarily in the underground– observant, sneaky– that it’s obvious, they way you wobble on your feet when your eyes are closed too long, or the sudden effort it takes you just to climb the stairs.

Is he supposed to be able to focus on paperwork with you trying to catch your breath in a hallway when you think no one’s around? None of your sidekicks are brave enough to ask why you wore a mask to work today, but it’s summer and the air pollution gets bad enough that some of them have to too. Are they really all that stupid? Has he done the worst hiring job of any pro in the city?

“Shinsou,” you murmur across the now-empty end of day office and he whips around because god knows how many times you’ve tried to get his attention while he’s been off in space.

“Yeah boss?”

Your voice is rough with sick when you reply and it would be so fucking sexy if it didn’t remind him to be so anxious about your wellbeing. “I’ve told you not to call me that, you haven’t been my sidekick for years,” and then you’re smiling even as you hold back a cough, “makes me feel old.”

“You are older than me.”

“By a year!” You sputter and then your lungs take over, heaving and hacking so hard you have to double over your desk to steady your forehead against something. Shinsou’s on his feet immediately, navigating the office in sweats and his capture gear to get to you.

What happened? This morning it was just a tickle at the top of your throat but the aches sank from your head, down your spine, and flooded through your body just as quickly as the sun’s shadow crawls across a stone. Which is to say, all day long and all too slowly to realize you probably should have called in sick.

“Here.” A cool hand materializes on the back of your neck and you roll your head to the side to check what exactly has arrived for you. With his free hand Shinsou presses a paper water cup forward, which you’d love to take if you had the energy to pull your mask down.

“went to school together n’ everything,” you breathe.

“Boss, you should go home for the night, I’ll– I can finish this paperwork.”

By now the dark-eyed hero has sunk slowly into a crouch beside your chair and keeps a careful hand on your back to ensure you don’t slip to the floor sideways one way or the other. Thank god he sent the rookies home because stupid or otherwise, you'd have to be braindead not to notice this adoration that he can’t seem to get a handle on.

“Shinsou,” you murmur again, just as sexily as last time and he feels just as much if not more shame at how lovely it is to hear you call to him sweet and low, “I can’t get up.”

“What?”

That’s it though. There’s no trick or test. Shinsou has a fucked up sleep schedule from all his overnight patrols so he always stays in the office late, but you? You’ve been trying to rally for the last two hours and now you’ve used all your energy teasing a man whose eyes go bright every time you say his name. It serves you right, collapsing at your desk after using the last of your strength to squeeze as many Shinsous as you could into an evening.

“call me a taxi?”

He rises to his feet, “Will you even be able to get up your front steps?”

“sure hope so.”

“Do you feel nauseous?” He’s shuffling around the room now, plucking keys from hooks, and you watch him sideways with your head still resting in the day’s paperwork. “You gonna aspirate if I let you go home alone?”

“if god’s feeling extra silly”

He scoffs to hide the smile. Shinsou returns to your side to lay his faded denim jacket over your shoulders and then crouches again at eye level.

“Y/n,” he urges, and rests a hand to the back of your head to get your attention, “If I carry you downstairs, will you be able to hold onto me?”

Downstairs is a bluff. With you snug and mostly unconscious between his jacket and his back, Shinsou carries you home. Face full of your clothes, hair, quirk, whatever’s getting in his eyes, under the stars, and down back streets to avoid any publicity, the hero tries to walk gently enough that you don’t whimper from the impact of his steps.

“Thank you...Toshi,” you whisper just when he thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep and the big bad underground pro almost stumbles hard enough to fly.

[alxndryngs]

A Day Off

A/N: Since I am in desperate need of comfort/fluff, I came up with this. Enjoy!

———

Alcina’s favourite maid has a bad day.

———

Alcina, sitting in her atelier, was focused on her newest art piece. She only recently had gotten back into painting, and upon her new oil paints arriving, she had pushed work aside for once and hid away in her art room.

She even asked for her daughters to stay by themselves for the day, and put Bela in charge. Alcina wanted to dedicate herself to the work in process fully, without distractions.

The smell of fresh paint and sounds of birds chirping outside had fully consumed her, and hours passed without her noticing.

It was only when the feeling of hunger clawed at her throat that she noticed how much time had passed. Alcina called out, loud enough for the maids to hear.

“Yes, my lady.” Ingrid asked upon entering, her hands folded behind her back.

“Let y/n know I’m in desperate need of a glass of wine, and perhaps a small snack. She’ll know what to make me.”

Y/n had been her personal maid for almost three years at this point, having proven herself more than capable and worthy. Alcina took a liking to the girl, despite her wanting to admit it. She acted with grace, was humble and kind. Everything Alcina thought she herself was not, despite acting with grace.

The maid had left soon after, nodding before dismissal.

“Thank you, my-“ Alcina’s words ceased once her head turned and she was met by the image of Helena, and not y/n. “I asked for y/n, if I’m not mistaken.” Her tone now had a sharp edge to it, already feeling the annoyance bubbling up inside of her.

“Yes, my lady, I’m aware. But I was available, y/n isn’t feeling well today.”

Alcina paused, the paint covered brush slowly being lowered before placed down. It had surprised her that her little maid was feeling ill. In the years y/n had worked at the castle she might have fallen ill three times in total. Nothing could shake her, not even the freezing temperatures of the winter. Instead of freezing and sitting in front of her fireplace, she insisted on Alcina’s daughters receiving her firewood. ‘She didn’t need it’ she said.

“Well, send her the castle nurse. She will fix a remedy for whatever it is that is causing her to feel ill.” Alcina nodded, convinced this idea would be the solution. As the maid stood still, her mouth opening and closing to fish for an answer, Alcina snapped.

“Stop gawking at me like a dying bubble eye fish and do as I said! What am I paying you for?”

The maids mouth now stood agape in fear, and she stuttered for an answer. “I’m- my lady. I’m ever so sorry. A remedy from the nurse won’t help her. She’s just.. not feeling well mentally today.”

The maid paused, then adding in a panicked tone. “I apologise. I’m not sure if I was allowed to share that with you, Lady Dimitre-“

“I’m your employer, you’ll share with me when you last bled if I wish for you to.” Alcina growled, now standing and pushing the maid aside as she left her atelier.

As she strut through the castle, an anxious feeling overcame her. Y/n had always been collected and happy, and it seemed out of order for her to put work on hold. She had seen people die and burn because of Alcina’s wrath. People burning and screaming, being gutted, and managed to sleep like a baby. It confused Alcina.

She had slowed once entering the hallway leading towards the maidens rooms. Her heels thudded against the carpet, ceasing once having approached y/n’s room.

“Y/n?” Alcina called out, waiting for a response before gently knocking on the door with her knuckle. “Y/n, darling. I’ve heard that-“

Alcina stopped herself as the door opened. She fought the smile threatening to spread across her lips when y/n looked back at her.

“My lady.” She greeted, the same smile as always on the girls lips.

Alcina stood confused, licking her lips to moist them before pushing a smile back.

“Do you need me to wash your dress?”

Alcina’s brows furrowed “Pardon?”

“Your dress, my lady. It’s covered in paint.”

Alcina didn’t bother looking down at herself. Instead she shook her head and began to lean down, moving to step into the room as y/n stepped back to allow her to.

“I heard you were ill.” The stutter in y/n’s heart didn’t miss her. Alcina turned to look at her, waiting until she had closed the door before speaking again, her tone softer this time.

“You have always been by my side, ever since you came to Castle Dimitrescu. You’ve listened to me rant about my incompetent brother, complain over my business and daughters. You even dried my tears and blood for me. It is my turn to return the favour, my dear. Sit, and speak to me. What’s causing your little heart to beat this way?”

Alcina lowered herself onto the bed as she spoke. Y/n wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the kindness in Alcina’s eyes like there was now. It was inviting, comforting.

She obeyed, taking a seat next to her lady. It didn’t take long for the words to pool out of her, and all of a sudden, she had displayed the world to Alcina. Every single one of her concerns and problems laid splayed out before her, for her to look at and judge.

But instead, Alcina remained silent the whole time. Not once had she budged in to ask a question, even though there were multiple that burned on the tip of her tongue.

For comfort, Alcina removed the cream coloured handkerchief from her pocket. The Dimitrescu sigil was stitched into the corner.

Carefully, she had dried the maids tears. Her large hand cupped her cheek, and with the other she dried her tears.

Y/n cried, her face flush because of it and the embarrassment of crying in front of someone like Alcina. A wave of guilt overcame her for so freely unloading her problems onto Alcina.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems, I-“

“Shush.” Alcina snapped, her voice immediately softening after. For a moment she hesitated, but then gently pulled her into her lap. She had to lift her slightly to her height to give her a proper hug. Alcinas gloved fingers ran through her hair, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against her own chest.

“Don’t ever say that. You are not a burden, or burdening me by speaking about your feelings. Your feelings are more than valid, especially in topics like the ones you have shared with me just now. I am beyond proud that you shared your concerns. It takes courage to speak up about one’s concerns. And from what I can tell, this has bothered you for a long time.”

Alcina gently peeled the maid off of her, only enough so she could look at her. Y/n had leaned on her only after moments, quietly crying into the woman’s shoulder.

Her hands cupped her small face, and Alcina spoke quietly.

“I want you to know that I always will be someone you can trust, and confine in. I’m here, and I’m listening. Do you hear me?”

A small sob bubbled out of her, and she nodded. Y/n’s eyes closed as Alcina pressed the most gentle kiss to her forehead, letting it linger enough for both of them to have time to relish in it before pulling away.

Her lips had left behind a red mark which she would make sure to remove later on. But for now, she was returning the hug y/n had given her. She had thrown her arms around the older woman, holding on tight as her walls began to fully break down and crumble beneath them both.

Alcina closed her eyes, holding her close as she swayed them from side to side. Whispering sweet nothings calmed y/n after a few minutes, and Alcina made sure to show her appreciation of the girl for the rest of the day.

“I started a new art piece.. would you like to join me in the atelier for the rest of the day?” Alcina offered with a smile which intensified upon seeing y/n smile at the suggestion.

She wondered if the girl would notice that it was her Alcina was painting. Taking a stroll through the Dimitrescu garden at midnight, the moon shining down on her.

[rayroseu]

I drew this for @chernabogs story Elegy !!! The way they wrote this scene was just so tender and soft, I HAD TO DRAW IT ‼️‼️😭😭🙏🏻💖💖✨✨ it was such a perfect treat considering how the previous chapters was "coarse" with how the story handled Malleus poor coping skills with loss, I love reading and rereading the chapters lol

I wishhh i was eloquent enough to verbalize how much I loved reading it 😩😩😩 The repeated questions of am i ill or that ever repeating quote that love is for the lonely then it gradually changed to its meant to be or or the way in every chapter there is always an element of Malleus wanting to get to know Yuu WAGHHHDJDBIEB JUST THE YEARNING OF IT ALL!!!!

ALSO ALSO ONE THING I NOTICED.... all the chapter names relates to a lament for the dead, and i just think thats such a devastatingly beautiful detail to add considering that even until the ending Malleus will still lose Yuu from death and he'll be alone just like how he always fears JUTSGUEGKFGDKBCHFKN i know it ended on a happy note but the chapter titles makes me think of that quote where "there WAS love but it didnt change anything" or smth😭😭😭

also love how "Malleus in a crisis" was written as well,,, malleus was so on character omfggg I swear Ames' characterization of this guy makes me feel like Yana Toboso is ghostwriting with them/lh ☠️☠️ LIKE HELLOOO the way the story sways erratically between Malleus accepting Yuu made an impact of his life and Malleus wanting to go back to being alone where he didnt know anything at all and wasn't quite in distress about having relationships, thats soooooo GOOD 😭😭💐💖💖💖 granted i cried from it though aihskwbks

Dont even get me started on the buildup????!!! and conflict that was all resolved in the final chapter was AUGHHH THATS BEAUTIFUL IM SO GLAD I CAN READ 😭😭✨✨✨ And and the realization that Malleus fears is not death but them?? Beautiful!!!!! 😭🙏🏻✨✨💖💖 Cuz really its true throughout the whole story he was more stressed that he's so attached now XD AND AND I LOVE HOW ALL THE MESSAGES(?) FROM PREVIOUS CHAPTERS MAKES A CALLBACK TO THE FINAL CLIMAX LIKEEE "He can be bold. He can be brave. He can say this.“I was not ill that night, nor are you at fault for that. I was… I am afraid." PEAK LITERATURE!!!!!!! I LOVE FORESHADOWS AND REPEATING THEMES, MAKES ME GO YELL ABOUT IT ALL 😭😭😭💖💖💖💚💚 I love the kobold on the last part as well lol he is a promoted therapist now 😭✨✨✨

also going back to the way the chapter titles are meant to be lamenting for the dead, "A new memory for each day he outlives you. He can capture those memories, store them in a glass ball so that he may watch them whenever he pleases. You will never truly be gone if you can both make it work." HELPPP THE RESOLUTION,..... AUUGHH IT MAKES ME CRY AIHWLDHOSHSK 😭😭😭💖💚💚

anyways my favorite part always ehehe grim fishing with lilia✨✨✨🥺🥺 and malleus having the naive expectation that first kiss is magical and wanting to test it out again skgixgsk😂

I love the part where Meleanor would raise an objection the moment its a human hes been contemplating about, this story just made me think.... LMAO MALLEUS IF MELEANOR SAW YOU LIKE THIS,,,, XD i feel like she'll tell you that if you fear living alone, just go out first and damned the other person about it instead JSKHDKDHHK i think it was really tragic how Lilia seemed to be set on dying for Meleanor only for the tables to turn ☠️

yes i did reference that acheswan dance from honkai star rail on lilinor part lol

[kira-fluff]

reaction to finding out you have a chronic disease | fem!reader x haikyuu!!

this idea popped into my head in the shower. shower thoughts are the best. as a chronically ill person such as myself (mentally and physically, LOL!) i felt maybe I was a little qualified to write this. these are all diseases i experience! i can def write some that i am not diagnosed with :) i'm a biology nerd, so i love learning new things, especially about diseases! some of these are more serious than others. i tried to keep the disease symptoms/descriptions general so it can appeal to more diagnoses (for example, nosebleeds are indicative of several different diseases) that way more people can feel represented by what i write!

‼️warnings: mentions of blood, nekoma team being dorks, seizures, WAY too many ellipses (sorry I just love them), pointless bantering (oikawa), dramatic af, osamu described as "caked-up" (sorry not sorry), railing on atsumu for shits and giggles, deep hatred of the word moist

want to see a different haikyuu character's reaction? request here! also, if you want to read a specific disease represented, i can see if i can put it in there too :)

✿ kuroo tetsuro "hey when do you want to- OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!" blood dripped from your nose onto the gymnasium floor. "oh. another nosebleed. my bad, I'll clean that up..." you said apathetically. "hey, this is sort of a big deal, ya know? shit... yaku, I need a towel or something!" he shouted. they really weren't anything serious. ever since you were little, you had frequent nosebleeds. your mom wrote it all off as the cold weather (even in summer), so it wasn't really that big of a deal to you either (until a few doctor visits later). still, the apathy you felt toward your predicament remained. yamamoto had already rushed over at his captain's call. "does she need an ice pack, too? fuck, I don't know what to do...." "aren't you supposed to tilt your head up?" one member asked. "no, no i think you're supposed to tilt your head down...." another muttered. "GUYS, GUYS I GOT IT. GOOGLE SAYS TO 'sit down and tilt your head forward, pinching the top part of your nose above the nostrils for like, 10 to 15 minutes.'" lev sat back proudly, phone in hand. "can't believe you were smart enough to look that up..." kenma whispered under his breath. "hey, hey, look at me. you still with us?" kuroo said, a hand on either side of your face. despite the towel against your nose, you couldn't help but laugh. "oh my god, guys! it's not like I'm dying! this happens all the time." "but that's not...normal. did you ever get it checked out?" kuroo stared at you inquisitively, his brow raised. his fellow teammates nodded. you sighed. "look, unless there's a lot of excessive gushing or anything like that, they said i should be okay. yes there's a whole disease behind it all with a long-ass name that no one can pronounce and yes there are sometimes other symptoms that could result in death, but I'm totally fine, okay? I'm perfectly healthy!" "you poor, fragile angel..." lev said, a hand on his chest, distraught. "that... does NOT make me feel more relieved. at all. in fact, I'm more worried. should we go to the hospital? that one looked a little... gush-y...." kuroo said, pacing back and forth before setting his eyes back on you. removing the towel from your nose, you shook your head. "no. look, bleeding nose already gone, see? I'm not going to the hospital. I'm completely fine. relax, kuroo." kuroo stared at you for another moment, taking in your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort. at last, he sighed. "ok. fine. I concede. but if you ever feel the littlest bit unwell, tell me or one of us, okay?" after your agreement, and several more minutes of doting from both your boyfriend and all the other team members, you at last parted ways. as you got out of the shower that night, your phone lit up with a notification. tetsu 💕 [11:23pm]: I'm serious about what I said back there. please talk to me when you aren't feeling good. you mean so much to me that I can't imagine what life would be like without you. sleep well, babe. love you.

✿ osamu miya "damn are you o-- OKAY, YEAH, NO. SHE'S NOT OKAY." it was your average day as a supportive, amazing, fantastic girlfriend watching your iconic, sexy, hot, caked-up boyfriend play volleyball with his piss-haired twin and the rest of the team of inarizaki. unfortunately for you (and the entire volleyball team), inarizaki had a recent issue with their air conditioning units. even more unfortunate was the fact that the fans in the gymnasium were practically there for decoration, that's how useless they were. despite it being late march (still quite cool outside), the players and spectators were drenched in sweat. still, you weren't about to let a little (lot) bit of sweat deter you from cheering for your mans! so, you remained in the stands, cheering as loudly as you could (except for the times when you couldn't because atsumu was once again on his I'm About To Serve Power Trip). it was finally nearing the end of the game, and thank GOD it was because you were starting to feel reaaalllly light-headed. at the final score of the match, you stood up, but oh, was that a mistake. suddenly, you legs started shaking. the lights suddenly seemed to dim down and black spots were popping up in your vision. maaaaybe you should sit back down. wait. where is "back down"? it suddenly occurred to you that at this point, you couldn't see anything. beginning to panic, you started reaching out to find something to hold onto, thankfully finding the stair railing of the bleachers in your grasp. slowly, you blindly fumbled your way down the steps of what you hoped were the bleachers steps. you heard someone shout something along the lines of, "you good?" you were far too panicked and far too focused to give a reply. don't fall down. don't fall down. don't faint. don't pass out. you chanted in your head like a mantra. you heard the squeak of shoes against the ground and voices talking back and forth around you when suddenly a steady hand grabbed ahold of you just above your elbow. guess that was all you needed before your consciousness flickered, then extinguished.

-

"....cold like ice...." "...pale as hell...." you could only hear snippets of sentences, and your eyelids felt heavy. "....have something....with sugar, preferably...." when you finally opened your eyes, you were no longer in the gym, but in inarizaki's nurse's office. "hey..." you turned, now noticing the other occupant of the otherwise empty room. "'samu... did I faint again?" his eyebrows rose. "again? like, you've done this before?" "yeah. happens a lot. 's fine though. was a little scary back there for a minute, though." "damn, I'll say. I've never seen someone so pale. and sweaty. and that's saying something, cuz post-practice 'tsumu is disgustingly moist." "'samu, I love you, but never say that fucking word again." "what, moist?" you cringed, grabbing at your ears, "ugh, yes! I'm already dying here and now you're nailing the final mark in the coffin." osamu gave his signature half-smile. "I thought you said you were fine?" you scoffed, "that was just to make you feel better. I'm gonna need lots of cuddles tonight to wave off my near-death experience." he let out a light-hearted laugh. "okay. plenty of that for you regardless of whether you're on death's door or not." he said, giving you a small peck. you pursed your lips. "I need you right now, though." his face split in a full grin as he slid next to you on the small bed. "anything for you darlin'."

✿ oikawa toru "please... please be okay..." you had been enjoying your regular weekday study session. it always went as follows: meet up after class, head off to aoba johsai's library, study (and perhaps get slightly off-topic over some vending machine snacks and drinks), and at last, go to volleyball practice (perks of being a manager!). "ok, ok, we should probably finally look at what we're supposed to know for our next english exam," oikawa said, still in between chuckles. "but toru... i can't go on without a drink..." you clutched your throat dramatically. "must... have.... beverage.... dying of.... thirst!" oikawa laughed again, "geez, fine!" he said, attempting to sound annoyed by your request (and failing miserably). "I'll go grab us something to drink. on me." he winked. "wow. what a gentleman. you really spare no expense, spoiling me with luxurious drinks from the beverage box of wonders! oh how lucky I am to have such a supportive boyfriend..." you leaned back on your chair, drying a fake tear of gratitude, while simultaneously stifling a giggle. "damn, ok. fork out the yen, then, babe." "nooooo~~~ I was kidding! I'm sorry you're the best ever in the whole wide world~~~ my little piglet oinkawa~" "ok now you're paying for my drink too." "I'm sorry!!!! I won't call you oinkawa ever again." "thank you-" "to your face." after at least 15 minutes of more bickering (and no studying) oikawa was off to the so-called beverage box of wonders, also known as a shitty-ass vending machine that was probably last refurbished in the '90s. oikawa was still laughing to himself as he rounded the corner to the library, drinks in his arms. "hey babe, are you finally studying?" he smirked, finally nearing your small alcoved study area.

- thud, thud. the long-forgotten drinks fell to the floor as oikawa rushed over to you. there you convulsed on the ground, your eyes white and pupil-less, and your mouth foaming, turning a slight twinge of pink. you let out small grunts, completely unresponsive. "oh my god, oh my god, hey, hey listen to me." oikawa was already in full-fledged panic mode, tapping your face with his hand. "oh my god, SOME PLEASE HELP HER!" the few left in the library looked over at oikawa, then at you, before beginning to run about. one was on their phone speaking to a 911 operator, another rushed out of the room. one kneeled alongside oikawa, checking helplessly for a pulse. "protect her head." a girl read out from her phone. oikawa immediately shed his jacket, placing it under your head which was hitting the ground rapidly to the incongruent rhythm of your convulsions. "check her bag, does she have any meds?" "SHE'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND I THINK I'D KNOW IF SHE HAD MEDS!" oikawa shouted. he didn't mean to snap, but he felt so useless. were you hiding this from him? how did he not know you had seizures? were they always this bad? despite what he'd told the unnamed student, oikawa, jumped up, grabbing your bag and nearly ripping the zipper with the force he'd opened it with. no medication. "no meds." he said, quieter this time. a hand rested on his shoulder. "it's gonna be okay, man. look, she stopped." oikawa whipped his head over to you, chastising himself for removing his eyes from you for even a second. you were still breathing, but it was like you were in a deep slumber. by the time the EMTs arrived, however, you'd begun blinking your eyes lazily at your surroundings.

- "hey oikawa." you said, smiling. oikawa said nothing in return, his head in his hands. you sat there for a moment, taking in your surroundings. "wait a minute, where am i?" you felt a tickling inside your nose. at the touch of your hand, you realized you had a breathing tube hooked up you. another glance around the sterile hospital room showed your heart rate monitor and other cords wrapped up around the hospital bed. you laughed, "...and what's all this stuff on me?" "you had a seizure." oikawa said sharply, though not unkind. you stared at him once more in disbelief. "...really?" "yeah. I came back from getting our drinks when...when I found you lying on the ground, shaking. the doctor says you bit your tongue, which explains why the foam that was coming out of your mouth was pink. they want to do an MRI on you." "oh." you gazed down, then met his eyes again. "you... had to deal with that all by yourself?" "other people in the library helped me... though I don't think I was the nicest guy to be around. its sort of all of a blur." you smiled, "for me, too. I can barely remember what we were talking about before I woke up." oikawa's eyes widened, "really?" "yeah... but I think I'll be okay, as long as you're here." "this hasn't happened before, has it?" "no, not really. I mean, I've always gotten light-headed easily, which is sort of how I felt before I, ya know... went down... but never like that. I don't think. then again, if I wasn't here in a hospital bed, I think I would've just thought I fell asleep or something. it just feels like I took a long nap. still kind of tired, honestly." oikawa shook his head. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." "oikawa, seriously. it's gonna be okay. I'm fine. nothing bad happened, right? I didn't die." "BUT YOU COULD'VE!" he shouted. "...you could've.." he said again in a whisper. suddenly, he got up. leaning over the hospital bed, he pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "I just... I don't want to see you suffering. I don't want you to get hurt." "but you were there." "but what if I wasn't?" "but you were." you slid your hand over his own. "oikawa, it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm a little scared, too, but... I know we'll figure something out, okay?" he let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, "why does it feel like I was the one who had the seizure? some boyfriend I am, making you feel worse." "oikawa shush." you placed you index finger over his lips. "you're not allowed to talk about yourself in that way in my presence." he rolled his eyes, but his dimples popped out in a wary smile. "you're amazing, you know that?" you imitated deep-thought, your finger on your chin. "hmm... no, doesn't ring a bell." a full grin bloomed across his face now. "then I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you."

a/n: romanticize the source of your medical bills girlies 💕 it works wonders

[itssideria]

re: Martyrs, Palestine, Islam, and the 'death cult'

Since the start of the Gazan genocide, I have seen dozens of posts and speeches along the line of "Those crazy Palestine supporters! Those crazy Palestinians! They are so obsessed with death! They celebrate death, isn't that just disgusting? Isn't it disgusting?" In the wake of Aaron Bushnell's passing, such statements are becoming more frequent. They now point to a perceived celebration of suicide—"Those Palestine supporters and their glorification of self-harm! How could you ever stand with such a cause? The entire culture glorifies death!"

This post isn't meant to argue with the people saying this. For a group that is supposedly so anti-death, you see them constantly equivocate on genocide. Instead, I'm hoping to reach those who might have questions—and they are fair questions! Why are the killed Palestinians martyrs, rather than victims? Why do Palestine's supporters hold this as a badge of honour? Why are Palestinians, and Muslims at large, 'so obsessed with death'?

Hello! I am your local non-Palestinian Muslim! Hopefully you'll find some answers here.

In the context of the genocide—and, let's be real, the last 75 years of Israel's existence—the word 'martyr' is a translation of the Arabic word shaheed. 'Shaheed' comes from 'shahad', the verb 'to witness'—to witness, because in Islam, their status is that of eternal reward. They witness heaven before anyone else. Unlike a non-martyr, whose soul remains buried until the Day of Judgement, a shaheed's reward is immediate and indisputable—heaven, eternally, no matter what.

You may then wonder what exactly being a martyr encompasses. The Western image of the martyr is often centred on war—someone killed in battle, holding a gun or a sword. With this image, it is easy to make the leap that Islam therefore rewards war and conquest: this is how you get the whole 'Muslims are violent and want to kill everyone in jihad' bullshit. (And FYI, jihad likely does not mean what you think it means, but whatever. More on that in a bit.)

However, that is just blatantly untrue! Martyrdom in Islam can include death on the battlefield when protecting a just cause, yes. Martyrdom in Islam also includes death by plague (COVID, influenza), death by drowning, crushing, or fire (natural disaster, unsafe housing, travelling), death by internal disease (cancer, infection), death in childbirth, and, finally, death when protecting one's family or property from an oppressor.

That last one seems familiar, I hope.

Why these specific instances? Well, one, because we have them recorded in reliable hadith. But also because these individuals die in a state of jihad—literally, in a state of great effort. Like martyrdom, jihad can encompass fighting in some war somewhere, but often, just means exerting effort to do something that pleases God.

And these people? They die in the process of exerting massive effort to pursue a good cause: to protect their loved ones. To become well after illness. To travel toward safety. To survive. Shuhada (the plural of shaheed) have died exerting the greatest effort of all, and for this, they are beloved to God. They attain heaven immediately. They are forgiven for whatever sins they may have incurred.

For Muslims and Palestinians, this invocation of martyrdom isn't some celebration of death. In a just world, zero Palestinians die. But this world is unjust, and thousands are still dying. The invocation of martyrdom, therefore, is an expression of hope, of resilience, of comfort to those still living: yes, they have died, but they have died in a state of jihad. Yes, they have died, but they are up there in heaven, they are happy, they are safe again. To a parent who has lost a child, to a sibling who has lost a sibling, to people with dead friends, this insistence on martyrdom is a comfort in the midst of a massive, unending grief. They did not die a victim, they died a witness—and insha'allah, they will receive their reward. To decree someone a shaheed is to honour them. It doesn't celebrate their death, but rather affirms the circumstances of that death, and celebrates the subsequent reward.

TL;DR: Martyrs are martyrs because in Islamic scripture, they have died fighting oppression. Martyrdom is a form of death that guarantees heaven, and for those who have lost loved ones, it is a comfort and hope that their loved ones are receiving the ultimate reward. Stop being fucking rude to Palestinians.

Sources: who is classified as a martyr?, wikipedia page on shahid

[criminalamnesia]

Could I request a harwin x Targaryen reader? Like she’s the twin or sister of Rhaenyra and is somewhat sickly/quiet and never got out much until Aegon’s name day, so harwin sees her and its love at first sight?? I’m just dying for harwin fluff

I love this request! You guys honestly have the best ideas. I hope this alright!

Don’t Be A Stranger

warnings: targaryen!f!reader, reader is Rhaenyra’s twin, mentions of illness, not proofread

summary: you’re finally allowed out of the keep for Aegon’s name day hunt.

author’s note: let me know if you guys want a Harwin’s POV of this 👀

You had been a prisoner of the red keep since your birth. Perhaps it was some cruel stroke of fate- some god laughing from high above as he cursed your family with another ill-fated child.

'At least you lived,' Rhaenyra told you once, holding your hand with the lightest of touches- scared you would break if even one breath touched your fragile skin.

Was this living? It couldn't be.

Day in and day out, confined to your bed. Your quarters. Perhaps the corridor, if you felt up to it. You were a prisoner, yes. A prisoner in your sickly body, in your frail bones and pale skin.

You longed to see the world. You dove headfirst into history- the seven kingdoms, Old Valryia, lords and ladies of the realm- anything and everything you could get your hands on to imagine a world outside of that damned bed.

It was enough, until it wasn't. You begged Rhaenyra to sneak you out. Begged her to help you live. She refused.

The realm knew your elder twin as 'The Realm's Delight'. They knew you as 'The Ghost Princess'. You thought the name was suitable, even if your sister and your father and anyone who dared to get close tried to comfort you about it.

There was nothing to comfort. You had tired of comforting. You wanted to get out and see something other than the stone walls of the keep before you lost your mind along with your health.

And so, you formulated a plan.

You had seen Alicent a few times throughout your years. She had seemed kind, until she had wronged Rhaenyra- but there was not much you could do about that.

However you felt about Alicent, you could not deny that you were grateful for her actions at this moment.

"Aegon's name day is coming up," Rhaenyra told you one day, sitting in her usual spot on the side of your bed. Her thumb traced little circles onto the back of your hand. "There's to be a big hunt in honor of it. Bit ridiculous, if you ask me."

You snorted, knowing very well that your and Rhaenyra's name day was also a famously extravagant affair- even if you could not join the festivities.

"When's the hunt?" You asked her.

"A fortnight. Preparations have begun now, of course. The keep is quite mad at the moment. Be glad you do not have to experience it."

You frowned slightly at her statement, glancing towards the lone window in your room.

"Apologies, sister, I did not mean-"

"It's alright, Rhaenyra. I understood." You turned back to look at her, nodding your head in reassurance. She gave your hand a light squeeze.

Although she was still annoyingly cautious around you, Rhaenyra had realized that over the years, you would not break at the slightest touch. So, she had stopped fretting over the smallest of brushes of skin. Mostly. You'd take what you could get.

"The Maester says I'm doing much better," you commented, watching your twin's face as you spoke. "Perhaps I will be allowed to join everyone for the occasion."

Rhaenyra's eyebrows rose in surprise, pulling her hand from yours. "I do not know if that is a good idea. We're to ride to the Godswood, and it can be quite a bumpy journey-"

"I am not glass, Rhaenyra. I will not break at the slightest jostle."

"I know, I just worry-"

"You and everyone else," you huffed, cutting her off. She frowned, eyebrows furrowing as she looked at you.

"Is this something you really want to do? These hunts are famously boring. You will be forced to sit and listen to the ladies of the court complain and throw insults disguised as compliments at one another."

"I want nothing more," you smiled, to which Rhaenyra shook her head.

"Please, sister. Tell me truthfully."

"Yes. I long to leave these walls, even if my first breath outside is my last."

"That was quite dramatic," Rhaenyra spoke after a moment. "You should be a poet."

"I've pondered that thought," you told her, to which she laughed.

The two of you fell silent, Rhaenyra looking at you with a conflicted expression. You could not tell what she was thinking, and you were almost positive she was going to tell you that it was too risky.

But then she said, “I’ll speak to father.”

Your eyebrows lifted, eyes lighting up in glee and excitement. “You will?”

Your sister nodded her head, lips spreading into a small smile at your glee. “Of course. I cannot guarantee what he will say, but I will fight for you.”

“Thank you, Rhaenyra. I am in your debt,” you told her, reaching forward to grasp one of her hands. She looked down at your fingers as they intertwined.

“Nonsense. I am simply doing what you would do for me should the roles be reversed.” Rhaenyra said, and you hummed.

She gave your hand a light squeeze before pulling her’s from your grasp, leaning forward to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“I will go speak to father now. I’m to see him about a few matters anyhow. I will et you know as soon as I can.”

You nodded as you watched her stand. “Thank you, sister.”

She nodded before turning and leaving. When the door shut behind her, you closed your eyes tightly and prayed to whatever god was listening that your father would say yes.

—

Viserys had said no.

Rhaenyra had argued with him for an hour over the matter after she left you, but he had not budged. He could not bear to lose another child, he said. Rhaenyra had scoffed.

She had not told you of your father’s words. As a matter of fact, she did not return to your quarters at all after seeing your father. She didn’t return the next day, either. Or the next.

You had been confused, but you knew what Rhaenyra’s absence had to have meant. Viserys had said no, and she was too busy preparing for the hunt to tell you the news. She probably didn’t want to, anyways. She had always hated seeing you upset.

A week after Rhaenyra had said she would speak to Viserys on the matter, she returned with a grand smile. She practically burst into your quarters, the wooden door slamming into the stone wall it attached to.

“He said yes!” She cried, rushing to your bedside. “Apologies for being absent, I was quite taken with preparations and arguing with our father–” she spoke fast, the words fighting to leave her tongue. “But he finally acquiesced. You are to join us on the hunt, as long as the maesters say you are fit to do so.”

“Oh, thank you Rhaenyra!” You squealed, leaning forward to throw your arms around her in an embrace. Slightly shocked, it took Rhaenyra a few seconds to hug you back.

“Of course. I look forward to having you by my side. I will not have to field the questions of the ladies by my lonesome,” she grinned at you as she pulled back, and you laughed.

“I cannot wait to be pestered with questions.”

“Oh, dear sister,” Rhaenyra sighed with an air of knowing, tucking a strand of your silver hair behind your ear. “You will regret saying that.”

—

After Rhaenyra had shared the news with you, you had been the happiest you had ever been. The servants who tended to you noticed– and they were glad to see such an upbeat mood from you.

The maesters had quickly cleared you for travel, much to your delight. They would come along for the journey at the King’s request, but you did not mind. At least you were being allowed to leave.

Like Rhaenyra said, the keep was quite mad with preparation, especially so close to the date of departure. Numerous servants entered and exited your quarters throughout the days, showing you dresses and packing needed belongings into chests to bring along. You quite liked all the attention. It was a nice change of pace.

When the day came to leave, you were practically bouncing in your bed. Servants came in to help you from your bed, dressing you in a pretty but simple leather dress with black embroidery. You were beaming the entire time.

Rhaenyra came in shortly after, wearing an almost exact copy of your own attire. The embroidery of her ensemble was red, however. She smiled at you, taking you in.

“You look amazing. How are you feeling?” She asked, coming to your side to help you walk.

“I’m fine,” you waved her hand away as you moved for the door. You wobbled slightly, but stayed afoot. Rhaenyra watched you silently before joining you once more, giving you your independence, but ready to help should you need it.

The pair of you made your way slowly out of your room and down the corridor, towards the direction of the courtyard. You passed numerous servants and guards who looked surprised to see you out and about, and you gave each and every one of them a small nod.

When you reached the courtyard, more stares found you. You ignored them as you made your way towards the coach, Rhaenyra following close behind.

“Do you need help to get up?” Your sister asked. You shook your head as you began to climb the steps to the coach. You made it up with only a small wobble, ducking inside to take a seat on one of the cushioned benches. Rhaenyra entered behind you, taking the seat next to you. She smiled widely.

“I’m so glad you’re coming with us. This is going to be more bearable now.” She told you, to which you laughed.

“That’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while,” Viserys’ voice chimed as he ducked inside the coach to join you. Alicent followed behind, Aegon babbling in her arms.

You smiled at your father, grateful he had said yes. He took a seat across from you and Rhaenyra, joy obvious in his expression as he gazed upon his two daughters.

“You two look lovely. It’s good to see you together, smiling.”

“All because of your generosity, dear husband,” Alicent chimed in, settling in beside Viserys.

“I would not say that–” he began, but you swiftly interrupted.

“Yes, thank you father. I appreciate your decision.”

He looked from Alicent to you, nodding his head. “Of course.”

The coach fell silent save for little Aegon’s babbling, and although it was slightly awkward, you would not have traded the moment for the world.

Moments later, the coach began its journey, and you could barely contain your excitement. Viserys and Alicent were speaking about something, but you paid them no mind as you glued your eyes to the small window in the side of the coach.

As Rhaenyra had said weeks ago, the journey was a bit bumpy. You could feel your family watching you intently throughout the ride, but you paid them no mind. You were fine, and even if you weren’t, there was nothing that was going to stop you from going through with this.

When you finally made it to the campsite, you were ecstatic. You could hear all the clamor outside, and it excited you. Rhaenyra looked at you with an amused expression, teasing you, but you ignored her.

The coach rolled to a stop and you sprang from your seat.

“Just wait, dear sister,” she spoke into your ear as she moved to stand beside you. “Father and the Queen will go first. Then you and I.”

You nodded, wishing Viserys and Alicent would put some more haste into their movements. The door to the coach swung open as a servant laid a step stool before it. Viserys gave you a smile as he passed, working his way to the ground with a small huff. Alicent followed, Aegon in her grasp. She was much more graceful.

Rhaenyra moved next, glancing at you from over her shoulder. “Ready?”

You nodded, and she turned her back to you as she hopped down from the coach. You stepped out after her, and it was like the entire camp stopped.

Eyes were all on you stepped onto the grass. Rhaenyra stood beside you, one of her hands grabbing yours protectively.

“Alright?” She asked you quietly, and you nodded.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, taking everything in. People slowly started to resume their tasks as the shock of seeing you wore off. Perhaps the news of your incoming presence had not been widely known.

Rhaenyra tugged lightly at your hand as she made to move, and you raised a foot to follow her, but then your eyes met his.

A man, across the field, was staring at you. Not hungrily. Not in disgust. In something you couldn’t quite place.

He was tall with a large build and a dazzling smile. He was smiling at you, you realized. You looked him up and down, noting his curly hair; his unshaven face; his attire. A house sigil you suddenly could not recall adorned his tunic.

“Rhaenyra,” you called to her, not taking your eyes from the man. “Who is that?”

Rhaenyra turned to follow your gaze, lips breaking into a wide grin as she saw the man you were fascinated with.

“Ser Harwin Strong, of House Strong. I am surprised you did not recognize the sigil, sister.” She was teasing you, you realized.

“No, I did. I just…” you trailed off, still looking in his direction. He nodded to you from, and you felt your cheeks heat as you finally ripped your gaze from his.

“Should I expect to be attending your wedding at the end of this hunt?” Rhaenyra continued and you rolled your eyes before moving in the direction your father and Alicent had gone.

“Nonsense. I do not even know him.” You told her as she fell into step beside you.

“But you would like to, would you not?” Your sister poked your side lightly. You swatted her hand away with no force.

You said nothing more, and Rhaenyra took your silence as an end to the conversation.

—

Rhaenyra had been right.

The ladies of the court were boring.

You were situated in a plush chair (brought specially for you) beside Rhaenyra as the pair of you listened to gossip and subtle criticisms.

You had thought the ladies would jump at the chance to pester you with questions, but it was almost as if you weren’t even there. They paid you little mind, opting to pester Rhaenyra instead. Perhaps it was because they were afraid that if they even acknowledged you, you would break.

“Ladies,” a man spoke up as he moved to join the group. You looked up to see another member of house Strong, judging by the sigil on his tunic. Not Harwin– perhaps a cousin? A brother? Judging by the image of Harwin still plastered in your mind, they looked similar. They had to be related.

“Mind if I join?” He asked, soft spoken. The ladies nodded, going back to their gossips as the man made his way to an empty chair.

“Larys Strong,” Rhaenyra leaned over to whisper in your ear as if reading your mind. “Harwin’s brother.”

You looked at the man curiously, now obviously seeing the resemblance. Larys met your gaze with a small smile.

“You must be the other Princess. It is nice to make your acquaintance. I certainly see the resemblance.” He gestured between you and Rhaenyra.

The ladies had stopped talking now, opting to listen to you and Larys.

You gave a kind, small laugh. “Of course. It’s a pleasure, Lord Strong.”

“Oh, I am not a lord, Princess. That title is my father’s.”

You nodded. “My apologies.”

“None needed,” he replied, eyes watching you intently. “It is quite a surprise to see you here. Many were starting to believe you were a myth.”

You cocked an eyebrow is surprise. Rhaenyra’s hand fell atop one of yours. “Is that so?” You questioned. Larys nodded.

“Yes, Princess. There were many whispers that you had died and the King would not admit it. Whispers that you were part dragon, and that is why you were not allowed out of the keep.”

“That’s enough of that,” Rhaenyra spoke, her tone firm. “We need not speak of whispers and stories. My sister is alive and well, right next to me.”

“Of course, Princess,” Larys nodded. He was still looking at you. “You and I are more alike than one would think, Princess. Both younger siblings. Both hidden away. Both a source of shame–”

“I think I should like to get some air,” you announced, standing from your chair. Rhaenyra rose to your side without a word, but you shook your head.

“Alone, please,” you whispered to her, and she reluctantly nodded as she lowered herself back into her chair.

All eyes watched you as you made your way out of the tent, into the darkening sky. The lowering sun cast a beautiful variety of colors over the horizon. Pinks and oranges and yellows you swore you had never seen before. You tilted your head back, staring up at the sky and inhaling deeply.

You did not know why Larys’ words had bothered you so much. You knew you weren’t purposefully hidden away, that you weren’t a source of shame for your family– or were you?

The House of the Dragon needed to present a strong front. A sick, weak Princess did not exactly aid in that image.

You closed your eyes, exhaustion from the day creeping into your limbs. You fought to keep it at bay. Should you show even the smallest hint of fatigue, your father would whisk you back to the keep and never set you free again.

“Princess?”

A man’s voice, deep and warm and concerned. You opened your eyes, lowering your gaze from the sky. Harwin Strong was approaching you, brows scrunched together in worry.

“Are you alright?” He questioned and you nodded.

“Of course. Just getting some air.” You watched him as he came to a stop in front of you. He was handsomer up close, you thought. Deep brown eyes and messy hair.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Lord…?” You trailed off, knowing full well who he was thanks to Rhaenyra’s earlier words.

“Ser Harwin Strong, Princess.” He told you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Ser Harwin, of course,” you nodded. “I just met your brother. Interesting, to say the least.”

Harwin sighed. “Apologies for him, Princess. He has… a certain way with words.”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “He certainly does. Tell me, Ser. Did you believe me to be part dragon before today?”

Harwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. “Of course not, Princess.”

“And did you think I was dead, and my family was lying about health?”

“No, Princess.” He confirmed, and you nodded.

“Even if you did, I doubt you would say so.” You gave a humorless laugh, but he shook his head.

“I would tell you the truth, Princess.”

“Even if it meant you’d hang?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Why?”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, his tongue flitting out to wet his lips as he pondered his words.

“Because you deserve the truth.”

You went quiet for a moment, averting your eyes back to the beautiful sky. Harwin’s gaze remained on you.

“Even if you were part dragon,” he spoke. “You would still be the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”

You looked back at him, a blush painting your cheeks pink as you searched for a hint of a lie in his expression. You found none.

When you didn’t say anything, he continued.

“Rhaenyra speaks of you, you know. To anyone who will listen. She’s told me of you more than once.”

“When do you speak to Rhaenyra?” You asked in surprise.

“It makes sense she would not tell you of such trivial matters,” he said. “I guard her from time to time.”

You nodded. That made sense. You knew you were guarded at all times, even if you rarely left your chambers. Of course Rhaenyra would be, too. Probably more so than you.

“Good things, I hope?” You asked, and Harwin grinned.

“Of course, Princess.”

“Good,” you smiled. “If she ever speaks bad about me, you tell me about it.”

He laughed at that, and you closed your eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit you once more.

“Princess?” Harwin’s voice was full of concern again as he reached a hand out to lightly touch your arm. “Are you alright?”

“Tired, Ser.” You inhaled deeply, trying to overcome the small feeling of nausea rising in your stomach.

“Should I fetch a maester?” Harwin asked, but you shook your head. You opened your eyes, reaching for his forearm as you slumped slightly. He supported you weight immediately, an arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright.

“I don’t need a maester. If you would just help me to my tent, that would be appreciated.”

“Of course, Princess. Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, I can walk,” you assured him. He nodded without question as the pair of you started in the direction of your tent.

“Thank you for this, Ser Harwin.”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You walked the rest of the way in silence, thankful for the darkness filling the camp to make your walk less obvious.

When you reached your tent, Harwin helped you inside and to the comfortable cot. He placed you gently onto it, taking a step back as he waited to see if you needed anything else.

“I believe I can take it from here, Ser. Once again, I thank you for this.” You looked at him, your expression sincere.

“No thanks needed, Princess. Whatever you need, I am here.”

You have a small nod as silence fell between the pair of you. After a moment, you spoke again.

“If you don’t mind Ser… please keep this between us. My father would–”

“No worries, Princess. I will take this to the grave if I must.” He gave you a dazzling grin, and it almost pained you to send him away.

He bid you goodnight before slipping out of the tent, and you watched him go, hoping you would see him again soon.

[posallys]

all right here is my word vomit live watch

IMMEDIATELY i am slapped in the face by toby stephens as poseidon i am FERAL

THE LUKE AND PERCY PARALLEL “LOOK, YOU DIDN’T WANT TO BE A HALFBLOOD” OH MY FUCKING GOD

THE MISSING LUKE AND PERCY TRAINING SCENES OH DEAR LORD THANK YOU THANK YOU

“When am i ever going to use this” percy i LOVE YOU

“So you can use them against your opponent” OH BOY

Finally some action i love a good sword fight

But where's annabeths necklace imma kill people

Ooh some god strength okay okay tasty

HELL YEAH POSEIDON POWERS FUCK HIS SHIT UPPPPPP 

“I WARNED YOU. IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL, YOU'LL FIND OUT WHO I AM” OH I LOVE THE ENERGY YESSSS FUCK YEAH

GO OFFF PERCY 

“AND YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST A KID”

Ares didn't curse him i hate it here

OH WHAT IS THAT VOICE

OH MY GOD THE CABIN SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

this can go one of two ways

“Violent seismic activity” MMM YUMMY

UH HULLO THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED ALECTO!???

I lied there was a secret 3rd way this could have gone and it happened 

OOP THERE’S THE NECKLACE

“Where's the glory in that” wow tell me you don't understand Percy's character without telling me you don't understand Percy's character 

“I don't have an appointment” THATS SO FUCKING ICONIC OF HIM

Wait i kind of fuck with this olympus i was picture all white and pristine but this FUCKS

“SHOULDN'T THEY BE JUST AS AFRAID OF US AS WE ARE OF THEM” OH MY FUCKING GOD. OH MY GOD. HOLY SHIT 

“you're learning fast” OH MY GODDDDDDDDD

“Things that are small and scary….” BROOOOOOOOOOOO

the show has rights for the luke and percy content and posally and percabeth and that's IT

LANCE REDDICK ❤️❤️❤️ greatest of all time rest in peace ❤️ (you'll always be Cedric daniels to me)

Ohhh king he does a bad ass zeus

Where's poseidon though DONT TAKE HIM FROM ME 😭😭😭

Lance ily

Lance reddick zeus you're perfect to ME

OHHHHH YES GOOD SHIT

percy jackson king of audacity 

AGHHHHHJJJDHH POSEIDON I LOVE YOU BRIAN BROMEN OH FUCK YES IM. SNKDKKWKWJFKMQ3LI4HRND IM VIBRATING NRJNW OHMYGID

IM THROWING UP OH MY GOD

“I SURRENDER” OH BROTHER DO I HAVE THOUGHTS THOUGHTS TOO MANY THOUGHTS FUCKKKKK

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD IM GOING TO PUKE

TOBY STEPHENS LOVE OF MY LIFE

I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE UNWELL IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

SHUT UP NOBODY TOUCH ME

“OBEDIENCE DOESNT COME NATURALLY TO YOU DOES IT” ohhhhhhhh brother call me an ambulance 

“I must take some of the blame i suppose” so you CAN read the books you just chose not to for the other 7 episodes….

THE SEA DOES NOT LIKE TO BE RESTRAINED FUCK YEAHHHHHB BROTHER

HIM ONLY UNDERSTANDING THE WORD FATHER IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF IM SOBBING 

POSEIDON SMILE IM DYING 

I DIDN'T LEARN IT FROM CHIRON AND THEN POSEIDONS FACE OH FUCK IM PUKING SHAKING CRYING

IM SO SO SO UNWELL IM LITERALLY INCOHERENT 

“Ares is a moron, as you noticed” STOP I LOVE HIM THERES THAT ASSHAT POSEIDON ENERGY IM LOOKING FOR

“of course we dream, why do you ask” “DO YOU EVER DREAM ABOUT MOM” I AM DEAD I DIED I ASCENDED IM FLOATING LEVITATING FLYING OH DEAR LORD OH MY GOD IM SO SO SO ILL

TOBY STEPHENS THE MAN THAT YOU ARE POSEIDON THE MAN THAT YOU ARE OH MY GOD HIM GOLDING PERCYS HEA DIM VIMITING SHITING MYSELF KILLING DYING DEAD DJFICJJWOKDKDJN FUCK ME FUCK FICK

TOBY TOBY TOBY YOURE PERFECTVTHE PAIN THE FACIAL EXPTESSUINNS IM DYING DEAD

THE PEARL KILL KILL KJAJDJWKKDJJDJDUEJJ2NH3H

I AM HYPERVENTILATING 

Not to be greedy BUT WHERE IS THE QUEEN AMING WOMEN WHERE THE FUCK WAS IT YOU CANNOT GIVE ME ALL OF THAT AND THEN NOT GIVE ME THE MOST FUCKING ICONIC LINE OF ALL TIME WHAT THE ACTUAL ABSOLUTE FUCK I AM GOING THROUGH SO MANY EMOTIONS WHATBTHEFUCK

there's still 20 minutes left taylor breathe it can still happen 

PERCABETH HUG MY RELIGION

annabeth luke percy trio is SOOOOO interesting to me

I hate percy knowing :( ur a bit too perceptive buddy but it's okay 

“I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D GIVE THEM TO GROVER TO WEAR” SHOOT ME IT WOULD PROBABLY FEEL ABOUT THE SAME

THE GODS ARE MY ENEMY, YOU IM HERE TO RECRUIT OHHHHH BROTHER

OH HELLO BACKBITER LORE OKAY

LUKE I GET YOU I UNDERSTAND

I MET YOUR DAD *SLASH* OH THEY GOT HIM THEY GOT HIM GOOD

LUKE PERCY FIGHT MY EYES HAVE BEEN BLESSED IN THIS DAY

PERCY APOLOGIZING HONEY UR TOO SWEET

ANNABETH OH FUCK OH HELLO

So tell me what are the plans for ttc now lol

I HEARD EVERYTHING ANNABETH HONEY COME HERE I NEED TO HUG YOU

I must ask….where the FUCK was this energy the rest of the season this episode is literally so insane it almost makes up for the rest of everything

“How does she feel abt all of this” ooh yummy i like the foreshadowing 

“I imagine she's thrilled” WRONG thalia would stomp freddy chases head in if given the chance

LEAH UR BRAIDS ARE GORGEOUS

stop percy had HEART EYES 24/7 FOR HER IM GOING TO COMBUST

“JUST BE A KID” IM SOBBING

THE SEARCHERS LICENSE IM CRYING SOBBING UR PERFECT GROVER 

“I'LL FIND YOU” FORESHADDDDDDDOWWWINGGGGGGGG

“NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS WE MEET BACK HERE NEXT YEAR”, OH I LOVE THEM IM CRYING SOBBING OH MY BABIES

MONTAUK IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF FUCK DUDE U CANT DO THIS 

i want poseidon to be there i know he wont be but i NEED it

Stop honey percy ilyyyyy you're such a sweetheart im kissing ur forehead and tucking u in

OH HELLO “IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP” WOOOOAHHHHHHHH OKAY

“WE'RE STILL DOING THIS” LMFAOOOOO

“TURNS OUT IM PRETTY GOOD AT THIS….COME FIND ME” CRAZY 

……MOTHERFUCKER if they dont show gabe dying im gonna riot

WHERE WAS THE REST OF MY POSALLY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 YOU CAN'T GIVE ME SOME AND THEN TAKE AWAY THE LITTLE FROM THE BOOKS

WHERE IS SALLY MURDERING GABE HELLO

AHHH END SCENE LOL AH THE BOX

THE IMPLICATION THAT IT WAS ALL POSEIDON……..WHAT IF I DIE OH MY GOD

[shirefantasies]

Okay this is probably a really stupid and hyper specific request, but I really want to see it.. What about the Fellowship (plus Faramir if you wouldn't mind) with a reader who's really sensitive to the cold? Specifically in their hands too.

I have a weird medical condition called Raynaud's Syndrome where, when I get cold, my hands lose all circulation and essentially risk dying from blood loss (something about the blood vessels constricting in the cold) so I personally have to wear at least 2 pairs of gloves when going out in under 50°F weather. It's annoying as hell, and I just imagine the reader on the quest trying to hide it but someone notices they're wearing like 3 pairs of gloves or how their hands are freakishly ice cold and getting worried.

Sorry if that's too specific, it's just -5°F here so I'm thinking about it. I love your blog, keep up the amazing work and take care of yourself sweetie!

Nah, not stupid at all! Besides I've seen much more specific requests and scenarios 😆 this honestly has such opportunity to be a cute imagine though I'm vibin with it~ gonna do everyone cuz, well you know 😂 I use the term frostbite a bit just because they probably wouldn’t quite have the same medical understanding/terminology in Middle Earth lol

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Aragorn

“There is no shame in it.” Starting, you peer up at Aragorn, probably looking for all the world like a spooked rabbit. “It is cold,” he agrees simply, nodding down to your hidden hands. “Yes,” you reply, wringing them and shuddering, “I suppose you are correct. Call it misfortune, but I am quite prone to its ill effects.” Immediately he reaches for your hand, brows raising at the ice he feels in your veins even through your pair of gloves. Half releasing you and gazing sadly upon your wince at the loss of warmth, Aragorn reaches into his pack and hands you a bundle with a faint sheen. Leather gloves. “These are much thicker. A bit unwieldy, yes, but I trust we won’t be doing much fighting in the snow. Take them, please, for they see no use with me.” “How can I thank you?” You smile at him, wonder coloring your eyes. “Simply wear them with joy,” he replies.

Legolas

“Do not worry,” Legolas spoke suddenly at your side, all but startling you save the sheer calm of his presence, “I have something for you if you’d like- a gift of the elves.” Cocking your head, you swiveled to face him, flushing as he stepped close enough for your hips to brush. A part of you wondered if he was doing it on purpose, but knowing him he hadn't even realized...shaking your head, you held out your hands to accept what he offered. It appeared as a kerchief, a small shroud of fabric with a faint, almost silky, sheen. "You may recall our cloaks hide us from hostile eyes? Well, this will keep the cold locked away from you tighter than anything. May I?" Such a gentleman. Smiling, you nod as he folds his gift gently over your hands, almost sobbing at the instantaneous difference. Experimentally you flex your hands, find even the strain of your joints diminished. Without thinking, you lean up and kiss his cheek, pulling away with shock to his smile. "And yet you still have a warmer gift for me."

Boromir

He sees the way you furtively grip your gloved hands, tries not to draw too much attention but gradually moves to walk at your side. “Are you in pain?” He asks with a slight nod to your hands. At that, you sigh and shake your head. “No, my hands are just quite sensitive. Since I was young I was told my risk of frostbite is great.” Eyes widening, Boromir takes one of your hands; you wince at the motion’s rush of cold only for it to melt into a smile at the way the pad of his thumb brushes over the back of it. “Why have you never told me?” “Because,” you shrug, “it sounds like I’m just complaining. My claim is not believable to most.” “Your words hold true to me,” Boromir replies with a smile, pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket, “here. You need them more than I do. Really, I insist.”

Gimli

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Chuckling faintly at the dwarf’s words, you finally break from your reverie, realizing you must have been staring oddly in a daze. The cold was getting to you and bad, snow flitting between your heads and caking onto your cloaks. The old, worn gloves you had were hardly helping, and in that moment you feared for loss of your hands to frostbite- perhaps that was the ghost you’d seen. With effort you peel your fingers from their fists and wince. “Ah! Cold, are you? Why, I’ve just the thing! We dwarves are quite thick in the hide, often hard to beat by a little snow! But that’s also because we know a trick or two,” he tells you with a wink, pulling two little sewn objects from his pockets. Resembling small pillows, they fall lightly into your hands. “Give them a shake for a bit, see if you don’t feel better! A great chemical trick from the mines, you see.” Frowning faintly, you humor Gimli, shaking his strange gifts in your hand until- warmth! Grinning, you shake more vigorously and sigh in relief at the heat and motion spreading back into your hands, which you throw around his neck. “I’ll never doubt you again, Gimli!” “Mind telling the elf that?”

Frodo

"Can we keep the fire going?" Frodo. He had made his way to Aragorn's side, and though that was all you heard beneath the wind and your premature mourning of the heat it seemed the hobbit was vying rather well, making a few gestures before the ranger gave him a nod. With a small smile Frodo returned to the log you sat upon, lowering down to take a seat at your side. "I saw how cold you are. Your hands have hardly left this fire. Aragorn agreed we can keep it so long as watch is kept," he told you, nodding down to the kindling saving your hands. "Thank you," you breathed, "I hope he doesn't think me frivolous." "And I hope you don't think me a gossip, for I told him you needed it. I-I just worried for you and could hardly stand to see you get frostbite of our accord." Endearment took over your face as you peered into the hobbit's eyes, saw the reflection of your fire flickering therein. "Oh, Frodo, I could never think that. You are no gossip, but a hero." And with that, you relinquished the fire long enough to put your arms around him, pulling him close and bringing a different kind of warmth.

Sam

“You look like you’re fit to catch your death of cold.” Turning from your focus upon your hands, you see Sam at your side and smile faintly. “Let’s hope not,” you joke back, “but I’ll be grateful for the fire once we get it started.” Digging in his pockets, Sam looks down for a moment before producing a scarf. “I figure even if I had gloves they wouldn’t fit you, but you could always wrap this around.” “I can’t take this,” you shake your head, “after all, what will you do, then?” “I’ll just sit right next to you and that’ll keep me plenty warm,” Sam responds with a sweet smile, "here." Matters settled, he winds his scarf tightly around your hands, keeping them in his for a moment, thinking, then finally pressing a kiss to them before he lets them go.

Merry

"Oh, no, you don't!" "Merry," you giggle, "I need to get my whittling knife from my pack!" "I can get it." Since the day you told Merry you were sensitive to the cold, particularly by the frost that overtakes your hands, the hobbit has quite insisted upon holding them in his at all times. Even if yours are larger, his are quite insistent and, bless him, warm. However, he barely understood that you could hardly walk with both your hands in his all the time, and the others had taken to giving you little smiles and shakes of their head and never calling one name without the other. "You ought to give up," Pippin chuckles your name with a grin, "Merry is quite used to keeping his antics going." "Antics?" Sam shoots back, crossing his arms and shaking his head fondly. "More like excuses. I know a lovestruck fool when I see one."

Pippin

“You should have told me you were cold!” Guilt flit across your features at Pippin’s words and, of course, his glance to your thrice-gloved hands. “Well, it’s just my hands, you see, I-” “Doesn’t matter,” he cut you off with a grin of warm acceptance, “no matter what of you isn’t comfortable, you have me to take care of you, alright? Now watch this.” You watched as he placed stones in Sam’s once-washed pot. “I’ve seen healers do this, usually on someone’s back but I figure heat is heat, right?” Giggling, you admit that he is right. “We’ll let these go for a bit before you grab them- can’t have you getting burned either,” he dotes, shaking his head and peering back from the fire to you with shining eyes.

Faramir

"Faramir, they'll stare," you protested as he began walking you out the door. "And when I tell them this is what the nurses ordered they shall feel quite remorseful," he joked back, continuing on your course. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you went out into the White City with one hand both in Faramir's and in his pocket. The other you kept in your own, supplemented for lack of your beloved's warmth by an extra glove. It was, in fact, not the same. "Besides, there are worse pockets for your hand to be in, no?" That comment was quite worth relieving your left hand of its pocket long enough to give Faramir a light smack on the chest. Opportunity struck, though, and he caught your hand in his free one, pressing his lips to the back of it. "Perhaps I am fonder of winter than I quite realized. Always did we prefer spring's hope of blossom to the dreary chill, but it would seem there are many advantages to take in the cold."

Eomer

“Why do you hide your hands so?” Direct. Eomer, it seemed, did not find your habit of tucking away from the cold as discreet as you did. You sighed. Fear crept along your spine alongside winter’s chill at the thought of the warrior finding you weak. Would he believe you or disregard your word like so many others? “I’m prone to frostbite, you could say,” you replied quietly, hands clasped. At that, Eomer tilted his head, fixing you as a sight entirely new to his eyes. “Let me see.” Suppressing a wince, you held out your gloved hands and tried to ignore the jolt you felt when he held them, thumbs running over the backs. Frowning, he spoke again. “This will not do.” That time, you winced, trying to pull your hands away, but his grip tightened as he continued. “The Riders have far thicker gloves. Let me fetch you a pair. Your hands are far too capable to lose, after all.” Winking, he made his way toward the armory with a smile matching the faint creep of yours upon your lips.

Haldir

"Is this why they were so reluctant to send you? I must apologize, I fought so hard on your behalf because I thought they doubted you, not this." You shake your head, eyes almost tearing up at the hurt on Haldir's face. "You could not have known. I...try not to tell anyone. They seldom believe me," you confessed, hands wringing nervously. The mission was outside of Lothlórien, away higher into the mountains where the chill could affect you. Of greatest concern to you, though, was how Haldir would react to a perceived weakness. His grace had you taken aback, though, as he held your hands, never pushed you, ensured you felt able to fight before sending you into the fray. Even when you stayed behind from danger you couldn't help but smile as his words. "This will never happen again. All I want is to keep you safe."

Eowyn

“This is beautiful, thank you,” you breathe, pulling a short length of luxurious fur from the box with wide eyes. This could not have been an easily attained gift. “You like it?” Eowyn smiles, enraptured at your joy and the way you eagerly nod. “Do you know what it is?” Grin fading a bit, you shake your head, regretting your ignorance especially if it is to come off as ingratitude. It does not, though, or such only fuels Eowyn’s glow further as she extends a hand over it. “A muff! See here!” Plucking it from your hands, she slides her own inside the fur, revealing its tube shape. Alight, you immediately stick your own hands in there, sheepish at the way Eowyn starts at the cold of them before holding them together beneath the warm, fluffy layers. “This is perfect,” you thank her, your head falling to her shoulder.

Arwen

"Your hands are cold!" "I-I'm sorry," you pull from her grasp sheepishly. "Do not be," she smiles and shakes her head, "It simply came as a surprise. Mine are often the same. Rarely do I feel it so." "Prone to frostbite as I am," you remarked, "my hands are likely colder than any you have felt before." "Meleth nín," Arwen's brow creased, "why have you never spoken of this before? Perhaps we should try something." Your own brow creased with a faint frown as the elf took you by the hand, off to one of the many rooms baths were drawn in. "Oh, yes," you replied, "hot water does help." "I am sure it does, but would you be willing to try something new?" Swallowing a spike of anxiety, you peered into Arwen's blue eyes and nodded, giving in fully to your trust of her. You could tell she wanted to keep what she was doing a surprise, standing completely over the small basin as she was, but soon she was taking your hands again, dipping them several times into thick, heavenly warmth. "And now," she told you with a grin, wrapping your hands in small covers, then heated towels, "we wait." Every muscle in your body relaxed as the sensation crept through your veins, up through your loosening hands and shivering deliciously down your spine. "What is this?" You asked, almost adding magic to the end of your question but feeling a bit too foolish. "Wax of all things," Arwen giggled, "and judging by your expression, it is helping."

Elrond

"Let me feel them." Elrond's voice is commanding, but not at all harsh, as he holds out his palms and accepts your hands. Immediately his thumbs curl over them and a light frown creases his forehead. He nods. "They are quite cold." At that, it is your turn to nod as if to say I told you so. "The storm is to last for several more days. Come with me. Please." The last word upon Elrond's lips is one of the softest you've heard, drawing you up from your seat and after him without a single thought. You follow the flow of Elrond's robes down a corridor and into another room, this one with a crackling fireplace and the softest-looking bed you've ever seen. "What is this," you cannot help joking, "my winter prison?" Before you hear the lord of Rivendell, you feel him, his form drawing nearer until his chest rests against your back. "I prefer to think of it as our getaway," he replies in a low voice, hands falling upon your shoulders.

Lindir

Lindir’s face fell at the frustration upon yours, the way your hands shakily dropped from his harp. He was to teach you as you’d wished, but your hands were not cooperating with you. “You seem a bit stiff. May I?” Confused more than anything, you look up at him and nod. Reaching over, he takes one hand in each of his, brows shooting up the moment you touch. ���Well, no small wonder! Your hands are like ice.” “I know,” you agree, gaze falling from Lindir’s dark eyes, “they get like this with every chill of winter.” You see the way Lindir straightens, the surprise crossing his face and creasing his forehead. “Then let us move inside,” he replies, massaging your hands gently in his, “and I will hear no more talk of lessons until we’ve drawn you some warm water.”

[13keithxpidge13]

AU where Aemond saves Luke from dying in the ocean and Luke pretends to lose his memory so Aemond wouldn't hurt him.

He's taken back to King's Landing where he's treated respectfully so to not allude him to anything but, it gives him the opportunity to gather information for his mother before he makes his escape. But, the oddest thing is that...Aemond treats him with such kindness, like a gentle lover.

The night he plans to leave, Aemond visits him, bringing a cup of tea and soft blankets.

"You must be so very cold," He said. "Winter is coming, after all. I wouldn't want you to fall ill with any kind of fever."

Lucerys accepts the gifts with a smile but, secretly, he prays Aemond does not check underneath his pillow where he has hidden a Valyrian dagger to use when he escapes.

"Well, I'm very tired, uhm...uncle," He had to pretend he was getting used to calling him as such. "I would like to rest now. I'm still trying to heal and such..."

"Mm, yes, I suppose," Aemond tilted his head at him. "Yes, you must be getting very sleepy, nephew."

Lucerys then feels his eyes droop and he twitches.

"Indeed," He replied.

Aemond stared at him for a few moments before smiling.

"You know," He whispered slowly. "You are indeed clever, nephew but, still so very naive."

Lucerys didn't waste another second.

He grabbed onto his dagger and darted over towards his uncle with the intent to /kill/, his body moving on its own as it suddenly felt ten times heavier.

He moved to slash at him but Aemond was faster, grabbing a hold of his wrist and waist as he flung him over his shoulder. Lucerys yelped and went to strike but Aemond slammed him back down onto the bed and the knife fell from his loose fingers.

Lucerys struggled, shouting in frustration and his eyes dropped and he groaned. Aemond chuckled.

"I really am impressed," He told him sincerely. "You've hid your true nature for months now without anyone ever suspecting a thing, I don't know if you ever lost your memory to begin with but, your mistake was stealing my dagger from my room. I know not just anyone would do such a thing. That's how I found out."

/Damn it!/ Lucerys screamed internally. /He knew just from that?! No way!/

"Let me leave!" Lucerys demanded. "I'm not yours to keep!"

"Mm, I'm sorry to say, nephew," He whispered, almost soothing in a way. "But, since you've been entrusted to me, I'm afraid I can't let you leave."

Frustrated tears welled up in Lucerys's eyes and he sobbed, kicking Aemond with his knee but, the man was not deterred.

"Please, uncle," Lucerys sobbed. "Please, just let me go."

"Oh, my little Lucy," Aemond cooed, using his free hand to gently wipe away his tears as Lucerys sniffled. "I'm sorry, I just love you too much to let you go and, now that I have you, I won't be able to let you go ever again."

[scorpsik]

TWENTY FIVE

For Farscape's anniversary.

Lordy, I haven't written for Farscape in a decade.

Written completely live and unplanned right now.

TWENTY FIVE

She closed her eyes and inhaled.  The air was stale - staler than she remembered - but it was familiar; Moya's familiar scent. She traced gloved fingers over the walls, feeling where Moya was smooth and soft.  It had been a long time - a quarter of one of John Crichton's centuries.  Not that time meant much to her.  Not anymore, at least.

Time. Cycles. Years.

Her body had been dying, slowly, over these past years.  After Grunchlk had turned her over to the Scarrans... well, one couldn't complain, she supposed. After all, at the time, she had been a living bomb.  But not anymore.  Once the Scarrans had carved that piece of her away, she was... well... she no longer knew what she was.  A shell.  A husk.

Yes, she was a shell, a house for various organs and such, but she herself?  Sikozu figured that her essence was stripped away along with her radium.  She wondered whether Moya felt like a shell at times too?  She dipped her head against Moya's surface and whispered her question in Leviathan.

She stumbled, and strong arms caught her. She looked up in surprise, her brain still very much unused to company; to caring.

"Hey.  You okay?" John's eyes were still blue, but they seemed much clearer now that he had aged.  They were paler, and a little watery - but much like Moya, they were familiar.

She nodded silently, her voice still unused to speaking.

"You don't fool me, you know."  John said, his voice deeper and richer with years.

Sikozu felt a smile on her lips.  A smile?  Maybe it was a grimace?  She couldn't tell any longer.

"It was lucky we found you..."  John was saying.

"You blew up a minor Scarran planetoid."  she pointed out, her empty eye socket sending dead signals to nothing.

"Oh, that?"  John shrugged. 

"That."

"How long had you been there?"

Sikozu sighed.  That cell had ben home for so long.  "Since we last saw one another."

John frowned. "What did they do to you?"

"Everything."  She turned her eyes to his.  "Why did you bring me back here?  I thought you would have wanted me dead?"

John huffed.  "Even Aeryn went off that idea a decade ago.  Besides, it looks as though the Scarrans tried pretty hard."

"They succeeded."

"Say what?"

Sikozu sighed.  "You really are an obtuse Human."

"Sue me."

"I am dying, John.  My life expectancy is almost up."

John stopped her from walking away.  "Are you ill?"

Another sigh. "I am a bioloid.  I have a programme, and that programme ha been voided.  I am just waiting for my circuitry to shut down."

"How long do you have?"

"Less than a cycle."  She paused and fixed him with one pure green eye.  "I am glad you blew them up."

John nodded.  As the fireball ebbed, he saw her - Sikozu - floating in space.  He remembered that feeling; the feeling of space crushing his lungs and robbing him of air, and he took a pod and pulled her in without a second thought.  Even Aeryn stopped arguing with him one she saw the state of their treacherous friend.

"You can drop me at the nearest planetoid."

John scoffed.  "No way, Jose.  You're staying.  You're in no fit state to be out there alone."

"I betrayed you."  she pointed out.

"Hell, have you forgotten who we are? We've all betrayed each other here.  That doesn't mean we dump our friends."

"We weren't friends."  Sikozu whispered.

"No.  We're family."

ScorpSik x

[peachesofteal]

i feel like a lot of ur stories lately (simple math, the pit, light on, whale vibe time, ichor veil etc) have all been some super fun and interesting campfire where we're all roasting marshmallows and meanwhile DD is a dumpsterfire in the background slowly approaching a pile of dynamite dsfgsdf we've been given breathing room from the fact that the last we saw of DD is the beginning of a Very Ugly Time for those three and i, for one, am very afraid of what we'll see next LMAO

poor darling, poor johnny and poor poor simon :')))

ill say too that SM is super interesting (going off that anon) that they do all seem to be a bit older and wiser and more resilient to potential relationship woes. DD is definitely intense, and to be fair its different bc its not the leadup to the relationship, but SM is def a lot more of a slowburn on top of the unraveling mystery that is bun's history on TOP of warcrime cowboy doing his thing. that being said the past 2 chapters have been AMAZING reads, and even if bun is a little trapped in a corner with staying with the boys, its just speeding up what probably would've happened anyways (AND ALSO I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE HOTEL LMAO. laswell's a real one)

simon being so soft and caring with bunny when he brought her home like how he is with darling..... god i love how you write the boys. they both care so so much about their girl, and its such a treat to read. when can 2 caring beefy dudes kiss it better for ME huh???

ill probably do another DD reread too to really sink back into it but oof bro. its gonna hurt isnt it haha

Whale vibe time… I’m dying.

Also… were you right about the hotel?

Anyway, yes I think everyone should brace for Very Ugly Time for our favorite throuple.

DD and SM are two completely different stories BUT as you pointed out, similar themes exist in both of them, and that includes Simon being the take care/take control aspect (it’s more balanced in Simple Math but it’s still there)

I always recommend a reread, even though it will undoubtedly be painful 🩵