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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 days

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I Want Better For You (part 3.5)

part 1 | Masterpost | Part 3

Tim sat on the edge of his bed in Titan’s Tower, his mind going like a hamster on a wheel, a mile a minute and getting nowhere. In his hands he held the note left for him by Red Hood! It was a serious security breach that he had gotten in here at all. Obviously Tim knew he was smart, he had been Robin before Tim after all, you couldn’t do that job without being smart as hell and strong as heck. But he had upgraded the security himself when he joined the team, no one should have been able to get into the tower, let alone into his room to leave the note.

At least it wasn’t a bad note? In fact it was… nice, it was a kind offer. They had to know that if he did this he would spy, he wouldn’t even be able to help it because he’d always had a detective's mind, yet still they offered.

Of course there was always a possibility that it was a trap of some type but Tim really didn’t think it was. Jason had proved he could get into the Tower, if he wanted Tim dead or kidnapped he could have just done it.

He should talk to his team about this, he should talk to Bruce about this, but for the moment he just held the note. Robin had always been his hero, sure it was Dick he’d first recognized because of the Flying Grayson connection, but Jason had been His Robin. Tim had idolized Jason, and been completely devastated when he died. Ya he had become Robin to help Bruce, but it was to memorialize Jason as well.

He knew that Jason wasn’t the same as he’d been before his death, but… while he was dead Tim had gotten used to thinking of him like a brother. A part of him desperately wanted to take this note at face value, to forget all about the violence, and the crimes, and just take the olive branch and bond with his childhood hero. But he was going to be smart about this.

He was going to go, of course he was, but he needed to put safety measures in place and some sort of plan. Though he probably still wasn’t going to tell B about it, he was overprotective and would grill Tim for any bit of information he managed to gleen, and if he wanted any real info he would have to do a long con. Best he could do right now would be to have Superboy listen in, set up a code word, and have Impulse ready for an extraction if needed then… well he’d tell Batman when he needed to.

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It took about a week to talk Superboy into letting him go but it wasn’t exactly hard to set up as minimal of plans as he had, including wearing a hidden wire to record whatever happened. As long as it worked, Tim had heard tech had a habit of messing up around Hyena if he didn’t want them working.

He didn’t bother thinking of an excuse, he didn’t think he needed one. Wanting to get to know them would be enough, especially if he was going to rely on them for anything in the future.

So, feeling tense and keeping to the shadows he entered Crime Alley on a slow night with his friends behind him, figuratively speaking. He moved a bit deeper in, grappling up to the roof of a building, feeling a little lost and listless. He did know vaguely where to find these two, but Crime Alley wasn’t a small place, and now that he was in their territory he didn’t know where to go, it’s not like they knew where Hood and Hyena lived, or their base of operations.

It seemed like he didn’t need to though, because while he was standing on the roof thinking he saw someone coming, leaping from one building to the other with reckless abandon. They weren’t even using a grapple as they free ran and made jumps Tim was pretty sure should have been impossible. Tim knew who it was before they were close enough to see detail because Hood still used a grapple, the only one who acted like that was Hyena.

Sure enough Hood’s lover skidded to a halt across the roof in front of Tim, grinning to the point he could see it a little past the muzzle he wore. He didn’t have any weapons out, not that that meant anything, half the time Hyena forgot to use the clawed brass knuckles he carried and fought with bare hands. Tim was tense, ready to fight or flee but Hyena was not, he seemed relaxed and didn’t approach, keeping his hands visible.

“Hey there little birdy, what can I do for ya?” Hyena asked, he didn’t have a Gotham accent but it was a little hard to tell where exactly it was from.

“I got Red Hood’s note. I just wanted to talk, introduce myself properly and meet you before I decide to take you up on any of the offers.” Tim said honestly.

“Of course!” Hyena agreed, pulling his phone out of a hidden pocket on the inside of his cropped jacket. “I’ll text Hood, ask him to pick up some food for us and we can have a little rooftop picnic and chat for a bit. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Tim said, not sure why he was surprised by the offer.

“Any requests? The lifestyle sure builds up an appetite huh? And I certainly hope you’re still growing,” Hyena teased, cackling at Tim’s expression of indignation. Hyena wasn’t that much taller than him!

“Coffee,” He requested, finally relaxing a little.

“Hmm,” Hyena sounded judgmental as he tapped at his phone. “Fine, it’s your bone density that’s at stake not mine.” He pressed send, waited a moment and his phone dinged with a reply. “Great, he’ll be on his way soon, with picking up food he’ll probably be about a half hour,” Hyena said, pocketing his phone again and flopping down, as if the rooftop was a soft bed. “I know it’s probably Hood you really came to see but is there anything I can tell you in the meantime? Let’s stick to small talk though huh? I know how you bats and birds are, but I also know you’re wearing a wire, and I’m not interested in spilling my guts.”

“Alright, ya that’s fair. Hood mentioned in the note that you know a lot about astronomy?” Tim mentioned, finally sitting down with his legs crossed as well.

“Oh ya, I was totally obsessed with it for most of my life, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid and learned everything I could about space and engineering,” Hyena confirmed casually.

“This is a long way from being an astronaut,” Tim pointed out.

“Ya, well, things don’t always go the way you plan you know? Sometimes you get kidnapped by mad scientists and experimented on to the point you go a little around the bend,” Hyena snickered. Tim wasn’t sure if he was being serious, or self referential, or not.

“Riiight, well, what are your favourite space facts then?” Tim asked, just to pass the time really. Hyena brightened immediately and was happy to start sharing a bunch of random facts.

It ended up in a back and forth of fun facts, aerospace vs chemistry and both of them could go shot for shot when it came to engineering. Tim realized, a bit belatedly, that Hyena is way smarter than Tim had given him credit for. That was disconcerting but… if they ended up getting alone Tim thought he could have a lot of fun tinkering with him.

“Incoming,” Hood broke into their conversation, warning them before he landed on the roof so he wouldn’t startle them. “Hey there Timmy,” He said as he walked over to crouch next to Danny, handing him a few bags of batburger and a tray of drinks before taking off his helmet. He was wearing a domino underneath it but it wasn’t like Tim didn’t already know his identity. “Got your coffee, I bet if you took off that domino your eye bags would be nearly as dark as the mask. Never enough time to sleep between school, social life, and nightlife.” Jason said, taking the tray of drinks back from Hyena, who promptly started digging through the bag with his now free hands, and handed the coffee cup to Tim.

“If you drop out of school to play hero I will personally kick your ass,” Jason said pointing at Tim warningly.

“Uhhh,” Tim sounded, shifting a little awkwardly because he couldn’t deny he had already thought about dropping out. He looked down and took a sip of the coffee, which wasn’t great, but hey. “Why do you care?”

“Neither Hyena or I got to finish school because we died before graduation,” Hood said simply, which was a punch in the gut, and new information about Hyena. “I want better for you.”

Tim didn’t know how to respond to that.

Hyena finished rummaging through the bag with a little yip of delight and started distributing the food, handing Hood a bag and taking a box of chicken wings, a burger, and some fries for himself before handing off the rest to Tim. “Looks like Hood didn’t know what you wanted and bought half the store, whatever you don’t eat I’ll finish,” Hyena joked as Tim took the bag. “Shit I forgot my sauces,” Hyena grumbled, staring at his nuggets with a little pinch between his brows.

“What sauce are you looking for?” Tim asked, looking through the bag.

“Sweet and sour,” Hyena said brightly and Tim found the sauce and tossed it to Hyena, who hummed happily and took off his mask to eat. He was completely barefaced now and Tim couldn’t help but stare a little just because of how casual he was being about this. “What?” Hyena asked, catching Tim staring.

“Hey I know he’s cute but he’s taken,” Hood joked, slinging an arm around Hyena’s shoulders who cackled and leaned back against Jason.

“No!” Tim said, cursing his fair skin for showing his blush, not because Hood was right of course, he was just embarrassed! “I mean, that’s not what I was thinking, I’m just surprised you took off your mask,” He told Hyena.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before I’m sure. I’m sure you and the bats have already figured out my ‘civilian identity’ or whatever. It’s not like I have anything to protect really, I only have the mask and the outfit because I like the aesthetic.” Hyena said, gesturing down at himself.

“Fair enough I guess…” Tim said before looking back at Hood. “How did you get into Titan’s Tower?”

“Trade secrets Timmy, I’d rather talk about you. How’s school? You got a girlfriend or boyfriend?” Jason asked with a shit eating grin as Tim sputtered indignantly and then took a big bite of his burger to avoid having to answer such an invasive question! Especially with Superboy definitely listening in.

#tim drake #kon el kent #superboy #Red Hood #Jason Todd #danny phantom #dc x dp #fanfiction #dead on main #Hyena!Danny #they're brothers your honor

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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 days

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Ketheric continues to be the member of the Chosen I struggle to get a grip on. Like the other three I can tell you the details of why (I think) they grew up to monsters:

Long post.

Let's start with Gortash: spent his childhood being told he was a selfish monster for his thoughts - apparently from birth - for the way he perceived the world, for *checks notes* wanting his parents attention as an undeveloped human being that relies on its parents to survive and thrive.

Then his parents send him to hell as part of a deal. Because that's where monsters go isn't it? They go to hell to suffer eternal damnation because they were monsters in life.

So you grow up in one of the literal cesspits of the universe, where the only people you meet are the literal scum of the universe, or those you're going to learn to see as weak fools who had to rely on others - and were ultimately willing to commit atrocities themselves - who were taken advantage of by the scum of the universe. You get to the Hells by committing atrocities, either because you want something so badly you'll fuck somebody over for it (out of greed, or because you couldn't fix it yourself (weak)) or because you did them of your own volition. And curiously, some of these people had their price tags wrapped in such subtle terms they don't even realise they did anything wrong! Lesson learned; anyone will willingly be a monster if you make the evil sound nice. Every single devil you meet has had the humanity flayed from their soul, and they got to where they are in their existences by fomenting (and committing) hate and rape and murder and everything evil under the sun as a regular Monday morning in the ultimate goal to make the universe an evil place. Devils are also 'self made men', everybody started from nothing as a lemure and clawed their way to where they are now. Every social interaction in the Hells is manipulation and abuse. Everyone there hurts everyone.

But you do have one example of a good person! There's Hope! Lovely lady, kind and sweet... Trapped in hell being abused forever going insane because of it because your ambitious sister fucked you over. That's where trust and love being a good person gets you.

And that was his entire social life. That was the people he had to look to for examples. All his early experiences were limited to a sample of the absolute worst it has to offer, and he has a very skewed view of the universe.

And the fact that he's apparently so damn good at sex a lady gave him a ring worth everything she owns after growing up around a pleasure devil whose role is harming and corrupting people with sex and has built in charm person at etc is not ringing alarm bells(!) I'm not side-eyeing the boudoir at all.

I wonder why having a child/teen spend their formative years in the evil factory literally designed to spit out monsters... spat out a monster? Kudos to Karlach, though: just how many layers of defence mechanisms has she got in her brain?

Gortash's thought processes are 50% through the lens of engineering and 50% through the lens of a devil's perspective to me. People will sell out others for their own gain, because they're too weak to do it themselves or because they're bastards. If you don't get with the programme you're the victim. You only get ahead by being ruthless. Everybody is untrustworthy, and relying on them will get you betrayed. The world is divided into the weak and the ruthlessly strong who take what they want. Yes, he's a monster. And so are his parents. And so is everyone. And then Bane saw this perfect example of his way of thinking and said 'that one.'

Orin: obviously we've got grooming. The fact that her formative memories include her mother trying to murder her, and the fact that she feels like the only person who has ever cared about her or supported her is her grandfather. Who is implied to have been raping her, or intending to. All she's permitted is to have her brain poisoned by her faith, which her life revolves around, and then her kin 'does it all wrong' and inherits everything she's been groomed to believe is hers. But no, 'they're not wrong,' says everybody around her 'you are!'

She's a Bhaalspawn, so her relationships with her kin are "kill or be killed," as Helena proved. You will please father by slaughtering your siblings, or you will die - or worse. You must be and stay favoured by Bhaal above all the others to be truly safe ("safe"), and Durge outranking her is a threat to her existence. Actually Durge existing is a threat to her well-being. She has no way to live a life outside the cult, never has and never will. Her life is insanely lonely and mostly consists of paranoia.

But the overlaying theme here is that she's a changeling. She's mirrorkin with no unique physical identity of her own, she can only reflect those of others. To be dnd canon accurate: she has no real facial features, no pigmentation. She's not permitted an identity of her own, and was punished for trying. She's a mirror born and raised to reflect the glory of Bhaal, the glory of her failed grandfather, the rise of Bhaal's favourite child. Never her own. Gee, I wonder why she literally wears people's skins.

Denied the ability to do anything but live according to what she's told, she does her best to live up to it because to fail is to become her parents and the countless aunts and uncles currently enjoying their damnation in the Throne of Blood. And then she's told she's doing it wrong. By everybody. She's a 'rabid dog'. She, despite having doctrine poured into her ears and probably carved into her flesh her entire life 'doesn't understand Bhaal.' And everybody is insanely patronising about it! You're never allowed to be anything but what we tell you to be, but you're still not good enough! Which is death. The Temple of Bhaal needs murder feminism.

The Dark Urge is my favourite little nightmare, and I've talked about them at length: much of Orin's trauma also applies to them, although where she's a mirror made to reflect the egos of others, Durge is only allowed one identity: Bhaal's. Where Orin can never seem to reach the standards forced on her, Durge is never allowed to fail to meet them, or else. Every outside connection they ever had was brutally sabotaged, and they've had 'you're a monster and only I (your abusive Father) can love you' drilled into their mind. They hate themself. We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions. The prayer for forgiveness kind of sums it all up: 'I'm sorry for forming an emotional connection that isn't blind love for you father, but don't fret, I'll destroy it with my own hands just like everything else and then finally get to kill myself just like I've always wanted.'

But Ketheric? Like villains don't need tragic backstories to be terrible people, but it does make them more interesting.

OK, so your bio family is fucked up and I definitely get the impression that they sucked (Malus is giving me vibes that say he'd have been a villain anyway, and might've been secretly Sharran to start with; Gerringothe seems to be drowning whatever her issues are in gold), and then the loving family you made for yourself broke: your wife died, and your daughter died, sure. But plenty of people on Toril probably have similar if not the same stories and didn't go evil overlord! Why are you doing this? What is informing these decisions? Why does your existence hinge so much on your dead daughter that your son is basically named after her and you seem to hate him for existing and not being her? Does Shar have something to do with it? Has Ketheric just carved out so much memory and emotion, so much of his own identity, that all that's left is the grief and the hunger for the pain to stop but, as per Shar's intent, it keeps coming back, with less and less positive memories to soften the pain. A wound that festers and never heals. Is the obsession with Isobel because she's the icon of everything that was good in his life, and her loss was the moment everything good was gone? Was he a rational man who turned to Shar to stop the pain in a moment of understandable grief and rage at her sister, and then was trapped in a cycle that destroyed everything that was good in that man until we get the General?

Just guess working my way through his entire backstory...

#I just want to rescue Orin; she breaks my heart #and I kind of hate that she didn't win on some levels #I just want to rescue her ToB style but without the bad ending that got added in post-game #babbling #edgelord hours #villainous nonsense #the family circle #/durge #/orin #/gortash #/ketheric

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wonbadtz · 15 hours

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ riize as romance tropes

ot7 x female!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, a hint of angst

warnings: none!

a/n: be delusional with me here, enjoy<3

i can't think of a more fitting trope for him. he's a very bright person, full of love and joy, always smiling and trying to make other people feel calm. he brings all the fun, he never holds grudges and is just overall a very chill and adorable guy. so his personality is completely contrasted with yours, and he feels inexplicablely drawn to you right from the moment he sees you. you're more reserved, shy, tired with life. your focus on negativity, stress and grumbling activates his happy virus, as he tries his best to change your mood for the better. you are indifferent at first, trying to avoid him in any way you can, even though deep down you enjoy his company and you find yourself waiting impatiently to meet him. that's why you fail to notice the loud thumping of his heart once he finally manages to put a smile on your face.

shotaro ♡ grumpy x sunshine

eunseok ♡ best friend's brother

picture this... you have known your best friend ever since you came out of the womb. you used to be together all day long, playing, chatting, making memories. and all this time it was you, your best friend, and from time to time, your best friend's charming, charismatic and sickeningly handsome brother. eunseok has known you since forever, he's practically seen you growing up and he basically feels like you are his little sister. he can't see you in any other way than that, or at least he refuses to. because he can't explain why he suddenly found you attractive after that one summer, after not seeing you in a long time. he couldn't make sense of it, for some reason he started acting weird and awkward around you and you were confused at his behavior. little did you know that this was his poor attempt in trying to get your attention and finally get you to notice him the same way he noticed you. but in your defense, you've had a teeny tiny crush on him since the very first moment you met him.

sungchan ♡ best friends to lovers

PLEASEEE he's so cute, he could even be a childhood friend who turns into your lover. he's your person, the one who makes you feel comfortable, safe, heard. he is the only person who knows your true personality, you feel so at home with him and allow yourself to express every little thing in your personality. he makes you laugh, a lot, and he has the brightest smile on his face when he's looking at you, especially when you're not looking back at him. the tiny spark that shone the moment he reached to grab your hand when you stumbled on the street was enough for you to question your feelings towards him. maybe the love and appreciation you feel for him is more than what friends have for each other.

wonbin ♡ fake dating

i need you to see the vision here... the first time you saw wonbin was at one of his band's gigs. rockstar wonbin immediately caught your attention; he's cool, focused, passionate in what he does, he becomes one with his guitar and plays it like it's a natural process to him, which makes him a hundred times more attractive. you admit that you were taken aback when he suddenly approached you after the show ended, telling you that he spotted you in the crowd and offered you to be his fake girlfriend, after his band mates teased him for being single. he took it as a bet, and wanted to tell his band mates off so bad, that he came to the first girl that caught his attention. hanging out with him and his band became a regular activity in your routine, and the more time you spent with him, the more you felt your heart clench and flutter at the sound of his voice and the touching of your hands.

seunghan ♡ friends with benefits

okay so listen... he is the one who approached you first. he's bold, confident, and has a way with his words. there's no doubt in that. that's why he has you wrapped around his finger, making you eager for him, wanting him with every aching second that passes. and the best part is that he is even more obsessed with you than you are with him. you find yourselves sneaking around, glancing at each other and hinting at your secret meetings when your friends aren't looking. he texts you in the middle of the night, begging you to come over and of course you go there because you know you're gonna have a heavenly time. you think you're just his sneaky link, a person he wants only for pleasure, and you think the same of him too. but the thumping of the fast beating of his heart when you lay your head on his chest during pillowtalk tells you that he wants you in a deeper and more emotional level that what you had imagined.

sohee ♡ first love

bawling my eyes out at the thought. instant love at first sight, the guy who just makes you feel loved. you two are the definition of lovebirds, the cutest couple ever. even though it's naive young love, he makes you feel like the happiest person in the whole world. he just loves you too much, and you love him twice as much. he's your comfort person, your other half, the person that brings meaning to your life. you guys are adorable, he makes your stomach twist and turn in excitement and love, you gain energy from his smile and your heart warms at the slightest touch of your fingers. even after years of being broken up and after meeting other partners in the course of your life, you will always keep him in the back of your mind and heart when you need to remember how love is supposed to feel.

anton ♡ academic rivals to lovers

anton screams college boyfriend, and with that comes the rivalry. he's the top student, all teachers know him by name and he makes sure to show it off. he started feeling slightly threatened when you stepped into the game, aiming to show off your skills too because who does he think he is? but things between the two of you will change when you have to be paired together for a group project. you would have to put up with the guy that challenges your knowledge and abilities every single day if you wanted to maintain your good grades. but you were actually very pleasantly surprised when you found out how calm and fun he is once you get to know him. and he probably thought the same of you, when he asked you to hang out with him even after the project ended.

TAGS: @seunghancore @djxia0 @ywnzn @saranghoeforanton

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ikilledmyhamster · 2 days

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Okay listen, what I love about BTD kid au is that Strade, rire, & sano were friends ever since childhood. I mean it's adorable if you actually think about it 😂

I do have a headcannon story that I would like to tell you all so feel free to read this!

I still don't know how the three met, it's kind of like that one trio where they don't even know how they met each other in the first place so let's just go with that. But I'd figured it would go something like this.

Story: Strade was an only child and had no friends due to his behavior. He met sano when he was around probably 6-7 who was stuck in a pond with ropes around his tail (Sano). Strade upon seeing a young boy with a snake tail, was curious and decided to help him...but the two ended up in the rope and it took 2 hours for them to get themselves free. Strade and sano became friends after that and strade didn't even bother asking about why sano had a tail.

The next part is where the two met rire which is kind of in a weird way. Strade got home from his kindergarten and decided to play with sano as the two were close, sano has an idea to summon a demon, which wasn't normal for a child to say that but hey, he's a naga demon so what do you expect? Anyway, they summoned a demon and you might be asking how and why they did it. Well one; They were pretty dumb kids and also just curious, two; Sano found rire's 'symbol' online for odd reasons and decided to try it. They successfully summoned kid rire but...they interrupted his tea time which made the demon prince angry (Btw he's a prince because his family is still alive, so he ain't the demon king yet). After a full on rampage that goes on for about a few hours, they were able to come into an agreement to become friends.

Childhood Moments: Strade, Rire, & Sano would build their own treehouse in their old neighborhood where they used to live, and they would make the treehouse pretty big. Of course the three had their own rooms and storage for their own stuff, by this time strade had an old camcorder, so he used it to create videos and/or memories of their childhood.

The three would go on adventures and weird places or even terrifying ones. Strades parents never really paid any attention to him so they didn't care if he left the house. Strade likes to draw or doodle in his free time, so he draws a lot of art of him, rire and sano. Sano and strade likes to pull pranks on rire. For example one time, they did a water bucket challenge but instead of it being normal cold water, it was holy water which burned poor kid rire skin. Of course he was not happy, but don't worry...he got his revenge.

Another childhood memory is that the three would occasionally watch horror films like slasher films. Especially paranormal activity, every time there is a demon or spirit that is possessing a person, sano and strade were pretty much scared while rire happily watches the scene. BUTTTT, when it comes to the exorcist scenes...Rire would immediately hold his friends with his tentacles while hiding behind them😂😂 (inspo from the photo above)

Another time, sano and strade did a research and they read that in old Russian ancient times, there used to be a saying that brownies could scare off evil spirits or demons. And so...they tried it on rire, the results did not disappoint them. The moment they bought a brownie cake and placed it on the table in front of rire...the poor boy disappeared. Which confused the two at first, but then they realized it actually works! Rire would stay in hell until he knows for sure, that the brownies were gone.

Treehouse: The treehouse that they built in the forest is still there standing stable till this day, and that treehouse holds a lot of childhood memory. Strade Sano & Rire would often sleep in that treehouse as their comfort zone and also since it's the place they mostly hang out in. They carved their names on the treehouse door, something like this; "LR+SK+S" Which obviously means in order; "Lucien Rire+Sano Kojima+Strade". Of course soon strade had to move out of his old town and so did sano and rire. They left their old treehouse but kept their stuff there.

Present: Whenever Y/N is free they sometimes go to the Kojima brothers house just to hangout or sleep over. One day they stumbled upon an old photo of the main trio. Rire in the center, strade on his left side and sano on his right side. The photo looked like it was taken a few years back and Y/N was able to open the frame and found a note attached to the back of the photo which had coordinates, which if your guessing correctly; Leads to their old treehouse. Akira & Y/N visited that place and found the treehouse with all of their stuff still there in the same places where they left it. And if they went all the way to the back, they would find a wooden box container which is filled with many cassette tapes and writing of dates. Strade would record those childhood videos and put them on cassette tapes so there was a lot of them. Of course, Y/N & Akira ended up watching some of the videos in the end and didn't bother telling sano, strade, or rire.

Anyway that's pretty much my version of the BTD main trio kid AU. Let me now which one should I do next down below here ⬇️⬇️⬇️

(Btw, credits to the art above belongs to @darqx)

#boyfriend to death #btd #btd akira #btd rire #btd sano #btd strade #gatobob #lawrence oleander #ren hana btd #alternate universe

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sleep-drunk-kitten · 3 days

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pairing: Jay x fem!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst/miscommunication trope? if you squint? Oneshot bullet point fic

content warnings: none

Summary: Sunoo is sick of watching you pine after Jay when he clearly has feelings for you too, so he devises a plan to give the two of you some much needed alone time

notes: this was the result of a very delusional conversation I had with @nar-nia, thank you for fueling my delulu thoughts and beta reading the first draft love <3 I would never have posted this if it wasn't for your support ;*

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

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You were going to kill Jake and Sunoo

This was all their fault

They were the ones who had insisted that you all leave the “stuffy” confines of the airbnb your friendgroup had rented for your annual trip to the beach to visit the boardwalk and amusement park barely an hour after you’d all arrived

Doing everything in their power to drag a spaced out Sunghoon and a tired looking Jay along

Sunoo sulking and singing an extremely off-key rendition of “part of your world” while dragging you through the living room in a clumsy waltz, gesturing dramatically at the large glass windows leading out onto the patio to emphasise his point every time he hit a line about dancing or walking

When his attempts at annoying them into going inevitably failed, he decided the only thing left was to get both you and niki on his side and beg

Convincing Niki was a bit of a task, the younger boy content to lounge around on a beanbag with his nintendo

He probably would’ve stayed there had if it was only Sunoo asking him for help... purely for the sake of annoying his hyung

But Jake overheard Sunoo's whispered pleas, and when he joined the campaign and asked the younger boy for help, Niki couldn’t really find it in him to say no

Enlisting your help was significantly easier, even if you were a bit annoyed by his earlier antics

Because while you were close to everyone in your little group, Sunoo in particular had a special place in your heart, having been by your side since childhood, you would do almost anything for him

Even if it meant putting on an indifferent facade in front of the man you’d been in love with for an unhealthily long time

Jay really didn’t want to go to the amusement park

although the rest of you had gotten to sleep and recharge between stops, he and Sunghoon were both tired after staying alert and herding you all from place to place all morning

All he wanted to do was sleep

But Sunoo had somehow managed to rope both you and Niki in on his schemes

It would have been hard enough to say no to his precious little brother

But you?

How could he say no when you were asking so nicely? Pleading your case by saying that this was a trip you’d all taken to make memories together, so what was the point if Jay and Sunghoon weren’t there with you?

God you were just too cute

Jay tries to appeal to you and Niki, knowing there’s no point in trying to talk Sunoo out of this

“But (y/n)-ah, Niki, we’re tired, it’s been such a long day, can’t we just stay in till dinnertime?”

“Exactly,” Sunghoon says from his spot beside Jay, eyes coming back into focus for the first time since you’d started speaking, “we could always go tomorrow, the fair isn’t going anywhere.”

“It is, actually,” Heeseung joins the fray, walking into the living room from the kitchen, looking at something on his phone. “Or at least the ferris wheel is, they’re closing it down for maintenance tomorrow, and it won’t be open again till the day we’re leaving.”

“See! Heeseung gets it!” you exclaim, high fiving him.

Jay feels his heart sink just a little at the sight

It had been almost two years since Niki had told him about your feelings for Heeseung, casually dropping the bomb as the two of them sat on lawn chairs by Jake’s pool, watching you try and fail to yank him off a large unicorn shaped pool float and into the water

Jay had played it cool, laughing along like it meant nothing

Except it did

Because Jay had realised very early on in your friendship that he was a dead man walking

From the moment when Sunoo dragged you over to their table at lunch, announcing that you were his best friend, and you’d introduced yourself with a nervous little smile on your face

To the days where you walked home with them, laughing and bickering with Jake over silly things like whether or not water was wet and if black was a color

And all the times he’d seen you sitting quietly with Niki, allowing him to lean on you like an older sister

With every day that passed, Jay had found himself falling faster and faster, till he got to a point where he feared there was no return

But he was too late

You liked Heeseung

And whether you chose to act on that or not, it just wasn’t his place to try and win you over when you liked someone else

So he sets his feelings aside, packing them neatly away and schooling his expression into something as neutral as possible

“That’s just the ferris wheel though, isn’t it?” Sunghoon asks, still trying to find a reason to stay curled into the soft couch cushions

“Yeah but (y/n)’s been looking forward to trying the ferris wheel since we started planning!” Sunoo whines, nudging you pointedly

“Mnmm!” you nod, It wasn’t exactly true, you’d only mentioned once that the ferris wheel looked pretty

But they didn’t have to know that

“Really, (y/n)?” Jay asks

You nod enthusiastically, not knowing how much you’d regret it

Jay can feel his resolve crumbling, how could he deny you anything when you look so genuinely excited about it? He’d rather drown himself in the sea than be one to take that away from you

So here you all were, walking along the crowded boardwalk, passing by booths with an assortment of hand crafted souvenirs and trinkets on display against a backdrop of colorful cloths, the smell of warm sugar and sizzling street foods mingling with the ocean breeze

It was all fun and games at first, all of you trying foods, taking pictures, walking up to a few stalls and attempting to win prizes, competing to see who could walk away with the biggest stuffed toy that night

You were laughing, joking around with Jungwon, winning a large duck plushie for Niki, twirling around and showing off the pretty sundress you’d thrown on when Sunoo pointed his camcorder at you

Blissfully unaware of the pointed looks passing between him and Jake

The two of them had noticed early on the way Jay stuck close to you

Carefully placing himself between you and any other tourists who were brushing past a little too close for comfort

Watching you twirl for the camera with such a nauseatingly lovesick expression on his face that Sunoo nearly gagged

Only to move away as soon as Heeseung approached you

Giving the two of you “space”

Space to do what exactly Sunoo had no idea

Sure you’d liked Heeseung when you’d first been introduced to his friends

But that hadn’t lasted long at all

Your affections quickly shifting to someone else

The poor pink-haired boy had lost count of the number of times he’d had to listen to you complain about how handsome Jay was

How kind and attentive he was

What an amazing husband he’d be one day

How lucky his future wife would be

Sunoo wanted to grab you by the shoulders and remind you that there was a fair chance that that future wife could be you

He had done just that on more than one occasion

But you brushed him aside every time

Saying there was no way Jay could ever have feelings for you

It drove him insane

Especially when he noticed the way Jay looked at you

Jake was thankfully spared from most of your rants

But he was very much aware of how you felt

And he agreed with Sunoo, there was absolutely no way Jay didn’t return your feelings

So the two of them had come up with a plan

At some point, Jake let slip that while you were very excited about riding he ferris wheel, you were actually scared to go on because you were afraid of heights

You turned to him in surprise, unsure how to respond to the wholly false claim without exposing the fact that you’d lied about wanting to ride the ferris wheel in the place

Sunoo joined in a moment later, complaining about how he’d tried to convince you that it wasn’t all that scary, that these things were checked regularly to ensure they were safe, but that you just wouldn’t listen

You’d elbowed him in the ribs, confusion painted across your features

When Jay made a suggestion

An absolutely terrifying one

“Well… one of us could go with you if you’d like? It probably won’t be as bad if you’re not all by yourself”

“That would be brilliant! But Jake and I promised to go in the haunted house with Niki…”

“I could go with her then, I don’t really feel like scaring myself silly when I won’t be sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

“Could you? That would be great! Whaddya say (y/n)?”

All three pairs of eyes land on you, and for a moment you feel your mouth go dry

On a ferris wheel… In a small glass box… alone… with Jay…

It sounds absolutely terrifying

“I’m not too sure…” you start to say, but Jay bumps his shoulder against yours, and when you manage to will yourself to look at him, he’s smiling down at you

“C’mon, I’ll be right there with you he whole time,” he says, “you’ll regret it more if you don’t go.”

You swallow around the lump that’s formed in your throat

He’s right

You were the one who’d gone on and on about making memories

Here was a prime opportunity to build a memory you’d surely never forget

Wouldn’t you regret it more if you chickened out now?

“Okay…I’ll go,” you said

And the cheers that erupted from the three boys were so infectious that you forgot about the nervous butterflies filling your chest

Until of course you were actually on the ferris wheel

The glass doors sliding shut to seal your fate

You hadn’t known that there was only one seat in the capsul

Hadn’t counted on being right next to Jay, your thighs occasionally knocking together

The proximity was doing nothing to help the racing of your heart, sharp pinpricks of heat blossoming under your skin and spreading up your neck and ears

“(y/n), you there?”

Jay’s voice startles you a little, and you wince before you can catch yourself

“Huh? Oh yeah… I’m here, sorry”

Your familiar, nervous laugh makes Jay smile a little, reminding him of the day you first met

But he quickly brushes the memory aside, choosing to focus on you

You seemed uncomfortable

Were you really this afraid of heights?

He tries his best to smile reassuringly, tilting his head to one side so he’s looking up at you instead of it being the other way round

“Well hello, welcome back,” he says, unaware of the way those few words send the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy

“Hi…” you manage back, mentally patting yourself on the back for how normal your voice sounds

“Hi,” he chuckles, and the sound makes your brain go a little fuzzy, so much so that you barely register it when he gestures behind him. “I know you’re avoiding looking out for a reason, but you really should.”

“What? Oh, right, I- ooh.”

You sigh, suddenly forgetting why you’d been panicking in the first place

“It’s beautiful…” you say, but you’re also looking at Jay when you say it, golden light washing over his skin, making him glow against the backdrop of the sea

“It is,” he says, and if you’d been paying more attention, you would have noticed two things:

Jay’s back was to the sunset, he’d been looking at you the whole time

The ferris wheel had stopped moving some moments prior

Unfortunately for you both, your mind only processes the second, your eyes as wide as dinner plates when your brain catches up with your body and the lack of motion finally sets in

“Jay… Is this ride supposed to stop?”

“No?”

“No?!”

“I mean I’m pretty sure it’s not?!”

Realisation dawns on you, and you rush to the side of the pod, watching as Sunoo and Jake, your own best friend smiles back you, blowing you a kiss

You know what they'd done.

You know because you would have done the same in a heartbeat

The butterflies in your chest seem to double, wings beating frantically against your ribcage

The panic that had temporarily subsided beginning to creep back up your spine

Buzzing through your veins and going straight to your head

How long would you be up here? What were you supposed to do when your heart felt like it was caught in your throat? How were you supposed to remain calm when Jay was sitting right next to you looking so so beautiful knowing he probably thought you were insane for freaking out like this when it really wasn't a big deal and you should have been fine and-

“Hey, hey, calm down, breathe, I was wrong, stop looking out there (y/n).”

Oh no

He’s touching you now, a hand on your arm pulling you back, tugging you away from the glass and the view that honestly didn’t scare you as much as he thought it did

And closer to him

The real reason you felt like you were going to vibrate right out of your skin

Your eyes dart around almost frantically, focusing on anything but him

Jay watches you fidget in your seat, hands clasped together in your lap, face flushed, breathing uneven

He’s never seen you like this before

And he can’t help but blame himself

He should’ve never let Sunoo and Jake talk you into this

“(y/n), (y/n) please, I need you to breathe, look at me please.”

His hands come up to gently cup your cheeks, turning your face away from the “frightening” view outside and forcing you to make direct eye contact with him

You feel your heart stutter where it’s lodged in your throat

“Focus on me, please, don’t think about anything else, just focus and breathe for me, yeah?”

You could cry

Tears welling up in the corners of your eyes

Jay has absolutely no idea how difficult he’s making this for you

Completely clueless to the way the deepening crease between his brows makes you want to kiss it

How the way his lips are pressed together with worry makes your heart flip in your chest

“(y/n), I can feel you shaking, this is just a technical difficulty, you’re okay, nothing’s going to happen.”

But I want it to

The words rest on the tip of your tongue

You want something to happen

The longer you stare at him the harder it is to focus on his eyes, the task proving impossible with the way your heart squeezes painfully in your chest at how soft and open they are, how intently he’s looking at you, it makes you feel like you’re special to him when you know you’re not

He’s looking out for you the same way he would Niki or Jungwon

You need to remember that

But not looking at his eyes means looking at the rest of him

Which you soon discover is almost as dangerous, because what you find yourself focusing on now is his lips

The way they curve around the vowels of your name as he tries to talk you through the jumbled, scattered thoughts and feelings he's causing

Oh the irony

But he's not really faring much better

Jay feels like he’s going insane

He sees the way your eyes keep flickering across his face

Settling on his lips just a little too long for his peace of mind

You're making him question how you really feel about him

Pulling at the strings wound tightly across the box of memories he'd stashed neatly away

Moments where he'd been sure you looked at him in ways friends weren't really supposed to look at each other

He can't do this

Jay pulls his hands away from your face, allowing them to flutter over your skin

Over your jaw

Down your neck

Across your shoulders

Before coming to settle on your upper arms

Leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, gently pushing you away, holding you at arms length, his body bowed as if in pain

“You can’t do that (y/n),” he breathes, letting out a shuddering breath

“Jay?” your voice is barely anything above a whisper, fear creeping in with the panic

Did he see? Did he notice? Did you somehow manage to make him uncomfortable after everything you’d doen to avoid that exact scenario?

“You can’t keep looking at me like that when you have feelings for Heeseung.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, for the cogs in your mind to turn them over and process them through white noise and fog filling your head like cotton

And when they finally do sink in, you blanch, willing yourself to get it together, to apologise, to do whatever you had to do to salvage the situation

But Jay speaks again before you can

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t mean anything to me.”

It’s Jay’s turn to swallow around the lump in his throat, his grip on your arms tightening, face downturned, staring at the peeling blue vinyl between you

The butterflies in your chest slow, settling along your ribs so the anxious beating of their wings stills to a steady thrum

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, surprising yourself with how calm you sounded

“I mean… I mean that you have no idea how insane it makes me when I see you with him, when you’re laughing together and you smile at him like he’s your whole world, because I wish you’d look at me like that, because… and I know it’s selfish but I wish that I could be the only one to make you laugh… But I know that you like Hee, and that’s okay, my feelings are my own, it’s not on you to take responsibility for them, but I need to take care of my own heart (y/n) I feel like I’m losing my mind I-”

“Jay,” you cut him off, voice coming out more harsh than you’d intended, but it works, his mouth snapping shut immediately. “Jay, look at me please,” you say, more gently this time.

He does as you ask, and your heart breaks a little when you realise that his eyes are as glassy as yours

You place your hands over his, and for one, horrible moment, though he knows he deserves it, though he knows you have every right to, he thinks you’re going to tear yourself away from him.

But you don’t.

Your hands are warm against his, too warm, and they’re still shaking, but they’re moving his lower, over your elbows, onto your sides, till they come to rest on your waist. He can feel your pulse in your wrists, matching his beat for anxious beat

He’s so distracted by how soft you feel and how perfectly you fit in his hands that he flinches when you lean towards him, moving away from you on instinct

Cute, you think, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching upwards

“What if I want to?” you whisper, his pupils blown wide as he searches your expression, “what if I want to take responsibility for your feelings?”

For a moment, you’re sure neither of you remembers how to breathe. The world standing still

Jay isn’t really sure he’s capable of forming a coherent sentence, words rushing through his skull and coming to an abrupt halt before they could make it past his lips

So he settles for the next best thing

Slowly, his hand moves from your waist, brushing against your knuckles, tentatively lacing his fingers through your own, careful to give you time to pull away should you wish to

But you don’t

You level your gaze with his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as if to say ‘go on’

He lets out a breath, he didn’t know he was holding, cautiously bringing your hand up to his lips, barely brushing them over your skin before turning your hand over and placing a soft, chaste kiss against your palm

His eyes don’t leave yours for even a moment, watching you intently, gauging your reactions. When you don’t flinch or move away, he lets your entwined hands fall to the side.

“What about Heeseung?” he asks, even as he’s leaning towards you, even when you can feel the ghost of his lips on yours.

You giggle despite yourself, bringing your free hand up to thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “It was never him, silly…”

A shiver runs down his spine, whether from your words or your actions neither of you can really say

And it doesn’t really matter anyway

Your eyes flutter closed, you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin-

And the ferris wheel starts turning again with a sharp jolt

Sending you crashing into each other, foreheads knocking together painfully

You both groan in pain, looking around confusedly, trying to regain your bearings as the moment passes

When your eyes meet again, and you realise that your hands are clasped together tightly between you, neither of you can stop the fit of giggles bubbling up in your chests

You’re both still laughing by the time you make it back to the bottom, the doors sliding open to reveal your friends waiting for you with triumphant smiles on their faces

Niki grumbling as he hands Sunoo several folded bills

You let go of Jay’s hand the second you see it, marching over to kick their shins

“You didn’t even go to the haunted house did you?” you whisper-yell, glaring daggers at them

Sunoo’s smile is pure evil, flicking your nose and replying in the most annoyingly smug tone you’d ever heard. “Now now, (y/n), is that any way to talk to the person who so graciously helped you get over the pathetic moping phase of your crush?”

“Which lasted much too long by the way,” Jake chimes in, joining the conversation

“You were in on this?!”

“You weren’t exactly subtle sweetheart, Jay was just fed false information thanks to this kid.”

“Excuse me?”

The bickering continues as you all walk away from the ferris wheel, Niki and Jake both getting whacked over the head with the large pink octopus Sunoo had won for you as an apology (the only reason he wasn’t getting beaten up too)

It isn’t until the two of them run away from you, cackling like hyenas, that you feel an arm wrap round your waist

Holding you loosely, Jay leans down so only you can hear him

“We’ll finish that conversation later, (y/n).”

And then he’s gone

Leaving you standing there, feeling flustered enough to match the octopus in your arms, glaring at a snickering Sunoo

#kiki writes things ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡#enhypen #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #engene #oneshot

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syndullqs · 24 hours

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 — 𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒉

summary — a mission unlocks memories in your brain you’d rather forget. tech helps, in his own way.

warnings — gn!reader, angst, fluff, mentions of childhood trauma, hunter’s a prick

note — i heard this sound on tiktok and it unlocked a memory i did NOT want unlocked lol so enjoy this self indulgent piece

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘. it’s funny how something as small as a child crying causes someone to fold in on themselves. you almost were shot because of it, and you definitely got an earful back on the marauder.

“what were you thinking? just standing there? you could’ve been killed!” hunter’s voice penetrated your clouded thoughts, scolding you for a poor job. he had a point; you were almost killed.

“but i wasn’t, hunter, so what’s the big deal?” you challenge, crossing your arms over your chest. what was next, was he going to question how you worked with the team? was he going to exclude you from future missions? you almost dared him.

“the big deal? y/n you nearly cost us the mission and you could have been killed,” he paused, taking a minute to think. though, given his next words, he should have taken more time to think, “i think you should sit out on the next mission,” his voice was still raised, breaths spilling from his mouth like he ran a marathon.

yet there it was.

exclusion.

“fine, it’s your call, you’re the sergeant,” your words were not short of being venomous, making hunter realize instantly what he just told you. you were a valuable asset to the batch, a sounding board, and he just told you to sit out.

there wasn’t a lot of places for you to go, so you sat in the co-pilot’s chair. you brought a knee up to your chest, resting your chin on it. the silence was comforting, but your mind still swam. hunter’s words, their words, the child crying…

“for the record, i don’t think you should sit out next mission,” tech was the first to speak, the softness and quietness of his voice illustrating just how unused to that he was. his words only earned a scoff from you.

“it was the child crying, no?” he guessed. tech noticed the shift in your demeanor when the child started crying to her mother, wondering why everyone left. you grew stiff, your eyes unfocused, and of course, you were nearly shot.

“what gave me away?” you asked him, still refusing to meet eyes with him. despite tech not being well-versed in comfort, he still knew how to read people. he could read them very well. interpreting those emotions was a different skill.

“the fact you were nearly shot, mainly,” he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “but also the way your demeanor changed. your shoulders tightened, your eyes widened. not to mention your voice changed,” he went on to describe just how much your body changed. you didn’t think he paid that much attention to you.

“i didn’t think it was that obvious,” you shrugged, taking your chin off of your knee. you slid your eyes over to meet his, the softness of them underneath his goggles provided an odd place of comfort for you. he didn’t judge you, he was merely stating facts.

“it was,” he felt heat rise to his cheeks, a feeling he logically knew was because of his attraction to you. emotionally, he wouldn’t acknowledge it.

“at least to me,” tech added softly, attempting to make the situation better than what it was. your eyes widened again, unsure of how to feel about this. ever since you started working with the bad batch, talking about emotional experiences was hard with tech. so you didn’t. hearing him acknowledge your feelings and talk about his own shocked you. it shouldn’t have.

“when i was a kid, i was bullied a lot,” you started, pulling down the wall you’ve built up over the years, “their form of bullying was excluding me from things. i was invited to parties, but never talked to. i was never played with, and kids made fun of me for the stuff i liked,” you continued. you’ve never spoken to any of them about this. it was too sensitive. the fear of rejection and judgement was too strong.

silence followed, filling the space between you. tech didn’t know what to say, but he knew that this was sensitive information. he knew that it was hard for you to talk about, and so he didn’t want to say anything to potentially make things worse.

“hearing that little girl cry, asking her mother where everyone went, it just…i don’t know. it was under different circumstances but still,” you were failing to understand why the moment froze you. hunter was right, you could have been killed.

“it was a different circumstance, but,” tech started, his words coming out slowly as he processed them, “your fight or flight kicked in. it’s human nature whenever we come in contact with something that’s upset us or, dare i say, traumatized us,” his eyes searched yours, trying to read the expression on your face. tech knew what it was like to be ostracized for the things you’re good at. he was a defective clone, he knew almost exactly what you felt.

“when…when i was a cadet, still on kamino, i wasn’t treated very kindly by the regs simply for being different. the words they said, even some of the things they did, it was not kind of them,” tech’s words marinated in your mind for a moment. you found yourself completely facing him, engrossed in the man in front of you. you finally found someone to relate to, that knew what it was like to be excluded and bullied. for once, you could breathe.

“you didn’t deserve that,”

“neither did you,” he agreed, his warm, brown eyes cradling yours. he came to the same realization you did. he wasn’t as alone as he thought he was. as much as he wished neither of you went through what you did, it brought you two together, and he was grateful for that.

“we do need to work on your fight, flight, or freeze response,” he lightened the mood. you smiled and laid back in your chair.

“i know i know,” you smiled. you didn’t catch it, but tech smiled too.

here’s some tech! this was kind of self indulgent so i apologize for that, i still hope you enjoy though!

#star wars #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #star wars the clone wars #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb imagine #tech bad batch imagines #tech x reader #tech bad batch x reader

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yoonivy · 9 hours

Text

my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 4.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. angst!!! 01| 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

---

King’s Landing is in utter disarray.

The past week in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms has been a shitstorm – for a lack of a better word.

Starting with the secret death of King Viserys I Targaryen. Then the gathering and holding captive of the supporters of the decreed heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, in order for the Greens to usurp her birthright to give the crown to Prince Aegon. Then, there was the destruction of the Dragonpit during Prince Aegon’s – no, now King Aegon’s – coronation from when Princess Rhaenys made her escape on her dragon Meleys by breaking through the ground from the dungeons, resulting in the deaths of many smallfolks. And, finally, Princess Rhaenyra has found out of her father’s death and her younger half-brother’s ascent to the throne, and from a parley with the King’s hand, Otto Hightower, she had declared she is the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the Greens are the ones who are traitors to the crown.

Now, like a Cyvasse board with most of the pieces of the game set in place, each side is quiet again, both thoroughly planning their next move.

In Maegor’s Holdfast, Prince Aemond Targaryen sits on a leather accented chair, staring at one of the walls in his bedchamber – all four bare and empty, letting him be with just himself in complete withdrawal. Perhaps to decompress all that has happened. Perhaps to think about nothing at all. Perhaps to… Aemond does not even know.

All he really knows is that he just needed time to himself.

In the first half of this whirlwind of a week, he played a foolish cat and mouse game with his older brother – at the behest of his mother – to bring him back first to the Keep before his grandfather’s men, to force him of his fated coronation. Now Aemond has to watch Aegon gloat as he wears the crown that he did not even want — a crown that Aemond wants for himself — and it sickens the younger Targaryen prince.

Beyond that, he has not even properly mourned the death of his father yet. Or even, at all .

Aemond is not sure if he could even anymore. They’ve tarnished his legacy, spat in the face of his decree of having Princess Rhaenyra as his heir. His mother, Queen Alicent, said that his dying wish, whispered only to her ear, was that the King wanted Aegon to be the one on the Iron Throne after him instead of his first-born daughter. Aemond is not sure that even he believes that. But his heart has grown cold and bitter through the years – wanting power more than anything else now – and with Rhaenyra stripped from her title, he has risen up a step to be next in line after his baby nephew, Jaehaerys, one half of Aegon’s and Helaena’s twins.

So Aemond cannot mourn his father. Has to push back the memory of his death into the back confines of his mind – where he had stuffed and locked away other painful memories; like an island full of evergreens, a touch of a hand he had known better than his own, and a promise of forever whispered against soft lips he thought he’d be kissing his whole life.

It causes him to sit there in his bedchamber, basking in the selfishness and treachery of his family in the wake of his father’s death.

Live in it.

Let it become him.

It is the only way he can deal with all of it.

The Prince’s solitude is broken by Ser Criston, the newly appointed Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, entering his bedchamber.

“You’ve been called to the council chamber, my Prince.”

Aemond nods then stands, knowing that whatever they are summoning him for, he shall do.

For the victory of his family.

For the unspoken promise of the crown to one day be put upon his head.

---

Aemond is one of the last to arrive at the council chamber. His mother, the Dowager Queen, and his grandfather, the Hand of the King, were already on either side of King Aegon once the doors shut for the small council to start their meeting.

There is a map of Westeros laid on the table that they are all gathered around. As they discuss, there are pieces getting placed on different areas on the map to represent which Houses are for Aegon or for Rhaenyra – and of the latter, which Houses they can possibly turn to rescind their loyalty to Rhaenyra and bend the knee to Aegon instead.

Aemond cannot help the sinking feeling in his stomach when he sees Ser Tyland Lannister place a black pawn piece on a tiny island just North-West of Winterfell – Bear Island.

“The Mormonts?! For Rhaenyra ?” King Aegon scoffs out a laugh. “Surely they’ll be willing to bend the knee to me–” Aegon catches his younger brother’s gaze, a hopeful and gleeful smile spreading on his lips, “Right, brother?”

But Aemond simply breaks eye contact from him, looking back down at the piece on the island, devoid of any emotion. The answer of silence from Aemond has the King’s smile falling slowly.

From beside Aegon, Queen Alicent looks at her second son in an expression quite hard to read.

Is it pity… or guilt?

Only the Queen knows.

And maybe the one who speaks up next.

“It would be a waste of time, Your Grace,” Otto Hightower says gruffly. He does not seem to be in turmoil like the Queen is though, only obviously very frustrated at how politically unsavvy the new King is. “The Mormonts will follow where the Starks go, like most Houses of the North. So if we were to do any negotiating up there, we should focus on the Starks instead.”

“The Wolf of the North is as stubborn and loyal as the other Heads of House Stark that came before him,” Orwyle, the Grand Maester, says. “Cregan Stark might have written back to us back that he does not care for the politics of the South, but if push comes to shove, I fear they will stay with the Blacks.” “Not only that,” Ser Criston begins, “His younger brother, Willam, is also a part of Rhaenyra’s Queen’s Guard.”

“So we just give up the North?!” Alicent questions, exasperated. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“For now ,” Otto says in a tone that also tells his daughter to get her wits about her, keep her emotions in check. “So we should pivot our attention on a House we can sway to our side–” He leans forward, tapping on the black pawn piece on Storm’s End, eyes flicking to Aemond when he does so, “I propose for Prince Aemond to go to Storm’s End, break bread with Lord Borros Baratheon and bring their powerful House over to our side. Offer yourself to betrothed one of his daughters if need be. I say you ride there now, show them the promised consequence of their refusal by landing in on Vhagar.”

Alicent sucks in a breath, looking from her father then to her son. She cannot believe her father would just suggest this when they’ve not discussed this beforehand. “Aemond…” His eye finds her when she calls for him. The blank look on his face has her frowning. “Are you willing to do this… for us?”

Then he smiles, but it does not quite reach his eye. It is just there to placate her and everyone around.

“Of course, mother,” Aemond says, dipping his head in a bow. “I’ll do whatever I have to.” He then nods to his grandfather. “For the name of our House and the throne.” And then to his brother. “For the King.”

The Queen looks to her father, finds him already looking at her.

Aren’t you glad? The grin on the Hand’s face says. That we intervened all those years ago? And now Aemond is still free to betrothed a woman that will help with our cause?

No! Alicent wants to scream, but instead she just turns away, watching the back of her second son as he leaves the council room to do what was asked of him. A foreboding feeling twists in her stomach.

---

It all went wrong.

It has all gone horribly wrong .

Aemond takes fast and hasty steps through the halls of the Keep, his hurried breathing near hyperventilating. The rain that showered him on his flight home on Vhagar has already dried, but he still feels the heaviness of it over his body.

He disturbs his family and some of the members of the King’s small council when he bursts through the door of the hall as they feast their dinner. His mother stands up in worry at the sight of the anguish on his face, asking him what was wrong. What happened?

Aemond’s mouth opens, and he blurts it all out.

That Lucerys Velaryon, his nephew, came to Storm’s End while he was in the middle of negotiating with Borros Baratheon.

That he simply just wanted to scare the boy, threatening to take out his eye for the one the young man had taken from him.

That it was Arrex’s – Lucerys’ dragon – fault for angering Vhagar.

That he tried to stop Vhagar but she did not listen to him.

That he ended up taking more than just Lucerys’ eye.

The Dowager Queen crumples to the floor, a hand pressed to her mouth to suppress the agonizing cries that want to spill out, tears streaming down her eyes to mourn for a son that is not her own.

Aemond watches his mother, murmuring for her dear friend, the one she grew up with and the one she was losing in this game of thrones – only held together loosely with a string of love that they woven so strongly when they were just little girls. But after tonight, it will be completely severed.

“We have to tell her,” Alicent sobs. “We need to tell Rhaenyra. This one… This one we can’t keep from her. She deserves to know .”

But the small council present ignores her to argue amongst themselves, shouting over the other of which way is the best way to approach this unfortunate event. Aemond then feels eyes on him, and when he turns, he sees that it is Helaena looking at him — horrified — clutching her nearly four years old twin babes closely to her side, the kids terrified at all the shouting. To make matters worse, even Aegon seems disturbed at what he had done. Aegon – the man who is known to lay his rough hands on women who do not want his touch and betted coins on feral children to fight for their lives in the rat pits of Flea Bottom.

Then his mother glances up from where she is still a heap on the floor, and even she cannot stop the flicker of disdain when she meets her second son’s gaze.

Kinslayer , their voices scream at him in his head.

There is a constricting pressure in his chest, threatening to arrest his heart if he did not get away.

Perhaps he should just stay put and let the Stranger take him.

An eye for an eye. A son for a son.

But Aemond turns around instead, storming out the door from whence he had just came from.

Though his mind is numb and blank, his feet keep moving, taking him somewhere.

Where Aemond finds himself is in front a set of dark double doors and he should have known this is where his overflow of grief and remorse would mindlessly take him. Looking upon it, he lets out a shuddering breath — before he is pushing the handle to let himself inside.

The pungent smell of death hits his nostril as soon as he steps inside. It almost made him turn right around, but he pushes through and swallows down the bile threatening to come out of him. Aemond was not even surprised about the horrid smell. The small council now puppeteering his fool of a brother did this : left his father secretly decaying in his deathbed for the past week, all so they can conspire behind the back of his half-sister Rhaenyra without her even knowing that her father was dead.

The Silent Sisters took his father’s body away last night, working on the process to finally let him rest properly. Maybe that is why Aemond could not even mourn him. How can you mourn someone that was made to be thought of as alive?

Aemond closes the door behind him, looking around his father’s room. He has not been here in so long – even way before his father’s death in this room.

The prince did not want to admit it but… He hated the sight of his father in the last few years of his life. The disease that plagued the late King Viserys made him look like a husk of a man, rotting his flesh from the inside out. And when the sickness took Viserys’ eye, hollowed out the socket that he had to wear a gold mask to hide the sight of it from his people; Aemond did not feel any solace of a bond between them. If anything, there was this little voice in the back of Aemond’s head that said that is not what a king ought to look like.

Aemond regrets it, but there is nothing he can do about it now.

The miniature model of Old Valyria that his father once poured all his free time over lay in the middle of the solar more lifeless than before, with the webbing of spiders on every surface and corners of the blocks of buildings. Aemond walks up to it and swipes his hand through the webs in an attempt to make the model look like what it once was, when his father was alive and well enough to take care of it.

While doing so, Aemond accidentally knocks something over onto the floor. When he bends down to pick it up, he sees in his hand a wooden model of dragon.

He made this.

With…

To hold back happy memories made bitter through the years, he thinks about it more broadly. He made this with the Mormont siblings and their old Maester Garland who loved to make miniature models like his father did. Aemond gave it to his father after he came from one of his travels, and his father smiled at him so lovingly and pulled up a stool for Aemond to sit and they spent the rest of the day in this solar, his father telling him stories of the place their ancestors came from.

The memory makes Aemond smile sadly.

Perhaps wherever his father and Maester Garland are now, they are free to build a miniature model of the whole of Westeros together, if the New and Old Gods are merciful and kind and allowed them to.

Maybe Lucerys is there with them too.

Aemond puts his shaking hand against his mouth and takes a shuddering breath, remembering once again what he had done. He paces the room, his body shivering and beading in sweat at the dreadful thought.

And that is when he sees it, from the corner of his eye, in the far wall of his father’s solar, peeking behind a bunch of things hoarded inside the room. He knows what it is, so he does not know why he starts to move the many piles of books and boxes holding various items to get to it.

He is heavily breathing by the time he has made enough room for a path for him to get to it.

The backing board of the golden frame leaning on the wall is what faces him when he reaches it. He takes a deep inhale as he fingers swipe across the dust collected on the frame, remembering just how it got there.

It had to be at least two years ago when he furiously grabbed the golden frame off from where it hung on the wall in his bedchamber. It was the last thing in his life that reminded him of the bears on Bear Island, the rest already burnt into ashes under Vhagar’s fire. He strode through Maegor’s Holdfast carrying the heavy frame, determined with just his rage. Another courier had just returned and informed him that the youngest Lady of Bear Island turned him away, grimacing at the sight of the gift.

And that was it. That was the last straw. Aemond was done trying.

It was his mother that caught him in the act, the undeniable fury in her son’s features and the sight of the golden frame made her face fall.

“What are you doing?!” Alicent asked in a panic, placing herself in front of him and grabbing onto his arms to stop him in his tracks.

“I’m taking this where it belongs. Under Vhagar’s fire.”

His mother shook her head, disapproving of his plans.

“I… I know she has not written to you, or accepted any of the couriers you sent to her, but…” Alicent pressed her lips together, looking away as tears swell in her eyes. “I don’t want you to regret it if you burn your memory of her.”

“Why would I regret it? I’m just treating her how she had treated me. She’s dead to m–”

“Aemond!” Alicent admonished, glaring at him. Aemond did not know why his mother was taking her side. It puzzled him. He watched his mother take a deep breath, and then she turned to him again. “Come, I know a place you can take it. A place where it will be out of your sight forever… Or at least until you can bear to look at it again.”

Then before he could disagree, his mother took one side of the heavy frame, helping him carry it. As they walked together, she refused the help of any of the guards. Her face was unreadable as to why, but the weight of the painting was heavy on her back.

When they stopped in front of his father’s door, Aemond questioned why — his mother knew he hated it in there.

“Exactly,” Alicent said with a sad smile. “You’ll never step foot in here unless you have to… So it is the perfect place.”

And as always. His mother was right. Now he stands there, looking at the backing board of the painting and is desperate to see the face that would stare back at him once he turns it around.

So he does.

At the sight of your gentle smiling face, Aemond falls to his knees, grabbing onto the sides of the golden frame. His heart clenching so much so.

As much as it hurts to look upon you, you still give him a sense of relief as well. It’s confusing. It’s terrifying – how you still have such a hold on him when he has tried so hard to make the taste of your name his mouth so bitter that he has to spit it out.

Seeing your face again has him thinking crazy thoughts. That maybe, just maybe, if he can see you again, maybe you’ll tell him the real reason why you’ve spurned him. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe then he can tell you of everything that has happened, the pain and guilt in his heart. Maybe then you’ll wrap your arms around, comfort his hurting heart in a way that he knows only you could do.

And that’s when he thinks, fuck it…

He needs to see you again. He will see you again.

---

Vhagar knows that her bonded rider is not pleased with her. When they had returned to King’s Landing earlier that day, Prince Aemond did not pat her snout for a job well done like he usually does, he had just walked away in complete silence. She stared after him, the taste of dragon flesh mixed with human flesh still on her tongue.

So when Aemond climbed up onto her back that evening, no words or command were spoken to her – but she just knew where he wanted to go.

The storm follows them in their travel up North. Although the rain is heavy on their backs, Vhagar lands at her pit on Bear Island past midnight and in three days time – a record for the she-dragon.

Mormont guards meet Prince Aemond at the wooden gate of the wall surrounding the keep, and they escort him inside. Aemond tries not to tear up at the feeling of home as he follows behind them.

It is Braeden Mormont who greets Aemond at the entrance hall, a look of utter shock on his face at the sight of the prince – looking more and more like his father Lord Mormont than from the last time Aemond saw him. There is a woman by his side – Rebeca, his childhood friend and now wife – carrying a young, sleeping girl of what looks to be of age 5 – Marjorie, born during one of the years Aemond could not visit and the reason Braeden did not travel to King’s Landing for the wedding.

“Ae–” Braeden catches himself, “Prince Aemond, what are you doing here and at this hour?”

Eyes wild and words hurried, Aemond does not even hear him and questions him instead, “Your sister. Where is she? I need to see her.”

He must have looked so manic that Braeden gently brings his wife and child behind his back as he steps forward towards the prince, a protective papa bear. “My prince… I… I’m sorry to tell you but… My sister… She does not live on Bear Island anymore.”

Aemond’s heart stutters. Dread on as to why that is already dawning on him, but like a fool, he still asks anyway, “Why… Why doesn’t she live here anymore?”

Braeden frowns at him, pity and confusion mixed together. “She lives in Harrenhal now, my prince... With her Lord-Husband, Jeremy Strong.”

Aemond can feel his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, his hand clenching over it...

Jeremy Strong, who has the same coloring as Aemond’s nephew, Lucerys Velaryon – brown hair, brown eyes; instead of the Targaryen and Velaryon silver hair and purple eyes. Jeremy Strong, the man that shares the same name and blood with his uncle, Ser Harwin Strong, who was the rumored lover of Rhaenyra Targaryen during her first marriage with Laenor Velaryon – the reason why Aemond and his brothers call their nephews the Strong boys, implying their bastardness and their illegitimacy to the throne…

Wherever Lucerys is now, he must be smiling at how karma tastes — sweet like justice.

---

You awaken with a sudden gasp, your chest heaving, and a maddening thrumming in between your thighs.

The intangible dream of hurried mouth against mouth and a gaze filled with burning desire slipping through your fingertips with every second you become more aware of reality.

When your sleepy eyes flutter to take in your surroundings, it is your husband’s honeyed brown eyes you find, already on you.

Jeremy Strong’s immediate reaction is to turn away, embarrassed for being caught. His face is flushed pink when he mutters to the wall, “I apologize for staring, my l– La–” he stumbles his words, growing more red, then clears his throat, “My love.”

You do not know if you should smile with amusement or frown at how unsure he sounded.

I should tell him that it is quite alright for him to look upon me, for I am his, afterall.

But you have a feeling you would sound just as unsure as he had been if you said that aloud, so you forgo the thought. Instead you just tell him softly, “It’s alright, Jeremy.”

You sit up then, back against the headboard of the bed the two of you share, and watch as your Strong husband gets ready for his day.

Jeremy already has on his breeches, a heavy bulge straining at the front. Your whole body light afire at the sight of it, knowing it is probably there because of what he had witnessed while you were still asleep. Though the dream is far away from you now, the evidence of it is still wet between your legs.

When Jeremy throws a white tunic over his head, your gaze is on his body, transfixed. From the sparsely grown dark curls on his broad and muscular chest and down his navel, to the freckles splattered across his toned shoulders from working hard under the sun, and then to the healed scar on his left bicep from a spar with his older brother (you had smiled when you first saw it and when he told you the story, reminding you of your own from Jorah).

Just when he pulls the tunic down to cover himself completely, that is when he catches you and your ogling. Your eyes are quick to fall to where your hands lay on the furs around your body.

For two people who have spoken their vows to each under the eye of the Weirwood tree five long moons ago, you and your husband are embarrassingly still acting like blushing maidens around the other.

When your heartbeat evens, you brave glancing up at him again to ask, “What are your plans for the day?”

While shrugging on a dark brown leather jacket to fight the autumn chill, Jeremy says, “I will be overseeing the hunt today. I want to make sure we have enough rabbits for when your brother arrives.”

A warmth of tenderness spreads in your chest, your husband’s thoughtfulness causing you to smile.

In two days time, Jorah and Renee should be arriving in Harrenhal for a visit before they travel further south to settle in one of the villages in the Reach. It’s Jorah’s first time truly leaving Bear Island so Jeremy had wanted to make his favorite stew that your mother makes to ease his nervousness for the next big change in his life.

Jeremy even extended an invitation for Dorothea and her husband to visit as well, and they would be arriving in a day from Riverrun. You had not seen any of your family since your wedding so you are elated to see your dear sister and brother again.

Jeremy then turns towards you, and you softly awe at how truly beautiful he is with his kind, perpetually sleepy eyes and strong nose chiseled by the Gods themselves.

“Will you be hosting the kids for painting today?” Jeremy asks as he walks over to your side of bed.

“Yes, after noon,” you tell him just as he stops just beside where you are.

“Good, that’s, uh, good… Talia, she… she loves it,” he says, speaking for his niece.

“I’m glad,” you tell him with a small smile. “She is as talented as my sister.”

“She has a good teacher,” he compliments bashfully, only meeting your eyes for just a few seconds. Then he turns to the window, brows narrowed at the bleak view. “I should head out. They are most likely already waiting for me.”

You hum and nod, watching him from under long lashes. And this time, when his gaze turns to meet yours again, neither of you look away.

Then he is bending towards you, a slight hesitation in his movement but he pushes through, tucking his fingers around your chin to lift your face towards him. You find yearning in those mellow, golden browns; tender devotion that you do not think you have done anything to deserve.

But through the years, you’ve become greedy for intimacy, and it has come to a point when you just want to take, and take, and take. So when you lick your lips and your husband’s gaze flickers down to follow the movement of your tongue, you flutter your eyes shut in hopes for something that will get your heart racing.

What you feel though is but a chaste kiss pressed onto your forehead for a long second.

Then the closeness of him is gone.

When you open your eyes in obvious disappointment, Jeremy is sheepishly rubbing his hand behind his neck.

“I’ll be back for supper; so I’ll see you then… I, um, hope you have a good day, my love.”

Then he leaves and you cannot help but to glare after him.

Your poor, sweet Lord Husband only wishes to be respectful towards you but all you can do is burn him with your gaze, your hands clutching on the bedsheet in frustration.

Huffing, you plop back down on the pillows below you, desperately wishing you could have stayed in your dreamland a little bit longer.

---

It is Alys Rivers who enters your bedchamber next with a gentle knock, a little bit after your husband had departed.

But when your lady-in-waiting glides into the room, she is anything but gentle, with her feline-like eyes lined with kohl and her beautiful tresses as dark as the nights at Bear Island during the late Winter months. Even from the first time you met her, you knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

Although all that doesn’t make Alys any less sweet.

“My lady, why haven’t you gotten up? It is unladylike to wallow in bed when the birds are already singing,” Alys chides, but there is jest in her tone.

“There are no birds in Harrenhal, Alys,” you tell her, getting up finally at her behest. You frown out the window, dark clouds in the skies – like always. “Only crows.”

“But they still sing,” Alys says with a smile as she stands behind you when you sit on the chair in front of the vanity.

The crows do not sing . They caw and they rattle and they click, loud in their mourning. Perhaps to always remind the ones who still live in the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms of the last tragedy that befell in one the towers just a little more than a decade ago – continuing on the curse that is said to permeate through the walls of Harrenhal. How the previous head of House Strong, Lord Lyonel, and his heir, Ser Harwin Strong, burned to a painful death in a blazing fire that trapped them inside their chambers.

It was an awful story to hear. You can still picture the tears in your husband’s eyes when he told it to you. He was just a boy of ten and one when it happened, but the guilt for not being able to do anything still haunts him. He looked up to uncle so much, the valiant knight that once protected Princess Rhaenyra as her sworn shield – or, Queen Rhaenyra now.

You wonder why your first love never talked about Ser Harwin Strong before, for he sounded so good and righteous and brave like a knight of the Realm should be. He had told you tales of the other knights — like Ser Criston Cole, the Cargyll twins, Ser Harrold Westerling, and even his uncle, Prince Daemon Targaryen. But never of Ser Harwin.

“Your face will stay that way if you keep it up, my Lady,” Alys says with a light chuckle, breaking you from your thoughts. You huff a laugh back, softening your features.

Alys starts to brush your hair like your mother did, like Dorothea did, and for that, you are grateful for her. Alys’ presence brings you so much comfort in these cold stone walls. She is the only friend you have in Harrenhal besides your husband.

With your hair done in two loose double dutch fishtail braids, Alys moves to the wooden armoire. “What would you like to wear today, my Lady?”

“The violet dress, please,” is your instant answer, knowing it will cheer you up during this dull day.

It is the one Dorothea made for you to wear to her wedding (your sister excitedly sent you a letter moons before her wedding with a sample of the fabric she had found in one of the shops in Riverrun that she knew became your favorite color ever since you were ten and two), it is the one you spent wearing most your days while at King’s Landing, and it is the one you were wearing when your prince kissed you that one last time before you had to leave his side –

“Ah… Lord Jeremy’s favorite,” Alys says with a knowing smirk.

Your face flushes because you cannot even deny it. Whenever you wore the violet dress, the timidness in your Lord Husband disappears, replaced with longing desire.

Both Dorothea and Alys had told you before about how Jeremy had been smitten with you ever since the two of you met at Dorothea and Tobias’ wedding in Riverrun all those years ago. The latter of the two told you how the young Strong man came back to Harrenhal after the wedding and talked her ear off for hours about you – when all you had done at the wedding was accidentally made it known that you did not like the dish Jeremy made for the feast and stepped on his toes a few too many times when your mother forced you to dance with him.

At least he is a far better cook now, and you are a better dancer as well.

“You’ve not bled yet this moon, right, my Lady?” Alys asks suddenly.

You shake your head as you stand to move by her side. “I’ve not, but I think my cycle is just irregular.”

Alys hums knowingly with a frown. As your only confidant in Harrenhal, Alys knows that although you and your husband share the same bed every night, it does not mean the two of you have consummated the marriage.

“I overheard Ser Simon talking to Maester Fishl last night, my Lady,” Alys starts, already clearly frustrated at her own mention of the two elderly men, “He wants to know why you are not with child yet… He wants the maester to check up on you,” she then takes your hands in hers, fury in her tone and dark eyes, “I do not like the thought of these horrid men poking and prodding at your body, my Lady. Tell Lord Jeremy to waste his seed in a cup. Bring it to me and I’ll find a way for it to take in your womb without him having to touch you.”

You give her a watery smile, so touched at your lady-in-waiting’s care for you. Squeezing her hand, you tell her, “That won’t be necessary, my sweet Alys. The reason I have not lain with my husband is not because I find him to be grotesque... Actually… I find him quite the opposite… He is handsome and loving and not at all like the other men in his family. But I just needed time to…” Your head shakes, laughing to yourself, “Just… time.”

Alys sighs, nodding in acceptance. “If you say so, my Lady. But I hope you know, my offer will forever stand.”

“I know,” you murmur softly with a smile. “Thank you, Alys.”

Then you wrap your arms around her in a tender hug.

---

You spend the rest of your day helping the castle servants in any way you can. Although you are a Lady of a vassal House, you did not have the same luxuries as the Lords and Ladies of House Strong. You grew up doing your own chores, cleaning up after yourself, and helping with other duties around Mormont Keep. So you do the same in Harrenhal, finding comfort in the little things.

You help the kitchen staff prep for supper. You wash, sew, and repair clothes with the maids. You tend to the horses with the stable boys. Then finally, after sitting in while the septa teach the children, you turn the common room into an art class, with an easel for all the youngins present – it is your favorite part of your day.

As you float around the room to give each child your attention, there is an ache in your heart. You miss your nieces and nephews so wholly. From Jeor and his little sister, Marjorie, on Bear Island – looking more and more like Braeden every day – to Dorothea’s twins, Talis and Lyanna – a perfect copy of her and Forrest, just with Tully clear blue eyes.

It also has you desperately longing for one or two – or five , like your mother had – of your own in the future.

You used to dream of a babe with silver hair and amethyst eyes. But now you will not mind one bit for one with brown hair and honeyed eyes as warm as the summer sun.

The man with those same eyes meets you by the doors of the small hall later for supper, his gaze hungrily taking you in your violet dress with a hard swallow.

“How did the hunt go?” You ask, taking his arm extended towards you.

“Your brother will be sick of rabbit stew once he leaves Harrenhal,” Jeremy answers with a coy grin as he leads you inside the small hall.

“That is quite an ambitious feat, my Lord Strong,” you tease as he pulls back a chair for you to sit on.

“And it is an ambitious feat I dare to take on. For my brother-in-law’s happiness is also my lovely wife’s happiness, my Lady Strong,” he says when he sits beside you, taking your hand to place a dainty kiss on your knuckles.

Because of that, there is a flutter in your stomach that stays there while the men of House Strong drone on about politics and other things that do not interest you during supper. You always try to pay a little bit of attention but your thoughts always drift you away. You only get snapped out of your reverie of seeing Dorothea and her twins and Jorah again soon when the castellan of House Strong and temporary Head of the House in the stead of Lord Larys Strong still at King’s Landing, Simon Strong, says your name.

You turn to your husband’s grandfather, letting him know you have his attention now with a slight lean in his direction at the head of the table.

“There will no longer be time for the juvenile art classes you’ve been holding, today was the last. We need the boys to spend more time training and the girls learning more useful pastimes,” Ser Simon commands gruffly.

Unable to stop yourself, you glare back. “They’re children, Ser Simon.”

The oldest child in the group is a boy of only seven years.

Ser Simon huffs out roughly. “Do tell me, my Lady. But don’t they train even the women to fight on Bear Island?”

“Yes, but we have wildlings and Ironmen landing on our shores, trying to pillage our home. But that’s—”

“And now we have two dragons fighting for a throne, dragging everyone in the Seven Kingdoms into their war – that includes women and children, if your mind can wrap around that, my Lady,” he interrupts you. Hidden from view, your fists clench on your lap at the way you are being talked down to like you are just a child.

Then you feel a soft touch, a warm hand over your fist, comforting in every way. When you glance at your husband, his fierce glare is on his grandfather. “I will see to it that the boys spend more time on the training field, grandfather. But they will also continue their painting lessons with my wife once a week. Just because a war is coming, it does not mean we should take the children’s joy away along with their precious youth.”

“My Talia loves her painting lessons with her aunt,” Ser Sean, Jeremy’s older brother, pipes up. Then he turns to the girl of just 6 beside him. “Don’t you, honey?”

From across the table, Talia nods excitedly before she beams brightly at you. Your heart melts at the sight.

Ser Simon huffs again, but relents. “Fine. But if I find the children lacking in their training then it will be done for good.”

You and Jeremy both thank him, before you turn to your husband, a small and appreciative thank you on your lips. His hand closes tighter around yours as he smiles warmly back.

---

After supper, Jeremy walks you to the southern parts of the castle, to a room far from the bedchamber you share with him but one that you spend the most of your time in since arriving in Harrenhal. Jeremy drops you off with a kiss on your cheek, leaving you to enter by yourself, knowing you like your time alone sometimes.

As soon as you walk in, you are hit with the precious scent of chamomile and pine — reminding you of both your mother and father. Instantly, you feel as though you are at home, which was the exact reason why Jeremy gifted you this room.

In your first few weeks at Harrenhal, you were visibly very miserable although you tried your hardest not to be. But the walls are too cold and depressing, even colder than Bear Island, for the walls of your home had the warmth of wood and the sound of laughter drifting out of every room. So Jeremy found the room in the castle with the largest window – a fault in the build, but now your blessing in disguise – that the sun actually shines in when it appears sometime when the skies are cloudless. Then he built wooden shelves that now line all the walls, hiding the stone behind it to appear more like the rooms back home. Now they hold all your favorite things – like gifts from your family, the books you love to read, and material for your crafts.

It is one of the most thoughtful and loving gifts you have ever received, and you cherish your husband for it so much.

As you close the door behind, you see that Alys had already been in and lit up the lamps and kindled the fireplace for you to spend the rest of your evening in here before heading to bed. She had also watered and tended the plants that bring life to the small room, her knowledge and green thumb far better than yours.

You cross the room to sit at your desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and the golden writing quill that your first love had given to you. And once again, like every night since you arrived back home on Bear Island after the Targaryen sibling’s wedding, you write to him — just like you had promised him you would.

The only time you had stopped was just this past week, for you had received some news from both your eldest brothers that was quite hard to digest.

It was Braeden’s raven scroll that came first:

To my dearest Little Cub, I truly don’t know how to tell you this news, so I’ll just come out with it. Prince Aemond came tonight looking for you — looking like a wild man that I’ve never seen before. He did not give me the chance to ask or get an answer for anything else, for once he heard where you were, he stormed out and flew away on Vhagar. I’m so terribly sorry I did not do more, and I hope my inaction does not cause your heart more pain and confusion. Yours always and forever, Braeden

And then Forrest’s came two days after, a letter filled with angry scratches of thoughts unable to come out properly:

He’s gone. Luke is gone. I promised to protect him but he’s just gone, Little Cub. What kind of knight am I if I cannot even protect the young boy who reminds me so much of our brother. I just keep picturing Jorah dying that terrible death… Sister… They say it was Prince Aemond and Vhagar that took the life of Lucerys and Arrex. How can he do this? What the hell happened to the boy we grew up with? I know you do not know the answer since he has made himself scarce in your life and ours but still… Luke did not deserve this. I saw him swear on his life in front of his mother and under the Eyes of the Seven that he will not partake in any fighting. And I know that little boy like he is my own little brother, and I know he did not break his word. Whatever happened, it is the fault of Aemond, and Aemond alone.

You could feel your brother’s pain emitting from every word he had written. You wept alone in the same room you are in now for the boy you had only met once before. His young, cherubic face and sweet pleasantries to Princess Helaena burning in your mind.

When you first read Forrest’s letter, the hopefulness you felt from Braeden’s news quickly evaporated. You were so distraught, you could not believe it. Unlike your Septa Earla’s tales about Prince Aemond when you were younger, these ones are more unbelievable. A kinslayer. Aemond is now a kinslayer. How much has he changed in the last 4 years, 5 month, and 8 days since you last saw him that he has become someone who can take the life of his young nephew?

How could he be so different from the one you once knew, your best friend, the first and only man you have ever loved?

You have always been optimistic, and you know in your heart that whatever it was that caused Aemond to stop writing to you was not his fault. That it was something else keeping him from you. Perhaps he was even doing it to protect you. You just hoped he has read your and knows you are always thinking of him.

But with all that has unfolded, you are certain he did not get any of your letters – even the ones you sent while you were at Riverrun and in Harrenhal. Which could only mean that someone had been tampering your communication with your prince.

Can you be that high on yourself to think that your love could have prevented all this from happening?

You are not sure, but what you are sure of is that now you think you are in a better headspace to write to your first love again, ready to lay your heart out on paper once more.

You write that you want to ease the pain and burden he has suffered throughout the years, knowing there is probably plenty for him to do something so terrible. You wish you could have been there for him during the death of his father, the way you were there for your husband when his father died just a few moons ago. You wish you could have celebrated all your name days together, for every last one you had the past four years, something was missing. You write that you still want him in your life. Perhaps not as his lover, but just as his best friend once again…

With all that said, what you write to end the letter was:

But I think it’s time to let you go, my prince.

You did not even realize you had been crying until you taste the salt on your lips. After wiping the tears, you fold the letter up and seal it with wax, stamping it with the House Strong coat of arms instead of the Mormont sigil.

You stand then, letter in hand, walking to the hearth of the fire.

Just as you are about to throw the letter in, gone into the flames and unanswered like all the others you had written —- something stops you.

You want to keep it, the last letter that you poured out your feelings on. It is important to you, so you want to keep it as a reminder.

On one of the shelves, you pull out a heavy book and slip it in between the pages.

Shutting it, you stare at the cover with your heart aching at a memory. With your fingers, you trace the title… It is your prince’s favorite book, so it is the perfect place for keeping your last words for him.

Smiling sadly, you shelve the book back in its place. Then with one last look around the room, knowing you will not be spending as much time in there like you had before, you walk out the door.

Jeremy is already comfortably in bed with just a sleeping shirt and smallclothes on when you slip into the room.

He places the book down he was reading on the bedside table and stands as soon as he sees you, looking surprised. “Hey, uh… You’re back earlier than usual.”

You give him a small shrug and that sweet, gentle smile of yours. “I think I just missed you, that’s why.”

Jeremy splutters, cheeks and ears turning red, looking like he did not quite catch what you said. It is as if he can’t even fathom you saying that to him. “Wha– uh…?”

Your stomach swoops in regret at the insecure look that flashes on your husband’s face. Was it really that unbelievable?

Though you are kind to your husband, you know you have not been very forthcoming with your feelings. If anything, you have kept him at an arm’s length, always close and yet not close enough — and Jeremy, sweet and docile Jeremy, does not seem to mind at all, just happy for anything he gets from you. You are sure if you asked him to eat out of the palm of your hand, he would. But you are not cruel. At least not in that way. You are just closed off, guarded with your heart – and that is not entirely your fault either. If you could, you’d give Jeremy your everything. You want to — so, so much. But it’s just not that easy.

But now, as you step closer and closer to where he stands frozen in his spot, you want to try .

Once in front of him, you gently push your palm on his chest, coaxing him to sit back down on the bed. You climb on top of him when he does, and his honeyed brown eyes are gazing at you like you are the sun, the moon, and all of the stars.

You look at him just the same.

Then as you thread your fingers through the soft, brown curls at the back of his head, you bend down to finally press your lips against his – for the first time since the two of you said your vows.

Though his hands grip tight onto your hips, Jeremy still parts from you, sadness and more hesitation in those baby browns, “Are you sure.. I know another has your heart…” He bites his bottom lip, downcast, “You still dream of him.”

You cup his face, forcing him to face you and the tender smile on your lips. “No, Jeremy…” you begin, pressing your forehead against his. “This morning when I woke… It was you I was dreaming of.”

Your confession makes him exhale out a breath, hopeful. “Truly?”

You graze the tip of your nose against his as you nod, sharing the air he breathes. “Truly…”

Then it is Jeremy who captures your lips again, desperate and wanting.

And as the two of you take turns stripping the other between hurried kisses; you think that maybe, just maybe, it is possible for you to love someone new.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd #aemond #aemond targaryen

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shinobisandals · 2 days

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AceSan (and SaboSan) soulmates au where ace and sanji have a whirlwind romance in alabasta when they find out they're soulmates Ace and Sanji leave each other the mark of an accepted soulbond as a promise to meet again in the future and to have each other forever. (Think of it functioning like a vivre card + ABO bonding, it can only appear between soulmates)

While they were apart, they would sense each other's presence and feelings through the bond. They would give each other support or a gentle push when the other feels frustrated or lonely.

Ace's mark doesnt quite disappear on Sanji when he dies in Marineford. It burns and burns bright until it fizzles away, faded but still there. And Sanji continues living and training in Momoiro island, and he still unconsciously pushes towards the bond, but no one nudges back, it's basically radio silence—until after Dressrosa when he feels it burn again as if Ace is both saying a sad hello and a goodbye.

After Sabo eats the Flame Flame Fruit, he not only gains it's power but also the feelings, memories, and will of Ace. At first he gets REALLY confused whenever he sees Ace's memories and fantasies of a blond man in all states of undress and, he mistakenly and stupidly thinks Ace was fantasizing about him. The feelings were basically like "blond man, forever, wish alive, takes care of luffy, crocodile, prince, etc". It's dumb and Sabo shouldve realized and connected it that, of course, ace wasnt fantasizing a future where Sabo "didnt die"—forgive him, he saw the Straw Hats and didnt see any blond man around "taking care of luffy", and that the crocodile wasnt a literal crocodile they cooked from the jungles of their childhood.... mild panic aside, Sabo figures it out eventually—Ace had a consummated soul bond with a blond man somewhere close to Luffy, and that soul bond... If he truly wanted it to, could be his. It was as if Ace was saying "you'd love him as much as I did, please take care of him and give him a chance."

Tbc?

#acesan #sabosan #one piece #sanji #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #i really just wrote this bc i wanted the visual of sabo panicking bc he thought ace was fantasizing about him

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fatuismooches · 1 day

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What if reader and Zandik knew eachother when they were lil kids? Like Zandy age... I think the idea of babyttore with a crush is rlly cute 😭

A lot of it depends on when you met Zandik as a kid. If you met him while he was really young (like Zandy age) then you would be able to experience him being a normal, sweet kid for once. But then you would also have to experience him grow into a bitter and hardened child, which you could, unfortunately, do nothing about and only watch him change in front of your eyes but still support him nonetheless. Even though you two spent your childhood together, Dottore does not bring it up much for obvious reasons - although he has cherished memories of you from back, much of it is clouded by the trauma that went through. But he still very much remembers the things he's said and done with you as kids.

The funny part was that you had no idea he had a crush on you as a kid, you thought it developed only in the Akademiya. He would do little things for you but you always thought he was just being a good friend. Dottore makes fun of you for your oblivious nature back then but in return you make fun of him for his crush.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #'babyttore' is such a cute word

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aceghosts · 2 days

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I Know You Feel Lost, But I'm Here To Wander With You

Summary: The week that Rooney’s family died is always the worst week of the year.

Rooney is having a bad week, the anniversary of their family death's looming over them. Luckily, they've got Yorinobu in their corner.

Title comes from Being As An Oceans' Find Our Way.

Rating: M

Warnings: PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS FOR THIS ONE! This deals very explicitly with Rooney's grief and violent loss of their family. (Rooney is originally from Mass Effect with a Colonist background. This fic is adapting that background.) They are in a dark place, and thus, some of Rooney's thoughts, such as not wanting to exist, may be triggering. It also relieves Rooney's memories of that day and the traumatic things they saw, including watching someone die in their arms. Other warnings are depiction of violence, survivor's guilt, childhood trauma, discussions of dysfunctional childhoods (kind of), and drinking to cope. I think that covers everything, but if I need to tag for anything else, let me know.

Words: 5,188 words

Author's Note: Takes place before the events of CP2077, roughly six years before. I strongly encourage you to read Is This the End Or Is This the Beginning if you have not, as this fic directly references events in that fic.

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @sergeiravenov, @voidika,

@carlosoliveiraa, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @derelictheretic, @imogenkol, @theelderhazelnut,

@strangefable, @cassietrn, @direwombat, @cloudofbutterflies92

AO3

The week that Rooney’s family died is always the worst week of the year.

Rooney’s normally unflinching, steady demeanor turns brittle. Their mood is an ever-vicious cycle of grief looping into numbness with static in their brain, which eventually loops back into a grief that threatens to swallow them whole, pulling Rooney beneath its dark depths. Their sleep schedule goes to hell, ghosts haunting their dreams. Even in their waking hours, the ghosts haunt them, always in the corner of their mind. Nothing holds any interest for them, and they’re nauseous all the time, only able to pick at their food. The weight of a broken promise weighs heavily on their shoulders, and Rooney feels like they’re drowning underneath it all, exhausted from fighting the tide. All they want to do is hide in their room underneath blankets until the storm passes, when they finally grasp onto some sense of normality. Most years, Rooney powers through, only taking the day of their family’s death off. Their usual ritual is to spend the day alone, writing unsent letters to the ghosts they carry with them.

Their grief takes on a different form this year, a more malevolent form. It hits harder, a dark, black cloud hanging over them. It’s so hard to breathe, to simply exist. Their limbs are tied down, each movement more difficult than the last. They feel so numb to it all, to the whole point of their existence. All Rooney wants to do is to stop existing, simply dissipate into nothing. They want to let the waves pull them under, to simply stop fighting and give in for once. Rooney wonders if this year is harder because they died and now know death intimately. Maybe, it’s the fact they’re stuck in this Arasaka facility, amongst enemies and isolated from their comrades. Maybe, it’s that small glimpse of what they saw between life and death. Maybe, it’s the fact that they know they will be denied death, doomed to walk this earth as long as someone else demands it. If they died now, Rooney knows Arasaka would pull them back, deny them the dignity of simply being able to die.

And then, there is Yorinobu, Rooney’s only friend in this lonely place. They avoid him, leaving sessions early and ducking into hiding places when he searches for them. He doesn’t need to see Rooney like this, doesn’t have to know about any of this. Rooney doesn’t want him to think less of them, if he doesn’t already know. They need to focus on getting information for him. They need to focus on their mission. And, perhaps selfishly, Rooney does not want Yorinobu to worry about them. No one should have to worry about them. The grief will pass like it always does, and Rooney will be fine...right?

“We’re done, Shepard,” Leah, one of the scientists, says, openly disappointed with their poor performance, a common theme this week, “Go to your next session.” Right, another combat test. Leah had just run through a short test of their quickhacking capabilities. Miles, another scientist, wanted to put Rooney through a combat test with their optical camouflage.

“I will escort them to their next session.” They slowly look over in Yorinobu’s direction, unaware he was there. Arms crossed over his chest, he smiles at them warmly, eyes only on Rooney.

Rooney stares at him blankly, unable to muster even the smallest smile. They should be excited to see Yorinobu, ready to dish out what they know to him. Instead, Rooney feels nothing, hollow, like every other day of this forsaken week. Leah, who must have only realized he was here as well, bows. Shooting a glare at Rooney for their perceived rudeness, she replies, “Yes, Yorinobu-Sama. Shepard would be honored to accompany you.”

Yorinobu’s smile drops, brow furrows in concern as Rooney lethargically walks toward him. Shit, they need to act normally. They fall into step with him as they leave the room, still mute. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Not nearly a convincing enough answer. “Shepard,” He starts, voice soft, “I know you would prefer to talk with one of your fellow soldiers, but I would like to listen if you need someone.”

Rooney feels a lump in their throat, swallowing it down. “I’m okay,” They assure him, gently brushing their hand against his, “I’m just tired.”

He eyes them suspiciously, eventually relenting. “I have some news that you may be interested in. Some of it I can tell you now, the rest later.” As he talks, Rooney tunes him out, his voice becoming background noise like everything else. Their brain is unable to concentrate, thinking sluggishly. Every once in a while, Rooney offers a nod or a small noise of acknowledgment to keep up the appearance they are listening. “Now, I know you must not be listening.”

Shaking their head as they stop in their tracks, Rooney apologizes, “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” Yorinobu stops beside them, placing his hand on their shoulder in concern. Guilt burns within Rooney. He shouldn’t worry about them; no one should. They’ll power through this, just like everyone expects them to.

“I-.”

“Shepard!” Fucking hell, all of the goddamn people it had to be her, Rooney’s least favorite person in the facility. Dr. Naomi Kimura, their psychologist, dredged up every single awful thing mentioned in their psych profile as if it would magically convince Rooney to talk. Instead, Rooney shut down, staring at their hands quietly until their time was up. And this week, she was at her worst, mentioning their family constantly, how hard it must have been, and how Rooney could talk to her. It took every inch of their being to resist punching her, especially when she mentioned Jack. How dare she even mention his name. Rooney prefers dying again to having to talk to Dr. Kimura about one of the worst days of their life. “How are you feeling today, Shepard?” she asks, catching up to the pair.

They look down, staring at their shoes, fists clenched tightly. “I think Shepard is tired,” Yorinobu intervenes, “You should give them space.”

Dr. Kimura sighs. “Yes. Of course, they would be tired,” her pitying voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, and Rooney bites the inside of their cheek, fighting the urge to scream. “I wanted to make sure that my patient was feeling well, especially on the anniversary of something so tragic.”

“Something tragic?” Yorinobu echoes.

“Their family,” They start walking, unable to listen. Rooney won’t give her the satisfaction of them telling her to shove it. And they don’t know if they can stomach Yorinobu looking at them like…like…

“Excuse us, Dr. Kimura.” Yorinobu excuses himself, catching up to Rooney. “Where are you going? What is goi-?”

“I should go,” Rooney cuts him off, their voice robotic and detached, leaving a confused Yorinobu behind.

—

Later that evening, when Rooney reaches their room after an afternoon of tests, Yorinobu stands outside their room. In his hands, he has a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Would you like to talk? Or drink?” Yorinobu holds the bottle of whiskey up for Rooney. They soften, recognizing the name on the bottle. It’s the same brand, the one that led to their first real conversation. To Rooney becoming an informant, and eventually, they suppose, a friend. Their eyes water, a sob stuck in their throat. “Did-Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s complicated,” Rooney wipes at their eyes, clearing their throat, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He relaxes, his shoulders dropping. Yet, Yorinobu’s brow is furrowed, watching them carefully. “We should talk,” Rooney says, knowing that they owe Yorinobu the truth, “Can we go to your office?”

He nods, wrapping an arm around their shoulder. Rooney leans into him, resting their head on his shoulder. He feels so sturdy when they are so weak, like a small boat being tossed upon the waves in a storm.

—

Making themselves comfortable on the black leather couch in Yorinobu’s office, each with a glass of whiskey, Rooney takes a sip, needing to work up their courage. “I…um…” they start hesitantly, the words reluctant to leave their mouth.

Yorinobu slides an arm behind them, hand on their shoulder. “Take your time.”

“Right,” Rooney takes another sip, “Do you remember what I told you about my family?”

“You mentioned they died when you were sixteen,” a horrified look comes over him, quickly connecting the dots, “Is this the day they-?”

Rooney nods, confirming his suspicion as Yorinobu takes a sharp breath. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now how they’ve died.” Everyone knows. In the Militia, it was an open secret that being around Rooney was likely to get you killed. Unlucky Shepard. Go with them on a mission, and you won’t come back.

“I have not.” Wait, what? They look over at him in confusion. “I knew you would tell me on your own terms,” Yorinobu admits, “You are honest with me. I can be patient if you need me to be.”

Their guarded heart softens at his admission. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me.”

Silence washes over the both of them as Rooney thinks through their next words. They’re so used to people knowing them by their reputation. The Soldier who got shit done. The Sole Survivor. With Yorinobu, none of those expectations are placed upon them. Rooney is free to be themself. It is an oddly wonderful feeling; it is an oddly terrifying one. “I guess I could start at the beginning…”

He nods, allowing Rooney to continue. “I grew up in a small Biotechnica Company Town. My mom, Hannah Shepard, worked as the head of security.” They remember their mother, a former Militech officer, brave and fearless. Never backing down. “She was really brave, taught me how to shoot my first gun too. Taught me that it would be my responsibility to look after Jack.” From a young age, their mom had taught them how to shoot, simply stating: ONE DAY, YOU’LL NEED TO PROTECT YOUR BROTHER. A duty that Rooney solemnly took. A duty they failed. “My dad, Aiden Shepard, was an agricultural engineer. He was so kind, always encouraging my brother and me.” Rooney always remembers their dad as a soft, kind man. He had a green thumb, teaching Rooney all he knew about plants and farming. Their favorite memories of him are sitting with their dad on the porch bench on summer evenings, both reading together in silence, yet enjoying each other’s company.

“I had a younger brother, Jack, and a cousin, Danny, my age. Jack was so bright and so sweet. Didn’t have a mean bone in his body. I’m sure if he were still alive, he would have done something great.” In their mind, Jack smiles brightly at them, fiddling with some machine he was working on. His enthusiasm was infectious. Jack deserved to be alive; he should be alive. Not Rooney. “Danny was always getting into trouble, but it was trouble I always wanted to be a part of.” They remember the way he would grin mischievously, ready to drag Rooney and Jack into some of his schemes. Despite the trouble the trio would get into, Rooney wouldn’t trade any of those memories for the world.

“Home was gorgeous.” Rooney still feels the sun on their face, the warm breeze flowing through their hair. They hear the rustle of the wheat as the breeze flows through it. “The skies were always a soft blue with a gentle breeze blowing through the wheat. It was like paradise.” How naive Rooney was. They should have appreciated it more, enjoyed what little time they had there. Now, home was a memory, a place they could never return to.

"I…understand.” His soft utterance surprises them. Yorinobu sips his whiskey. “When I think of my childhood, I think about how wonderful it was sometimes, how happy I used to be…”

“How you wish you could go back,” They finish, “But you can’t, you can never go back.”

“Yes,” the understanding look in his eyes makes Rooney feel a little less lonely, “After what my father had shown me, the veil over my eyes had been lifted. It was a lie, a lie to make me complacent, dependent. He used that lie to mold me into the son he thought I should be. Obedient, Deferential. He had destroyed the home I had known. Your situation is different.”

Rooney sips their whiskey. “Yeah,” their voice cracks, “Home doesn’t exist anymore, wiped off the map, all the people gone.” They pause, their throat tight. “Except for me.” Cursed to live; cursed to survive.

“Shepard,” His thumb rubs comfortingly against the bare skin of their freckled shoulder, “You do not have to tell me this. I will respect-.”

“No, I want to,” They cut him off, inhaling a deep breath, “It’s a little raw considering…”

“I do not want to push if it makes you feel unwell.”

“You’re not pushing; you’re the first one who hasn’t pushed me to talk about this,” Their mind flashes back to Dr. Kimura, always pushing and prodding, “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“I am glad I can be here for you.”

Rooney gives him a watery smile, dropping it a second later. “The first thing I remember about this day is the night before, especially the fight that I had with my mom.” Yorinobu raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “We were fighting a lot. I wanted to join a Corp, Militech specifically, to see the world, and she thought I was naive, that I was going to make a huge mistake.”

“Militech?” Yorinobu blurts out, surprised.

They nod. “Imagine how differently things would have turned out if I still joined Militech afterwards.”

“We would not have met.”

“Yeah, I know how Militech and Arasaka feel about each other.” Rooney looks down at their whiskey glass. “I can’t forget what I told my mom that night. I told her that hated her.” I HATE YOU SO MUCH, the awful words reverberate around in their head. “I told her that I hated her for trying to keep me in that stupid town, that I wasn’t going to be stuck there forever, miserable like she was.” YOU CAN’T KEEP ME HERE. I WON’T BE STUCK HERE IN THIS TOWN AND END UP A MISERABLE BITCH LIKE YOU. Their hands shake, tears welling in their eyes. Rooney would give anything to take those words back, to reverse the hands of time, and tell their mom one last time that they love her. They love her so much. Rooney would tell her that they were naive and stupid, understanding what Hannah was trying to protect them from. “What a pair we make, huh? You with Saburo, and me with my mom.”

Yorinobu smiles. “It is natural for children to rebel, to want differently than the path their parents planned for them. You are not wrong for wanting that.”

“I suppose so.” Rooney isn’t sure if they were wrong for wanting, but they should have spoken to their mom differently. “The next day, a group of bandits attacked our town. I’m not sure how they managed it. We fended off attacks before with little damage, but this was different.” It was slaughter, an act of cruel and senseless violence. “Jack, Danny, and I were hanging out in the fields. We were up in an oak tree, watching the clouds as we talked. Then, we saw the smoke. We went to check it out.” Rooney still remembers the tree bark scraping against their palms, barely registering the sting as they fling themself from the tree. “We met Mom at the edge of the field. She handed me a pistol and told me to protect Jack and Danny. The last thing she ever told me was for us to hide and for me to be brave.” ROONEY, TAKE THEM AND HIDE. BE BRAVE FOR ME. The last time Rooney sees their mom is with her back turned to the three as she charges into town, red ponytail with strands of gray swinging in the wind. The pistol is heavy in Rooney’s hands, the full burden of responsibility weighing down on them. “Do you ever feel like you have to protect Hanako?”

“Yes. As children, Hanako and I were close. We only had each other, and I knew I needed to be there for her. I would protect her from any trouble. Even now, as adults, despite our distance, I still want to protect her, free her from my father’s influence. Hanako should be allowed to determine her own path, not a puppet of my father.” Yorinobu takes a sip of his whiskey, conflicting emotions on his face. “Now, Hanako feels she must protect me by playing mediator. In her eyes, all would be right if I became the son my father wanted me to be. If I were to be someone else.”

“You shouldn’t be,” He raises an eyebrow as they awkwardly clarify, “You shouldn’t have to be someone else. I like you as you are.” Yorinobu looks taken aback as they backpedal, “I mean-.”

“Shepard, I understand,” Yorinobu replies cutting them off, “I like you as you are too.”

“Thank you.” Another question comes to them. “What about Kei?” In all their time at the facility, Rooney heard about Kei the least. Possibly because he had been dead since 2023. But they wondered about Yorinobu and his relationship.

“Kei and I were not close. As children, Hanako and I rarely saw him, a distant figure in both our lives. Kei always thought of himself as the dutiful older son, the protector of Arasaka’s legacy. When I left,” Yorinobu’s voice turns bitter, “He saw it as his responsibility to strike me down for daring to defy the family, for not falling into line. Kei paid the ultimate price for his foolishness. I stand, still alive, while he is dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yorinobu shakes his head. “It is not your fault. One day, my father will pay for Kei’s death. Continue.”

“I suggested that we should hide. There was a storm shelter beneath the farmhouse where no one would be able to find us. But-.” I CAN’T LEAVE MY MOM AND DAD. WE HAVE TO FIND THEM. They remember how terrified Danny looked, a sixteen-year-old who just wanted his parents. “Danny wanted us to find his parents. He wouldn’t listen to me or Jack.” Danny’s glare is fierce, and he is defiant at Rooney’s suggestion. He storms away with Jack quickly following behind as he tries to calm Danny. “He couldn’t be stopped.” Rooney finishes their glass, reaching out for the bottle of whiskey, and pouring another.

“So, we head to town.” The moment the three teenagers reach town, they all look at each other, knowing they’ve fucked up. Rooney remembers the thick smell of smoke and dead bodies, nearly choking on it. They hold the pistol with the safety off, ready to fire like their mom taught them to. Yet, at the thought of shooting a real person, Rooney’s hands shake, the pistol wobbling. “Danny thought we needed to head to the center of town.” COME ON, MY PARENTS SHOULD BE AT THE CITY HALL. “I try to argue with him, but he takes off running and rounds the corner. And then, I hear it.”

Yorinobu’s mouth drops in horror as a sick feeling rises in their stomach. The gunshots echo in their ears, deafening, as Rooney sprints towards the alley. Danny is on the ground, red pooling beneath him as a bandit stands over him. Rooney raises the pistol, pulling the trigger. The first shot hits the bandit’s shoulder. The second one hits him in the chest. Later, when Rooney learns to shoot a sniper rifle in the militia, they promise to never miss, to always make sure that their bullet hits the target. They will not let another innocent pay with their life. Rooney sips their glass, before continuing, “Jack and I grab Danny,” Danny’s green t-shirt is soaked in blood, only groaning as the two pull him off the ground, “The local town doctor is only two blocks away. If anyone can help Danny, it’s her.” It is only later that Rooney will find out that this was a fool’s errand, that the local doctor is already dead.

“Jack and I manage to get Danny to the clinic. We think we’ve made it, that the three of us are going to be safe.” It feels like a journey of a thousand miles, but relief washes over Rooney as the clinic door slides open. They’re safe; Jack, Danny, and Rooney are going to make it. HEY! Rooney turns as a Bandit turns to face them, raising his rifle at the trio. “As we enter the clinic, another bandit finds us.” Rooney raises the gun, preparing to fire. Jack, blue eyes wide, shoves Rooney and Danny through the doorway. JACK! Shots ring out, deafening as Rooney screams, a desperate plea for someone, anyone, to help. Jack slumps to the ground as Rooney lets Danny go. They raise their pistol, flicking the safety off as they unload the pistol. Rooney empties the pistol into the bandit, each shot ringing loudly in their ears. When the pistol finally clicks empty, long after the bandit has fallen to the ground, Rooney drops it, the pistol clattering loudly to the ground. “He shoots Jack. I’m able to stop the bandit, but it’s already too late.”

“I grab Jack and Danny, dragging them into the clinic. I find an empty room, somewhere we can hide.” Grabbing Jack and Danny, Rooney pulls them into the clinic, a herculean effort fueled by pure adrenaline. They find an empty room, hiding with Jack and Danny in a dark corner. Danny’s eyes are unfocused, his mouth slightly open. Rooney doesn’t need to feel his pulse to know that he is dead. They turn to Jack, who reaches out for his older sibling. “Jack grabs onto me. I beg for him to let me go, but all he wants is his older sibling. His grip loosens…” He wraps his arms around Rooney’s neck tightly, clinging to them as he bleeds out in their arms. Rooney holds him, alternating between telling Jack that they love him (JACK, I LOVE YOU! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!) and begging him to let go so they can help him (YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO! I’LL BE RIGHT BACK WITH HELP!). Eventually, his grip loosens, Rooney silently sobbing as their brother dies. In the Unification War, when they hold dying young men, trying to comfort them in their last moments, they will always remind Rooney of Jack. They will always be Jack, terrified in their final moments, begging for some sort of comfort, that everything will be okay. “And my brother is dead.”

Tears stream down their face as Rooney grips their whiskey tightly. “I hide in the clinic for what seems like an eternity.” They wait until the screaming dies down, and even then, Rooney doesn’t leave, afraid the bandits will be waiting for them. After the screaming has been dead for a long time, Rooney makes their way out of the clinic, looking upon the destruction of their town. Every corpse is a familiar face, someone they’ve known their whole life. “Eventually, Nomads, who regularly traded with us and did odd jobs for Biotechnica, pass by, and…” Well, the rest is history.

“Rooney, I’m-I’m so sorry…” Yorinobu seems to be at a loss for words, unsurprising. No one ever seems to know what to say, and Rooney can’t blame them.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” They finish off the glass, pouring themself another. Yorinobu tilts his head in confusion, perhaps concerned by their harsh, detached tone. “It’s the bandits fault for destroying my town. It’s my fault that Jack and Danny are dead, that I couldn’t protect them.”

Yorinobu sits straight up, removing his hand from their shoulder. Rooney misses his touch, a sole comfort, perhaps more than they deserve. He places his glass down on the table. Yorinobu grabs their glass, placing it down beside his. Rooney doesn’t fight him, unable to look at him, only looking down at their hands. Yorinobu takes their hands in his, his touch desperate. “You cannot blame yourself. You were sixteen.”

“I can blame myself,” They look at him, meeting his eyes, “It was my job to protect Jack. He’s my younger brother. He needed me, and I failed him. Danny, too.” After their town, Rooney swore that they would protect others from suffering the same fate.

He looks slightly horrified, and Rooney wonders if he is thinking of himself and Hanako, perhaps seeing a mirror image of Jack in Hanako. Yorinobu releases their hands, only to cup their face, wiping away the tears. “It was not your fault.” He stresses every word, like a general giving a command to a stubborn soldier. On some level, Rooney knows this is irrational. Their psych in the militia, a no-nonsense woman whom Rooney felt safe talking to, used to tell them the same thing. So did their fellow soldiers in their support group. But Rooney couldn’t let it go, not when it had driven them their whole life. Not when their family had rejected them for it. Their tears fall faster, a sob escaping from them as Yorinobu’s eyes widen in surprise. “Something else troubles you.”

“Yeah.”

“Please tell me.”

“Remember our first conversation, when I told you to leave something alone?”

Confusion briefly crosses his face before the realization dawns. “You looked upset when I asked,” They hear a touch of concern in his voice, “Did it involve your family?”

“Yes,” the vision of their family around the dining room table is startlingly clear in their mind, “I saw my family.”

“You…saw them?”

“Don’t know what it was. Might have been a hallucination; might have been my mind playing a trick on me, but I saw them.” Rooney’s voice trembles, “I got to go home, see them all again, and they...they…” Their throat tightens, the words too difficult to speak. “They wouldn’t let me stay.”

“Rooney,” Yorinobu exhales their name, distraught as he wipes away more tears.

“I failed to protect Jack and Danny, and I wasn’t allowed to come home,” Rooney swallows back a sob, “I wasn’t good enough so I couldn’t stay.”

Yorinobu lets go of their face, pulling Rooney into his lap. They straddle his waist, trying to openly sob as they lay their hands on his chest. “Rooney,” His right hand lays on the back of their neck, “You did not fail. You were sixteen. No one could have asked more of you.” Rooney doesn’t believe him; they don’t know if they ever will. This guilt will gnaw at Rooney for the rest of their life until they take their final breath. If Rooney is ever allowed to take one. “Believe me,” Yorinobu pleads sincerely, “Please.”

Yorinobu’s earnestness cracks the stone walls around their heart. They collapse into his chest, burying their face in the crook of his neck. Rooney tightly grips the fabric of his black and magenta silk shirt, holding onto him like an overboard passenger holds onto a raft, adrift in the ocean. A sob escapes them, and Yorinobu’s hand comes to their back, rubbing circles in the black fabric of their tank top. His other hand rests on their thigh, thumb stroking along the seam of the black fabric. “If you need to, cry.”

They can’t fully break down, not for a lack of trying. Instead, Rooney holds him tightly, crying softly as Yorinobu comforts them. His voice is soothing, a tether to reality for them.

—

Eventually, Rooney finds they have no more tears left to cry. They’re exhausted, worn down to the bone. “Thank you.” Their voice feels raw and scratchy, their throat tight.

“Do you feel better?” He asks, watching them with concern. “Please be honest with me.”

Honesty is the least of what he deserves; Yorinobu deserves so much from them. “No,” They’re not sure if they will ever be okay, “I don’t know if I will be, but you being here….”

Yorinobu releases the breath he was holding. “Do you need-?”

They shake their head. “I just want to sleep.”

“Allow me to take you to your room.” Rooney gets up off his lap, untangling themself from Yorinobu. He follows them off the couch, slinging an arm around their shoulder.

They slide their arm around his waist, resting their head on his shoulder. Together, the pair walk silently down the Arasaka halls alone. Rooney feels a swell of affection towards him. There was no reason for him to be this kind to them, and yet…he was. Perhaps Rooney and Yorinobu were kindred souls, both alone in a hostile place looking for someone who would see them as they are.

When the pair reaches Rooney’s room, Yorinobu asks, “Will you be fine if you are left alone tonight?” Maybe. Rooney isn’t going to hurt themself, but the nightmares worry them. Sometimes, they relive the scenes over and over, a gruesome horror movie on repeat. Their silence is enough to answer his question. “I am staying.”

Rooney frowns. “You don’t need to stay.” They won’t be more of a burden on him.

“I want to stay with you,” Yorinobu opens the door, “Please let me.”

A small spark of humor arises in them. “I didn’t know you were eager to get into my bed.”

Yorinobu laughs, slightly surprised. “You must be feeling better.”

“Somewhat,” They smile at him shyly, “Thanks to you.”

He looks smug, clearly proud of himself. “To bed.”

A few minutes later, the duo crawl into bed with Rooney on the right and Yorinobu on the left. The tiny bed is meant for one person, but Rooney and Yorinobu make it work, spooning close together. Rooney’s metal arm wraps around his chest, Yorinobu’s hand resting on top of their hand. They are pressed tight against his back, cuddling him. “Are you comfortable?” He asks, his tone a little unsure. “Would you prefer I hold you?”

“No. I feel better holding you, unless you want to change positions.”

“I like this,” Yorinobu replies softly, his voice sending a warm and tingly feeling through them.

“Good.” The darkness and silence of the room descend upon them. A short while later, as they doze off, Rooney hears a soft snore from Yorinobu. They bite back a soft laugh, striking them as slightly cute. Rooney whispers, careful not to wake him, “Thank you for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you today. It’s the first time I haven’t felt alone on this day. I don’t know if I can ever return the favor.” They pause briefly. “But I promise I will try to be there for you in any way you need me to be.”

Closing their eyes, Rooney allows themself to fall asleep, comfortable and safe with Yorinobu in their arms.

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