#long distance death devastating. i hate this.

[masterbaiting]

so it seems. since i have only seen exit wounds once. that i hallucinated that tosh got to tell owen that she loved him before they both died. i was convinced of this why on earth would i go and rewatch it and ruin it all for myself

[softspiderling]

est-ce que je t’aime? | j.v

summary:

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

OR; After having spent almost eight namedays in Oldtown, you longed for your return to King’s Landing, to see Jace again. When the day finally comes, you didn’t expect to be thrust in the middle of a war for the crown.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: mention of death (Viserys), canonical violence (follows plot of the show up to Storm’s End), otherwise this part is pretty tame!

word count: 8,2k

author’s note: i do not know a single thing about daeron except for the tidbits we have learned in the show. the rest is made up (but imo my Daeron character analysis is pretty great finally my bachelor's in english has proven useful). this is gonna be a two parter! the first part is heavily reader x daeron/team green focused, while the second part will focus on reader’s and jace’s relationship. title is from GIMS' song est-ce que tu m'aimes which also inspired this fic... also @eldrith bc i fear i will be threatened with a gun if i dont... happy reading 🫶🏼

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“I have a letter from the Queen Alicent and and another one from the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” the messenger said, bowing as he stood at the door.

“Thank you Ser.”

Taking the letters, the messenger bowed to take his leave, and you handed Daeron the letter from his mother before settling into your chaise with Jace’s letter.

This was how you and Daeron received news from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. You hated how you had to wait so long to hear news, longing for the time all of you were at King’s Landing together, but you knew that things hadn’t been working out with Rhaenyra and her family nor with Alicent and her children.

You thought that was the main reason Daeron had been sent to Oldtown, to shield him from the tumultuous life at court and you along with him, despite that you had been Helaena’s lady in waiting.

Smiling at the contents of the letter, you tried to imagine Jace’s voice as he told you of Luke taking flight with Arrax for the first time, failing miserably. It had only been two years since you saw him last, but you knew how boys matured quickly in a short span of time, Daeron being the perfect example.

He had only come up to your shoulders when you first arrived in Oldtown, now, he was almost as tall as you.

“Helaena and Aegon were married,” Daeron suddenly said and your hands stilled, lowering Jace’s letter.

You glanced at him, noticing how small his voice sounded. Putting the letter away, you clasped Daeron’s arm, offering some comfort. You knew how hard it was for him to be away from his family and hearing about important news like that through letter just made the distance seem even greater.

“To whom?”

“To each other.”

“What?”

“Look,” Daeron said, handing you the letter his mother had sent him with the official sigil of the Targaryen house. You read through the letter, before sitting back with a surprised sigh.

“Helaena must be devastated,” you muttered, rubbing the side of your temples. You couldn’t imagine how alone Helaena must feel, to be married off to Aegon. He had always been a little crude; you doubted he had changed much.

“I cannot believe mother did not even deem it necessary to bring me home for their wedding,” Daeron said with a frown. “Am I even still her son?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chastised him. “Your mother sent you away for your own good.”

Even as you said those words, you didn’t quite believe them yourself. It had been so long since Daeron has seen his family, you understood sending him away in the first place, but going for so long without a single visit?

With a sigh, Daeron brushed his silver hair back, angling towards Jace’s letter you had left on the table.

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

“So you have thought about marrying my nephew?”

You groaned and Daeron only cackled when you shoved him.

“Go sit and write to your mother,” you told him with a sniff of your nose and even though he grimaced at you, he sat down at the wooden desk, grabbing a roll of parchment. Even though Daeron was of much higher rank than you, he had adopted you as some sort of older sister ever since you two got to Oldtown, with you being the only familiar person from home that was still present in his life, apart from his uncles, of course.

It pained you, to see Daeron long for his family, who seemed to have discarded him so easily. You wondered when he would get to his family again as you reached for Jace’s letter to keep on reading;You wondered when you would get to see Jace again.

It was six more years before either of that would happen. However under much different circumstances than either of you had imagined.

“Urgent news from King’s Landing!” the messenger said, his breath short as he handed Lord Ormund a roll of parchment. You and Daeron glanced at each other; you were in the middle of breaking fast, the most important meal of the day in Oldtown; it must be incredible important news for the messenger to disrupt the meal like that. His face was stony as he read the contents of the letter, before his eyebrows raised in surprise. He lowered the letter, his eyes finding Daeron.

“Your father has passed. They are to crown your brother Aegon to be King. You are expected back in King’s Landing.” Lord Ormund’s eyes found you. “Both of you.”

It didn’t take long for Daeron and you get everything ready for your departure, you barely noticed most of your belongings being packed up, still reeling from the news. You couldn’t believe King Viserys had died. Of course you had known from the letters that Daeron had received from his mother that the king had taken quite ill, but still. And he named Aegon as his new heir? You couldn’t imagine Aegon, the boy who teased his brother endlessly to become King of the Seven Realms, but who were you to judge?

Your hand was itching to write to Jace, despite your last letter still being unanswered. You weren’t sure what had changed, but lately you felt like Jace’s letters had become scarce, every answer taking longer than the last. You weren’t quite bold enough to ask why in a letter, fearing a rejection, but maybe when you saw him, you could gauge his mood. You knew you were to see him at King Viserys’ funeral or the latest at Aegon’s coronation, you would see him sooner than your letter would take to get to him. Despite knowing that, your eyes caught on parchment and quill, so you took leave to Daeron’s chamber to distract yourself.

The door to his chambers stood open as you stepped in, the maids moving in a flurry as they packed his belongings, while Daeron was sitting on his bed, unmoving. Gingerly, you moved to sit behind him, but he barely acknowledged your presence, gazing out of the window.

“I’m sorry about your father’s passing,” you told him, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I have been living without a father for quite some time,” he replied wryly, glancing at you. “I suppose it will not feel any different.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it, hoping to lend him comfort. “I know. But still, I wish he had been a better father to you.”

Daeron only snorted, shaking his head.

“Are you nervous to see your kin again?”

The young Prince let out a laugh, unwinding his hand from your grip to stand.

“Kin? I haven’t seen them in nearly ten years,” he scoffed, starting to pace. “Mother writes to me once in a moon, Helaena’s letters are more confusing than not, and Aegon and Aemond barely write to me on my name day. I have not seen them since my eighth name day.”

“They are still your kin, Daeron.”

“By blood, yes.”

“Is there any other way to be kin?”

You were humoring him, knowing he was frustrated and nervous to see his family but Daeron stopped in his tracks, looking at you.

“Yes. You.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he took his seat next to you again, cradling your hand in his.

“You came with me to Oldtown when you did not have to, gave me a sense of familiarity in this… Farce of a home, lent me comfort in a way my own blood failed to do,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand. “You are my sister in everything but blood.”

“Oh Daeron,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug and letting the younger boy - despite him arguing that he was long a man - find comfort in your arms. Ten and six, and the burden of feeling like you were abandoned by your family. You wished he did not have to feel this way, but you were powerless to change it.

“Swear to me you will not abandon me once we get back to King’s Landing,” Daeron said, pulling away to hold you at an arm’s length, his eyes searching yours.

“I swear it,” you told him, a smile on your face. “Swear to me you will not say any of this to your mother.”

Daeron let out a laugh at that, but you only shook your head, only half-jesting. You know Otto Hightower would fall right to his grave if he had heard Daeron call you his sister. You were high-born, yes, but in no way comparable to a Princess.

A knock sounded on the door, before a squire entered. “Everything has been prepared for your departure my Prince.”

“Very well, we will be right out,” Daeron answered with a nod.

The squire bowed, before leaving again and you squeezed Daeron’s hand, standing.

“I will go fetch my belongings, you go bid farewell to your uncles.”

Daeron nodded, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “I will meet you outside the city walls.”

You touched his cheek gently before you departed. A knight and two maids followed you with bags of sustenance and personal belongings to the city walls, where a handful of dragonkeepers were eyeing the sky. Lifting your gaze, you saw Tessarion fly over the city in circles, a smile growing on your face, excited to be making the trip back to King’s Landing on dragonback.

You had always loved whenever Daeron took you out flying on Tessarion; deep within you wished to feel a bond as special as a dragonrider had with their dragon. You wondered if Jace would take you flying on Vermax, now that all of you were reconvening for the King’s funeral rite and Aegon’s coronation.

Tessarion let out a screech before coming to land on the small green meadow, and you knew Daeron must be close. Surely enough, you heard footsteps coming closer before Daeron stopped just next to you, knights accompanying him.

“Will you miss Oldtown?” You asked him, but Daeron only shook his head.

“Nothing keeping me here,” he answered, stepping forward to greet Tessarion as she landed, calming her as the knights and maids attached the satchels and bags to the saddle. You let out a deep breath, turning to look at Oldtown for one last time. While Daeron had been right, a part of you was sad to leave, as it had been the place you had called home for the last years.

“Are you sure this is King’s Landing?”

The journey to King’s Landing had been uneventful and quick, a half day’s journey only. When you had arrived, flying over the city, Daeron directed Tessarion into the dragon pit, where the dragonkeepers had been waiting. Maids had then taken you into the Red Keep, and you barely had any time to react as you looked at the adornments that decorated castle; countless dedications to the Seven. The busy Keep you had remembered had now been replaced with empty halls and dark walls.

Daeron glanced at you before looking around. “Surely mother’s doing.”

The maid led you into empty chambers, bowing to Daeron.

“The Queen Dowager will be with you shortly, my Prince.”

Daeron thanked her and she inclined her head at him before turning to you.

“My Lady, if you follow me.”

“Where are you taking her?” Daeron, his hand on your arm to stop you from leaving. The maid paused, glancing between the two of you.

“To her chambers, my Prince.”

“She will stay with me.”

“Daeron, you should see your mother by yourself, I can come see you after,” you assured him but Daeron merely shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening.

“I shall not meet my mother alone.”

“Daeron-“

“Please,” Daeron begged, his voice panicked and you sighed, giving in. Only then did Daeron release the grip on your arm.

The maid still paused but she then decided to retreat, but not without bowing to Daeron again. He started pacing in the room, picking up the small trinkets that littered the desk.

“They just put me in my old chambers thinking it will be like I never left.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing around before you realized that Daeron was right - you were standing in his old chambers. They had replaced the furniture and added a bigger bed, but it was the same chambers he had stayed in when he was a little boy.

“They have always kept a place for you to return, is that not a good thing?”

Daeron looked at you with a frown when the doors suddenly opened and Alicent stepped in, in tow with Daeron’s siblings and his grandsire, Otto. Alicent beamed at the sight of her youngest son, though her smile wavered when she saw you, before turning her eyes back to Daeron, opening her arms.

“My boy.”

“Mother,” Daeron replied, his voice hesitant before he fell into her arms, hugging him tightly.

Your heart warmed at the sight and Daeron seemed to lose all of the fears he had been carrying - if only for a split second - as he laid in his mother’s arms. You were content to stay back, let Daeron get reacq with his family again, but you weren’t ignored for long, when someone threw their arms around you with so much momentum, it nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh Gods,” you laughed, a head of silver hair in your face. “Helaena.”

“I missed you,” the Princess whispered and you hugged her back just as tightly, sighing. She gave you one last squeeze, before Helaena pulled away to muster you, running her hands through the ends of your hair.

“You look well,” she said. “Very beautiful.”

You flushed at her kind words, lacing her hands with yours. “So are you, my Princess.”

Helaena smiled brightly at you. “You must meet Jahaera and Jahaerys.”

“There is time for that later,” Alicent decided, cutting in. Helaena’s smile dropped slightly and she fled to your side as her mother stepped to you. You bowed your head to greet her, but Alicent grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you into a hug, surprising you.

“Thank you,” she said quietly in the privacy of the embrace. “Thank you for watching over Daeron when I was unable to.”

You wrapped your arms around Alicent. “Of course my Queen.”

She pulled away, straightening her dress and you caught a glimpse of Otto talking to Daeron before Aegon and Aemond stepped into your view.

“My Princes,” you said, bowing. “My condolences for your father.”

“Thank you,” Aemond said. “He was in great pain, The Stranger freed him.”

His voice was monotone, almost void of emotion and you wondered if any of them mourned their father. Aegon nodded, though he seemed more subdued.

“Are you excited to be King, my Prince?” you asked, hoping to change the topic.

He gave you a wry smile, opening his mouth but Aemond gave him a subtle jab in the side with his elbow.

“Uh, yes, of course, my Lady,” Aegon said, clearing his throat. “Now that we have all reconvened, the coronation cannot come soon enough. You are a much better guest than our nephews.”

That made you pause.

“Jace and Luke were here?” You asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yes. Lord Vaemond challenged Luke as heir for Driftmark and the trial was held at court. They left just shortly before father passed,” Aemond told you, his voice even. You hadn’t known that.

“When are they expected to return?”

Alicent exchanged looks with Otto, silent conversation passing between them and you glanced at Daeron, who seemed just as confused. Something was going on, something you weren’t aware of.

“They are not,” Alicent then said and your lips parted in surprise. “Rhaenyra is upset, rightfully so, that her father had chosen Aegon as his heir, so she decided to remain on Dragonstone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided not to press the matter, only nodding. The topic was quickly brushed off as Alicent wrapped her arm around Daeron, trying to draw him into conversation, asking about his interests. You only listened half-heartedly, your mind still spinning from the news.

“Do you not think all of this odd?” you asked, your voice low. “I know Rhaenyra is proud, but refusing to show up to the coronation or even pay respects to her late father?”

It was the day after your arrival in King’s Landing, the day of the coronation. The day was hectic, the Keep suddenly bustling with servants and maids getting everything ready; you had taken the advantage to sneak into Daeron’s room, something that had gotten much more difficult ever since you got back to King’s Landing.

“Maybe thing’s have changed,” Daeron replied, rubbing his temple. “We have been away for a while, we do not know of the things that have transpired.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a knock on the door interrupted you, a maid coming to fetch you for the coronation was about to begin. As you walked to the carriage, you were arguing with yourself on the inside, knowing that you were privy of most details, thanks to Jace’s letters. You couldn’t believe Rhaenyra wouldn’t rush to King’s Landing to bid farewell to her father. There must be something else holding her back.

As you got to the Dragonpit where the coronation was held, you were surprised that it was over faster than you had imagined, almost like it was rushed. Then again, this was your first coronation so who were you to say this wasn’t how every coronation went? As Aegon raised his hand to the small folk, eliciting applause, you joined in. The applause ceded when a loud growl shook the entire building. Silence followed, before the floor gave away when a dragon emerged through the stone, countless people falling to their death, trampled by the the huge beast with Princess Rhaenys on top.

Meleys, you thought, stood before the family, and Alicent rushed towards Aegon to shield him, cries and pleads from the smallfolk surrounding you. Criston shielded Helaena, and you grasped Daron’s hand as he only stared at his cousin in shock.

With bated breath, everyone waited - to be burnt, eaten, you weren’t sure. But Meleys only let out a deafening roar, before flapping her wings, breaking through the doors to escape to freedom.

“What in the Seven Hells was that?” you muttered to Daeron. He gave you a shrug, squeezing your hand as he looked you over, making sure you were unharmed.

The small folk on the other hand were fighting to get out of the building, which seemed to be crumbling in on itself, and Criston began to usher everyone out.

You were the last to come down from the stairs, taking Daeron’s hand he was offering to you when a crunching sound from above made you lift your head, seeing a large part of the roof cave in, falling right down heading straight for you.

“Sister!”

Daeron gave a harsh tug of your arm, pulling you behind him, as the large slab of stone fell right in the place you were standing mere moments ago.

“Are you well?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he padded you down.

“I’m fine, Daeron.”

“Daeron.”

You both looked up when Alicent called for him, just to see that they were all staring at you, Otto seeming incredibly displeased as you realized what Daeron had just called you. Seven Hells, you thought, this was precisely what you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you even realize what sort of rumors would be spread if anyone had heard you refer to her as “sister”?!”

You were pacing in front of the study, voices muffled through the wooden door. After you had gotten back to the Keep, Helaena and Aegon had returned to their children, while Otto and Alicent had dragged Daeron into the study. Neither of them sounded particularly happy, their raised voices spilling out of the room. You were wringing your hands, something that you had been doing a lot since you got to King’s Landing. Not even three nights ago, you were in Oldtown wondering if you were ever to return to King’s Landing, now you were back and everything was happening so fast and you felt like you were missing a big part of the story. When did the King change his mind about his heir? Why wouldn’t Rhaenyra and Daemon return to King’s Landing following the King’s death? And why in the Seven Hells did Rhaenys break through the floor with Meleys like she was being held captive? You had so many questions, none of which you had answer to; deep in thoughts, you didn’t even notice someone approaching you.

“Eavesdropping, are we?”

Letting out a small gasp, you jumped to face Aemond, a hand on your chest as he eyed you, unimpressed.

“Gods, you scared me,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I am waiting on Daeron. Your mother and grandsire didn’t want me to come in.”

Clearly.

Aemond didn’t say anything else as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. You eyed him as he stood there, on guard. It was hard to gauge him; you felt like Aemond was waiting for you to make a mistake so he had a reason to get rid of you. You remembered the soft, warm boy he used to be when you first got to King’s Landing. You wondered when he had changed, if it was when Luke took his eye or before.

“I should have known Daeron would cling to you after you had gone to Oldtown with him,” he said, his voice slow. “What is it, that you are planning to do with him? Make him infatuated with you so you can insinuate yourself into our family?”

Your ears grew hot at his implication. How dare he abandon his brother for nearly all his life and accuse you of having improper thoughts?

“Daeron is like a brother to me,” you said, voice indignant. “I care about him and I mislike being accused of such a horrible things.”

“So you vow your loyalty to our family, to Aegon as King?”

The way Aemond phrased the question made it seem like you had a choice and you hesitated, the fight leaving you.

“Of course, he’s the rightful heir, is he not?”

Aemond only gave a nod, taking a step back. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, but the door opened and Daeron stepped out, his face in a scowl.

“What happened?” you asked, but he only gave a brief shake of his head. He inclined his head, and you followed him, a knight on your trail, while Aemond stayed behind. The two of you walked for a while, until you reached the gardens, the knight staying by the edge as you and Daeron took a seat on a bench. He still seemed agitated, so you placed your hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“They accused me of impropriety,” Daeron muttered. “Said that I was opening our family up for vulnerabilities and rumors.”

“We’re not in Oldtown anymore, Daeron, everything you do here is looked upon,” you sighed.

“What is improper about calling you my sister? You have been by my side since my eighth name day,” he argued. “How can I call a woman my mother when I haven’t seen her since I was a boy? The strangers brothers and sister, when I barely recognize them?” Daeron hissed, his voice rising.

“I know you’re upset,” you said quietly, eyes darting around, not wanting him to get in even more trouble. “It’s hard for them to understand. They are not trying to hurt you.”

“Did they not try to hurt me when they cast me out of the family?”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, and Daeron let out a shaky breath, staring out in the distance.

“How is my brother faring?”

You shut the door to Daron’s chambers quietly to find Aemond waiting just in front. After you had spent the rest of the afternoon in the gardens, you had thought it best if Daeron laid down for a while before supper, hoping it would calm him.

“It’s hard for him to find his footing here. His life in Oldtown hasn’t been this… Restrictive. It will take him time to adjust.”

Aemond nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I was hoping he would accompany me,” he said. “But I do not think he sounds well enough to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Storm’s End. To get Lord Borros to vow for my brother.”

What?

“Forgive me but who else would he be loyal to?”

Aemond turned around, looking at you in disdain.

“Rhaenyra. She might think she still has some claim on the throne.”

He paused, eyeing you carefully.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Aemond’s eye swept over you once more and he nodded.

“Yes, it will look good to Lord Borros if someone outside of our family is there showing support to Aegon,” he insisted. “It will be a short flight on Vhagar.”

“Very well,” you said, a glance on Daron’s closed door, wondering if you should tell him that you would be gone, but it sounded like the trip to Storm’s End wouldn’t be long, so you decided against waking him. You could tell him after.

You followed Aemond to the dragonpit, where a maid laid a cloak around your shoulders as you watched Aemond mount Vhagar, the breath stocking in your throat at the size of his dragon. Vhagar was large and old, barely able to turn in the dragon pit without brushing the cave.

“Come,” Aemond said, offering his hand to you before pulling you into the saddle, instructing you to hold on tightly.

“Soves, Vhagar!”

With a loud growl, Vhagar stepped out of the dragon pit before taking to the skies, her enormous wings stretching out several feet. The ride on Vhagar was much smoother than every ride you had ever taken on Tessarion, and it wasn’t long before you reached Storm’s End, dark clouds following you. Vhagar landed in the courtyard, you and Aemond climbing off.

“Just in time,” the Baratheon knight said, watching the rain pour from the skies just as you stepped under the roof.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, brother of King Aegon II,” Aemond said, fixing his doublet. “I am here to talk to Lord Borros.”

The knight lead him into the Round Hall, where Lord Borros sat on his seat, seemingly having expected Aemond, his four daughters standing idly next to him.

“Prince Aemond, what can I do for you?”

“Lord Borros, I am here to ask you to pledge loyalty to my brother, King Aegon II.”

“King Aegon, you say,” Lord Borros said, arrogance dripping from his voice. “And what do you offer me for my loyalty?”

You were taken aback by his words, but Aemond only smiled, his hands locked behind his back.

“Your four daughters… They are still unwed?”

A smile spread on Lord Borros’ face and he gestured to his four daughters with his arm.

“Indeed. Are you proposing a betrothal?”

Aemond inclined his head. “Not only am I free to marry, but my younger brother, Prince Daeron as well. His lady companion can attest to his formidable character.”

Your eyes widened at Aemond’s words and you glanced at him, anger welling up inside you. So this was why he had wanted you to come. Aemond paid you no mind and you exhaled deeply, turning to face Lord Borros again, putting up a faux smile.

“Excellent, excellent,” Lord Borros said, clapping his hands. “Let us discuss-“

“My Lord!” A knight called, striding into the hall with quick steps. “Another dragon has been sighted, headed straight to Storm’s End.”

“Ah, that must be my nephew,” Aemond replied easily, your heart skipping a beat. Were you finally going to see Jace again? Lord Borros gestured to the side, and Aemond placed his hand to your lower back to push you along; you fought your urge to slap his hand away from you, eyes darting over to the door.

The heavy rain was still pelting outside, nearly drowning out the sound of the steps as a young boy entered.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon,” the knight announced. “Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Luke, you thought, looking at the young Prince, now old enough to be delivering messages. The last time you saw him, he was round faced, his dark locks curling around his angelic face. Seeing him lessened the fire in your chest, though you were still angry at this whole situation, and you threw Aemond a look. He didn’t seem like he was paying any attention anyhow, his focus on his nephew who came further into the hall.

Luke’s step faltered when he saw Aemond, before his eyes laid on you. You tried to give him a comforting smile, show him you were a friendly face in a crowd of hostiles, knowing Luke was about to be met with a rejection, but he quickly glanced away, facing Lord Borros.

“Lord Borros...” Luke started. “I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen.”

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros drawled, his tone less warm. “Which is it? King, or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.”

Lord Borros chuckled in amusement and you could tell Luke was nervous by the way he was shifting on his feet. Aemond seemed to enjoy all of it.

“What’s your mother’s message?”

Luke held out the parchment roll and the a knight fetched it, bringing it to Lord Borros, which he readily accepted, asking for the maester. As the maester quietly recounted the content of the message to Lord Borros, Luke glanced to you and Aemond numerous times, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your eyebrows creased, but the corners of Aemond’s mouth tugged up.

“Remind me of my father’s oath?” Lord Borros spoke, the message seemingly upsetting him greatly. “King Aegon at least came with an offer: My swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids… Which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?”

Luke hesitated. You pressed your lips together; he had probably expected less of a hostile welcoming. Lord Borros only scoffed at Luke’s silence.

“Go home, pup,” he sneered. “Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Luke inclined his head, disappointed at the rejection.

“I shall take your answer to the Queen; my Lord.”

Luke turned to leave, but Aemond stepped forward, calling out to him.

“Wait, my Lord Strong.”

You glanced at Aemond, letting out a soft breath, nerves pooling in your stomach. Luke turned, despite the blatant insult.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

Your hand reached out to grasp Aemond, but he slipped out of your grips as he stepped closer to his nephew.

“I will not fight you. I came as messenger, not a warrior.”

“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond said. “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

He took off his eyepatch and you pressed your lips together, eyes darting between uncle and nephew, knowing this was about to escalate terribly.

“As payment for mine. One will serve,” Aemond added, throwing a dagger in Luke’s direction. “I would not blind you.”

Luke stared at Aemond in shock, his lips parted.

“Plan to make it a gift of it to my mother.”

Luke’s eyes dropped to the dagger on the floor, before he lifted his head. “No.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

“Not here,” Lord Borros said, but no one paid him any attention.

“Give me your eye!” Aemond yelled, descending upon Luke, grabbing the dagger from the floor, while Luke stepped back, reaching for his sword. “Or I will take it, bastard.”

“Aemond!” you shouted, panic evident in your voice.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros cut in, his voice raised and Aemond stopped, turning back to look at him. “The boy came as an envoy. I’ll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Luke resheathed his sword, throwing one last look at you before he turned, hurrying out of the hall. Aemond let out a huff of frustration, throwing a dirty look at Lord Borros, exiting the hall without waiting for you.

“Aemond, wait,” you called after him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re not thinking about following him on Vhagar in this horrible storm, are you?”

“He cannot get away with it, not again.”

Aemond’s voice was angry and you let out a breath, trying to keep a clear head.

“This is a thing from the past!” you reminded him. “Did you not gain a dragon from it?”

“You were not present when he took my eye!” Aemond hissed, taking a turn before you had reached the courtyard, just in time to see Luke on Arrax, flying out of Storm’s End. It was raining so heavily, you could barely see him, dark rain clouds swallowing Arrax and his rider easily.

Aemond was already walking towards Vhagar, the rain soaking, as you stayed put under the roof, hesitant.

“Are you coming, or staying?” Aemond shouted, climbing on top of Vhagar. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, something that Vhagar no doubtedly was feeling as well with the way she was growling and you wanted him to stay, calm down, but you knew it was no use, so you exhaled deeply, lowering your head.

“I am coming.”

You took his outstretched hand and he pulled you into the saddle behind him; you had barely settled in before Vhagar already leapt up in the sky.

The rain felt like small icy daggers in your face as you ascended higher and higher to the sky, easily catching up to the smaller dragon carrying Luke. Vhagar let out a roar, snapping her jaws at Arrax, as the smaller dragon breathed fire in your direction. It was clear that Arrax was no match for Vhagar.

“Aemond stop!”

Your voice barely carried over the rain, but Aemond disregarded you, his Vhagar as she darted to the left. You tightened your hold on Aemond, nerves coursing through you.

“What is it you’re trying to achieve, Aemond? You yelled, shaking him. “Are you trying to kill him?”

“That boy needs to learn how to fear me,” he only replied, tightening his reins on Vhagar, the distance between you and Arrax growing.

Aemond let out a frustrated growl, urging Vhagar to fly faster and you could feel the adrenaline rising as you almost caught up to Arrax again. You knew you were at a cross roads, and what would happen next would change everything, with Aemond consumed by his anger, and Vhagar following his emotions, someone was bound to get hurt. You had to do something. So as Vhagar descended upon Arrax, her jaws opening, you let go of Aemond, leaping off of Vhagar, almost immediately regretting it as Aemond yelled out your name, before you landed on Arrax, the wind being knocked out of your chest.

The young dragon let out a screech, dropping several feet down with the sudden added weight, just barely escaping Vhagar’s jaws.

“What are you doing?!” Luke screamed, the rain pelting against his face as he held onto his saddle tightly, Arrax roaring.

“Saving your life!”

You scrambled to find anything to hold onto, trying not to fall a gruesome death, your hands gripping onto Luke’s shoulders.

Vhagar’s shadow disappeared, but you knew her and Aemond were lurking inbetween the stormy clouds, you had to act fast. Your eyes were straining against the heavy rain, hand gripping into Luke’s shoulders.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly, no!”

You grumbled, knowing his feelings were warranted, but this was not the time.

“We’re vulnerable. We need to find a spot to lay low, where Vhagar cannot come in.”

“Arrax is faster, I just need to get back home. It’s not that far!” Luke yelled back and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t even see you.

“That’s what Aemond is counting on! Please Luke, I know you don’t trust me, but I am trying to keep both of us alive.”

Luke groaned in frustration before tightening his reins on Arrax.

“Ilagon, Arrax!” Luke instructed. “Īlon jorrāelagon naejot jurnegon syt ruaragon.” Down, Arrax. We need to search for cover.

Arrax roared before you dropped several feet, flying by a range of mountains. You squinted your eyes trying to see anything in the rain, when you saw a cave several feet down.

The opening was small, too small for Vhagar to get in, but large enough for Arrax.

“Luke,” you said, squeezing his shoulder and pointing to the cave. “Down there.”

Luke nodded, leaning down to guide Arrax into the cave, and soon enough, the both of you were back on solid ground.

Arrax whined and Luke whispered to him gently, stroking his snout. “Lykiri, Arrax,” he said, leaning his head against his dragon’s. “Īlon jāhor jikagon lenton aderī, syt sir, ziry iksos daor ȳgha. Lykiri, issa valonqar.” Calm down, Arrax. We will go home soon, for now, it’s not safe. Calm down, my boy.

Arrax let out a soft whine, before curling in on himself, letting out a puff of smoke. With slumped shoulders, Luke sat down against the cave wall. You took off your cloak, laying it down so it could dry off before you sat down next to Luke, even as the boy avoided eye contact with you.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence with the occasional huff of Arrax, listening to the storm raging on outside. You hoped Aemond would cease his need for revenge soon. As a particularly loud thunder sounded, Luke jumped and you glanced at him, your heart aching.

“Are you well?”

Luke glanced over to you, trying to hide his tense shoulder by tightening his wet cloak around himself.

“No. But I’m unharmed,” he replied, his lips unmistakably shivering.

“It is better when you take off wet clothes, otherwise it might make you sick,” you said, leaning over to him to help unfasten his cloak, but Luke flinched away at your touch and your hands froze midair.

“I am sorry,” you said, breath bated. He must still be shaken, after seeing The Stranger right in the eyes. Luke let out a small breath, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his cloak.

“Did you know my uncle came to Storm’s End to kill me?” Luke asked, his voice small. “Did you come to make me lower my guards?”

“Forgive me?”

You knew their family affairs were difficult, strained from what had happened in the past, but you were stunned that he would expect this from Aemond, or you.

“I cannot speak of Aemond’s intentions,” you said truthfully. “Only of mine. I never wanted to harm you, and I did my best to keep you safe as soon as I realized that Aemond was too blinded by his need for revenge…”

Luke sniffed, wiping his cheeks and you moved to sit down in front of him.

“I’m only here to help you,” you assured him, holding your hands up in defense. “Arrax would turn me to ashes if I even touch you the wrong way, right?”

Arrax let out a soft growl at that and Luke gave you a small smile, nodding.

“Yes he would.”

“See, you’re in no danger,” you told him, your hand slowly reaching for his cloak, careful, as to not spook him. “Now take off your cloak and lay it down, it will dry off faster this way.”

Luke nodded, unfastening his cloak and laying it down next to yours before he took a seat beside you. Even though he had grown considerably in the years you had not seen him, he still was the little cheeky boy you remembered from before you had left King’s Landing.

“You have grown into a fine young Prince,” you told him. “I almost did not recognize you when you walked into Lord Borros’ hall.”

Luke quirked a smile at you, ducking his head. “I’m almost as tall as Jace now. He despises it.”

You grinned, pulling your legs close. You could imagine Jace just all too well, squinting at the mirror standing next to Luke.

“How is Jace?” you asked, your chest tight. You couldn’t believe how it was mere moon’s turns ago where you were exchanging letters, wondering why his replies seemed to become rarer.

Luke let out a small sigh, like it was a question that plagued him.

“Jace is… Angry. Ever since my uncle usurped the throne he has been trying to take action, fight for my mother’s claim.”

Your forehead creased.

Usurp?

“Pardon… Are you saying Aegon is not the rightful heir to King Viserys?”

Luke stared at you, mouth agape. “… Yes. He stole my mother’s inheritance.”

You only blinked at him, letting the news sink in as you leaned back against the wall, stumped.

“Now everything is falling into place… Why Aemond was questioning my loyalties, Rhaenys! Gods!” You covered your face with your hands, a gasp escaping your lips. “Daeron. I’ve left Daeron at King’s Landing without telling him that I’ve gone.”

You didn’t want to imagine what story Aemond has spun to make you a villain, to draw Daeron on his side.

“I’m sure all will be well,” Luke assured you, patting your hand consolingly. You only nodded, even though you were making up the worst scenarios in your head. Luke gave you a small smile, turning his hand when a yawn overtook him; Arrax had long curled up, his snores filling the cave.

“You should get some rest,” you told him, glancing over to the entrance of the cave where it was still pouring rain. “It might be a while before the rain ceases. I will wake you, when it is safe to leave.”

Luke semed hesitant, but then gave in, settling back against the wall, closing his eyes. As he slept, you noticed how he looked even younger, too young to be thrust into a war like this. Was this the fate that would meet Daeron, Helaena or even Joffrey? The thought unsettled you.

Time passed for a while, and it seemed like the clouds would never pass, but surely enough, the rain lessened, before stopping completely.

Gently, you shook Luke awake, feeling bad for waking him, but you knew he’d want to go home as soon as possible.

“Luke, the rain has stopped,” you told him, waiting for him to blink at you sleepily before you got to your feet, collecting your cloaks off of the ground. You handed Luke his cloak, fastening your own around your shoulders.

“It should be safe now. Aemond must be long gone.”

Luke nodded, glancing at Arrax and then back at you, hesitating, and you knew what he was thinking. You had been thinking it ever since you got to the cave.

“It is alright, Luke. Arrax is too small to carry us both all the way to Dragonstone. Go.”

You tried to be brave, giving Luke a smile but your voice was shaking, whether it was from fear or cold, you weren’t sure. You were a high born lady, you were in no way capable of fending for yourself. Luke leaving you here would mean a certain death, but he didn’t need to know that. Luke looked at you with big eyes, saying nothing before he walked over to Arrax, whispering to him as he stroked his dragon’s neck gently.

You let out a small breath, taking another look around the cave, resigning yourself to your fate when Luke called your name.

“Come, we need to leave before the weather turns again.”

“Luke, no,” you argued but Luke shook his head.

“You saved me. I am not leaving you behind. I would never forgive myself, and neither would Jace,” Luke said, and you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Arrax can carry us both, it is not much longer until Dragonstone.”

You ducked your head, a smile on your lips. Rhaenyra really raised amazing children.

“Very well.”

The two of you squeezed into the saddle on top of Arrax, who let out a small huff as he walked to the entrance of the cave.

“Mēre mōrī kipagon gō īlon issi lenton, issa valonquar,” Luke said to Arrax, gently caressing his neck. “Soves.” One more flight until we’re home, my boy.

Arrax leapt into the air, letting out a screech before stretching his wings, making his way home. As you flew through the skies, your eyes darted around constantly, looking for any sign of Vhagar, but it seemed like the coast was clear. Soon enough, you could see the outline of Dragonstone, and just in time; as you had noticed Arrax growing tired the more you lost on altitude.

“Īlon issi bē konīr, Arrax. Sepār mirrī tolī.” We are almost there, Arrax. Just a bit more.

Luke’s voice was gentle as he spoke to Arrax, despite his nerves. You nearly sighed in relief when Arrax flew towards the small opening to the dragon mount, and you thanked all the Gods when both you and Luke climbed off of Arrax onto solid ground again.

“Prince Lucerys!”

A knight came hurrying into the dragon pit, his eyes flickering to you before turning his attention back to Luke.

“Her Grace has been awaiting your arrival.”

Luke nodded, watching Arrax climb into the depths of the cave to get some much needed rest before he turned to the knight. “Take us to my mother.”

The knight bowed, leading you and Luke into the Keep, stopping in the doorway. Rhaenyra was pacing in front of the fire, her face worried. You hadn’t seen her for so long, but she looked almost exactly the same.

“Prince Lucerys, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra ceased her pacing, looking up and the relief was obvious on her face as she ran toward her son.

“Luke!”

“Mother!”

Rhaenyra threw her arms around her son, embracing him tightly and your breath stocked in your throat as you stayed back. You couldn’t believe how everything could have played out so differently if you had not intervened.

Rhaenyra pulled away, cupping Lucerys’ face with her hands.

“What happened?”

“Aemond and Vhagar were already at Storm’s End when I arrived. Lord Borros refused to stand by his oath… When I left Aemond followed me on Vhagar; if she hadn’t intervened…”

Lucerys paused and Rhaenyra glanced over to you; you, who had stayed behind to give them privacy.

You bowed your head, mostly out of respect but also because you had no idea what to do.

“You’re Helaena’s lady in waiting,” Rhaenyra said.

“I was. I have spent my last eight name days in Oldtown with Daeron.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small, grateful smile, but before either of you could continue your talks, shouts interrupted you.

“Mother! Luke!”

You turned around just to see Jace storming into the hall, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your heart stopped in your chest as you saw him again for the first time in so many years, relief washing over his face as he saw his brother stand with his mother unharmed. Then his eyes laid on you, and you gave him a shy smile. Jace only blinked at you, eyeing you from head to toe before his eyes widened; and for a second, you thought he’d be happy to see you. Instead, his forehead creased and his mouth curled downwards.

“What are you doing here?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: omg the drama...what are we thinking??

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Life Did Not Treat Us Well 🌙 | Harry Potter Imagine

set during the events of HP 3 & 7

HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: all platonic—Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Minerva McGonnagal, Albus Dumbledore

Content Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, implied character death, cannon divergence | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Premise:

When the dust clears at Hogwarts, Harry searchers for the one person who can relate to him, now that all close to his parents were dead. She was the last remanence of the family he could have had, if life had treated them well. Now they were two lost souls, carrying the weight of reality on their shoulders. But while Harry would one day greet death as an old friend, she was bound to the Earth forever.

-----------

Harry found his Godmother in the Astronomy Tower. Or what was left of it really. Seated on the edge with feet hanging off, the cool breeze blowing through her hair. As he got closer, he saw the blank look in her eye, staring out to the distance at the river and trees. Smoke from the fires sizzling out until disappearing forever. 

He announced himself as he approached, although Harry knew she was aware of his presence. “Thought I might find you here.” Coming beside her, Harry crouched and swung his legs off the ledge to sit next to her. 

“This used to be my favorite spot in the castle,” She replied without looking at him, but Harry heard the small smile in her voice. The tone one has when recalling happy memories. “I loved coming up here after hours to admire the stars. It was the one place I found solace in, and what I missed most after….” 

Harry understood what she referred to, tilting his head down. The question left his lips without thinking, “Did you ever hate them? Dumbledore, Sirius….Remus. At any point?” He glanced up with curious eyes, “For what happened that night.” The boy received a sigh, emanating the exhaustion she felt after the long, devastating battle. It was laced with grief and sorrow. Making Harry regret asking. He went to apologize but she cut him off. 

“To say I didn’t want to would be a lie,” the confession hung in the air, a tightening in her chest despite the weightlifting off her shoulders. “Especially in the beginning, Harry. It’s why many years passed before I returned home. I was enraged.” Turning to him, she pressed her lips together, “I feared what I’d do, and it didn’t help that my emotions were not only all over the place, but heightened and made me uncontrollable.” 

A shiver migrated down her spine, the memory of her early years after the transformation resurfacing. Along with the fear, guilt, and despair. Sniffing, she panned back to the river, “But you must know, I do not-- did not, ” she corrected with a crack, “hate Remus. Nor did I harbor any blame for what he did. He wasn’t in his right mind, as you’ve witnessed when there’s a full moon.”

Harry shuddered, thinking back to his third year. The night of many revelations. Sirius’ innocence, Peter’s betrayal, Remus’s lycanthropy…and Y/n’s vampirism. 

“But Sirius and Dumbledore…..”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, her voice growing lower, “It pains me to admit it, Harry, but…..I wanted to kill them. ” Of course that feeling disappeared a long time ago. After a long journey of reflection, acceptance, and resilience. Y/n forgiving Sirius for his actions that led to her nearly dying at the hands of Remus when she saved Snape from falling into Sirius’ trap. Their reunion in 1993 was a bittersweet moment. Filled with apologies and hope for the future. 

As for Dumbledore, part of her--especially now after everything that’s happened, after everything she’s lost, deep down Y/n wishes he had let her succumb to the injuries. 

“What do we do, Albus!” Madam Pomprey shouted, on the verge of hyperventilating as she attempted to aid the girl in front of her. Blood poured from multiple parts of her body as she laid on the bed. Withering, shivering, turning paler by the second. 

James and Sirius stood frozen in the corner, covered in Y/n’s blood from hauling her to the infirmary, watching the scene unfold with horror. Snape, laying in his own bed, mirrored their expressions as Professor McGonnagal tried to block his view. The older woman had a hand covering her mouth, “God be with us.”

Y/n groaned, face becoming drowsy as her body desired sleep. Madam Pomprey’s dress painted deep red, pleading to the headmaster with her eyes. “This is beyond my reach, headmaster. We must take her to St. Mungos.”

Albus refused, “She’s in no condition to apparate, nor travel by Floo. She’ll die before we’d set foot inside.” He thought deeply, glancing between the girl and his colleagues with an unreadable expression. Then, as though fighting the thoughts in his head, Albus sighed in defeat. “There’s only one way to save the girl.” As he reached into his pocket, retrieving the vial he’d grabbed on his way out of his office in case of the worst possible outcome, Albus motioned for Filch. “Send an owl to the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Tell them they must send a representative to Hogwarts before the sun rises--it is a matter of the highest urgency.” 

With a nod, Filch makes haste out of the infirmary towards the owlery. Leaving the remaining members of the group confused and worried. Minerva approaches the man, “The Department of Magical Creatures? What in Heaven's name are you thinking, Dumbledore? Remus didn’t bite Y/n--.” She then notices the vial in his hand, face dropping, “What is that?”

Albus briefly glances at the boys before focusing back on Y/n. Preparing himself for the negative reaction he was sure to receive. “ Vampire venom .” Air catches in all their throats, Sirius looking like he wants to throw up. The women gasp, Minerva absolutely appalled. 

“Are you suggesting turning the girl into a vampire?!” her voice carries with an unfamiliar tone no one had ever seen from the professor. It was like she didn’t recognize the man in front of her. In disbelief he even possessed the venom when only three known vampires were alive and located away from England. 

“It’s the only way to save the girl, Minerva.”

“That is illegal!” She shouted, making even Pompfrey flinch. James and Sirius felt their stomachs drop, hearts pounding against their chest. Seeing their head of House look genuinely frightened on top of their best friend dying ignited a fury of anxiety. Minerva stepped closer to Albus, voice stern, “If the Ministry doesn’t see fit to kill her they will surely send her away. They will remove her from Hogwarts--and her family! To be alone for all eternity,” Minerva’s heart already broke for the girl. Her favorite student and protegee. “If you do this you are sentencing her to a fate worse than death, Albus.” 

He was quiet for a moment, as if debating what to do. But then brushed past the woman to move beside Y/n, uncorking the vial. “Likely so. But it is a risk worth taking.”

Minerva had to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut to not watch the man do the unthinkable. Meanwhile James steps forward, sweat still beading his forehead and yells, “You can’t do that, headmaster!” Albus’ hand pauses in the air before it could pour the liquid in Y/n’s mouth. Glancing up to find James’s horrified face. The young Potter had read a bit on vampires along with the stories his father told him. 

The most notable details being vampires were hunted all over the globe to the point only three were known to be alive. Living off the grid and nomadic. And that not every human bit survives the transformation. More often they die before the venom reaches the heart depending on their state. 

Knowing this, James feared for his friend. “What if she doesn’t survive the change?” Albus simply looked at him and replied, “And what if she does?” James said nothing, gulping as he took his place back beside Sirius. 

They watched intently as the headmaster leaned over Y/n, gently parting her lips to open her mouth. “I am truly sorry about this, my dear.” Pausing, he glanced up to Pompfrey, “Clear the room. Anyone with open wounds and covered in blood will be her target.” With urgency, Pompfrey had the boys help her lift Snape out of the infirmary. Leaving only Minerva and Albus with Y/n, who was moments away from death.

“Are you sure about this, Albus?” Minerva asked one last time. Her eyes glossed over, saying a mental prayer for Y/n and for herself in the case the transformation works and Y/n attacks them in a bloodlust. 

Though sure of himself, Albus felt his heart skip a beat the moment he let the venom fall into Y/n’s mouth, “Regardless if I am sure…there’s no turning back now.”

“I hated them,” she voiced with emotion, picturing the moment she awoke to a new reality, Harry noticing the way her eyes glossed over. “Dumbledore especially. Sirius I forgave because at the end of the day he was just being a stupid kid who didn’t think his actions had consequences. But Dumbledore…I never looked at him the same again. After all, he was the one who made the choice. Yes, he saved my life, and you’d think I’d be grateful,” she shook her head, turning back to Harry with sorrow filled eyes, “but how can I, when he sentenced me to walk the Earth for all eternity. Stuck with the same face I had at eighteen. Never to grow old while those around me live their lives until death comes to greet them.”

And now she was the last Marauder. All of her friends were dead, leaving her alone in the world. 

Harry’s heart broke for his Godmother. With his parents, Sirius, Remus--and even Snape--gone, Y/n was the last person close to his parents living. The only family he had left--save for his muggle aunt and uncle who really could care less about whether he lived or died in the war. 

It was just him and Y/n. The Boy Who Lived and the Lone Vampire.

Harry thought back to the first day of his third year. The day he and his friends met Lupin. Enjoying their dinner with their house in the Great Hall and how curious everyone became at the mention of another guest roaming the halls.

The Frog choir had just finished their song, the room erupting into applause as Dumbledore took to his podium. 

“Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” He announced with raised arms, “Now I’d like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who’d kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He motions to the man, who stands from his chair to smile and wave to the crowd. “Good luck, professor.”

Beside Lupin, Snape offers three simple claps while remaining stoic, while the other teachers beam at the newest edition to their faculty. 

Dumbledore continues, “Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years has decided to retire, in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid.” As the half-giant stands, shaking the table as he does, the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. Some whistling and shouting with glee. 

“Finally,” The headmaster quiets the crowd, “on a more describing note. At the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will until further notice play host to the Dementors of Azkaban until such a time Sirius Black is captured.” Murmurs echo against the walls, students whispering in hushed voices. Faces painted with concern. Most notably Harry, who turns to his friends, also visibly worried. 

“The Dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now, whilst I’ve been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities…,” he pauses slightly, eyes catching a figure walking past the entrance of the Great Hall. Dressed head-to-toe in black leather, heels barely clicking against the pavement with how light her footsteps were. Behind Dumbledore, the demeanor of the entire faculty shifted. Lupin and Snape tensing, while Minerva visibly paled. 

The students, particularly the Golden Trio, took the change in behavior in regard to the Dementors & Sirius Black. Who could blame them really. Sirius Black was the talk of the town. Then there was the incident on the train with the Dementors. None were aware of the mysterious woman disappearing from sight as she passed the entrance to continue her journey throughout the castle.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, “A word of caution. Dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving,” he pauses once more, lifting a finger, “but you know, happiness to be found even in the darkest of times.” His hand waves over a candle, distinguishing the flame, “One only remembers to turn on the light.” waving his hand again, the flame returns. 

“With that being said, we’ve taken the necessary precaution to further ensure your safety in the castle.” Albus glances over his shoulder and meets Minerva’s eyes, then quickly does the same to Remus and Severus before returning his attention to the crowds. All three appear nervous. Deep down, Albus feels the same, but puts on a fake smile. “We are pleased to welcome another guest to Hogwarts.” 

This piques the interest of everyone, and Harry straightens in his seat to look around the faculty for an unfamiliar face. However he falls up short, narrowing his brows in confusion. 

“A fellow alum, who’s recently returned to England after many years abroad. Miss. Y/n L/n…” murmurs once again fill the room, mostly laced with wonder when they notice Dumbledore had not motioned toward a woman to provide face to a name, like he did Lupin. Harry frowns, looking at Hermione who just shrugs in response. “Has graciously accepted the position of taking over nightly surveillance from Mr. Filch. She’ll be roaming the halls after curfew and is expected to report any and all suspicious activity. Including any students out of bed. Therefore, I advise you all to not leave your dormitories after hours,” Dumbledore’s voice suddenly turns serious, “unless you wish to receive the proper punishment.”

Off to the side Harry overheard the twins, Fred and George, mumble something along the lines of, “That’s rubbish. How are we supposed to see if she’s fit if she’s only in the castle at night?” A statement which had all the girls in proximity roll their eyes and glare. 

Ron leaned over to Harry, whispering loud enough for Hermione to hear, “that must suck. Imagine being the only one awake the entire night while everyone else is asleep. Quite a boring job if you ask me.” 

Dumbledore ended the announcement, expression slightly troubled, “Miss. L/n will not be joining us for day-to-day activities, her duty is required at night. 

While Ron and Hermoine fell into conversation as the feast began, Harry’s attention was rather occupied. Noticing something strange those around him failed to see. 

The guilty faces of his teachers. Including Dumbledore and Snape. 

It would be a few months into the term that Harry would first meet Y/n. Dumbledore wasn’t joking about her reporting all activity after hours. Several students had breached curfew. Some go to House parties, others to get a glimpse of Hogwarts mysterious security guard. Each was met with detention that week, and all were shocked having never spotted the woman lurking about the castle. 

It was as if she were a ghost. But even the ghosts of Hogwarts were lively. 

She was all but a mystery. 

It was a bad idea. He knew better than to sneak out of the dorms after hours. But seeing the name Peter Pettigrew, a man known to be dead on the Marauder’s map, Harry had to investigate. So, with his wand leading the light in front of him, he made his way into the halls toward ‘Pettigrew’s’ location. 

“Put that light out!”

“Sorry,” he apologized to the portrait, bringing the light in front of the map. There it showed Peter moving towards him. Harry paused, staying in his position while flicking his wand outward, but caught nothing in the darkness. 

His heart pumped faster, breathing heavily as he felt the anxiety rise. What was he supposed to do? Peter Pettigrew was supposed to be dead. What would it mean if he was alive? What did it mean for Sirius Black?

The footsteps on the map closed in on Harry, until they were right in front of him. Then Harry turned, lifting his gaze expecting to see the culprit but scared himself as he met his own reflection in a mirror. Confused, Harry looked back at the map to find Peter’s name scurrying away, turning the corner moving away from Harry. 

Then another name appeared.

Severus Snape approached the intersection of the opposite corridor, Harry mentally cursing as he waved his wand over the map, “Mischief managed. Nox,” the light went off, plunging him into darkness. 

Unfortunately he was a second too late. Severus non-verbally casts ‘Lumos’ and flashes the light in his face. “Potter,” he snarled. “What are you doing wandering the corridors at night?”

“I was sleepwalking,” was the first thing that popped into Harry's mind. A horrible excuse he was sure Snape wouldn’t believe but tried anyway. 

“Extraordinary like your father you are, Potter,” Snape muttered, tone laced with displeasure. “He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the castle.”

“My dad didn’t strut,” Harry sassed, “and nor do I.” Matching Snape’s hard stare, Harry never lost eye contact, “Now if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you lowered your wand.”

Almost like he was impressed with Harry’s attitude, Snape made a face, pointing his hand downward so his wand was directed at the floor. “Turn out your pockets.” When Harry didn’t move, Snape repeated the order sternly, “Turn out. Your pockets.”

Sighing through his nose, Harry removed the map from his hoodie, but did not offer it to Snape. 

“What’s this?”

“A bare bit of parchment.”

“Really,” Snape didn’t believe him. “Open it.” A second paused before Harry complied. Then Snape placed his wand directly over the parchment. “Reveal your secrets.” They watched as lettering appeared, revealing the names Harry already became familiar with but instead of a map, there was a message. “Read it.”

“Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs,” Harry began, briefly flicking his eyes up , “and Missus. Hops, offer their compliments to Professor Snape and--.” Harry cut himself off, unsure to continue as his eyes scanned over the next sentence. 

“Go on,” Snape drawled, and Harry lifted his head to look at him. 

“And request that he keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”

Snape saw red, “Why you insolent little--.”

“Professor,” Remus announced himself, Snape turning so fast Harry thought he ought to have whiplash. Black hair pretty much covers his eyes.

“Well, well. Lupin . Out for a little walk….in the moonlight. Are we?” 

Remus ignored Snape, offering only a smirk as he approached the two. “Harry. You alright?”

“That remains to be seen.” Snape, again, turned hastily and snatched the parchment out of Harry’s hands. Leaving the boy stunned. “I have just confiscated a rather curious artifact from Mr. Potter. Take a look, Lupin,” he extends his hand, allowing Remus to take it. “It’s supposed to be your area of expertise. Clearly, it is full of dark magic.”

Remus rolls his eyes at the accusation. “I seriously doubt it, Severus. It looks to me as though it’s merely a parchment designed to insult anyone who tries to read it.” His chuckle echoes. “I suspect it’s a Zonko product. Nevertheless,” he moves his hands away when Snape attempts to retrieve the parchment. “I should investigate any hidden qualities it may possess. “‘Tis after all, as you say, my area of expertise.” 

As Remus goes to have Harry follow him out, they are interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, causing all three of them to freeze. Severus points his wand out, light emitting into the darkness. They follow the light as he points it in the opposite direction, where they see nothing. Then, as they turn back to the original direction they were facing, the three men stagger back when they’re greeted with the sight of a woman standing directly in front of them.

She was dressed in all black. Beneath her long trench coat, she wore a turtleneck, gloves, and heeled boots. Striking facial features. So youthful; skin clear and smooth like fine China, a jawline and cheekbones that could cut through wood and eyes void of color. They were a bright gray, nearly white. And the moment she spoke Harry noticed how white her teeth were. Reflecting against the light from Snape’s wand. 

“Gentlemen.” Her voice was feathery. Almost a whisper with a slight echo. Unlike anything Harry ever heard. She sounded far away despite being so close. 

Harry saw the way the men reacted to the arrival of their guest. Relaxed, but somewhat uneasy. Remus’s head slightly tipped down, “ Y/n.” Harry’s face contorted to shock, despite assuming the moment he saw the woman that it was Y/n. But what made the boy think otherwise was how young she appeared. As though she were a student and not faculty. Physically looking like she belonged with the seventh years. “Apologies for disturbing you this evening.”

Y/n’s expression was stoic, “Your apology should be directed to those hanging on the wall trying to sleep. Something you all should be doing as well.” Eyes flickered over to Snape, then to Harry, causing the boy to tense under her gaze. It lingered on him for a moment before returning to Remus, “It is not safe to be out at this hour.”

“Agreed,” Snape drawled, glaring at Lupin slightly. “We were all just leaving. Isn’t that right, Lupin?”

“Yes,” the DADA professor cleared his throat. “That’s right. I was actually going to request Harry’s company back to my office to answer a few questions regarding this item he came into possession of,” he waved the map in his hands. Casting a knowing look to Y/n, who merely raised a brow at the parchment. Then her lips curled up while lifting her hand. 

“Might I?”

At first he was hesitant, but then Remus slowly lowered the parchment into her palm, her delicate fingers taking grasp before analyzing the piece up close. “Well, well,” she hummed, a glint in her eyes. “What a peculiar thing. With a sense of humor.” She ignored the annoyed reaction from Snape, making Harry hold back a snicker. 

“Yes,” Remus murmurs with a small smile, but it’s filled with emotion as he looks down at her. When she met his eyes, the man straightened, clearing his throat. “Again, our apologies for the disturbance.” 

Y/n hands the map back, nodding sharply, “Quite alright. At least it was you all responsible for the noise.” She smirks, “I’d hate to report the Weasley twins again for the third time this week.” Remus chuckles and Harry smiles while Snape just rolls his eyes. 

“Been having your hands full, I take it?” 

A scoff escapes her, “Like you wouldn’t believe. These students are more rebellious than I imagined. Though I have to give it to them. They’ve become rather creative in their ways of sneaking out after curfew.”

Remus tilts his head, “More so than how we were,” he whispers so Harry doesn’t catch it, but knowing she would. Her nod confirms so, and Remus shakes his head with a chuckle. “Well I can only assume Filch is pleased to have the nights off now.”

“Oh, he makes it well known when we trade off at dusk.” They share another laugh, but she cuts it off when she spots Harry watching them with curious eyes. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to it then.” Her eyes traveled to Harry, making his breath catch as they lingered on him. Pinning him to his spot as he caught the way they softened. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Harry Potter.” 

The boy stuttered out a response, “It--it’s nice to meet you too, Miss. L/n.” 

“Please, call me Y/n.” She approaches him, stopping short and before anyone could react, she was lifting a gloved hand to his face. Gently brushing a finger over his cheek, causing Harry’s heart to skip a beat. Even with gloves on, her touch was chilling. 

Behind her Harry saw the professors stiffen, meekly sharing a glance. Then Y/n’s voice echoed once more against the silent, almost a kiss of a whisper. “My, don’t you look like your father.” Harry swallowed, processing her words which were nothing but a shock to him that the woman knew his father. Then again as she, with a pained tone, added, “But those eyes… those eyes are all Lily .”

Harry wanted to know more about Y/n after that night. About her relationship with his parents. How she knew Lupin. And Snape when she appeared no older than Percy Weasley. Why was she confined to patrol the halls of Hogwarts at night and could not join them during the day. He tried asking Lupin questions when they got to his office but the man was reluctant to answer. 

Harry had told Hermione and Ron of his interaction with the woman the next day. Igniting surprise in friends as well as curiosity. Hermione particularly found Y/n’s predicament quite questionable. And all the more suspicious when Harry mentioned her youthful appearance. 

“I’m telling you she knew my parents,” He said, placing the goblet on the table. Glancing up he was met with her penetrating stare, brows furrowed.

“That’s impossible, Harry,” she leaned over after checking to see if anyone was listening. “If what you’re saying is true, she’d have to be the same age as Lupin--in her thirties. The only other thing I can think of is she was a child whose parents were friends with yours. Are you sure it wasn’t just your eyes playing tricks on you?”

He shook his head, crossing his arms over the table as he thought back to the night’s events. “No. The way she and Lupin interacted…it was friendly, but tense at the same time. Same with Snape--like they were old acquaintances.” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Whatever, you’re probably right. She must’ve graduated the year before we came here--that would make sense why Snape knew her too.” 

Hermione felt like something was still off, “but…you said she didn’t look older than Percy.”

“So?” Ron cuts in.

“So,” Hermione repeats with an edge to her voice, “It doesn’t make sense for her to be the same age as Percy, but graduated three years ago and knew Harry’s parents the way he’s implying she did.”

“Then she might be twenty or something,” Ron swallows a mouthful of food. At their expressions he lifts his hands with a shrug, “Look all I’m saying is some people age differently. There’ve been times where I can’t tell if someone is eighteen or twenty-five.” 

Hermione slumped in her seat, no longer feeling the energy to argue. Ron did have a point, but her intuition was screaming at her there was more to the story. She’d have to do some digging.

The Golden trio discovered many revelations the night Sirius Black came to Hogwarts. After Sirius dragged Ron into the Shrieking Shack, where Hermione and Harry followed them too, they were stunned to their core upon the arrival of Remus and Y/n. Hermione nauseated at being in the same room as Y/n once more. Having met her the night after Harry when she snuck out of the dorms to the library. It led her to investigate the years Harry’s parents were at Hogwarts, at the same time Snape assigned an essay on werewolves . Resulting in Hermione to uncover two shocking discoveries. 

And seeing the two with Sirius brought an overwhelming fear to consume her. 

“No!” She shouted, still blocking Harry from the three. “I trusted you! He’s a werewolf!” She points to him, glancing over her shoulder to her friends. “That’s why he’s been missing classes.” She gulps, moving her gaze to the woman beside Lupin. Her voice went lower, “And she….she’s a vampire .” The boys’ stomach plummeted, shudders running up their spines as their mouths went agape. 

Lupin was a werewolf. And Y/n was a vampire.

Lupin creeps closer, removing his hand from Sirius shoulder while Y/n stays put. “How long have you known?”

“Since Professor Snape sent the essay,” she pauses again, a cold chill upon her by the way Y/n was staring at her. Intimidating her with those blank eyes. “And when I found the yearbook from when you were all at school. She’s looked the same for fifteen years!” Hermione took a step back as Y/n moved beside Lupin. “Minus the eyes. It’s why she only walks the castle at night. And why Dumbledore’s been having blood from blood banks donated to madam Pomprey.”

The adults are impressed, Y/n holding back a laugh as she mutters, “Clever girl.”

Remus smirks, “Well, well, well Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age I’ve ever met.” From behind, Sirius loses his patience.

“Enough talk, Remus, c’mon. Let’s kill him!”

“Wait--!”

“I did my waiting!” The words echo off the walls, bursting out of Sirius's chest like an explosion. “Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!”

The night had been full of so much chaos. Not only was their professor a werewolf and nightguard a vampire, but Peter Pettigrew was alive and Sirius was innocent. Then Sirius revealed to Harry once they left the Shack that Y/n had actually been named Harry’s Godmother. Filling in the blanks Harry conjured as he tried to piece together the relationship she had with his parents. 

Sirius didn’t want to talk about the night she turned, but informed Harry that she’d left England by order of the Ministry. They put her on their record of living vampires and told her she’d have to request permission to return each time she wanted to visit. Sentencing her to a nomadic life across the globe. The one time she did come home was shortly after Harry’s birth when Lily managed to track her down. Three years after becoming a vampire, her self-control had improved. 

Their conversation was interrupted when the group had the horrifying realization it was the night of a full moon. Lighting up the sky as it broke through the clouds. Casting down its curse on the man bound to it. 

Harry will never forget the image of watching Remus in full transformation going toe-to-toe with Y/n’s true form. The black veins under her bloodshot, blackened eyes. The gray disappeared from the dilation of her pupils. Fangs protruding from her gums, jaw practically dislocated and hissing like a wild animal out for the blood she craved. The two ripping at each other’s flesh, their strength inhuman. Y/n obviously holding back to not kill Remus by accident, who was fighting her with the intent to kill given his mind was lost to the moon. If either of them bit the other it would end in tragedy. 

And while at the time Y/n had 15 years of self-control under her belt, there was always the risk she could lose it.

Even Snape was terrified. Seeing the creature in replace of the girl who saved his life all those years prior. A painful reminder of what could have been his reality. In the years following the incident Snape felt guilt and remorse for Y/n--who’d been the only one in James Potter’s friend group to show him kindness. Often scolding the others for their behavior. She was close to Lily and even sat with her and Snape in class or the Great Hall.

After the clouds cleared and the sun replaced the moon, Harry found himself in Remus’s office, alongside Y/n. It was the first time she’d been out in the daylight, though her body was covered head-to-toe, and sunglasses masked her eyes. Staying along the walls where the shadows seek shelter from the sun. 

“What happened?” Harry asked her when Remus left the room, but not before giving Y/n a friendly hug with the promise to write to her. She would be returning to Hogwarts, continuing her position as night guard. The Golden trio added to the small list of people aware of her condition. “How did you…” he bit his lip, unsure of the right words. “Become what you are?”

If she was bothered by the question, she was good at hiding it. Face never wavering from its expression. “It’s not a pleasant story to the ears, Harry. And I don’t,” she gave a sad smile. “I don’t want to ruin the image you have of your Godfather and Dumbledore--and even Remus.” That had him confused. 

Why would it ruin his image of them? Especially Dumbledore?

“You’re my Godmother,” Harry defended, still reeling in the happiness of knowing he had some family besides his abusive aunt and uncle. People who cared for him. “I want us to not have secrets with each other. I want to understand you--and know how to help you.” 

Y/n chuckled, bringing a cold hand to push some hair from Harry’s face that fell between his eyes. Gently stroking the scar on his forehead as she did so. “I’d expect nothing less from a Gryffindor. You were very brave last night. Saving Sirius and coming between Remus and I.” He flushed, rosy cheeks painting his face. Y/n sighed, removing her glasses so Harry could see her gray eyes. “What I’m going to tell you is not a story for the faint of heart, Harry. Remus, Sirius, Snape, your father….” her sharp inhale lingered a moment. “Life did not treat us well. And we’re still dealing with the consequences.” 

By the end of the tragic story, Harry was at a loss for words. Disbelieved by the truth of Y/n’s origins of becoming a vampire. Initially he thought the group had stumbled upon a rogue one and it targeted her. No, it was deeper and more personal. 

Sirius tried pranking Snape during a full moon. Snape took the bait. His father and Y/n went to save Snape from being killed and Remus attacked her. Leaving her half-dead by the time they reached the infirmary. And Dumbledore made the life-changing decision to transform her into a vampire rather than let her die. 

Sentencing her to a life of eternity, feeding off the blood of humans and to watch her loved ones die while she remained. The same face of an eighteen-year-old girl walking the Earth forever. 

Harry’s heart shattered. 

“What now?” came the question minutes later. Wondering how Y/n managed to stay at Hogwarts, working for the man she clearly loathed by the way she talked about him. Still angry by his decision. “Why are you staying when Sirius is free? Don’t you want to get away from here?” 

‘Away from the painful memories?’ He wanted to add. 

All he got was a shrug and a small smile. “And leave you?” His chest burst with emotion. A statement so simple, but worth a thousand words. “You’re my Godson are you not? Other forces are a threat to you, Harry. And I will not let your parents down.” 

And she didn’t. 

Four years later after that fateful night and here the two were sitting on the edge of the half-destroyed Astronomy tower. Overlooking the river while a lone Phoenix flew across the sky. Embarking on the silence, honoring their loved ones. 

Unsure of what future laid ahead of them, but one thing was for sure. Life may not have treated them well, but the best they could do was move forward. Not let the deaths be for nothing. Make sure the peace withstood to prevent another war. 

The history books would go on to write about the Boy Who Lived and his Godmother, the Lone Vampire. Her name and face, however, are hidden from the public eye. And as the decades pass more and more of her friends join the souls lost in the castle. Leaving only those lucky enough to cross paths to have a glimpse in their memory.

For she would forever be a mystery, with the moon and stars as her companion. 

[thosewildcharms]

Just broke my own heart thinking about Rick being absent for Lori’s pregnancy with Judith since he was, understandably, emotionally checked out AND being completely absent with Michonne’s for RJ and how he missed welcoming them both into the world, plus not seeing them grow up as he said, for a man that only cares about his family he must carry so much guilt over that or feel cursed… also thought about Michonne probably being extremely anxious when RJ turned the age Andre was when he died and she had no one to talk to about it. Thinking about her having to deal with it all while being a grieving single mother of 2 leading a community also made me sad. lol I know they’re both resilient fighters but damn all of that is so heavy! I’m so happy they’re all back together now and can start some healing

ANON BESTIE WHAT THE FUCK?

well okay sure. let's be depressing for a bit but then we should go back to grimes family headcanons okay?

it's honestly so tragic that rick was not able to see the birth of the child he wanted so badly, that he didn't even know RJ existed for almost a decade. the length of that time jump is honestly so evil - like yes, on one level it heightens the intensity of their bond, the way that they never even considered anyone else over all those years and stayed completely in love throughout that absence and distance. but god, it's just a really fucking long time. it's devastating!

it's also why I love that scene in the towl finale where rick expresses how angry he is about it, how just for a minute he lets himself say out loud that he just wants to be selfish for once and say fuck it let's go home, because he doesn't want to miss any more time than he already has. i also love the way andy played the reunion with judith and rj: the quiet grief in his face because he's mourning the time lost even while they're right in front of him, maybe even more so. like, of course he was distraught over how much he missed. this man held a shard of glass to his neck when he truly thought he could never see his family again (which i think we moved on from a bit too quickly tbh). his love for his family is his motivation for everything. keeping him away from them is the worst thing you could do to him, which is btw is why i'm not mad okafor is dead.

as for michonne. well my god anon did you have to go there with that andre/rj thing? i mean, yes you're absolutely right and you're completely brilliant but jfc that hurt. i honestly can't even think about those six years michonne spent grieving rick and raising their kids and protecting that community and getting that scar and everything else without getting upset. i genuinely hate it so much. i'm also constantly thinking about the scene where she finds evidence that rick is alive, the specific way her face contorts as she holds that phone like she's scared to even dare to hope, even though she never fully believed he was gone in the first place. we already saw how much she was struggling but that scene makes me want to set myself on fire. it's all just so fucking sad.

so yes. they better be left alone to heal in peace forever no more Situations no more near death experiences no more wars or fascist megalomaniacs with armies to overthrow. they've done enough!

[therunawaykind]

don't wanna break up again

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: Pinch of angst? fluff

Warnings: None unless you hate the names Leigh & Danny in the same sentence quite a bit

A/N: Long time no see! (again) writer's block and just simply getting the inspiration and motivation to write have been fucking dreadful these last few months. I dunno what was going on. Hopefully, all things going well this is my slow return to posting regularly again on here. If not then whoops you'll see me again at some stage. Who would've thought Leigh Shaw and Ariana Granda was gonna be my breakthrough for writing stuff not me that's for sure. This is my very loose interpretation of Ariana Grande's 'don't wanna break up again' I saw someone say it was very Leigh x Danny coded then this transpired. I hope I have done this some justice I imagine my writing abilities are a bit rusty so bear with me and I hope you all enjoy!

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*Please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

If there was one thing Leigh was certain of since Matt’s death it was how complicated and difficult her life had become, ranging from devastating revelations to do with Matt and his teacher co-worker Nina, living with a Jules who is now a recovering sober alcoholic, dealing with her mother Amy with her previous breakdown she had where she moved to Alaska which subsequently led to her breakthrough of wanting to travel and basically just live somewhere else that wasn’t in Los Angeles, that wasn’t home.

In addition to that after Leigh’s breakdown after choosing to leave with Jules to go to Vietnam, she ultimately decided just to stay living in their family home whilst both Jules and her mother left for however long they decided. Leigh also decided to take over Beautiful Beast for Jules until she was ready to come back…if she ever did but nonetheless she couldn’t let all of Jules’ hard work go to waste. And last but not least the absolute travesty that of her and Danny whatever that thing is, it’s complicated, messy and above all else unhealthy all over for the both of them. Not to delve too much into the ups and downs of their….thing the latest situation ended up with Danny punching a hole in the wall of Leigh’s home, to sum it up in a simple phrase “People don’t slam their fists through walls when things are going well.”

The one positive and healthy yet still slightly complicated thing in Leigh’s life which happened unexpectedly was well… Y/N. Granted one of the only aspects that made it complicated was the fact you were her “student”, you both met due to you attending Leigh’s classes at Beautiful Beast, the friendship, and conversations which ended up evolving into more flirtatious conversations did just happen out of nowhere unexpectedly. The downfall of the whole friendship between you both was when Danny surprised Leigh at the entrance of Beautiful Beast one night to take her home…then you caught Danny kissing her which again took Leigh by surprise. That night and predicament in question had truly shocked Leigh because from what she knew and understood during that time, it was during one of her and Danny’s off moments, their pause a break essentially.

But in good Leigh fashion the second she saw Danny she started overthinking and thought she interpreted something wrong or missed a certain something, whilst simultaneously thinking this was Danny offering an olive branch and showing her they really can make this work, they can be good and healthy for each other….how wrong she was. So understandably from then on you started to distance yourself and pull away from Leigh after that by not talking, hanging out or texting as much. Unbeknownst to Leigh any hope you had of having some sort of relationship with her plummeted very quickly after that. 

Leigh knew whatever they had going on wasn’t good for either of them and would never last, it was a cycle they couldn’t break….well she couldn’t break. It was a lifeline for them both, the last small bit of connection they both had to Matt in some way. On one hand, Leigh had this negative and toxic relationship that she couldn’t leave, she couldn’t escape it. Somehow it always kept dragging her back in no matter how many times night and day it had her distraught, crying and attempting to soothe herself. On the other hand, Leigh had this seemingly hopeful, positive and healthy relationship she could have with you.

But before she even tried to give that relationship a chance she had to try to get out of this fucking cycle she couldn’t seem to get out of and no matter how hard she tried. Whenever she asked Jules for advice on the relationship, much to nobody's surprise always went something like this. 

“Leigh you need to end this thing with Danny and go no contact with him at least for some time, this is not healthy for either of you. I mean come on Leigh he punched a hole in the wall at our house. Let me remind you when I was living with you Leigh after mom left, just how many times I’d hear quiet sobs from your room, you talking to yourself to make yourself feel better and reassure yourself everything was going to be okay, that everything was gonna be fine. And I couldn’t get in because 1. You’d lock the door, 2. You wouldn’t respond when I asked if you were okay and lastly, when you did,  you’d just say you were fine, you were okay. Once one of you starts to feel happier and healthier the other drags the other one down simply just by being around.

I know you don’t want to go through another break-up or heartbreak….but you’re doing it to yourself constantly by staying in this with Danny or maybe…. You keep going back to this thing with Danny because you don’t want to hurt him and his heart completely. And if you do fully disappear from his life because to him you're his last link to Matt and right now you know full well you are leading him on and have him believing you two can have some semblance of a future together no matter how complicated it may be. I know this is a weird way to word it but… I think you know Matt wouldn’t want or like Danny to be experiencing this level of hurt and anguish as much as he is, not even specifically with you just with anyone.

But let’s not forget just how much you did hurt Danny initially when he was staying away from you and you wouldn’t let it happen. You forced your way into his life because you needed him to love you. Who knows maybe some ways down the line in the future when you’re both fully healed or at least somewhat…you two can be friends and have that last link to Matt. But also do remember that doesn’t mean you have to stop contact with Matt’s mother…. You can still have a link to him in some shape and form.”

That’s what she’d deal with, she knew and understood completely what Jules was saying yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it….unfortunately. She wishes Danny would end up being the person to end it but the chances of that happening are slim to none. But with the possibilities that awaited her on the other side of things…she knew what she had to do, end things with Danny then she had to get the friendship with Y/N back to what it was, and she had to show you that you weren't going to be just some rebound, that she saw a future with this relationship she saw it going the distance. 

When she thought about the aspects of the relationship she had with Y/N the only way Leigh could describe how she felt…was how she felt when she was with Matt. With you, it finally felt like Leigh had gotten the best and good part of herself back that as Leigh put it Matt had taken with him when he died. It felt like she could finally breathe again and live her life to the fullest. Fortunately for Leigh yet quite sadly when the friendship between you both was at its best Matt left her alone, and Leigh’s recurring what she would consider nightmares of Matt and Nina living out the life she lived with him finally stopped.

Now all she had to do was start the process and uncomplicate her life which starts with talking to Danny.

As Leigh anxiously approaches the door to the apartment she knows so well, she nervously wrings out her hands and fingers. She had texted Danny the night before asking him if would it be okay for her to visit in the morning to talk to him, as Danny eagerly agreed to her calling over she realised at that very moment he was expecting a very different conversation. She hesitantly starts knocking on the door muttering to herself “You can do this, you can do this. You have to do this for yourself, Danny and everyone else in your life but most importantly you and Danny.” After a few seconds, shuffling could be heard behind the door as Leigh took a deep breath in, in an attempt to calm herself down and get all of her feelings under control.

Once the door opened a weak nervous smile spread across her face, Leigh quickly scans Danny trying to figure out how he really is, as she sees him start to step out and lean in to give her a quick kiss but before anything of the sort can happen Leigh quickly steps in and gives him a quick hug as she states “so is it alright for me to come in?” as she smiles quickly at him. Danny’s face scrunches up in confusion as Leigh quickly pats his stomach as she steps past him into his apartment, he lets out an exasperated sigh and throws his head back slightly and he turns around to walk into his apartment closing the door behind him. 

When Danny finally turns to face Leigh he can’t help but notice her looking around his apartment and the constant nervous fidgeting with her fingers, her hair and her neck. He sighs to himself “Alright Leigh what is this about you said you wanted to talk.” 

Leigh jumps slightly as she spins around to face him “ I- well- yeah you’re right I did, I did.” rubbing her now sweaty palms off of the side of her jeans and slowly sits herself down on Danny's sofa. Taking a deep breath in and bringing her hands up to her mouth “I- I can imagine from the way I’m acting and just how difficult it is for me to start this conversation and say what I actually want to….that you already know what this conversation is about and where it’s heading.” Hearing a quiet sigh beside her Leigh glances quickly out the side of her eye seeing Danny leaning forward slightly with his head down and forearms leaning on his knees. “But Danny this thing has to be stopped, I- we’re both hurting each other continuously whether we realise it or not. I mean need I remind ourselves of the punching a hole in the wall situation.”

That got a small chuckle out of Danny as he shook his head slightly clicking his tongue. “And I mean it wasn’t just you Danny, I forced you to be around me when you didn’t want to, in our own little ways, we were selfish when it came to this situation. Now I know I stated and promised you before that I would never have a life that didn’t have you in it…but whilst we’re both still healing and dealing with our grief that obviously still hasn’t gone anywhere. We do really need to not be in each other's lives anymore, no contact, no talking in any shape or form no stupid lil emoji texts anymore.” 

Biting his lip and sitting back Danny exclaims “But Leigh that’s EXACTLY what you’re doing, you’re leaving, you’re having a life without me! You obviously think and believe you don’t need me!” 

“I’M NOT LEAVING YOU, I’M NOT HAVING A LIFE WITHOUT YOU”

“LEIGH THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE DOING CAN YOU NOT HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING” 

“DANNY!” scoffing to herself and shaking her head as she calmly states ”See this, this here exactly happening right now is why we need to take a step back from each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation without blowing up and ending up yelling at each other. The only time we aren’t killing each other is when we’re having sex and- and even then since we had that conversation in that casino resort we both know Matt is still weirdly on our minds during that. I- I think no matter how much we try or maybe want some sort of actual loving relationship with each other…it’ll never work. The only thing we ever can be to each other is friends.” Leigh shakes her head and licks her lips slightly “Just a friendship. Because we are hurting each other and ourselves from the inside out. We have to heal by ourselves, without the other in our lives and move on. And hopefully at some stage down the line whenever we’re both happy and healthy we can get back in contact with the other.”

Leigh smirks as she sways from side to side “Cause I can’t lie Danny I think we’d be pretty kick-ass friends together don’t ya think.” She grins as she nudges Danny with her shoulder, clearing his throat and nodding “Yeah- yeah I think we would be. And I can’t lie I get what you’re saying I understand hell I see it completely. It- it is just a difficult thing to let go of even if it is just for a little bit.” 

Biting her lip and rubbing Danny’s arm “I get it, Danny I do believe me but you still have your mom. You both can get through this together because it was just as difficult for her to… You are all she has left. And I’ll- I'm staying in contact with her or at this stage more like getting in contact with her more considering she still is my mother-in-law or ex-mother-in-law anyways specifics isn’t the important thing here.” 

Danny laughs slightly and nods “Yeah, yeah she’d like that.” Both sit back against the sofa in silence basking in the reality of what now has to be undertaken the reality of it hitting them simultaneously. Rubbing her hands anxiously up and down her legs as she slowly drags out “rigghtt I guess- I guess I better go now and leave us both to our journey of healing, growth whatever you wanna call it.” Leigh laughs as she mumbles to herself “god I sound like my mother” She walks to the door with Danny right behind her as Leigh opens the door she turns around and smiles at Danny as they both embrace each other in a hug for the last time till…who knows how long. Both pulling away slowly and giving each other a subtle nod as Leigh steps out through the door as it closes behind her softly. Leigh takes a deep breath in, the grin spreading across her face going unnoticed by her as she starts to descend the steps of the apartment building.

Leigh was never nervous or anxious when it came to teaching her exercise classes though apparently today was the exception, as she anticipated your arrival. Leigh smiles moving back and forth on her feet as she greets all of the students walking in through the door to her class, anxiously waiting to get a glimpse of your bag, shoes or something as you come through the front door. Considering since you distanced yourself from her she’s noticed you haven’t attended classes all that regularly. Leigh’s eyebrows raise in anticipation as she sees the front doors open happily letting out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding as she saw a glimpse of your bag and shoes come into view. Giddily she lets a grin spread across her face and she nervously picks at her nails seeing you approach the entrance “Hey Y/N it’s nice to see you again, I’m glad you decided to attend and come today.” 

Taken aback by Leigh's greeting and striking up a proper conversation with you after so long did genuinely take you by surprise but couldn’t stop the smile on your face “Hey Leigh, yeah I can’t lie I missed attending these classes I’m sure I’ll get back on track from now on.” Both smiling at each other as you walk past her into the class much to Leigh’s amazement you turn around and say to her “Leigh if I can just say you look great...you just look happy and healthy. Whatever you’ve done or are doing keep it up it suits you.” With her mouth wide open Leigh messily nods and stutters out “I- I will- I-  Thank you very much, I will be sure to keep it up.” Leigh turns around to the door to hide and mutters to herself “Idiot”.

Much to her relief though the class was a success and she didn’t stumble or trip over any more of her words whenever she got closer to you throughout her class as she moved around the room. After the class finished Leigh quickly grabbed her towel off the floor wiping the sweat off of her as she said goodbye to everyone, in her peripheral vision she could see you deliberately taking your sweet ass time packing away all of your stuff. Biting her lip she attempted to suppress the smile taking over her face. 

As she said goodbye to one of the last students she sauntered across the room towards you as she started fiddling with the towel around her neck. “Sooo Y/N” you glanced up at her as you were putting on your shoes “What's up Leigh?” 

She smiles at you abashedly as she scratches her head “I just wanna say sorry and give you a quick apology for anything I said or did that created that distance and made us pull away from each other. Because- because for that length of time, I really did miss seeing you and your face around here but I’m glad to see you back now.” Nervously scratching the back of your neck “Yeah umm I just-” shaking your head slightly as you let out a breath “I just had some stuff I had to figure out and work on to clear my head a bit and- unfortunately, sadly to do that I kinda had to step away and distance myself from you and well all things relating to you. But I- I think I’ve figured it all out now.” 

You can’t help but notice the hopeful glint in Leigh’s eyes and smile “Oh really? A positive figure it out I hope?” 

Grinning and nodding confidently “Yeah- yeah it does seem that way.” Both of you stare at each other smiling to your heart's content as both of your eyes scan the other person. You clear your throat as you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks and glance around the room “Anyways I should probably head off and leave you to clean up the place or whatever it is you have left to do around here.”  Leigh absentmindedly nods her head but ultimately starts panicking as you pick up your bag and wave goodbye to her, she quickly sprints after you saying between breaths “Or or- or albeit this isn’t a very nice offer for you to ask-” you raise your eyebrow at her “What is it, Leigh?”

“Um, do you wanna hang out here with me and help me out around here if you aren’t busy? I just- I’ve just missed hanging out and talking with you and thought this might be a nice way for us to catch up.”

“Y’know you are right it isn’t the nicest or most glamorous offer I’ve ever heard but I have missed talking to you Leigh so I’ll stick around and help my favourite fitness instructor out.” 

Leigh whips her head around to face you and stumbles slightly as she starts moving the spare barres placed around the room “Wha- what do you mean favourite fitness instructor? I’m your only fitness instructor.” Smirking over at Leigh as you roll up the extra yoga mats “That you know of, could’ve tried out other places whilst I was MIA” 

“HEY!” Leigh exclaims as she throws a cloth at you 

Laughing at her reaction as you catch the cloth “I’m messing, I’m messing you would be correct, you are the only fitness instructor I know and one that I go to.” You hear a quiet yet stern “good” in response as she goes back to cleaning, laughing and shaking your head in the process.

Since then you and Leigh have practically been inseparable, it was as if nothing had ever happened. She had explained to you fully what went and was going on with her and Danny currently..more like what wasn’t going on. Even though you had said to her repeatedly she didn’t have to that it was none of your business. But you reassured her it was for the better, she made the right decision, she’s doing better because of it and you could only hope the same for Danny. Leigh now had you over at her house….for what she told you would be a quiet night in with both of your favourite takeout foods and as many movies and TV shows as you both could handle.

Which now that you were here was not the case at all. Leigh had gotten the bright idea, the brainwave or as she put it a breakthrough. She felt that the whole house needed to be redecorated and refurnished as it reminded her of sad, difficult and complicated times and she couldn’t stand being reminded of those moments any longer. So who were you to say no to helping her out yet again. As you were sat on the floor dismantling all of the old furniture with Leigh, you saw her peak her head out from the other side “Again I’m sorry about this, it seems like none of my hangouts recently are that exciting and it involves you always having to work.” You laugh and shake your head “Leigh honestly it’s okay I really don’t care what I do as long as it’s with you. But hey it’ll be a nice bonding time for both of us, be a little glimpse of what it’s like if we were to ever live with each other I guess.” You scratch your head and hurriedly get back to dismantling the furniture as you realise what you said. “Did you just say living together?” 

“Psshhh me say that? No never? Must’ve heard things, Leigh.” 

“Mhmm okay sure.” What you didn’t notice was Leigh moving over to you slowly on her knees but jumping slightly as you felt her place her arms on your shoulders in an attempt to get you to raise your head to look at her. Glancing up at her you see the silly little smile on her face “I may not be ready for that yet but I’d like to think we’d end up living together at some stage in the future.” 

Staring at her wide-eyed “R-really?” Leigh grins and nods her head as she whispers against your lips “Really.” Grinning at each other as you both lean in to place kisses on each other's lips which quickly turn into little pecks as Leigh slaps your thigh “Alright let’s get back to work this house isn’t gonna refurnish and redecorate itself. And this furniture certainly won’t dismantle itself.” 

Chuckling to yourself you playfully salute towards Leigh “Aye, aye captain.” 

[missmielyhoran]

Second

in which you always stayed being second...

[Warning- ANGST, Unrequited love, unplanned pregnancy, cheating?, jealousy, death, accident, Harry giving his kid daddy issues, accident, heart attack]

Masterlist

*****

You were 19 when you met Harry.

He was bright, beautiful, and soft like a cloud. He was always high up in the air, so beautiful to see but soo far to touch.

Everyone wished to touch the clouds, and only some could do it.

You met her when you were 20.

At a college party, Harry introduced her to you. She was beautiful, smart, and elegant just like him.

People like her were meant to touch the cloud.

And she did. Much to your dismay, you watched them flirt, kiss, and do all those adorable bullshit rom coms show. While you watched, waiting for a drop of his attention.

Which he gave you but after she would leave.

They got together when you were 21.

You cried yourself sick for a week, but no one bothered to check cause the two people you had were loved up in their love cocoon.

It wasn't until she had to go back home for some family emergency that Harry realized he hadn't seen you for a week. When he asked, you just put on a smile and told him it was a flu, which he knew wasn't true, somewhere he knew why you were sick but didn't press on cause she was texting him.

But the honeymoon period came to an end soon after, and it followed fights, lots of fights, and arguments.

Every time they would break up, you would find him at your doorstep. It was wrong, so wrong, but you couldn't resist when his lips would find yours. When his hands would roam on your body, when he would whisper sweetly in your ears, when you would hear his soft snors beside you in bed as you would run your fingers through his hair.

As good it would feel in the night, mornings were just as hard cause every time one of them would apologize and they would get back together.

What could a bouquet of flowers and apologizes couldn't fix?

The cycle went on and on until you also found someone.

He was sweet, not him but sweet.

And he was only yours.

But fate was never in your favor. He wanted to study abroad, and long distance was not in books for either of you.

You were 24 when she got into accident.

It was a drunk driving case. The driver got off with a fine while she fought for her life for a whole 48 hours before losing.

It was hard for both of you. You were jealous of her, but you also loved her. She was your friend, but nothing could compare to Harry's devastation.

You were 25 when he finally came to you.

"After her, you are my only one. You are the only person I love after her," He said. It should have made you happy and some part of you was but the other sticked to the key word after her.

Even dead, she was first.

But you settled for being his even if it was secondary.

You were 26 when you got pregnant.

It was accidental. Both of you didn't plan it cause you didn't even know what your relationship with him was. He loved you but he wasn't your boyfriend or anything.

You were scared for yourself, yet you went to him asking if he wanted it or not. Some part of you hoped he didn't cause you wouldn't, but of course, he wanted it. It was so long after her that you saw him genuinely happy.

You were 27 when your baby girl arrived.

She was beautiful, with his green big eyes and blonde hair which neither of knew where it came from but he said it was from her. "She knew I was lonely, so she said an angel like her"

He named your daughter after her.

Every time you would call your daughter, there was a painful realization of him loving you second, which might have been third or forth after the kids.

You were 29 when he proposed.

With her ring.

It was supposed to be for her, but it ended on your finger, and every time you looked down at your hands, there would be that pain again of you being the second.

Was it wrong to be jealous of dead?

Was it wrong to hate someone who never meant to cause you pain, but was the reason for it always?

You were 31 when you got pregnant again.

He was happy but not much cause he had your daughter.

You had your baby boy, but in Harry's books, your daughter stayed first.

As he grew up, you could see how much it affected your son. How he would hesitate to ask Harry for anything or how he would be jealous of his sister or how he would avoid either of you all together.

You wanted to talk to him, tell him that you were there for him and you to some extent you did but you couldn't take a dad's place.

He would see how Harry wouldn't bat and eye if your daughter would do something, but he would get the punishment for being simply late from school.

Now your son and you both came after her.

You were 49 when your son stopped talking to both of you after moving out.

It hurt it shattered your soul, but you didn't do anything.

Like a coward, you were for the whole life. You just sat here mute and stayed second whole life, getting secondary gifts, kisses, love, and even wedding ring.

You could never be his first, and you lived with that.

You were 62 when you died.

It was abrupt, a heart attack paramedics said.

He begged you not to leave him, how he couldn't live if you also left him after her but it was too late.

He would get flowers every Wednesday and Saturday to the graveyard for you but not before leaving one on her.

Even cold in your grave, you were second to her.

*****

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @sunshinemoonsposts

I'm sorry for this, I'm just really sad today:(

[thebluemoonjune]

New Beginnings (Richonne One-shot)

A pregnant Michonne is ready to welcome the new year with her family, Rick, Carl and Judith. She is thankful to where they have reached and hopeful for better days ahead. A New Year's Richonne oneshot. No saviour arc, no Negan.

A joyful new year always began with the sharing of meals and desserts that spoke to people's spirits. Additionally, we shared them with family and friends, demonstrating that our blessings were also theirs.

They called for a home to belong to a community, comfort, food, and safe water. They both required a secure haven for their well-being and for their existence to have meaning: a utopia rather than hell on earth. They owed it to each other and their precious children to fight back against an entity that could devastate everything, that turned friend against friend and separated them in innumerable ways. They were a family and a team that were prepared for the future and now that they had it, they'd protect it. A new year.

A new life does not begin with a gift wrapped in colourful bows and the promise of security, but rather as a path through the unknown with a degree of fog and frost. As a result, it requires a determined heart to seize it, daring feet to traverse it, and a brave sight to remain alert to its curves along with its peaks and valleys. If there were any other way, people would not live such lacking lives from birth to death. To achieve more, one must accept the feeling of danger and risk as one strives for the far distance. The world at large had been devastated and transformed. It had fewer people in it. So many people perished, yet it didn't stop life from going on. As she watched Judith play with Gracey, Michonne stroked her full-term stomach. One day at a time—that's how they took it.

“Did you get the black eye bean?”

“Yep. Now you ain’t gotta rip my head off for it.”

“I’m not that bad!” Michonne watched her husband tilt his head to the side, eyebrows raised to the sky. “Okay, maybe a little, but just a little… My mom used to cook on New Year's for good luck… I want us to start our new year right.”

“Carl always hated beans—beans of any kind.”

“Well, he eating it today. Judith too. No one and I mean no one, is getting off.”

“Yes, ma'am!” He chuckled at her. “You know, you never talked about your mom much, or both your folks for that matter.”

“I never realised…”

“Is it painful?” The couple stared at each other till Michonne broke the silence.

"No, not anymore… My mother was upbeat, opinionated, and the ultimate decider of everyone's life journey... Like any good army drill sergeant, she planned what to do, the schooling, and the fun that followed. Did I ever mention that I was homeschooled?"

"No."

“I was… till I was eleven years old.”

"I could see that. She was a drill sergeant?"

"No, but she acted like one." Michonne laughed, stoking her stomach, before cracking a weary smile. "She was actually a writer; children's books... Strange, huh?"

"Nah... makes perfect sense..." His eyes softened. "She made you."

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment, Rick…”

“It’s a compliment.” He couldn't take his sight off her.

"I hear you… My father did nothing but work: work at his job, work on the house and work on getting enough sleep so he didn't fall asleep on the way to his firm. He inspired me to become a lawyer. He would sometimes grin or laugh, and when he did, the world brightened for those brief minutes. Then he'd fall back into his whirlpool of worry."

“He sounded a lot like my old man.”

“He probably was… They were good parents—not perfect but good enough. That’s all they can hope—that we can hope.”

“We’re doin' fine and we’re gonna do a whole lot better.”

“Alright, whatever you say, old man. Don’t you have to help, Daryl? Don’t keep him waiting.”

“I can cancel, stay with you… Ain’t no big deal.” Pulling her closer, he planted a longing kiss on her lips, causing her to giggle when he finally broke away.

“No, you go. I just have the peas left. By that time, you should be all done and you can fetch Carl from Edith and Judy from terrorising Hershel and Gracey.”

“Soon she’ll have someone else to nag… You sure you’re right? You been out of it since yesterday.”

“I’m fine, Rick you worry too much… They’ll be here soon, any day now. It’s normal.”

“I never thought this would happen again, for us.”

“We deserve it, Rick... A new beginning, as you said… Now go.” Rick planted a kiss on her forehead, then her belly, before she turned from him to continue the preparation of their celebration meal.

“If anything happens, send for me. I’ll come to you as soon as possible, Okay?”

“Go! I send for you.”

Regardless of his wife's words, he couldn’t help but stall and linger at the kitchen exit. She was late in her pregnancy and he wanted to treasure every second till the baby arrived. He was thirsting to be by her side. They never expected to ever have this. He never thought she’d allow herself the chance after all that had happened in the past. However, she gave him one and gave their family one as well. After being hit with a side eye, he managed to make his way to Daryl. When they completed their duty at hand, he fetched Carl and Judith to go home.

…

The family of four placed themselves in their seats for lunch after Michonne snatched Carl to help her set the dining table. Rick took Judith into his lap, knowing that he’d have to feed her since she was even more picky than Carl.

“Since we're here, I think we should say what we’re thankful for… and our hope for the future.” Michonne’s eyes never left her boys for one second. “ Carl?”

“I just want things to be the same as always and I’m thankful we’re all here.”

“Me too, Son.” Grinning at Carl’s answer, Rick leaned over to rub his head.

“Did you say ‘me too’ to not come up with something different, Grimes?”

"Maybe, but I mean it. You know that.”

“Well, I know that… I’m thankful that I found you. I’m thankful for getting me out that day, even if you were an asshole afterwards.”

“In my defence, I didn’t know you well yet, and I still kept you around when I sent the others away. That’s gotta count for somethin', right? After all, we were the same.”

“You didn’t know or trust me, but that didn’t stop you from checking me out, did it?” 

“You noticed that?”

“Judith and I are still here, you know?” They both crackled at their son’s embarrassed distaste for the current topic but kept going.

“You not kicking me out is part of the reason I put up with your behaviour.” Rick sighed at her pettiness. “Us being the same and me longing to stay with you guys is another part as well, though I didn’t realise that last part just yet... Carl?”

“Yeah?”

“You and Judybug saved me. You don’t know how much you two did. Thank you for making me one of you and thank you for being my best friend and not letting me chicken out… You gave me a second chance, all three of you and I love you so much for it… What I want is all of you safe and sound and happy, and by my side. The baby included, of course. Thank you for giving me back my family.”

Her eyes welled up with tears of unfathomable affection. The happiness dripped from her eyes and they were soon all overcome with shared emotion. It was such a warm, heart-gripping moment, only disrupted by Michonne's booming grunt of pain. At that moment, she came to face the fact that she’d been having contractions all day. Part of her was in denial, only being focused on celebrating New Year's the right way with her family. She stood up, grabbing the tablecloth, and Rick understood immediately. He knew she was acting weird.

"Carl, go grab Siddiq!”

“It’s happening now?”

“Yeah! Go!”

…

Childbirth has always been risky. It makes little difference that it is natural. It is also quite natural for a mother or baby to die. That is why they had made so much progress in medicine for safe childbirth. Michonne and the infant were in far more danger now that the world had changed. Rick became aware of a massive natural birth occurring at his feet. It had struck him, just now. Panicked and fearful, he still stayed by her side. It was his job as a father and a husband. No matter how hard it was on him mentally, she was having it a thousand times worse. She was the one in pain; she was the one in danger. He sat behind her and supported her back with every push, encouraging her whenever she began to falter.

“Rick!” She cried out in search of unconscious comfort for her partner-in-crime.

“I’m here, darlin'; I’m right here! You’re doing great!”

“Why did I think this would be easier the second time around?”

“Because you’re amazing; that’s why! You’re doin’ great!”

They traverse till the drawing of beautiful angel breath, serenaded by freedom. A sign of their baby's existence.

…

A happy new year was partly about starting again and partly about being grateful for all the blessings that had been granted the previous year. It was a warm welcome to new fortunes and the courage to confront problems gracefully and compassionately. Rick stared at his family as their attention fell to the newest member; his son from his departed first wife and his adopted daughter. They had fought so hard and lost so much to ensure they made it. reminding him of the bad, his mind ran to his dear, long gone friend Hershel, and his words to him,

 'Things break, but they can still grow. These little bristles, they'll take root,'.  

His wife was spent but she still held a peaceful smile on her face, gawking at their son swaddled in her arms, the first biological child between the two of them. Judith slipped her finger into his outstretched palm and watched as the tiny body curled around it. His gentle breath touched the back of her hand. Her playful day already slipping away as she observed her new brother.

Rick was going to speak again when Carl spoke first.

“We can’t use fireworks to celebrate but we do have the sparklers! It’ll be nice just to have something, right, Judy?”

“Yeahhh!”

“Alright, you two go now. I’ll keep Michonne and the baby company.”

Carl took Judith after she planted a kiss on her new baby brother and off they went. Michonne, feeling her husband’s eyes on her, allows their gazes to meet. They both knew this was what they struggled and fought so hard for. It wouldn’t be easy but year after year, he would make sure his children—all three of them—lived the best life, a full life. Michonne stretched out her hand.

“Rick…” Her words were weary and had a dream-like quality to them, as she seemed to crave the solace of rest, the enticement of the nice bed beckoned to her tired body.

“Darlin, what's wrong? Uncomfortable? Tell me, I’ll get it…” She shook her head, confusing him.

“His name; I have it.”

“Yeah?” His tone was gentle as he lowered his body next to her and she placed their newborn in his arms. “What is it?"

“RJ. Richard Daniel Grimes Junior... Do you like it?”

“I grateful…” Rick's eyes grew damp. He didn’t expect her to name their little boy after him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure… He’ll be as smart, sweet and determined just like his namesake… Just like his dad.”

“Thank you.” Bending over, as he kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear.

“No, thank you.” 

[karouvas]

assigned each TTPD track to trc/td3 chars/pairings because I was bored.  

Main Tracks

•Fortnight — post TDT & BLLB era Bluesey. not every lyric fits perfectly but the tone/overall subject (requited but forbidden love, especially the implication it’s both literally forbidden (other people involved/kiss curse) and self imposed forbidden (they’re from two different worlds and need to bridge that gap) is so them, pining and yearning, Literally “we can pretend this once then never speak of it again” and then mourning that as they try and keep their distance, also the “your wife waters flowers I want to kill her” bit in my head is Blue being jealous of Henry when she meets him. It makes sense. To me. Primarily a Blue pov song and then the Post Malone bits can be Gansey. 

•The Tortured Poets Department — The Gray Man x Maura, The Gray Man’s post TDT break up anthem. When you give up your hit man life for a woman and she runs off to a cave to find her ex boyfriend, a tree! Will really mess up an Anglo Saxon Poetry lover.

•My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys — DC Party Adansey from both their povs, Adam fearing Gansey only can value him as a possession and can’t love him in a way that Adam would want and Gansey fearing Adam secretly hates him + his heart breaking when Adam smashes the figurines. But the bridge is very Adam pov “I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Kens” Adam’s relationship with projection and both hating Gansey’s facade and being infatuated with and attracted to it, also there are so many ways they pretend seperately and together. 

•Down Bad — Pynch, first verse and chorus definitely Ronan pov in trc, the second verse and chorus as Adam pov in mi then after that could be both of them although still would lean more Ronan pov for the vibes. 

•So Long, London — Noah song. A lot of it could be his pov talking to Whelk, but then the friends he’s referring to could be the Gangsey and the Gangsey pov could be the final chorus saying goodbye to him. 

•But Daddy I Love Him — Niall x Mor. Niall’s pov as he tries to get his mother/his family to accept that he loves Mor. 

•Fresh Out The Slammer — Jordeclan. Self explanatory. 

•Florida!!! — at first I was going to give this one to Blue because of some of the themes about feeling conflicted about your hometown, then I wanted to make it a Hennessy song because some lyrics really fit her, but then eventually I decided this is actually a song about The Fairy Market. Different parts could be from Hennessy Jordan and Declan’s pov and maybe a little bit from Mor’s and/or Henry’s. 

•Guilty as Sin? — this song has both Bluesey and Pynch vibes but to me it’s a Bluesey song overall. Blue pov, yearning for someone you can never touch it’s perfect… 

•Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? — Ronan song fits him in the first two trc books real well imo. In the second verse he’s addressing the Gray Man but he could be addressing a number of people from Declan to Kavinsky to Niall to Gansey throughout the song. 

•I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) — Maura Sargent and her terrible taste in men! First verse and chorus about Artemus and Calla and Persephone shaking their heads in the background, then the second time with The Gray Man Calla again shaking her head. 

•loml — Jordeclan, but specifically a Jordan pov song after Declan chooses death by fairy market over her could either say this is her thought process in a middle bit that we didn’t get to see or an au where Declan did die and/or she did leave him for a bit after this.

•I Can Do It With A Broken Heart — Adam song. I think you could read it as in the first verse / go of the chorus the “him” being referred to is Gansey post DC but then in the second verse/chorus it’s Ronan in mister impossible era. His whole thing with masking/not paying attention to his feelings through both series and literally “faking it to make it” at Harvard… I can pass this test… the tonally upbeat music and devastating lyrics. Soo him. 

•The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived — Rovinsky break up song. I think the first verse and chorus is K pov but the rest of the song is Ronan’s pov. 

•The Alchemy — another song with both Pynch and Bluesey vibes but this one I’m giving to Pynch overall. The whole high school relationship currently long distance but I’ll always come back to you thing. 

•Clara Bow — for a minute I thought I really would have to give up on making this one about trc, but then I thought about the whole theme of women mirroring each other Blue and Gwenllian and the tapestry of girls with Blue’s face, their literal mirror powers, the 300 fox way women and how you see something of all of them in Blue / she’s a product of them, Hennessy and her clones, Mor and Aurora. So yeah general vibes of that theme. 

Bonus Tracks 

•The Black Dog — Pynch divorce bop. Adam pov. 

• imgonnagetyouback — Bluedam, now you may be thinking that I’m just assigning this one because I already think get him back! by Olivia Rodrigo is a Bluedam song (see previous web weaving) and this song is just a worse version of that song, and you’d be right that’s why I’m saying it. 

•The Albatross — Bluesey. Gansey associating the color blue with death, learning Blue is his death, being fascinated by her and falling for her more and more the more he accepts his own death… 

• Chloe or Sam or Sofia or Marcus — this is all about romantic drama/a love square between Blue Henry Gansey and Adam, different parts of it are from Gansey or Adam’s pov primarily about each other but they refer to Henry or Blue at different points. The Adansey divorce to Sarchengsey to Chengsey divorce pipeline song essentially. 

• How Did It End? — Adansey!! literally “he was a hothouse flower to my outdoorsmen, our melodies were such we could not cure them” I won’t just go through every lyric but every lyric just screams Adanseycore, as many of her songs about divorce do. 

•So High School — Pynch. “You know how to ball I know Aristotle” referring to Ronan playing tennis is an especially fun aspect. 

• I Hate it Here — Adam, first verse and chorus could be DC party Adam and then as it goes on it’s Adam at Harvard thinking all the things he won’t say to the crying club, and then it’s Adam about Henrietta. 

•thanK you alMee — Declan song centered on his conflicted grief/hatred of Niall. 

 •I Look in People’s Windows — Adam observing the wealthy/people he envies. 

•The Prophecy — Blue song. Elements of Bluesey obviously but mostly about Blue who won’t let fate define her and is brave when she’s afraid, begging for a different fate for Maura when she’s missing for Gansey and Noah, for herself when she wants things from the future that seem impossible for so many reasons. “And I look unstable gathered with a coven around a sorceress table” so the bath tub scene with her and her mom and Aunts! 

•Cassandra — Gwenllian Glendower anthem! 

•Peter — Adam pov Adansey song 😭 I already made a web weaving explaining this and if I tried to again with words I’d throw up and die, but this is the most trc coded song on the album other than the prophecy. 

•The Bolter — Hennessy song. First verse refers to her childhood trauma, The chorus fits Jordanessy and their mi scene with the cars so well and the whole repeatedly dying thing is obviously very Mister Impossible plot coded and also the cyclical nature of her lace dreams are reflected here. 

•Robin — Adansey. “way to go tiger”. 

•The Manuscript — Blue x Henry pining era song post Sarchengsey divorce. 

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (03)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, obs3 is kinda oc centric 🤔, a mention of death but like a hypothetical death??, mentions of being *emotionally* haunted, taehyung almost dies 😭, someone so hot and cocky and petty that you might die, oh and tswift references because obviously

rating: PG-13

word count: 7.8k

note: asdfghjkl it’s been a hot minute guys. this was supposed to be longer but i decided last minute that some bits would probably work better in obs4, so no jimin and hobi today 🤥

vote for the revenge 🍆 😈 here before obs4!

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young

Cardigan - Taylor Swift

Sometimes, you cry in your sleep.

When you were a kid, aged four or five, you often had nightmares about going to kindergarten. It was all very dramatic. You would wake up with tears and snot running down your face, wailing like someone was taking your candy, calling for your mother until you made sure that you were in fact at home, instead of locked away in the absolute hell that was preschool.

As you got older, you started having nightmares about a wider variety of things, but it was usually about someone passing away – your mother, to be specific – and your body would always shake itself awake as the imaginary devastation wreaked its havoc, taunted you, toying with the idea of losing a person you loved. You used to think your brain was a special kind of fucked up.

Regardless, you noticed a pattern in how your subconscious worked. Instead of monsters and demons and every horrifying urban legend mentioned on Creepypasta, it would plague you with your greatest fears and your own worst memories. You tend to burst at the seams just like that, tortured by your own damn mind.

When you opened your eyes this morning, a tear immediately rolled down your cheek onto the pillow, and a hollow, stricken feeling greeted you good morning as it settled in your ribcage, making a home next to your heart. You felt it seep into every vein and every pore before you were even fully awake.

Though this time, it wasn’t a dream about someone dying. Quite the opposite, actually. In fact, it was a nice moment that your brain chose to replay in your head as you slept, though the memory seems to have slipped your mind now that you’re trying to escape the sudden anguish in your chest.

You can’t recall what it was, but you remember the feeling. You remember that it was nice. A nice and happy memory, with Jungkook.

You don’t know why your subconscious has to agonize you like this. Every time it forces you to remember Jungkook and who he was, it adds another invisible scar that only you can see. Fantasy keeps making you relive him, and reality keeps ripping him away from you.

You aren’t an emotional person, or you didn’t use to be anyway. You think – no, scratch that, you know – that it must be the result of your mother’s emotional unavailability throughout your whole childhood. Whenever you tripped and fell, or accidentally burned your tongue on a hot drink, or got teased by the neighbor kids, your first resort is to cry because that’s what children do. They get hurt, and they cry. But then your crying would cease after a few minutes, because your mother would scold you into stopping. She conditioned vulnerability out of you since you were a kid.

Even as you’ve grown up and learned to distance yourself from her, to separate her wants from yours, to be your own person instead of someone that your mother was trying to revive her long lost dreams through, you still hear her words sometimes. You can’t be anyone if you’re weak.

You can’t say that it’s entirely her fault. That’s the generational difference between the two of you, and the hypocritical standards to which the world operated in her time are really to blame. In a way, she was just a victim, a byproduct of that hypocrisy. But she tried to pass that onto you, and for some reason, you can’t let go of the fact that she did manage to instill in you some of her aversion for vulnerability.

By the time that you met Jungkook, you had already been away from your mother for a while. You weren’t estranged, but you weren’t on the best terms that a mother and her daughter should be on. You started to be independent from her halfway through high school and gradually, because she stopped being the person who gave you the clothes off your back and put food on your table, you took away the right she thought she had to rule over every aspect of your life.

And despite that disdain for vulnerability that you at a young age had no choice but to internalize, you became the one to decide what to feel, and how to feel it. You decided that maybe being emotional wasn’t the worst thing after all. It’s normal to cry when you’re sad, or in pain, or when you’re neither but you just simply need to let out a good cry. 

You reckon that’s where it came from – your need to be in charge, to be in control of everything. If you’re the one in the driver’s seat, then other people have less power to hurt you.

But not Jungkook. Never Jungkook.

It applies to everyone else, but you don’t suppose Jungkook has ever played by your rules.

Being with him was easy. You were surprised how little effort it took to let him in because you were once convinced that there was no chance you would ever be able to stand him. Loving him made breathing seem hard. 

In your relationship with Jungkook, there was nothing to decide. You didn’t have to choose to be happy; he just made you happy. As long as you were with him, every house was a home. Until he pulled the rug and you reverted to being that little kid again, on the ground with bloodied knees. He was the calm, and he was the storm.

You had no say in him leaving you, and you had no say in how his swift exit from your life would affect you. For the longest time, there was just a lot of heartache that demanded to be felt.

In the first few months after it happened, you were practically debilitated by the sadness. Taehyung still remembers it all too well. You spent your weekend evenings drowning your sorrows by knocking back drink after drink until you couldn’t remember who you were trying to forget. You could barely even function, and it was fucking pathetic. It was the most helpless you had ever felt.

It wasn’t until Taehyung and Jimin took away your most effective distraction that you started choosing again. If your mother made you choose to feel, then Jungkook made you do the opposite. He taught you that maybe your mother wasn’t so wrong after all. Maybe she’d been hurt before. Maybe she was only keeping you from having to experience it. Maybe this was how she loved you.

You took it one day at a time. Baby steps. Because the only way to condition your heart to not love Jungkook, was to convince yourself that you hated him. You forced yourself to internalize it until you believed it.

You hated him.

You hated him.

You hated him.

And it worked, because he wasn’t there to tell your heart otherwise. Choosing not to love Jungkook is choosing to love yourself.

But in your dreams, in your sleep, however, it’s another story. The difference between feeling when you’re awake, sober, and feeling when you’re asleep, is the control. When your lines of defense are down, all hell breaks loose.

Your subconscious is a strange place. If the hurt was a house, then you’d be its most treasured occupant. But this house is haunted. You walk through the halls every day, and down the stairs, and into rooms that are filled with memories of you and him. The walls echo I love you, the curtains rustle with whispers of I miss you, but every night, when you settle into a bed that is only warm on one side, you feel the distinct absence of an I’m sorry.

Jungkook didn’t even say sorry to you, not when it mattered the most.

Funny enough, right across the street is the healing, but you’ve never really been able to get close to it. With every step you take, the distance seems to stretch longer and longer, until you’re just running in place trying to get to the other side. Eventually, you get tired of trying, and even though the hurt is a hellscape purely designed to make you suffer, you think you would rather go back to that house than be stuck in the hollow limbo in the middle of nowhere, looking at a better future just within reach but never really getting there. It’s cold in the void, and it’s warmer in the hurt because there, at least it’s familiar.

Sometimes, you’d stand in the bedroom, wrapped in a blanket of your own insecurities and regrets, and look out the window. The floorboards beneath your unsteady feet creak with the voices of everybody who has left you, everybody who was taken from you, everybody who deemed you unworthy of their love and time.

You’d stand there and see a glimpse of yourself in a better world, where you’re a little less lonely, a little less hollow, a little less of a shadow of your former self. You could see yourself be happy, even.

You know that it’s there. It’s all about making the active decision to move forward. But the brighter future that awaits you just ahead is one without Jungkook, and… you’ve never been sure if you really want that.

It takes some more effort than usual to breathe, and to sit up, and to get out of bed, and to start your day like everything is fine and like you aren’t knee deep in one of your unwanted sad girl hours. It’s unwanted because you didn’t choose this. You’ve been actively choosing to not be sad about Jungkook for so long that you almost forgot there was a time where you had no choice but to be sad about him.

He only came back into your life recently, and he hasn’t done anything – not really – and yet, he’s already threatening to undo what you’ve taught yourself and all the progress you’ve made.

You don’t know if he kept his promise of leaving first thing in the morning since you aren’t exactly an early riser, but he did leave before you woke up. And when you paddle out into the kitchen, for some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

You’re surprised to see Taehyung there, looking at you awkwardly and holding a bag of pastries in his hands. On the kitchen counter next to him is a plate of toasts and scrambled eggs with a side of kimchi. An odd combo but it’s your odd combo. There’s some steam that’s still rising from the food.

Taehyung nods toward the counter and sets his croissants on the dining table. He addresses an elephant in the room but not the elephant in the room.

“I got your favorites, but it looks like you already have your breakfast.”

“Oh, uh…” You purse your lips and swallow, recognizing that Taehyung didn’t buy food to bring over and then made you some more food. You’re hungry, but you don’t feel like you can stomach anything right now. “You can have that… I’ll take what you got me.”

He nods and doesn’t say anything else. He maneuvers around the familiar space of your kitchen to get some orange juice from the fridge. Taehyung offers to make you a cup of tea even though it’s your apartment, but you decline and choose to munch on the croissants dryly.

The atmosphere is off at your dining table. 

Yours and Taehyung’s love language is food. It’s sad how you can’t even share this nice thing with him today.

Taehyung takes a hesitant bite of the eggs, as if he’s scared that you’ll jump over the table to take back your plate. It’s just breakfast.

Neither of you says anything about who spent the night on your couch just out in the living room, nor about who made the food that Taehyung is eating. 

To anyone else, there probably isn’t even something to talk about. You provided someone shelter and they made you some food as a gesture of appreciation. And maybe that really is the case with this. You gave Jungkook a place to stay so he wouldn’t risk his life in the heavy rain and in return, he scrambled some eggs and toasted some bread for you.

You’re overthinking it. There’s no deeper layer of meaning here.

You’re half present and half somewhere far away. Words slip from your mouth as you converse with Taehyung but you don’t know what the conversation is even about. One of those times where you’re talking but not really saying anything.

“So…” Taehyung trails off unsuredly. You chuckle, knowing what he’s trying to do. It’s warmer in your chest, where your heart soars with affection for Kim Taehyung. You love him so much, you love him wholeheartedly. You cannot even begin to fathom what life would be like without him.

You’re grateful that your friend doesn’t press for information; he must sense from the way you’re idly picking at the flakes of your croissant that you would talk about it in your own time. You take the reins that he’s handing you, letting you steer the conversation in whichever way you want to.

“You went off about private jets last night. What was that all about?”

“Celebrities these days, man,” he grumbles, sounding exaggeratingly aggravated. “Did you know that Kylie Jenner takes flights on her jet for less than 20 minutes? Twenty whole minutes? I mean, what the fuck is up with that? Complete disregard for the environment.”

With a scoff, you pretend to be annoyed. “I knew you weren’t listening to me. I told you about her 3-minute flight last month, you ass.”

He leans back, still chewing, and thinks, though after approximately fifteen seconds, he announces with no remorse, “Yeah, I don’t really listen when you tell me celebrity gossip.”

You gasp and chuck a croissant flake in his direction. It doesn’t make it very far, and lands on the eggs instead.

“Then why are you suddenly so invested? How do you even know who Kylie Jenner is now, and how she uses her jets?”

“Hey! I know who Kylie Jenner is!” He seems offended, but then adds in a smaller voice, “Sort of.” Classic Taehyung, always living under a rock. “The point is, my sister kept sending me articles about it and I thought, “Huh. Private jets. The environment. Billionaires. Celebrities.” We– well, you, aren’t that far removed from that. You’re working with one of them right now.”

You give him a look.

“What?” Taehyung shrugs. “Jin must have his own jet too, right?”

You don’t know. It isn’t a topic that would casually come up in conversation, nor does he go around bragging about it. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he does own a jet, though. The amount of zeroes decorating his very Googleable net worth makes you woozy if you think about it too much.

You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I bet he does,” Taehyung says, leaning forward on his elbows as if he’s got some insider scoop you aren’t privy to. “And I bet you won’t remember this conversation when Jin offers to fly you to award shows on his jet.”

Maybe there’s some truth about speaking things into existence and the universe conspiring to make it happen. Manifesting and all that. The law of attraction and whatnot. Speak positive things into existence and you shall receive positive outcomes. Think negative thoughts and you will attract the shittiest things the cosmos has ever birthed.

You aren’t really a believer in this, but you’d rather not take your chances. Not if everyone and their mother are screaming about the universe and its infinite possibilities all the time.

You suppose that’s why you haven’t really talked to Taehyung lately when it comes to your Jungkook predicament, not since he reentered your life oh so gracefully. Talking about it makes it seem like a bigger deal than you want it to be. Talking about your feelings makes it harder to ignore that they’re there.

Jungkook certainly isn’t making things easier for you. You thought that he was getting too buddy-buddy before, but if last Saturday proved anything, he definitely has room to crank it up a few notches. It’s fair, because he did spend the night, and if this was a romcom, the two of you would have successfully sailed past the ice breaking point. This would be the part of the movie where the characters grow closer, and where the romance blooms.

But this is not a movie and Jungkook doesn’t seem to fucking remember that he’s the person that broke your heart. 

Not once has he addressed the elephant in the room, which you suppose isn’t something you can complain about. You don’t want him to bring it up either, the fact that you once knew him better than anyone in the world, and he knew you. You all know how that story ended.

Actually, you don’t. You just know that it ended.

“Good morning,” a voice greets from beside you. You register who it is even before you turn around, and you register that as of right now, you’re the only ones standing here, waiting for the elevator.

“Morning,” you say, though your voice is considerably less enthusiastic. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though. He smiles, and the curl of his lips looks almost as inviting as the coffee you’re holding in your hand. The beverage is full and warm against your fingers. You’ve yet to take a sip, and you tell yourself that the weariness fogging up your brain is the reason why you think his expression is just a little bit endearing, and why your heart rate picks up just a couple beats because of it.

The elevator dings. When Jungkook steps in, you hesitate. 

“You coming?” he asks, slightly confused.

You wait for a beat, your grip tightening on the paper cup, like you’d be able to summon someone else to waltz in there right this second just so you wouldn’t be alone with him. On a Monday morning at that. Life is truly testing you.

And because life is testing you, no one shows up to rescue you. If you concentrate hard enough, maybe Taehyung will magically materialize out of thin air…

You suck it up and step in though, because you don’t want to look like a weirdo in front of your ex, and whoever might be watching the security cameras.

The doors close, trapping you in this metal death box and its commercial background jingle. 

“How was the rest of your weekend?” Jungkook asks. Small talk – it’s one of the things you dislike the most. And coming from him of all people?

“It was fine,” you say curtly, but you know he’ll keep prodding.

And he does. “What did you do on Sunday?”

“Y’know, just catching up on sleep, catching up on some TV shows…”

Jungkook frowns, and he’s glad that you aren’t looking at him to see it. That night, you were kind to him. You managed to have a good conversation or two. You made him dinner and you let him sleep over. Granted, you might have only done it out of politeness and not genuine hospitality. You could’ve let him go when he was packing up to leave, but you didn’t. You were kinder to him than he ever expected you to be when this project forced you two together again, and he knows that he’s in no position to hope for anything else.

But here he is anyway, asking for more.

In the time that he takes to think of what else to say to you, to goad you into actually speaking to him, the elevator has already reached your floor. You step out without a word, and Jungkook sinks just a little bit.

But he carries on. He follows you to where the studio is, though he deliberately keeps himself a few paces behind you to not crowd the space you’re silently asking from him. It’s barely 9:30 in the morning; he can see that you’re tired, and you haven’t had your coffee, and the last thing you need is probably Jungkook trying to push it when he has the option not to.

He watches you open the door and promptly stop. Seokjin and Namjoon are already there, animatedly conversing with someone whose back faces you. Seokjin’s manager and an unfamiliar older woman stand in the back of the room, engaged in their own chat, though theirs seems much calmer and formal than the three men in the center.

Jungkook watches your brows slightly furrow in confusion. The gears in your head turn until everything clicks. Your eyes light up immediately. 

“Oh my God…” You almost drop the latte in your hand once you realize who it is, and why Namjoon is fawning over him like a teenager. The mysterious man is the second most famous person in the room just after Seokjin. You rush forward, your entire body buzzing with so much excitement that it makes all traces of fatigue evaporate. “Yoongi!”

Everybody in the room turns to the sound of your shrill voice as you squeal loudly, grinning from ear to ear to see your friend again after so long. It’s been, what, almost half a year now?

“Hey, kiddo,” Yoongi greets you, his voice even and cool though he’s sporting the same bright smile as you are. His hair is longer than the last time you saw him. He looks even more handsome than you remember. “Long time no see. How’s my favorite poet doing?”

Jungkook quietly makes his way past the two of you to drop his stuff on the table in the back before he shuffles to the circle of conversation, opting to stand next to Yoongi. He gives Seokjin and Namjoon a small smile and a nod in greeting, and watches on as the scene before them unfolds. You seemed too tired to even give him two sentences in the elevator, but you definitely don’t look anything like it now.

“When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me?” You punch Yoongi playfully in the arm, and he pretends to clutch the point of contact as if he’s been severely wounded, just like how you used to joke around together in the studio. You roll your eyes, and he shoots you a wink in return.

“Relax, I just got back a few days ago. I wanted it to be a surprise for you. You should’ve seen the look on your face. It was so worth it,” Yoongi admits, still smiling. He takes the coffee cup from your hand and unceremoniously knocks it against the chest of the person on his left – Jungkook. A firm Hold this, like he was merely passing it to a personal assistant. “Are you at least gonna give me a hug, little one?”

Yoongi opens his arms, awaiting your embrace which you give him after half a minute of pretending to consider it. Your arms go around his middle while his own wrap around your shoulders. He’s warm, and his scent is comforting. You’ve missed your connection with Yoongi, and the friendship he’s given you. You’ve missed him.

The thing that makes your relationship with Yoongi different from your relationship with Taehyung, or Jimin, or anyone else, is the context through which your friendship bloomed.

You met him when you were starting to come into your own as a writer, when you were developing your voice and style. Working with him gave you your big break, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t play an important role in helping you find your identity in this sphere of life. Yoongi understands you in ways that Taehyung and Jimin never could because they don’t know what it’s like to do what you do, no more than you could understand what it’s like to be a museum curator or a dancer. And Yoongi understands you in ways that Jungkook would have if he had been there.

When you pull away from the hug, Jungkook is quick to thrust the coffee back into your hand. You mutter a small Thanks without even meeting his eyes. Yoongi ruffles your hair affectionately, and it makes you shuffle away in faux annoyance, even though you’re laughing.

“Before you so rudely interrupted us, I was introducing myself,” Yoongi chides, shaking his head in your direction like a disappointed teacher. He turns to his left then, a smug grin on his face as he looks Jungkook over. “If he’s Namjoon, then you must be the famous Jungkook? What a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”

The confusion flashing in Jungkook’s eyes has you stiffening slightly as you watch their interaction. You were so delighted by Yoongi’s surprise appearance that you forgot he’s one of the three people in the room who knows about your history with Jungkook.

The younger man straightens his posture and extends a hand in Yoongi’s direction, his expression blank and his voice flat as he says, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m very much looking forward to working with you, Yoongi.”

“Oh please,” the rapper laughs, taking the offered hand and shaking it vigorously. It’s too much, almost comical. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you want to dig a hole to crawl into because this is not what you expected at all. “Call me Mr. Min.”

Seokjin and Namjoon break into chuckles alongside Yoongi, but you only purse your lips. Jungkook doesn’t seem to find anything humorous either, because his hand stops as he stares at Yoongi, and you don’t have to stand between them to feel trapped in the middle.

“Oh come on, it’s a joke. Lighten up, buddy,” Yoongi finally says. That grin is still on his face, and his tone is almost patronizing. “Jeez, this guy must be fun at parties.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you for a second, his tongue poking into his cheek. You can tell that he’s annoyed. You’re not sure if Seokjin and Namjoon notice it, but even if they do, you doubt that they would think much of it.

Someone that you recognize as Yoongi’s manager says to Jungkook in a calm voice, “You’ll have to excuse him. Yoongi takes some getting used to.” 

In the end, Jungkook forces out a laugh to ease the tension, so you all can move on.

Before you can slither away to your own corner of the room to put down your bag and coffee, Yoongi pulls you back to his side with an arm resting comfortably around your shoulders. You give him a warning glare that you know he understands, but he just shrugs against your body. Underneath that smug and phlegmatic exterior, Yoongi seems almost protective, and it’s almost unsettling.

“So fellas,” he says confidently to the room, “what’s the first order of business?”

“What business?” You frown. “You have one feature, and we’re not finished writing yet.”

Seokjin steps in to address whatever it is that’s making Yoongi look like he could be the king of the world. “Actually,” he starts, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about today.”

The second surprise of the day is Min Yoongi calling himself the Jack Antonoff to Kim Seokjin’s Taylor Swift. The second surprise is Agust D being a much more prominent part of the album than just a simple feature. The second surprise is Yoongi practically begging Seokjin for a job much below his pay grade just because he heard your name and Jungkook’s in the same sentence. The man actually dove right into this after his tour ended, without even a moment to catch his breath, just because he’s petty. And it’s weird because your situation doesn’t even concern him.

That’s another thing that you and Yoongi have in common: You’re both petty. 

When Seokjin first announced the news, you were practically vibrating. Yoongi as a producer? Get the fuck out. The other artistic pea in your creative pod? You were already overjoyed when you thought you would only be getting him for a feature, but for him to actually hop on board as producer and you get the chance to make another album with him? You’re elated, because the man is brilliant.

But then the excitement died down when the realization set in…

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

“Yoongi!”

“Y/N!”

You huff out a breath and groan internally. He has never been shy to show that he enjoys teasing you. Every time he gets a reaction out of you, he would coo like you were a baby and call you adorable. 

Yoongi leans back as he watches you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. The two of you are sitting in the booth that he always requests, in the back of his favorite restaurant. You managed to pry him away from the studio earlier, telling the guys that you’d love to grab lunch with him to catch up.

It wasn’t a lie; you do want to sit down with your friend and listen to everything that has transpired in his life since the last time you saw each other. But he’s been here for a few hours and he has already made your job so much more difficult by being a passive aggressive dickhead to Jungkook. You can’t focus on making a good album for Seokjin if you have to run interference on Yoongi and Jungkook all day.

“What was that this morning?” You cross your arms as you stare at him.

“What was what?” Yoongi tilts his head innocently.

“You know what, Min. All the nicknames, the cocky attitude. Treating Jungkook like he’s your secretary. You made him get coffee for you!”

He scoffs and reaches forward for his glass of water. “Come on, that was funny. I thought you’d enjoy that.”

“Well, I didn’t. It’s exhausting enough to be around him all the time. I don’t want to have to babysit you too.”

You see where he’s coming from, you really do. If your friend had an ex who flipped their entire world upside down, you certainly wouldn’t be the friendliest gal toward that person either. You appreciate Yoongi looking out for you, but he has to understand that this is your place of work, and while you and him are friends, you still live in different worlds. You aren’t a world-renowned, jetsetting heartthrob like him and Seokjin; you can’t afford to screw up opportunities because you know they don’t grow on trees.

Yoongi softens when he sees the look on your face, but he stands by his actions. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he murmurs across the table, “but can’t Jungkook handle a few jabs here and there? The guy deserves it. If you could listen to yourself when you told me everything that went down between the two of you–”

“I was drunk,” you interject, as if that counterpoint would ever hold up. Drunk words are sober thoughts, or whatever it is that people say.

“Being drunk was the only reason why you were honest with me,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle.

“It’s…” you sigh, “it’s not even about whether he deserves it or not. I just don’t want everyone at work to know my business.”

A waitress comes over to your table with your orders then. Your eyes follow her movements as she sets the plates down, while Yoongi’s eyes follow you. When she’s finished, you thank her with a smile, and Yoongi compromises.

He rubs his palms and clasps them together. “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll put him through the wringer, but I’ll keep your name out of it. No one will know about your history. Let Jungkook think I’m just an asshole, I don’t care.”

It’s not ideal, because you would rather have Yoongi act like he doesn’t know anything at all. Like he’s just as clueless as Seokjin and Namjoon and like to him, you and Jungkook have never been more than a pair of coworkers. But this is the most that Yoongi would settle for because he’s annoying like that sometimes.

“Fine,” you agree with great reluctance. You pick up a fork and point it in his direction. “Since you’re an asshole, you’re paying for lunch.”

He swats your fork away, laughing. “It’s cute that you thought I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard you and Jungkook went to college together, right? Were you close?”

Were you close?

This is a normal thing to ask. Anyone would ask this if they knew two people who had a prior history with each other. When you found out that Yoongi ran in the same circles as Seokjin, you asked him if they were close too.

But when the question came from Seokjin much later that afternoon, while the four of you were just sitting around, enjoying a much needed break after three nonstop hours of testing Seokjin’s acoustics and an instrumental demo that Jungkook worked on last week.

You don’t even know how Seokjin got to that question from you mindlessly recalling the strenuous process of learning music theory in college, but nevertheless, here you are, put on the spot.

It’s a simple yes-no question, though saying no would prompt even more queries, and saying yes would… well, what would saying yes mean?

Seokjin and Namjoon are looking at you. Jungkook is looking at you. You’re glad that Yoongi left after he dropped you off. If he were here, he would be awaiting your answer too.

There’s a lot you wish you could let out. You swallow thickly, but the words just won’t go down.

You want to say… Yes, we were close. We were close in the same way that the name of someone’s first love can be inscribed on their heart and never fade away. If you could hold my beating heart in your hands, and if you had a key to open it, I think you would find his initials there. The letters might be messily scribbled, might be crossed out by harsh lines of ink and rewritten again in a different font, but they’re still there, and they will always be there.

Yes, we were close. He knew me inside and out, better than the back of his own hand. He knew me like we came from the same star, destined to find one another before we were even us. 

Yes, we were close. He was the person I loved the most, my favorite person in the whole entire world. I think, and I hope, that I was someone he loved too…

Despite the words lodged in your throat, you aren’t in a position to voice any of it. So you push them down — a conscious and routine decision — and shove them into your box of memories again.

You scratch the back of your neck as you look at Jungkook and he looks at you, eyes conveying something you’re not willing to understand. In the end, you settle for a response that doesn’t really answer Seokjin’s question. But even if your words don’t clear anything up, your hesitation ought to have given something away.

It’s the opposite of what you told Jungkook when he showed up at your door for the first time in five years.

“We were… friends.”

When Taehyung comes home from work the next day, he almost fucking dies.

It’s a regular evening. On the drive home, he thought about the leftover pasta waiting for him in the fridge because he was absolutely starving. He thought about which documentary he was going to watch while he ate his dinner. He thought about telling you that his sister got an acceptance letter from her dream college. You’ve always loved her, and he knows you would be over the moon to share her joy as if she was your own family.

Yeah, just a regular Tuesday evening.

Until he opens the door to his apartment and screams loud enough to alarm the entire building.

“What the fuck!” His keys clatter to the floor as the man clutches his chest in an attempt to calm his heart. Laughter bounces off Taehyung’s walls, in total contrast to his heavy breaths from almost going into cardiac arrest.

“Hi, bud,” you manage to say through tears from your place on the couch in his living room, where you’ve been waiting for the past hour and a half in complete silence and darkness. Your ears hurt from him almost taking out your hearing and your eyes have to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room when Taehyung switched on the lights, but it was so worth the laugh. You wish you could’ve captured his face on camera.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your friend grumbles as he hangs up his jacket and picks up his keys to throw in the ceramic bowl by the small entryway.

“I texted you to come over but you never replied.”

Taehyung fishes his phone from the pocket of his slacks and throws it in your direction, which you clumsily catch. “My phone died.”

“Where’s the powerbank I got you for your birthday?”

He walks over to plop down next to you on the couch. The cushions dip under his weight, and you scootch over to make more room for him.

“I left it at home.”

You slap a hand over his pec, your face unimpressed. “There’s no point in getting you anything.”

“Don’t do that,” he bemoans, rubbing the spot on his chest that you just hit. “My heart is still racing. You scared the fucking shit out of me.”

You reach over to pat his soft hair as an apology before you tip your head back in another fit of giggles. “Sorry! But in my defense, you know I do shit like this. This is not the first time you’ve gone through this.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung mutters. “Why did you need me to come over? I was looking forward to a relaxing night all by myself.”

You shuffle closer until your head can rest on his shoulder. “I have gossip.”

“Celebrity gossip?”

“My gossip.”

“Gossip?” He raises an eyebrow as he glances down at you. “Or gossip?”

You take some seconds to decipher which category the Yoongi news would fit into, and which category the revelation that Namjoon dropped in your lap earlier today would fit into. “Both,” you conclude. 

“Namjoon told you that Jungkook lied?”

“He didn’t know that Jungkook lied. I pieced it together.”

“Hmm.”

Your fingers curl around the steaming mug of tea that Taehyung made for each of you. You bring the ceramic close to your face to breathe in the soothing scent of jasmine rising from the beverage. 

Taehyung takes a sip of his drink before he asks, “And how do you feel about that?”

You don’t answer right away, though you knew this question was inevitable. How do you feel about it? The fact that Namjoon didn’t actually have a family emergency when he dropped Jungkook at your apartment when the three of you were supposed to brainstorm together. The fact that when they pulled up in front of your building, Jungkook told Namjoon that he could go home if he wanted to, that Jungkook didn’t want to make him work on a day off. The fact that despite Namjoon saying it was completely fine, Jungkook practically insisted that he go home.

When Namjoon told you about it a few hours ago, your first thought was to tell Taehyung. It wasn’t Namjoon’s intention, of course. He didn’t know. He was asking you about some of the edits to the lyrics made in his absence, and it just came out.

You deliberately waited until you could sit down and talk to your best friend to sort through your thoughts because if you did it alone, you would surely spiral. Because this isn’t Taehyung’s first Jungkook-related rodeo with you; he knows how to handle you in times like these.

“I think this is fucking me up again,” you say honestly. Taehyung is the only person that you’ve admitted any of this to; the only person that you can admit any of this to. “I just want to do my job. Jungkook shouldn’t be allowed to maintain any kind of relationship with me outside of work! But all of a sudden he’s spending the night and asking me about my love life. It’s been years. Why is he still affecting me? Why am I still here?”

Here. Between the past and the future. The limbo parallel to the present.

Sure, maybe it’s for the better that Jungkook doesn’t bring it up. You would rather that this stay between the two of you (and, cue a heavy sigh, Yoongi). You know Seokjin and Namjoon are decent people, and their opinion of you wouldn’t change if they knew about this, but you would rather your place of work be drama-free.

So yes, maybe it is better this way. But it would be best if Jungkook treats you like a mere coworker. If he acts like you simply don’t exist outside of the studio. If he could stop making your already messed up heart even more confused. All of that would be better than whatever the fuck he’s doing now.

Asking about your love life. Being attentive. Smiling around you. Bringing you the drink you once loved. Lying so he would get you alone! 

It doesn’t even matter if he wants a blank slate, because he can’t undo the damage he caused just by batting his eyelashes at you and pretending like everything is fine and dandy.

Maybe Jungkook hasn’t said anything because he himself would rather forget all about it too. You could understand this to a certain extent, because no one wants to be reminded that they’ve hurt others. But he did cause you pain. He did hurt you. The scars that your soul bears are proof of that.

To not say anything at all and have the nerve to act like he cares about you. It’s… cowardly. He’s still continuing to hurt you by doing this. You always thought you deserve better than this.

“Because you keep saying that you hate Jungkook, but you don’t,” Taehyung says. He’s right, you know he’s right. This lie might have been your lifeline before, might have worked once upon a time but Jungkook is here to call your bluff now. “Because you didn’t get any closure.”

Sometimes you forget that Taehyung can be quite the relationship guru despite never having gone through a serious relationship himself. There’s something wistful about him whenever you two have a serious talk like this that makes you wonder if his heart has ever experienced the same kind of sorrow that yours did, and if he just never told you about it.

You pout, despite the gravity of his words and the tension that weighs heavy on you. “I should hate him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees with a chuckle and a sip of tea, “you probably should.”

“I can’t just throw myself into work this time,” you think out loud. It isn’t lost on you that the thing you’ve been using to cope, to distract yourself, is the same thing that has led you back to square one.

The scented candle that you lit and put on the coffee table is burning out. You watch the small flame flicker wildly around the charred wick, like it’s holding onto its final moments of life before time inevitably runs out. You feel oddly sad just looking at it struggling to keep its light, until it finally dies in a tiny whirl of smoke.

“Maybe I should start dating again.” You mean this as a joke, because god knows the last time you tried getting out there again, you were left with a memory so mortifying that sometimes when you reminisce on the experience, you still shudder with embarrassment.

It was the first time that you had gone out clubbing in a while, with a few girls from your internship, and with the intention of capping the night off with a handsome stranger who would make you feel things you hadn’t for some time. Courtesy of lame dating advice you found online.

A few shots in, and through the haze of smoke and booze and busy bodies illuminated by an array of colorful lights, you did manage to find the someone that you were hoping for — tall, handsome, oozing so much charisma that it should’ve been a huge red flag. But you weren’t looking for a big sparkly diamond on your ring finger or a tropical honeymoon somewhere with crystal clear waters. You were just looking for someone.

It went surprisingly well, until it didn’t. Until you started sobbing on the dancefloor of a crowded club, in front of a man who looked at you like you were crazy and like he couldn’t wait to make you someone else’s problem then. Until you had to call Taehyung to come pick you up at 3 in the morning when the entire world was dead asleep. All because the stranger had asked Your place or mine? and a sobering thought washed over you, a sharp reminder that home was not somewhere you could return to anymore.

You knew it then, and you know it now, that even though your world once revolved around Jungkook, it doesn’t always have to be. There is life after him. There is still a you after him.

“You would really consider that?” Taehyung asks.

“I mean, I kinda have to at some point. I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to die alone. You have me.”

You chuckle tiredly. “No, you’ll find someone who is as big of an art geek as you are, and you’ll have lots of babies and grow old together. And I’ll be the kooky lady with 13 dogs who comes around every once in a while to give your children candy.”

Taehyung sets down his empty mug before settling into a comfortable position on the couch, his back against the cushions and his feet propped on the glass surface of the table in front of you. He reaches across the couch to hold your hand. He skirts around the part about the future love of his life.

“13? That’s a specific number,” he comments.

“I like Taylor Swift.”

You both laugh lightly at the reference. Days of badgering him about one of the greatest songwriters of our generation have finally paid off.

Silence envelopes the room for a moment as you both wander off in your own bubble of thought. Until Taehyung knocks his knee against yours and you both fall back into reality again.

“Did Jimin text you about the grand opening on Friday?”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted october 24, 2022]

[earphonejackx]

For the fluff reguest, can I please have Himeko x long distance childhood friend headcanon?

☆ Himeno x long distance childhood friend! Reader

☆ ANGST, readers parents are dead, smoking, death, this story is a little rushed but well written

☆ Oh lord now when Himeno was a child I feel liked she’d probably had a shit ton of friends but they all are mostly dead or gone on with their lives, This caused Himeno to think that most of her Friends are dead (devil hunter mindset) and she would probably not wanna revisit those old memories but when she found out you were still alive?? Her childhood bestie?? Oh yeah you were in for a hell of a week with her

☆ Himeno was sooo happy when she found out you were still alive and well, when she got your new phone number she immediately called you and almost started crying on the phone in happiness

☆ You had to eventually calm her down because she was going crazy! Hearing your voice was probably the best thing that has happened in her miserable life so far. Himeno would take off from work immediately to visit you out in the country side, she had to tell Aki she had to meet up with an old friend, Aki was confused that she still had other “friends” outside of her devil hunting but she had to explain to him that she found out you were alive and went to go take a vist

☆ When Himeno got to the country side her heart began to swell again, she missed the feeling of fresh air, no devils and her old life but she didn’t dwell on it long because she had to meet you!

☆ When Himeno arrived at your house she immediately tackled you with a hug, she was all over you! She was so happy to see you again, alive and well.

☆ When you two finally finished your family reunion you immediately got drinks for the both of you to sit down and catch up with the stuff you both missed

☆ Since you do live out in the country side you barely care for the shit going on in the city, you had an easy going quiet life, however since Himeno lives in the city after being forced to she had to tell you about the dreadful but gracious things that came with living in the city

☆ You noticed When Himeno was sharing her stories she definitely was quite the smoker. She just couldn’t go without a cigarette, you hated the smell but didn’t complain as she just got here.

☆ Uh oh now it’s your turn to share and then the question hits you. “So [name] how are you parents nowadays?” Silence you paused for a second. “Uh hello [name] are you in there?” Himeno said waving her hands in your face. Then you explained to her, you parents where killed not too long ago by a certain devil… they left everything behind for you. Their farm, money, work, etc. it was a tragedy but it was bound to happen soon. You warned them about going into the city before the news came back to you.

☆ After Himeno found this out she was devastated, your parents where basically like her second parents they took care of her like they’re own. And hearing this made her regret not coming back sooner to say hello. She started to blame herself but you immediately stopped her and changes the subject.

☆ Then you immediately changed it to mentioning drinks, you two talked so much that the both of you were barely able to drink and get drunk out of you minds

☆ And then boom. 1, 2, 3…. 9, 10,11…14,15,… you lost count of how many drinks you’ve drowned yourself in. You found yourself slumped against the couch while Himeno was cuddling you half awake mumbling sweet nothingness, you immediately tried to get up but her weight felt like it was crushing you… maybe you’ll stay like this for awhile right? Right.

[arc-misadventures]

Will there be a continuation of ‘I will see you again~!’ ?

It leaves me with so many questions and wondering so many things.

It’s implied that everyone else was a girl so far so he’ll be the only boy with Jeanne being his twin. Will he hate Jeanne though as they grow up? Will he actually meet genuine friends?

Is our favourite noodle finally going to get happiness in this new world?

Love your stuff. Always looking forward to reading it.

We’re Together Once More~!

Saphron: Awww~!

Saphire: They’re so precious~!

Luna: How are they so cute together~ ?

Juniper: Is something going on?

Saphron: Look at the twins mom! Aren’t they just so cute~?!

Juniper: …

The Arc Matriarch overlooks the two year old twins on a blanket on the floor as, Jeanne was hugging her brother, rubbing her cheek against his fed up face.

Juniper: Awww~! That’s so precious~!

Sqphron: Look how much she loves her older brother~!

Luna: I’ve got photos!

~~~

Meanwhile in the world of the twins and their semi-telepathic twin link. Jaune was pushing his arms gainst, Jeanne’s face to get her off of him.

Jaune: J-Jeanne!

Jeanne: Mmm~! Big bro!

Jaune: Jeanne, get off of me!

Jeanne: Never! You’ll just run away from me if I do!

Jaune: Give me some space, and I promise I won’t leave!

Jeanne: Promise?

Jaune: Arc’s promise.

Jeanne: Mmm… Okay, but if run away from me, I’m chasing after you!

Jeanne then begrudgingly move away from, Jaune a respectful distance away. Still close enough to pounce him if he got any ideas.

Jaune: Ugh… why are you so clingy? My sisters in my past life were never this clingy! Except for, Carol… she was too clingy…Far too clingy for my liking…

Jeanne: Hey! I was devastated after I lost you in our past lives! Now, your my older brother! I’m not letting you get away from me that easily!

Jaune: Oh… I didn’t know you took my death that hard…

Jeanne: How could I not?! ‘Me,’ basically celebrating my death isn’t something one can easily get over. I did eventually… But, it took years for that to happen…

Jaune: It that how you saw my death; As if you were the one who died?

Jeanne: Well, we are the gender counterparts of each other. So, I always saw you as me, and me as you, in a certain way that is.

Jaune: Hmm… I can understand that…

Jeanne: Jaune… I know your life was hard… and, you knowing what my life was like made it harder for you to bare. But, your death didn’t make my life any easier. I saw your death as partially my fault; not that you sacrificed yourself to save others, that’s an, Arc thing to do. But, you were so at peace with it… That you were more than willing to die, and never have to deal with me again. That… the hurt more than I ever thought it could… So I am going to do everything in my power to make your life a better one than the last one! So, can you please do one thing, just one thing for me…?

Jaune: And, what would that be?

Jeanne: Don’t die. Don’t wish to die. Don’t wish to die to be rid of me. Live, live for me, for your family, and most important of all; Live for yourself. Can you promise me this? Please…?

Jaune looked away form his younger sister to stare into the eyes of his older sister, and mother, and saw the wealth of happiness, warmth, and joy in their faces as they stared upon them. He could feel a pool of guilt fill into his very being as he came to realize at long last they his death may have been liberating, but how many people did he hurt with his death?

He looked down as his small baby hands, clenching into fists as he recounted the mistakes he seemingly made in his past life. His mind only being broken away as he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, and a pair of warm eyes staring at him. He smiled, as he turned, to gaze upon his little sister, and pulled her into a warm hug, as he gently rubbed her back.

Jaune: I promise you, Jeanne I won’t go, and get myself killed. This time I’m going to live, for you, our family, and most of all for myself.

Jeanne: Arc’s promise?

Jaune: Arc’s promise.

~~~

The rest of the, Arc family cooed as they saw the siblings lovingly embrace one another.

Luna: More! I need more photos! NOW!!!

Juniper: Oh they are just so precious~!

Saphron: You would think that they’d be at each other’s throats. Being twins, and opposite genders, and all.

Saphire: Give them time. Siblings will eventually come into conflict with one another.

Juniper: Since you mentioned siblings, I suppose now would be a good time to tell you I’m pregnant.

SSC: Wait, WHAT?!

~~~

Jeanne: What do you think they’re freaking out about?

Jaune: Mom’s probably just let it slip she’s pregnant again.

Jeanne: Ahh… There’s one more after this one right?

Jaune: Yes, but this one should be the twins if I’m not mistaken.

Jeanne: Sheesh… Mom, and dad have a hell of a libido.

Jaune: Arc’s have a hell of a libido.

Jeanne: First hand experience?

Jaune: Yes.

Jeanne: Never experienced it myself; well, with a guy that is.

Jaune: Well; New life, and new possibilities await us.

Jeanne: True, so instead of, Terra taking your virginity, can I have it instead?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Imma gonna kill you now…

Jeanne: Relax, Jaune I was…?!

Jaune: DIE YOU DEGENERATE!!! DIE!!!

Jeanne: AHHHHH?!?!!

~~~

And, with that, Jaune was beating, Jeanne over the head with his, Pumpkin Pete’s plushie. And, as the the family watch on this cruel act of violence, Sapphire couldn’t help, but smugly smile at her sister.

Saphire: See, told you it was only a matter of time.

Saphron: Oh, shut up…

[dustyro0m]

Can I make a Jason x reader request

!!CANON DIVERGENT AND MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TITANS!!

Titans Jason Todd x jokers gn child reader. (Not explicitly stated though)

Angst at the start, and ambiguous ending. Can be seen as angst or fluff.

I have changed some things from the request to make it more suited to more audiences. I also didn't really understand the ask so I tried my best! I'm very sorry this took so long, school has been very hard these past few weeks...Thank you very much!

Warnings- mentions of murder, extreme sadness, guilt, anger, abuse, crying, and running away. (LMK if I’ve missed anything!!)

Please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors, this is proofread but if I have made any pronoun mistakes, or any other mistakes let me know and I will fix it! Just please be polite :D

...

Everything is supposed to be different now. Everything was perfect.

No more death, no more suffering, everything was...serene. There was a routine.

You were finally distanced from your father. No more was his name attached to yours. And Jason. With him it felt like the entire city was yours and his. No more pain, no more suffering no more guilt and regret.

But now it feels like how it was before you met Jason. Before everything changed.

You never really liked Hawk. You knew that he and Jason had quarreled in the past, and the way he looked at you when he found out that you and Jason were dating just sealed the deal. But he was a good person. He helped people. That made him good.

Never would you have expected Jason to have killed Hawk.

He remembers everything vividly. The look on his older 'brothers' face. How Dove cried. How everyone looked at him when he sobered up from the gas. He didn't have anyone to turn to but you.

You wiped the blood off of his face, and stayed with him through the long nights. You were mad at him but you sympathised. Cranes recipe was scary, no matter who was under it.

It feels like your whole world came crashing down around you. There wasn't supposed to be any more death. Not from you, and not from Jason.

He's not supposed to kill innocent people. Hank had a life, he helped people.

You werent neccesarily a good person. You fell in love with Jason Todd for example. And trying to take over Gotham would land you the moniker of being a not so good person. But you had one rule and that was to not kill good people. Your father had done that and you hate your father.

You had told Jason not to kill innocent people. He had this anger inside of him. The best way to describe it was a burning rage fuled by loneliness and regret. And he listened to you. He didn't kill anyone innocent. Which makes the recent news even more devastating.

You remember being around your father. Everytime you were around him you would get this feeling, like a deep rooted disgust that could never go away. It was a disgusting ugly feeling felt like liquid anger and revulsion mixing with shame and guilt pooling up to your chest and spilling out of you through your words and actions.

You thought you would never feel it with Jason. But as you look at his mask, discarded on the floor of your shared apartment you feel it again.

Disgust.

Revulsion.

Fear.

Shame.

Ashamed of your boyfriend. What a horrible feeling for a horrible situation. You loved Jason, and you told yourself (and him too) that your love for him was infinite. But why are you feeling shame now?

You pick up his mask silently. Equally as silently, you throw it to the ground.

Again, and again and again.

You hated scarecrow. You hated Hank, you hated Dawn. You hated Dick, Bruce, Gar, Rachel and Donna.

You hated Jason.

The mask lies in pieces at your feet as you feel regret wash over you.

Jason has extra masks, and he would easily forgive you just as you could easily lie about what happened to his mask. But all that anger that you felt subsides.

You pick up all the broken pieces and place them together in vain. Nothing would bring that mask back. Exhausted by your emotions, you throw the pieces away and slump into the couch.

Jason walks into the house as you're watching TV. He doesn't say anything to you and you don't say anything to him. He microwaves some crappy TV dinner and serves it to the both of you.

You study him as he eats. Sharp features that blend together softly. Piercing blue eyes that made your heart skip a beat. Big warm hands with prominent veins and prominent scars.

All features that made you feel giddy. You can feel the giddiness fade away as you look at him now.

After dinner, he goes to take a shower.

It feels like staying in this house with him is sufficating you. It feels like he himself is wrapping his hands around your neck, and squeezing and squeezing.

Is this the life you wanted? Is how you want to spend the rest of your time with Jason? Angry, confused, guilty, shameful?

You decide you’re going to leave. You’ll stay with Dick for a bit, maybe Donna, or even Bruce if worst comes to worst. But just away from here.

Jason passes out at 11.PM on days where he doesn’t patrol. He’s completely wiped out as you pack up your bags. Clothes, burner phones and cables are all tossed into your duffel.

You bought this house with him. It took a long time and you still remember moving in with him. How he held you up to the high ceilings to change the light bulbs, how you and him spend afternoons shopping for furniture. How it felt so surreal that you and him made a house a home.

And now you were leaving it all behind.

You send Dick a quick text asking him to pick you up soon. He responds quickly with no questions. You appreciate that. Just thirty minutes and then you’re going to be gone from here.

Regret swirls in your stomach as you watch Jason sleep. But you push it aside. You know what you want. You’re going to try your hardest to go through with this.

You close the door behind you as softly as you can. It clicks behind you and you let out a sigh. Your heart clenches as you walk to the door.

“Y/N? What are you-”

He wipes wipes the sleep from his eyes, confusedly. His eyes flicker down to your duffel bag and your hand on the door.

“Jason…I’m sorry, I can’t…I don’t…” years start to sting in your eyes and streak down your face. Warm and hot, his face mirrors yours. You drop the bag, and before you know it your face is in his chest. Your arms wrap around each other and you both cry and cry and cry. It’s warm in his arms, and you haven’t hugged him in so, so long. It feels amazing.

“Stay. Please” he whispers.

You look him in the eyes, and you know what you're going to do.

[deathswife]

i HATE the second time — right after marc's resurrected — khonshu offers him to become his moon knight and asks "do you want death or do you want life?" and marc's memory of layla in the boat appears right when he says life.

like... this makes me so emotional because we saw marc in the whole asylum episode putting himself down, saying that he should have died, that the cure became a curse, giving hints that he really regret not pulling the trigger that day. and to imagine that it stopped once he met layla, that he found a REASON to keep living because of her it's so devastating. his love for her is pure and full of gratitude. khonshu may have brought him to life but layla gave him a reason to live, a purpose — something marc shouldn't have had in a long time.

I understand why she felt heartbroken when he basically said "you don't know me at all", and the pain in her voice when she asks steven "you really don't remember our life together? our adventures?". I think she knew too much about marc's unconditional love for her.

and I'm crying so much about the fact that layla is the only fixed thing in this life and he thought he had to protect her and distance from her because of khonshu's threats. Imagine him before deciding to distance himself from her, imagine how hurt he must've felt... I think that's why he never signed it but sent the papers. He had to keep her distance but he didn't wanted to give up on them.

[thunderousone]

Chapter 6

Summary: Eirene's meets the Ancient Ones, also known as the Guardians and learns her fate.

TW: profanity, (eventual... it's slow burn get over it) graphic depictions of sex, pain kink, childhood trauma, parental trauma, chronic pain

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated 🤍

masterlist | read it first on ao3

She didn’t remember how she fell asleep with all of the thoughts running through her head, but sleep found her. When she awoke her joints ached, but her head felt a lot lighter. She walked over to the windows and pulled the curtains back. At least the constant cover of gray was consistent. At least it wasn't raining her, yet.  

The view from the windows is beautiful. A vast green moor sprawled out before her like an endless wave of emerald. A beautiful white rose garden blossomed wildly around the mansion, lining the cold stone exterior like perfect fluffy clouds. Beyond the moor, she could see beautiful pine trees as they stood sentinel off in the distance as far as the eye could see.  

A thunder so loud Eirene felt the floor beneath her shake and a bright flash of yellow light appeared off in the distance, piercing her to the core.  

From the smoke and scorched earth, Vír appeared beneath the flash. 

predator, but he was beautiful. Devastating, but beautiful. 

As he drew nearer, he stopped in his path and looked up at the manor, locking eyes with Eriene. An intense sense of vulnerability crashed into Eirene, leaving her feeling immediately exposed, her soul laid bare. He cocked his head to the side questioningly and she could almost see the look of disgust on his face, it was probably the same look that came across hers. How could someone so achingly beautiful do such terrible deeds? If he truly was the Thunderous One, he was responsible for her parents deaths. Almost killing Violet. It just didn't make sense.  

A chill ran down her spine when they finally broke eye contact. How long had they simply stared at each other in silence? A second? Minutes? Eirene pulled the curtains closed and began getting dressed. She quickly washed her face in the small bathroom attached to her room and headed out down the hall.  

The house was already buzzing with activity as staff began making beds and preparing meals.  

"Yvonne, good morning," Eirene said with a timid smile on her face.    

"Happy to see you looking well this morning, Eirene" She looked relieved. She and the rest of the staff were probably expecting her to fry herself in the tub last night.  

Eirene couldn't stop it, a true laugh came out of her. Yvonne giggled quietly. After a moment, both women were both laughing loudly at the absurdity of it all.  

"Sounds like I missed something?" Lyire approached down the hallway. "Good morning, Yvonne," he nodded in her direction.  

"Sir, good morning. Sorry, our guest and I just got carried away." She struggled to stifle a giggle.  

"Well I hate to spoil the fun, but the Gathering is arriving any minute now, so I'll need to steal Eirene. Deepest apologies madam," he tipped his head to Yvonne, his white hair and warm breeze flowing their way. "If you'll follow me, Eirene?" He nodded toward the grand staircase. 

"Many thanks for not destroying the house in your sleep," he smiled. "Let's hope you keep that self-control around the Gathering. Only a few of them are coming, they're going to assess the situation and vote on it as a group." Maybe he could sense her go tense because he continued, "You're going to be fine. They can't hurt you. You're in a sanctuary here, as long as you're in Vír's domain, you're fine."  

She had a only a few moments to eat some delicious breakfast before Lyire looked to the large doors. "They're here."  

Vír came down the stairs so quickly Eirene's heart almost stopped. He walked right up to her, his imposing figure staring down at her.  

"Don't speak. Keep your cool. Stand behind me, now." His voice growled at her and it sent a chill down her spine. He grabbed her shoulder and pushed him behind her. If she didn't know any better she'd say he was acting protective of her. Just being in his presence made her sick, but she would do as he said. For now. 

Lyire walked up to the door and opened it before they had a chance to knock. "Hello all, welcome to the Thunderous One's manor. Please, enter." Lyire seemed too formal, Eirene got nervous as to who she was meeting but she would try to do as Vír said. Keep calm. With each measured breath she steadied herself, her eyes tracing the markings etched into her palms before she hastily rolled down her sleeves and tucked her hands away. 

"Vír, wonderful to see you again. Thank you for welcoming us into your home. We appreciate you giving us the night to think on this... particular situation." Eirene peeked around Vír to examine the new guests.  

She wasn't sure what she expected but this certainly wasn't it. The five figures that walked through the foyer were beautiful. Exotic and ethereal, much like Lyire and Vír. Among them, a man in deep blue silken robes that seemed to shimmer with silver light stepped forward.  

"I've thought about it all night and I'd rather not stay here for long if I don't have to," his eyes seemed to look past them and to the gloomy outside through the windows. His voice was deep and soft, Eirene thought she could close her eyes and listen to them talk for hours.  

A young girl, no older than ten, broke away from the group. Eirene could see the cherry blossom branches tattooed on her arms, spiraling up her hands and could smell the foreign smell of warm grass as she approached Vír. "Can I see her?" She looked up at him and asked. He seemed to look down at her with irritation, but he stepped aside none the less.  

Eirene maintained her composure and continued to count her breaths as she looked down, attempting to avoid eye contact with the girl.  

"Aren't you beautiful," she said. Not a question, just a fact. Self-deprecation was a foreign concept to Eirene, but how could someone as striking as this young girl think about calling Eirene that? Was she out of her mind? "Tell me what happened?" She asked.  

Vír stepped back in front of Eirene shielding her. "I told you all last night, I-" A tall figure stepped from the group and cut him off.  

"I believe Amana meant we would like to hear it from the girl," the figure said.  

"Hino, why are you even here? You never once cared about what happens in my domain," Vír said. He put his arm out, further protecting her from their stare. Eirene glanced up quickly to see who was speaking.  

He was strong looking, broad shoulders and a sharp square jaw. His hair a vibrant red, shorter on one side and brushing across his brow like a lick of flame. His skin tanned and sun kissed, with warm golden brown eyes. He wore form fitting black leather from head to toe, with large straps crossing his broad chest in an X. His smile was big and arrogant, as if he knew he was getting under Vír's skin. Eirene couldn't help but smile at that. She felt the static in her palms go up her arms and around her neck to the place where they met at the base of her collar bones.  

"Mashe sent me in their place. You know she can't be here," he almost spoke down to Vír, and Eirene could swear she heard the rumbles of thunder outside, but no flashes of lightning illuminated the cool marble room. 

"Amana, give them some space. We don't know yet what they're capable of," another woman said. The small girl backed up, leaning into the embrace of a tall woman, her belly swollen and pregnant, with ferns tattooed up her arms who gave Eirene a warm, assured smile.  

Vír lowered his hand and spoke down to her over his shoulder. "You heard them, speak." He hissed.  

Eirene pulled her hands out of her pockets and balled her hands up into fists, massaging the feeling of static in them with her fingers as she continued to count breaths. She could feel the ache in her triceps' and bicep muscles as she struggled to keep down her anxiety and fear. 

"I- I don't understand what happened," Eirene stepped forward slowly, out from behind Vír. She could feel his eyes on her, every movement and breath being examined. "I was going to hunt on Lyranth quickly before the storms began again, when I got to the edge of the bridge, my... my-" the word sister caught in her throat. She felt a warm breeze at her back, cooling her down and blowing on the back of her neck. She looked past Hino's devouring stare and caught Lyire's blue eyes from across the room. He mimicked a deep breath and smiled kindly at her.  

"My sister was behind me, and the storm began. I ran to her and we reached the edge of the bridge. When we hit solid ground, I don't know what happened it was like everything was slowed. I knew lightning was going to strike on the spot where she was standing, I just- something in my gut told me to push her," the look on Violets face in her mind as she did so made her heart feel like it was going to rip from her chest. "I stood where the lightning was going to strike instead. I still think I might be dead," and Eirene let a soft chuckle out.  

The man in the blue robes was holding hands with a woman in a matching set of robes and she let go of his hand and stepped forward, approaching Eirene. The other man's eyes did not leave Vír's for even a moment. "May I?" She looked at Eirene, her hands outstretched. Eirene glanced up at Vír for permission, and he simply rolled his eyes quickly and gave a curt nod. Eirene put her hands in the womans, palms down.  

"Be careful, Kumi," the robed man said.  

"I know what I'm doing, Caelum," she looked back at him. The look on Caelum's face was pure worry but Kumi could not look more curious or calm. She rolled Eirene's hands around so they were palm up and she touched the lightning bolts gently with her thumbs. "Interesting," she said to herself. "And you were born with these?" She asked Eirene, now pulling her eyes from the marks on her hands to her eyes. Eirene had never seen the stars. But if she had to imagine them, she would think they looked like Kumi's eyes. Beautiful deep blue irises with sparkling silver light that seemed to move the longer you stared.  

"No," Eirene said quietly to her. "When I awoke here I saw them. I can feel them," her voice almost a whisper to Kumi alone. She smiled and dropped her hands and backed up from Eirene and Vír. She returned next to Caelum, and grasped his hand again, whispering something in his ear.  

"Well, should we vote? I've got about a million other things that I'd rather be doing than standing in this cold, depressing home," Hino had made himself comfortable, sitting on the chaise that Eirene found herself on twice last night. His feet kicked up, boots and all, on the soft gray material. When he turned his head to look at them his eyes met Eirene's for a moment and her marks burned. She could feel them the entire way up her arms and around her neck. It made her hair stand up on her arms. She didn't feel as exposed as she did when Vír looked at her, but there was something about him that put Eriene on edge. Hino looked at her as if he could envelope her, swallow her whole.  

Caelum looked at Hino with a hint of annoyance. "He's right," he said. He dropped Kumi's hand and looked at the pregnant woman. "Zelenaya, what say you?"  

"She's dangerous, but she doesn't know it. That makes her doubly a threat. She stays in this domain, not to return to the mortal world until her powers are under control, or returned to their rightful owner," her deep green eyes made contact with Vír.  

"I agree," Amana spoke. The small girl still leaning into the woman clad in verdant green.  

"Caelum and I agree. Vír must take her in, train her, as he did Lyire. If she causes any harm to anyone, Vír is responsible." Kumi stared at him directly in the eye, and Caelum squeezed her hand firmly. "Hino?" She turned and looked at the man, pompously lounging in the corner.  

"Mashe's vote is that the girl be sent to her domain where she and others try to figure out how to expel the magic from her and remove her memory of this place. Then she be returned to the mortal world as soon as possible," his eyes remained on her, and Eirene thought it might engulf her whole. "However, I think it might be interesting to see where this goes. However, I think it best she have a proper teacher. I vote she return to my domain to train," His eyes sparked with something mischievous.  

Caelum nodded. "You are outvoted, Hino. It is decided. We will return six moons from now. If no progress has been made, we will revote and perhaps consider your offer, Hino." He bowed low and turned to leave with Kumi. On their way out, Lyire stopped them and whispered something in their ear. Kumi took him by the shoulder and gave him a soft squeeze and Lyire beamed. The green woman, Zelenaya, rested a hand on her belly and nodded her head. She reached a hand down for Amana who grasped it tightly.  

"Good luck," she said with a kind smile that reminded Eirene of Beck, and they turned to leave. 

Hino slowly rose from the lounge and walked toward them. Vír stepped between Eirene and the walking flame. "Don't make me have Lyire snuff you out," Vír threatened. "I don't know what you're doing, but walk away. While you still can." The thunder began outside again and Eirene swallowed the sick that was creeping from her stomach to her throat at the sound. 

"I just wanted to welcome the newest member of the Guardians, properly," he teased. He stepped to the side and grabbed Eirene's hand in his own. His hand was hot- too hot, and he took her hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss into it. When he removed his lips from her hand he took a warm finger and traced the line of the lightning bolt on it, leaving a trail of heat and sparks behind. Eirene felt like she could be electrocuted. Or smothered. He smelled of burning palo santo and cedarwood, like the hearth fire at her home. She pulled her hand away from his, the electricity still creeping around her shoulders like static electricity. His eyes flicked up to meet hers as if he felt it too. He gave the smallest smile and cocked his head ever so slightly to the side as he narrowed his eyes.  

"Welcome to the Gathering, Lightning Caller."  

[perverse-idyll]

PI!!!!!! Congrats on your milestone!!!!! So awesome and so well deserved!!

As for emojis how about: 🥺 & 🛒

Thank you so much, Danni! 😘It's a testament to how long I've been in fandom! Never assume the impossible.

Fanfic Writers Emoji Ask

(Buckle up. This goes on for paragraphs - and that's before we even reach the second question!)

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Any time Snape cracks in front of Harry or ends up vulnerable against his will (and it's always against his will). I think he's so used to associating his deepest feelings with self-loathing, so accustomed to repressing those feelings just to be able to function and then feeling bitter and angry about all the self-inflicted poison in his veins that his go-to reaction to something as powerful as love is to fight it. If Lily suddenly re-appeared in his life, he might grovel and weep before her on his knees (which is more about guilt and grief than love). But with Harry - oh, it's obviously Harry's fault. Snape would blame Harry for his own weakness and insanity. Because, IMO, Snape feels things intensely and incoherently (when did he ever have a chance to learn what's healthy or unhealthy or how he's meant to deal with it?), so when Harry hits a nerve - when Snape can't control himself around Harry and gets desperate to prevent him from knowing - when Snape himself doesn't want to know but his usual habit of repression isn't working, why is it not fucking working - he'd be absolutely devastated by the internal storm of being possessed by love and denying he wants it, dying to consume, dying to hate Harry or go back to hating him or to apply his years-long practice of hatred as a mask for love. Because that self-destructive struggle comes naturally to him. Love has always been stained by hatred. He's lived with this insoluble, painful clash of antithetical feelings since childhood. But it's at these moments that he slips up and Harry sees the truth.

I also love any instance where Harry is stricken by how much he loves Snape, how painfully he feels for this arsehole, like a knife in the heart, even when Snape is behaving horribly or hurting himself. Harry is so often portrayed as emotionally passive in relationships, or easygoing, or as a boy who just wants a family, that it gives me great pleasure to see him shaken by the strength of his feelings for this inappropriate object of desire. It's implicit in most Snarry fics that Harry's the one worthy of being loved, so I like to see the tables turned and Harry just as lovestruck and suffering from desire.

And just any time they yearn for each other, any time there's an attempt at renunciation that leaves an inconsolable, keening void, any principled distance that comes between them - this lights up my whole nervous system. (Mia_ugly is a marvelous example of writer whose fics are suffused with yearning.)

Eh, I kind of free-associated here, so it got long again. Oops. Moving on.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Well, I've joked before that in most of my fics Snape ends up on his knees. How's that for an image? 😉

I'll try to keep myself from writing a whole treatise this time, but I noticed recently that one of the recurring motifs in my stories is death. Not character death, exactly, although sometimes characters die. More as a recurring, dare I say obsessive, concept. This hasn't been intentional, but here's the evidence:

When the Rose and the Fire Are One - Harry's haunted - inhabited, really - by what he calls "ghosts" - the deaths of people Voldemort killed. The guilt over them. The transfer of sins from the Dark Lord to Harry's soul. And Snape's situation is relentlessly pushing him toward believing the only kind of freedom available to him is in death. At one point, he begs Harry to kill him. And of course, in this story, Ron dies.

The White Road - I mean, the afterlife? Lily, from beyond death, watches Snape die. Eventually the question of whether or not Snape deserves to live is in her hands. The mercy of the dead directly affects the fate of the living.

The Lost World - *cough* The ending. Enough said.

In Infinite Remorse of Soul - We end up in the afterlife here, too, where Snape's rebellion against his own sacrifice is a consequence of being taken for granted and lied to - again - and feeling that his own death doesn't even merit a "thank you." Which leads to the death-haunted sequel And Mine the Gall.

No Room for the Weak circles around Snape's death or not-death and his mum's verdict on her son's life.

The Blood of Stars - Snape is sent back to life for a purpose, but allows the world to continue believing he's dead. In the later parts of the fic (unposted as yet), we're - you guessed it! - back in the afterlife, and there is much fussing about how death can resolve things that happened in life.

Impossible Without It - Snape is supposed to be dead. Voldemort is definitely dead. Harry can't remember killing him. If Snape were alive, Harry just might be angry enough to do to him what he presumably did to the Dark Lord. But what is he supposed to with a Snape who doesn't remember killing anyone? Who doesn't even know that magic exists? (This fic is a little less metaphysical about death and more concerned with memory, guilt, and sacrifice.)

Year of the Thestral is mostly about the aftermath of Snape's death and what the revelations mean to Minerva.

The Afterlight has a thematic thread running through it concerning what it takes to live after having died, having returned from death and remembering being dead, a situation both Snape and Harry struggle with. Also, it's an open question whether one or both of them are plagued by a death wish, since they constantly put their lives at risk. Plus there's a serial killer in this one, oh goody.

The Threefold Death - um, I rest my case. Although, fear not, Harry and Snape make it all the way to the end.

I have yet another untitled WIP in which Snape dies his canon death and Harry brings him back.

Phew. Okay, forget my vague protestations, this still went on too long. But holy moly. If I ever manage to type the final period to my current WIPs, I need to seriously consider changing up my sources of inspiration! 😳

[cats-inthe-cradle]

Continuation of this post because, yeah it just got too long I couldn't handle it anymore

@sea-jello

Hmmm thinking about how long it would take them to travel all across ninjago (I think it's safe to assume to weapons are spread out as far away from each other as possible but idk) and I'm not sure it would take months (although, that does depend on about how many months you mean exactly), but also they *are* traveling by foot (and pulling Wu's cart 💀) most of the time so maybe, idk I'm probably not the best judge of distance and traveling time so. Plus it would be very easy to come up with reasons for them to be delayed either way, so whatever you think would be best. But probably at least a month. (And yeah a longer time would definitely explain Kai's desperation). Also yess the more Morro gets his hopes up the better >:3

NOT FOR SAVING HIM NO shdhd I meant like he gets mad at Kai for implying/revealing Lloyd as the green ninja (if Kai's still the first one to come to the realization in this) cuz at this point Morro's still hoping to prove himself worthy to be the green ninja, so maybe in his devastation and desperation he lashes out kind of a thing?

Hmm yeah, maybe today I'll go glance over the episodes and see if there's a good spot that stands out. And yeah 😔 BUT imagine the angst of the other ninja running into younger Morro after everything that's happened

OH YOUR RIGHT hmm idk what reason wu would have for not telling them sooner? Or doing something about Kai and Nya being left to take care of themselves? Idk it'd depend on how much he knows about the kids' situation but either way whatever his reasoning he probably thought is was for the best 🥲 but STILL THE ANGST AUGHHH

YESS EXACTLY

AUGHHH Zane's death being more incentive for him to stay away my heart 😭 (I love it)

YESSSSSS ALL OF THIS YES

I feel like Morro would be angered by how like, settled Lloyd had become in the position of green ninja at that point. And like it's just building until the fight happens.

EXACTLY SGDHD Morro barely restrains himself from flying right back up there to beat him up properly

SGDHFJFJ YEAH OKAY FAIR ILL WRITE IF YOU DRAW DEAL? WE CAN FUEL EACH OTHER

YEAH YEAH YEAH

Yeah that's fair. Morro bud you're self-destructive tendencies are showing 😭

Hmmm I almost feel like we'd need him to show up as a villain at some point if only so he can get a spot in the hall of villains and feasibly come back during dotd (that is if he dies at the end of s5). And also for fun angst and drama. But also I feel like he'd be less likely to become a villain in this? (unless it was just to be a menace to the ninja) cuz like in this he actually got the chance to learn what it meant to be a hero? So he wouldn't be as likely to put innocents in harms way? Hmmm

Oooo what if he's only pretending to be a villain? Like maybe he's set out to take down as many bad guys as possible (because he still wants to help people but also maybe he's still trying to prove himself worthy of the green gi as well) but he goes about that by pretending to be one so he can get in close with higher end dudes and take them out. But literally NOBODY knows this (the ninja may have their doubts) so everyone thinks hes a legit villain and even when he takes out a group or something everyone just assumes it's for villainous reasons and not that he's targeting them. Also he 'hates' the ninja and has no qualms about attacking them most of the time so he really sells it.

YEP YEP YEPP

Oop I hit the image limit but YAYY WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE WITH THE TIMELINE

Also I think so? Which green ninja reveal are you referring to specifically the Morro one or the Lloyd one?