#would have fought tooth and nail to fix any one of these

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

What are six Supercorp arcs from the series you wish the show would’ve expanded on or just done in a different way? And how would you have written them?

Hm. 6 is a lot of arcs. But I'll give it a stab...

1) Cadmus. Ive always felt that they were built up more than they followed up with. I would have loved for them to be a big bad, rather than a b-plot bad. With Lena playing a big part in taking them down.

2) Lex. How the show handled Lex was such bullshit. Even before Supergirl became the Lex Luthor show, the writers' biggest mistake was making him a villain for Kara rather than allowing him to remain Lena's villain. Because that's what he always should have been.

3) Rift. I think I've talked this one about half to death, so I probably don't have to go into anymore detail, but yeah. They went kind of screwy with Lena's reaction and her Non Nocere angle, where I think it would have been more impactful if they had kept the fallout more emotional and internal to Kara and Lena as characters. Like, it should have been the undercurrent of the season, not the catalyst for someone going evil.

4) Crisis. This one is easy-- keep Lex dead and not merge/rewrite the realities. The continuity was absolutely ruined by Crisis and I'll never forgive them.

5) Children of Liberty. I feel like this one was disappointing because they took a very real and valid issue and turned it sideways to mimic current events. The writers tried to loop Guardian into the plot there, and ultimately failed to make the angle engaging whatsoever.

6) Red Daughter. There was no fallout for this one. Kara absorbed Red Daughter and absolutely nothing came of it. She didn't change, in either personality or abilities. So what was the point? Idk. I think they could have utilized Red Daughter in a more meaningful way while she was alive too. I would have liked her to have room to grow as a person, rather than being treated as a prop to support Lex's plans of world domination. Maybe let her interact with Lena more. Maybe let her have doubts in Lex and start breaking away from him even before she learns the whole truth about him. Let more of Kara's personality/identity emerge to shift her allegiance to the side of good, and let her disagree with Lex's methods, if not his purpose.

----

This being said however, I don't think there's been a single arc since S2 that I've 100% been okay with, that I don't think I couldn't have done better. That might be a little egocentric of me, but it's the truth. I'm really good at seeing an idea and immediately expanding on it to suit my likes and dislikes to create content I wanna see-- canon be damned.

[lilspooky-doll]

True Happiness — pt. 2

pairing — Aegon II Targaryen x Handmaid! Reader

summary — All Prince Aegon wanted growing up with the parents he had was to experience true happiness; not happiness from drinking, not happiness from inflicting insults against others but real happiness you can only experience with someone you feel deeply for. Even at a very early age, he believed he was going to end up drunk and worse than his absentee father until she came along to clean up the pieces.

themes — canon targcest, fluff, aegon is a soft boi, language, blood descriptions, eventual smut (p in v, slight choking, breeding kink, oral (f receiving), not the best descriptions of smut), possessive! aegon, alicent using others to fix her problems, brief child abuse, brat! aegon, au! aegon (he's not a shithead), au! house of the dragon, female! reader, happy ending (for aegon at least), mentions of pregnancy, children (warning enough for that), aemond x heleana,

author’s note — here’s pt. 2 for you all! i will warn you that this is my first time writing any kind of spicy scene/smut so please be gentle with me on any criticisms. this is the end but i have some small imagines & headcanons planned out for this universe. i have a bunch of wholesome shit for this universe to make up for the fact that i have plans for a dark!fic for aegon. anyways, enjoy!

Ever since the incident in the Godswood, it seemed that the Targaryen prince and his handmaid were closer than ever. Before, there were times when one would see the maid going about her chores or see her chatting with Heleana when Aegon would drag her to the courtyard to relax between lessons with them. Now, everyone could see the prince following his maid everywhere. Whenever she was in the room, one could see his eyes drift away from his task at hand to watch her figure move away from him.

Every free moment he had, they were always together and some have seen him give delicate kisses on her maid when they parted ways or she would give a peck on the Targaryen’s blushing cheek. To the gossiping few — those few consisted of virtually everyone within the castle walls — there were talks that the young prince was in love with his handmaiden and that he was stopping the Queen from betrothing him to his dear sister in the odd way Targaryens tend to do. They were rumors but it appeared that all rumors pertaining to the eldest prince rang true.

Yes, the young couple were in love in a way where it was pure and not tainted by the impurities that lived around them. Yes, the prince has fought tooth and nail with the Queen over the betrothal to the point that Alicent saw an ugly side of her son making her immediately change the betrothal from him to her second son, Aemond. It frightened the Queen how determined Aegon was to remain free from that particular duty of his and how fervent he was in making sure Aemond and Heleana were the ones to be betrothed to each other.

Somehow, during their arguments, he was even able to negotiate for his maid to be removed from the servant quarters and be moved into the room adjoined to his chambers. In all of their scuffling, Alicent didn’t even realize she had agreed to his terms until she witnessed that victorious smirk on his pale face. It terrified her as that smirk resembled her father’s when the plan he worked out was going the way he desired for it. She felt a terrible ache in his stomach like it was a deep foreboding sense that something was going to go wrong whether that was in the present or in the distant future. But, she only hoped that everything would go the way her father planned and that Aegon’s obsession with his maid would die out as an innate curiosity.

Within a day of the Queen’s agreement, the prince had — politely — asked the servants to help his dear maid bring her things out of the quarters and into the room beside his. It all worked out spectacularly seeing as his room wasn’t like the apartment that Rhaenyra used to have when she lived in the castle but it still had an attached room that gave both of them easy access to see one another.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The days were lonely for the young couple as the royal family departed to Driftmark for the funeral services of Laena Velaryon. Aegon, of course, had to follow his family as part of their duties to wish the dragonrider a safe return to the sea while she had to stay at the Red Keep on the orders of the Queen to attend to more than just Aegon’s chambers. She had been ordered to maintain all three of the Targaryen children’s chambers whilst they were away and to remain occupied if her tasks were completed.

When the order was given, the prince was agitated — more of anger than anything else — as his mother wanted them to be apart. Aegon wouldn’t admit it but he was scared to be away from his love. This would be the first time they would be apart for days and he was worried something would happen while he was gone. Indeed, he was angered and worried but she became the levelheaded one as she reassured him that all will not disappear while he was away from their chambers. It was simply a short trip to pay his respects not long before having to go on a journey back to King’s Landing.

For the teen of three and ten, this trip was turning out to be a disaster. Just a mere hour ago, he witnessed his mother and his elder sister fight over their children. The Velaryon children attacked the second Targaryen son of Viserys and he paid the price of losing an eye in exchange for claiming Vhagar for himself. Of course, during the war of words between the women, Aemond accused Aegon of being the one to tell him of his nephews being bastards. This had stunned him as he had stopped picking on his brother for not having a dragon and quietly tried to support him without him noticing the little things Aegon did for him. So being accused of this and being smacked for it angered something deep inside of him feeling the burning flames flicker within.

It was a petty thing for his dear brother to do but for his mother to just take his word and punish him for it, that was the simmering coals that Aemond’s flames fluttered upon. Aegon hadn’t felt this kind of anger since that fateful day his lovely maid had been assigned to him and he wasn’t going to allow this to be brushed aside. No, he was going to make things go his way for once and remove himself from the equation in this game.

An abrupt knock disturbed him from his sulking in his guest chambers. Taking a second, he called for the person to enter and in came his mother, still flustered from going after Rhaenyra and their ongoing battle that seems to have been around since before he was born. Making her way into his chambers, Alicent smooths out the front part of the skirt of her green dress before locking her sights onto the hunched teen on his bed whose hands were occupied by a chalice.

“What brings you here, mother?” Aegon snarked out unwillingly to look in her direction, his cheek blazen red with a bold handprint.

A soft huff escaped the Queen at the hostility her eldest son was openly displaying. “There is no reason for you to spread such rumors about your nephews. Your brother has lost his eye because he has spilled the lies you have fed him.” Alicent paused, taking a calming breath before continuing on, “Why must you do things like this, Aegon? Why must you instigate already very fragile situations?”

A bark of laughter exuded from the prince after he sipped from his chalice. “Instigate? You believe me to have instigated this all? It’s a mere rumor that doesn’t hold much merit considering there are many people in our line with dark hair much like Rhaenyra’s children. It’s a stupid thing to believe and Aemond was the one to weaponize this, not me! Is it so hard to believe that your precious son could have some faults?”

His vision grew red with pent up rage at the accusations laid against him and obviously, the bit of ale he decided to indulge himself this one time wasn’t helping him in keeping a clear head. If anything, it worsened the loathsome feeling that made the flames burn brighter in his chest. Distracted by the rage deep within, Aegon didn’t notice that his mother had been making her way closer until he could see the edge of the dark skirts shimmering green in the low light fall in front of his booted feet.

Looking up from the stone floors and towards Hightower's face, Aegon could see the boiling anger in her eyes and the pink of her face took over the usual tone it held. Seeing such a quiet reaction from his mother shouldn’t have warranted the sick feeling of victory in him but, oh did it feel good to see her composure fall in such a tense situation. It was a bit scary to see the always calm Queen attack his half-sister but in a setting like this moment, it was a good feeling seeing as she always had everyone else lose themselves first.

“Do you understand how delicate this all is? Your grandsire believes you should be the one to inherit the throne and you’re doing what?” Alicent snatches the chalice from the loose grip Aegon had on it and sniffed the contents of it. “Drinking? In a time like this?! Every time a situation arises and it all goes wrong, you can’t help yourself to the nearest barrel of ale. You are a drunk and I would not be shocked if you turned into your father — absent from everything!”

Red seeped further into his vision as he bolted up glaring at her intensely. “I am NOTHING like him! I have done my duties and I have no desire to rip the throne from Rhaenyra. I am the furthest thing from a drunk but of course, when I decide to indulge myself once in a while, it makes me a drunkard! I will not be badgered by you when I have done more in these past three years than the last ten I had been alive before her!”

Enraged by him standing up to her, Alicent did what she knows best when it comes to her son; smacking him in hopes of rattling him enough to bring him back to sense. The hit decorated the same cheek as before marking it further. Two smacks in the span of a few hours was enough to cause bruising later on and make it known to everyone how Alicent felt about the incident on Driftmark.

“You will correct yourself,” ordered Alicent, making her way out of the chambers. “We leave in the morning and shall be back to King’s Landing within the day.”

A click of the door closing snapped him out of his trance allowing himself to fall back onto his bed. He curled himself up into a ball clutching onto the extra pillow desperately wishing for some comfort from her — a hug, a hand playing with his hair, just something comforting. Tears began to escape from their keep running down his nose and splashing onto the plush downy of the pillow.

All he wanted was to be home with her.

━━━━

It has been a long day preparing for the royal family to return from Lady Laena’s funeral. Every maid and servant has been rushing to make sure everything was where it needed to be and that every detail was perfect. She had been busy attending to the chambers of the King and Queen’s children, cleaning every surface, tidying up and making sure all of their clothes were clean in their respective places.

All of the insects, alive and preserved, were well kept in Princess Heleana’s room. Each living one was fed and the preserved ones were dusted making sure they did not leave their places. Books and writing utensils were organized and neatly put away in the desk occupying Prince Aemond’s chambers. All extra studying materials were stacked nicely on the polished wood surface. Nothing had to be done for Aegon’s room seeing as she was in his room everyday. Living in his apartment made it easier to keep it all tidy and it made it more exciting to finish her day off by seeing his smiling face.

Smiling to herself, she tidies her prince’s bed once more making sure her lovely little note sat neatly upon the pillow she knew he always placed his head on every night. Working diligently, she didn’t quite hear the opening of the chamber doors but she most definitely heard it slam, the sound rattling most of everything in the room. Shocked by the sound, she whipped her body around facing the creator of the sound who stood shakily against the closed door.

“Oh my, Aegon. How I’ve missed you,” she gushed making her way over to him.

Slowly, she realized something was amiss; his hair waterfalled over his face and he stood pressed up against the door shaking. She closed in on him gently wrapping her hands around his biceps and hoping to meet his eyes again.

“What’s happened? Please look at me, Aegon,” she fretted, worrying that something had happened to him and she couldn’t have been more right in that suspicion.

Taking a moment, he huffed out a breath before lifting his head and effectively moving his silvery white strands away from the disgusting mark tainting his face. A gasp left her lips as she agonizingly looked at the bruise in its dark state of purples and blues. Just the sound of her gasping made the barely held sobs break through their damaged dam unleashing a torrent of horrendously breathtaking cries and rivers of tears making their journey down his face.

“Oh Gods. Please talk to me. Tell me what has happened while you were away,” she pressed using her hands that were already on his arms to guide him to his bed.

She sat him gracefully atop of the blankets and quickly placed herself beside him on the bed. With her dress tucked under her knees, she kneeled, pulling his head into the crook of her neck. Using that as an invitation, Aegon tangled his arms around her body squeezing, relishing in the comfort he so desired since the night before.

Between hiccups, the broken teen muttered, “Aemond was attacked and lost an eye. Mother blames me for it since he partially provoked Rhaenyra’s children. She slapped me. Twice in the span of a few hours.” Taking a moment to catch his breath again, he started up once more, “She called me a drunk for having one cup of ale and said I was going to be like my father.”

Admitting out loud what had happened to him unleashed another torrent of sobs. He was unable to stop himself because after all, he was a broken boy made by the adults in his life. His father was never present in his life, always prioritizing his eldest child over the rest. His mother resented him for being the child first born out of an act that stole the rest of her girlhood. In some ways, he reminded her of herself being pressured by those around them to perform duties that they feel they are not fit for. His grandsire is the second son who’s more ambitious than most, lusting for his own flesh and blood to sit upon the Iron Throne even though the title will never be theirs rightfully. Broken and beaten, Aegon allowed for years of anguish to ripple down the neck of his dearest love soaking the shoulder and neckline of her plain dress.

Brushing his long strands away from his streaked face, she whispered to him, “You are nothing like your father. He may be the King but you will never be like him. You desire for more than what everyone expects of you and you want to be there for the loved ones in your life.” She chuckled to herself about her next statement. “I’m afraid if your mother thinks you're a drunk for having an ale every once in a while, I wonder what she thinks Prince Daemon is seeing, he's the most self indulgent out of your family.”

Laughing at her words, Aegon began to feel the tears lessen and the deep seated sadness lift into something much lighter.

“Obviously, it’s too scandalous for her to say. Mayhaps she believes if she just says what he is, she would be committing a sin on words alone,” Aegon laughed out, taking a second to remove the streaks of wetness off his cheeks being mindful of the swelling on the one side.

Relishing in the moment, the both of them started scooting up the bed making their way to lay down on his bed. Face to face, hand in hand, the young couple gazed into each other’s eyes with their heads resting upon the white downy pillows. This was another moment where they wanted the world to stop around them as they just lived in it never wanting it to stop.

Crinkling of paper sounded under the prince’s head, he lifted his head just enough to snatch the note and bring it into his view. Questioning, he raised a pale eyebrow at her smiling face and all she did in response was gesture for him to read it. Opening the note, Aegon recognized her distinctive handwriting and read the note to himself:

In lavender fields, I feel your touch. Every moment you’re gone, I lay in their softness and gaze to the sun. For the sun, I see your smile. I miss you as you miss I and I am as close to you as you are to me.

I’m in the night sky shining brightly as the moon with the stars around me. I’m the dragon’s breath you touch every time you enter Godswood.

Avy jorrāelan, ñuha vēzos.

Shocked to see the Valyrian at the end of the note, Aegon gripped her arm and dragged her into his embrace squeezing her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him again to the best of her ability and cherished the feeling of being in his arms.

For hours, they laid there in each other’s embrace slowly drifting into a deep sleep — one of the most peaceful sleeps they both have had in ages. Face to face, smile mirroring smile, an image of pure content and bliss.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Time had started to pass Westeros by. Everything was changing and no one knew whether that change was good or bad. All of the Targaryen children grew older and grew more into themselves; Heleana was a woman of ethereal proportions who desired for her insects even with her duties now as a mother to twins, Aemond was the perfect prince who excelled in his studies and with his swords just as much as he excelled at being a doting father and husband to his sister-wife and their children, Daeron was stuck in Oldtown but he never let it get to him that he was missing out on everything with his family and Aegon did his duties as possible heir to the throne with his hair now much shorter and his love stronger than ever before.

At eight and ten, he was now older than his half-sister, Rhaenyra was when she married Ser Laenor and out of all of his siblings — excluding Daeron who is the scholar of them all — he is the only one unwed making his so-called claim to the throne weaker than before. Of course, he was hoping to rectify that problem sooner than anyone was really expecting. He’s been planning this for a while after gaining inspiration from the marriage between Rhaenyra and his uncle Daemon.

The traditions of Old Valyria have always interested him considering that his mother has been pushing for them all to practice the Faith of the Seven. It felt like he couldn’t participate in those traditions and in the Old Gods even though he is of Targaryen blood so, hearing of the marriage between his sister and uncle, it burned the flame in his chest hotter than ever before. A tradition he desperately wanted to follow as a way of taking his love and making her his in every aspect and living the way a Targaryen should, not caged by the rules of others.

Everything has been planned and set in place for at least two moons and he couldn’t have been more thankful for those who were privy to it all on keeping hush-hush about his plans. Tonight was the night he had chosen for this special occasion and he timed it all perfectly so that by the time they came back from Dragonstone, no one would have noticed that they were gone for the entire night. Granted, Aegon wanted more time to appreciate his soon to be bride after their ceremony but timing was of the essence and he wasn’t having anyone stop him from doing what he wished.

He was marrying her tonight and he was determined to ravish her in every physical way possible as well.

━━━━

It was nerve wracking seeing how he’s grown and changed over the years. Alicent could feel the nervous energy consume her as she gazed down at the training yard intently watching her sons do a light training session for the day. She was always so proud of her second son and she always doted on him as he grew up but seeing Aegon so changed from how he behaved as a child until now.

Before she assigned her as his handmaid, Alicent would envision how she thought her eldest would turn out and every time, those images reaped of horrible outcomes to how he would be as an adult. Now, she could visibly see the difference to how she thought he would be to how he actually is. He was longer a spoiled child who needed the attention of those around him, he was a man who she could see ladies of the court desiring for him to be theirs. A gentleman who was patient and reserved, lovely to those lesser than him and he even does what he can to make his siblings happy in their lives.

She knew that these changes were because of the handmaid but she didn’t want to admit that fact. Admitting it would mean that they were far closer than any prince and maid should be, far closer that rumors of an intimacy that should only be between a married couple seem true in some sense. Those rumors frightened her to her core as she had shredded through the skin around all of her nails in knowing that news. Those rumors are what sparked the urgency in her and her father to arrange for a betrothal and hopefully, quick marriage between Aegon and a lady of high standing.

Doing a quick betrothal and marriage aren’t ideal but seeing how lovely Aegon is even towards women not in his family made that worry — worry that he would have ended up rotten like most men in her life — fade away. She had run this by her son briefly a few days prior and shockingly, there was no fight in him unlike when he fought for Heleana and Aemond to be wed. The lack of a battle had a trickle of suspicion shiver down her spine as she hoped he was genuine in the idea of being betrothed to a noble woman. Being married to one of the many eligible women throughout Westeros would better help Aegon stake his claim as a real heir to the Iron Throne.

Hoping all of the work she is indulging her father in would be fruitful and she won’t have him breathing harder down her neck. The pressure could be placed on someone else for once. All they needed to do was get this done quickly and swiftly.

━━━━━━━━

Painted in shades of orange and red, the sun had begun to hide behind the calming waves of the bay. The burning light of the setting sun lit up the chamber room in the same shades as the sky and dozens of candles accompanied the fading light. Soft whispers filled the cool air and a pattern of light footsteps danced around in the background. 

Bathing themselves in the setting sun, the couple embraced in a slow dance seeming to move to a rhythm only they know of. A glow radiated off of them as they smiled at one another enjoying the quiet moment together. Anyone who peaked in on the situation would think that they were a pair of gods painted in their ethereal gleam who have graced their presence amongst the land of mortals. It was a beautiful sight that not even the most skilled painters could replicate this moment of beauty and it was a moment that could only be lived in current time. 

Even though they were the only ones in the room, they never spoke over a soft whisper, keeping their conversation strictly to their ears only. 

“Jaelan ao naejot sagon ñuhon isse ābrar se isse morghon,” Aegon muttered, tightening his grip on her waist and bringing his lips closer to her ear. I want you to be mine in life and in death. 

A soft, quick laugh expelled from her lips at her lover’s statement. “Iā dīnilūks rȳ īlva would dōrī sagon approved, ñuha vēzos.” A marriage between us would never be approved, my sun. Lighthearted, her words were but there was an err of truth to it. “Kesan va moriot sagon aōhon sesīr skori iksā naejot gūrogon iā riña hae aōha ābrazȳrys .” I will always be yours even when you are to take a maiden as your wife. 

Taking the moment as she let it sink in for her prince, she further embraced him in a sweet kiss. Nothing more, nothing less. A delicate coupling in light of a very serious conversation that needed to be had between the couple. 

Snaking his hand out of hers, he wrapped it around the base of her skull pushing her petal lips harder against his. Deepening the kiss, they both began to feel their bodies warm under the intensity of their kissing and it lit a deep desire for more. Wanting more but also wanting to continue their conversation, Aegon tightened his grip on her neck and tugged her lips away from his. A slight string of saliva was all that connected them as it slowly fell away. 

A smirk etched itself into the lines of his face as he gazed down at the dazed, flushed look of hers. “Kesi dīnagon, ñuha hūra.  Nyke kȳvanon naejot mazverdagon ao ñuhon tonight va Zaldrīzesdōron,” We will marry, my moon. I plan to make you mine tonight on Dragonstone, he paused pulling her body even closer to his, relishing in the small gasp she breathed out. “Īlva dīnilūks kessa sagon gaomagon isse se ways hen uēpa Valyria se pār, eminna ao.” Our marriage will be done in the ways of Old Valyria and then, I will have you.

Shocked by his confession, she snapped herself out of her lust-fueled fog and stared him down with her head still tipped backwards. The realization that Aegon had organized for this all to happen on such short notice was startling. She, of course, wanted to be his wife in a way that it hurt from how much she wished for it but, it sounded absolutely ludicrous for them to be wed behind the backs of everyone on the Council and the monarchs. 

“Are you serious, Aegon? Tonight?” She sputtered out trying to catch her bearings. “How?”

Smiling down at her anxious form, Aegon placed a soft peck on her forehead before looking deep into her starry eyes. Those eyes that he’s gazed into for eight long years, the eyes of the woman he is determined to make his in every way possible; in mind, body and soul.

“A small bag has been packed and set upon Sunfyre who will be ready to fly an hour after the sun has set. Ser Arryk Cargyll has already been sworn to secrecy as I have prepared him to act as if we have taken an early night in our chambers.” He brushed a stray hair that had fallen out of its braid away from her flustered face. “Do not worry. Everything has been set up on Dragonstone as well. When we arrive, we dress in the marital robes, perform the ceremony and then I shall finally ravish you, my love.”

A moment passed as she processed the details that Aegon quietly muttered to her in secrecy. Knowing that very soon, they could be finally wed and be free to love one another caused a warmth to boil in her belly. It was exciting and so dangerous to do something as daring as this but she didn’t care considering that she could be with the man she has loved for all of these long years.

“Sȳrī, īlon kessa jiōragon jemēla hēnkirī se sagon va īlva ñuhoso.” Well, we shall get ourselves together and be on our way. A smirk that mirrored the one on the prince’s face stretched across her beautiful face as they plotted their way to a marriage that insulted the King and the Queen.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The cool night air felt chilly when one was soaring through the dusting of clouds that littered the sky but, on the small sandy beaches of Dragonstone, the air was the perfect temperature for such a momentous night. For her first long trip on Sunfyre, it was rather lovely and the landing at the freehold was a bit rougher than landing at the Dragon Pit in King’s Landing causing her to tighten her grip on Aegon’s waist when she was jostled. 

Seeing the castle here for the first time was breathtaking and knowing that they would be wed on such a beautiful island made it even more spectacular. The exhilaration of all this was beginning to make her jittery as Aegon helped her down from the saddle on Sunfyre after retrieving everything else they had brought with them.

Once on the ground, he clutched onto their small bag and intertwined their fingers before making their way up the unmarked path to the castle. Taking in the scenery made all of this so real to Aegon and he couldn’t have been more happy being here with her and finally putting his long awaited plans into place. He took his sweet time guiding her through the sand and rocks making their way to the entrance where he knew the help he employed would be waiting for them.

As she trekked with the help of Aegon’s hand, she huffed out, “I know you’ve planned all of this but, who did you get to help us with the ceremony? Find the priest to wed us?”

Pulling her up through the final layer of rocks before a smooth pathway, he chuckled at her exasperation and her worry that something would possibly fall through. He understood where she was coming from in the state of her worry but he just wanted her to enjoy this night to the fullest without nitpicking the details. 

“Well, I had the help from someone who was much more knowledgeable on the ways of Old Valyria and they were the ones to set up everything – the robes, the priest, the dragonglass and the goblet we are to use.”

Just as Aegon stated that to satiate her curiosity, the path revealed the entrance of the freehold where out of the faint glow coming from within came the heir to the throne, Princess Rhaenyra in a gown clothed in the infamous Targaryen red and black waiting with her hands clutched gently in front of her.

“It’s good to see you, Aegon after receiving your letters for so long,” Rhaenyra smiled at the embraced couple making their way closer to the princess. “Everything has been set up and I’ll have you both escorted to get ready separately before we do the ceremony.”

“I’m glad we are seeing each other under better circumstances this time, sister. I also appreciate all the help you have provided.” Bringing her closer, he gestured to her. “This is the one I have told you so much about.  Ñuha hūra se qēlossās.” My moon and stars.

Stunned by meeting Rhaenyra in such a setting, she dropped to a low curtsy before popping herself back up to meet the motherly smile of the woman across from her. “I’m pleased to meet you, Your Grace. I had no idea that Aegon had enlisted your help in our marriage,” she blurted out.

“Please, call me Rhaenyra. After all, by the time the sun breaks through the darkness, we will be family. Come along now. We should get this ceremony started as swiftly as we can.” Rhaenyra stepped aside for the couple to make their way into the castle and guided them to their chambers to ready themselves.

Rhaenyra followed behind the young couple as she allowed for the servants to escort them all to where they needed to be for the night. Being behind them, she noticed how delicately Aegon held his lover and how he seemed so soft towards her – the gentle kiss on her forehead, the arm wrapped around her waist to pull her close to his form, the faint whispers he would speak to her. It was a young love that has blossomed and has been deeply cared for all these years like Aegon has told her in his letters he sent her these past few moons. This was a love that would never rot away; it would grow bolder with time.

The princess was shocked to find how desperate her half-brother was to marry –and marry a handmaid at that – considering she was to believe he was growing up rotten and spoiled by the treasures of life. The last time they had seen each other was the night that Vhagar was claimed and Aemond lost his eye to Lucerys’ hand. Alicent made it out to be that Aegon was who planted such awful rumors in his brother’s head but she could see that he was the far opposite of those accusations. She could see he was kind and sweet; everything that a maiden wished for their future husband to be. He so dearly loved his handmaiden that he was willing to wed her without the approval of the King and Rhaenyra would see that wish through for him.

━━━━

Amongst the thorny hedges and towering pine trees in Aegon’s Garden, a small gathering sat in the center of it all as they breathed in the sanctity of the ceremony. In robes of blood red faded into mute beige, the couple stood joined hand in hand as the priest spoke the vows in Valyrian. Around them, the witnesses to this marriage watched with varying expressions; Rhaenyra had a soft smile of familial affection, Daemon was woefully neutral and rightfully curious to this dramatic change in his nephew’s character, Jacaerys seemed uninterested but supportive considering how urgent his mother had dragged him and Lucerys was much of the same expression as his elder brother. 

Even with the small gathering of witnesses, all Aegon and his bride could focus on was one another seemingly able to communicate through subtle eye gestures and the occasional eyebrow movement. This was an all-consuming moment in time and they were doing all they could to soak it up for this was going to be a night they will always want to remember. 

For those not truly focused on the ceremony, time dragged on watching the couple stand there with the priest droning on behind them. But, it was anything but boring for those invested in what was transpiring. Even with Aegon and his bride more focused on what was happening between them than what the priest was saying, they were thrilled for such an opportunity and of course, appreciative of the efforts that Aegon’s elder sister went through to make this happen. They would obviously say their thanks when this all came to an end and Rhaenyra didn’t need their words to know how thankful they were. 

The heir knew their thanks and did not need it for she could see the true love and devotion the couple have for one another. Even with the differences in status, it was a love that many only heard of and very rarely seen in person; this was heartful and full of emotion. She would not need their thanks as she felt it was her duty to make this happen before the council went into uproar over a request for this union. All she would ask of them was to continue to grow into their love and have it continuously blossom — of course she would jokingly request for a future child be named after her. Everyone’s focus began to leak from their minds and were back onto the couple. 

Through the guidance of the priest, it was time for the finale of the ceremony; the binding of their souls. With a steady hand, Aegon was the first to retrieve the small blade of dragonglass from their officiant making his way to his bride. As the blade closed in on her bottom lip, he stopped, looking up at her for her consent which was given to him with a happy jolt of a nod. Carefully, he pressed and sliced a thin line through the center of her bottom lip where blood immediately began to dribble to the surface. Exchanging the blade into her empty, awaiting hand, she too repeated the same process of waiting for his consent and slicing through his plump, bottom lip. The little bit of crimson that pooled on his lip contrasted beautifully against his pale skin and made her eager for the end of this to come. 

Without hesitation, they each dip a single finger into the welling of blood upon their lips and take turns in marking their foreheads to signify the continuation of the Targaryen bloodline — even though the bride was not of the Targaryen line. One last time with the dragonglass, their left hands are cut, causing more blood to pool outside of their bodies; none of that was a concern in the grand scheme of this event for obvious reasons. With clasped hands mixing their blood, the vital fluid rapidly flowed due to the pressure of the two hands and as the witnesses watched as it flowed, a chalice was given to them, each taking their turn at sipping from it. 

Upon the final words, they join in a kiss riddled with the mixing of their blood and saliva as they bathe in the glory of being now newlyweds. They are as it is said, 'one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.’ The beginning of forever for them.

━━━━

They couldn’t get to their guest chambers fast enough with how desperate they were to consummate their marriage. Frantic hands gripping each other’s robes and lips in a vicious battle against one another. 

Distracted by the joining of their mouths, it was difficult trying to remove the marital robes and the simple underclothes that lay beneath. Hands continued to tangle with the fabric and get trapped by the desperation and need lit aflame in the couple. Without stopping their sloppy kissing, they figured out that one would start to work on the other’s clothes while the other didn’t try to multitask with them; it was a mess if they both did the same thing at the same time but oh were they ready to pounce. As effectively as they could, layers upon layers of fabric fell from their bodies creating a puddle of clothes to accumulate on the floor, each of them stepping out of their shoes and out of the pile as they made their way to the bed in the center of the chamber. 

Skin to skin flush against one another and as gentle as he could, he sprawled her out on top of the covers displaying her in all of her glowing beauty out of breath and flushed from their kissing. For a moment, Aegon kneeled a single leg between hers and gazed down taking in the feast of flesh that was waiting to be devoured. A solitary “breathtaking” broke through the sounds of heavy breathing and shifting fabric. Leaning himself over her, collectively trapping her between his arms, he gives a long peck on his swollen lips before he starts his journey down her body, sprinkling open-mouth kisses along the way. Each kiss burned hotter than the last the closer her prince became towards where she wanted him most. 

Soft breaths against the wet kisses sent shivers down her spine and decorated her skin in goosebumps leaving him feeling victorious in her reaction. More small kisses were placed down her inner thighs and back before Aegon blew a cold breath over the kisses again reaping the same reaction. A whine escaped her lips urging him to stop teasing her and to finally make his way where she was desperate for him to be. One last breath blew over her soaking slit causing her to jolt before he decided to finally end his torment and devour her.  

Shock was the expression written on her face and electricity flowed through her body at the attention her love was giving her body. It was an odd sensation but oh was it so deliciously satisfying. The feeling of his wet tongue stroking her and drawing her clit into his mouth was like nothing she’s ever felt before but, she wanted more and more. With a shaky hand, she threaded his silky, white hair in between her fingers and gripped tightly eliciting a moan that vibrated against her adding more stimulation onto the devouring Aegon was doing to her. Breathy moans and sloppy, wet sounds were all that could be heard and it was even more erotic listening to while being overwhelmed by the tongue slipping its way into her. 

More and more pleasurable shockwaves rode through her system as Aegon eagerly continued to feast upon the slick dripping from her. The slurping and the moans vibrated through him made the heat in her belly rise higher than the previous second. The heat and the waves began to burn closer together causing her to grip his hair tighter and arch her back to get her even closer to his face. At this point, she was riding his face with every swift thrust of her hips moving on the blanket top. 

The waves began to crash closer and closer with his grip on her thighs tight, almost bruising the soft flesh. She panted out her moans, struggling to catch her breath with the pleasure burning through her and the thin cord deep within threatening to snap under the sucking and licking. As she looked through her lashes down between her legs, her eyes locked with the dark, hooded eyes peering back up at her. His intense, lavender eyes made her even warmer and had her focused on the sloppy, wet sounds being made by him. 

All she needed was just something —anything— to push her over the edge and snap that cord deep within. As if he could read her mind, Aegon brought two of his fingers up to collect some of her slick before slowly and gently inserting them within. The slight intrusion was a bit strange but oh was the curling of his fingers and the gentle thrust of his hand just absolutely fucking perfect. Her moans went up a few octaves as she tried to desperately chase the high she could feel building more and more. 

It was all so electrifying and all it took was him sucking on her sensitive clit and the right amount of pressure from his curled fingers for the orgasm to hit full force where stars exploded within her vision. A tingling sensation exuded from her limbs and her belly’s flame was stoked to be hotter than ever making her want more from her new husband. 

Pushing himself up off the bed, the prince held a sly smirk on his face and from his lips, her arousal glistened in the lowlight of their chambers. Prowling his way up her shaky form, Aegon left feathery-light touches across her flesh reaping more chills to rake through her. 

“ You’re such a good girl for me, my love. Just riding my face as I devour you whole,” he whispered out looking down upon her flushed face like a predator about to pounce on its prey. “Why don’t you keep those pretty legs open for me and allow me to ravish you some more?”

Almost as if it was a command she couldn’t ignore, her legs spread a bit wider allowing for his body to be accommodated better between them. His words and his deep stare made her writhe with wanting more pleasure to be drawn out by him. 

“Aegon, please… Give me more. I want all of you.” A faint whimper followed her words making the smirk grow deeper into his face as he leaned in to feel her breath on his face.

Stealing her air, Aegon pressed their lips together in a deep, all-consuming kiss desiring for her to taste herself upon him. Hse found it even more arousing being able to taste herself on his lips and she was all the more determined to devour him as he is to devour her. Distracted by them making out, he slowly caressed his hands down her shaky body and took himself into one of his hands, stroking it against her, collecting her slick upon his head. 

With enough preparation, he slowly began to push himself into her. The sudden intrusion caused her to gasp against his mouth as he whispered small words of encouragement. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation feeling him bare within her but the stretch was a tad bit uncomfortable. Aegon continued to slowly push his way further and further in as he whispered and placed tiny kisses upon her face. 

“Eman ao, ñuha hūra.  Bē konīr,” softly, he spoke as he controlled his desire to just fully push in and relish himself in the feeling of how she was squeezing him tightly.  I have you, my moon. Almost there. 

With one final press, their hips were flush against one another and deep moans exuding from the both of them. Aegon nuzzled his head into her neck taking deep breaths to control himself and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck carding one of her hands deeply into his silky locks. Allowing only their deep breathing to fill the quiet air around them, they let themselves have a bit of time to adjust to this new, all-consuming sensation before Aegon started to slowly move his hips so as to not cause any discomfort from starting off too quickly.

Soft moans left her lips as he started to move his hips faster and faster. Her skin was lit aflame, the lust was overwhelming and needed to have more of him. She shifted her hips to meet his thrusts and she laid a small trail of open kisses onto his shoulder with his groaning filled her ears. Aegon pushed himself up from her soft neck taking one of hands to grip her hip tightly while the other took her hands from his hair and trapped them above her head pushing her chest out further. 

“Tolī, kostilus. Tepagon nyke tolī,” breathlessly, she moaned out urging Aegon on, causing him to grip her hip tighter almost to the point of bruising her supple flesh. The slight twinge of pain from the grip felt so delicious with the feeling of his cock filling her and rutting into her.  More, please. Give me more.

Smirking at her desperation, he moved the hand that captured her wrists making its way down to wrap his hand gently around her throat, not to squeeze but just to make it known to her that he could at any point tighten his grip there. The feeling of his hand on her throat made her smirk back up at him as more pleasure ripped through her form. He kept at a brutal pace rutting into her and they both began to feel their pleasure peak making them desperate to finish. Shifting their bodies slightly, Aegon started to rub her clit relishing in the sensation of her tightening around him.

“Oh, sweetling. I’m so close. Give me one more before I breed your tight little cunt,” he rasped out rubbing his fingers faster against her and keeping up with his furious pace.

With the smacking of their skin, it overpowered the sounds of their gasping breaths and pleasurable moans. She could feel the shockwaves coming back more viciously than before ripping its way through her body and her limbs tingling. Closer and closer to their peak, the louder their moans became. The hot air made their skin flush red and stick with sweat to one another. 

His pace grew inconsistent as he neared his finish and he could feel her squeeze him impossibly more. The shockwaves kept crashing over her faster with a knot growing tighter within her belly. Soon enough, the waves mellowed out as the knot snapped causing her to orgasm yet again under his attention. The squeezing of her cunt made his head spin making him come much sooner than he intended to. His warmth filled her, causing her to exude one last raspy moan into the ear of her new husband when he slumped his exasperated body on top of hers.

Large smiles stretching across the planes of their faces were filled with happiness and a great deal of breathlessness. They both were content with the events of the day and especially the events that had just happened a few moments prior. This was probably the happiest day of their lives and the feeling of having each other in every way possible – mind, body, and soul – was a feeling that could never be replicated the same way ever again. 

Breaking their moment of reprieve, Aegon removed his body weight off of her looking down at her as she was still trying to catch her breath. Grabbing one of her hands, he placed a soft kiss onto the palm of it before locking his eyes with her again.

“Iksan daor olvie gaomagon lēda ao, ñuha jorrāelagon.” He wrapped his arms around her, taking her by surprise as she let out a squeal. He was planning on having her as much as he possibly could that night before they had to leave back to the Red Keep. I am not quite done with you, my love.

━━━━━━━━

“What do you mean, ‘You can not take a bride’? It is your duty to do so and there is nothing standing in your way to having your choice of the most eligible women in the Seven Kingdoms!” exclaimed Alicent who was moments away from utterly losing her shit — to put it nicely —with her smirking son. 

“I shall give you one guess, Mother as to why I can’t take a bride,” the eldest prince paused for effect before he continued on. “And I’m afraid there is no way for it to be stopped since it has already been done.”

Narrowing her eyes on his form, she thought over what he said and what it all meant. Picking at the skin of her thumbnail, she quickly pondered the ominous riddle she was told. Why did she need to guess on this matter? There’s absolutely no reason for him to keep refusing to court a noble lady unless… 

“You imbecile! You fucked your handmaid, didn’t you! And I would be wrong to assume she’s pregnant with your spawn? I can’t believe that you’ve done something like this, Aegon! You are to be placed on the throne  by the hand of your grandsire and you let some lowly whore seduce you into ruining your chance at having the throne, a noble wife and legitimate children. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” Alicent ranted and raved as her face became red with the lack of air she was breathing in. 

Aegon was actually taking great joy in watching his mother absolutely lose every fragment of sanity that hasn’t been frayed by anxiety and the pressures of his grandsire whispering into her ear. It was almost comical how red she was becoming but what wasn’t amusing about what was happening was the complete slander she was talking about. Granted, yes, he did lovingly fuck his handmaid. Yes, there was a small inkling that he hoped she was impregnated by him even so soon after their marriage; if not, well, they’ll have plenty of time to ‘practice’. But, he will not have his mother or anyone for that matter, speak so horrendously about her whether it was behind his back or to his face. 

A deep chuckle broke Alicent’s tirade as her vision focused in on Aegon pushing himself off from the ledge he made himself comfortable on and made his way prowling towards her in her solar. The echoes of the steps and the dark look in his eyes made Alicent believe that she was not the apex here, she was the prey who has been ceaselessly baiting the predator into ripping her apart. 

“Yes, I did fuck my handmaid but, only after I had made her mine in the ways of Old Valyria. It’s quite the insult to the monarchs of our family and it brings me great joy watching you all lose your shit over my marriage. No, I do not believe my bride to be with a babe and I so wish for her to be rather soon. So, I will not be taking some pompous bitch to be my wife in name only to satisfy your need to adhere to Grandsire’s desires and my handmaid will be my wife in every sense of the word and duty. She has been my closest companion and dearest love for eight long years and she will stay that way until we both lay to rest eternally. Have I made myself clear, Alicent?” 

With every step he took during his monologue, Alicent felt smaller and smaller inching closer to her chaise until the back of her legs hit it causing her to drop down. His eyes never left her face and his words were like flames licking her skin and the last words spoken were like ice burning away at the scorched flesh. 

Tears formed on her waterline but they lingered there, never falling from their place. In all of her years, she has never been made to feel so much like the small prey caught while on a hunting expedition. Seeing how well he’s grown over the years, the Queen never expected something so dark to come over her eldest child; it was something that terrified her more than her father and his deceptive ways. Exhaling a shaky breath, all she could do was nod up at her son who continued to glare down at her waiting for a response. 

With her nod, the dark look slowly faded into an expression of neutrality seemingly content with it. Aegon started to back away, turning himself around to head out of his mother’s solar. His steps rang victorious in the quiet air and his body language screamed the same tune yet his face revealed none of it. 

Making his last step to the door, he turned and faced her again with his hand on the doorknob. Rolling his shoulders and clearing his throat, he spoke once more, “I never meant to be truly hostile to you but, I will not have any slander upon her name. Once you truly see that she is nothing like you have perceived her to be, I would be more than happy for the three of us to spend more time together and have her welcomed into the family regardless of her status.”

Taking that as his cue, a small whisper of ‘I love you’ left his lips as he closed the door behind him leaving his mother to take in his words and the situation they had been put in. Those little words were, hopefully, enough for her to put things aside and be more open to her son being so in love with a maid from their castle even though it just about ruins everything her father has been working towards.

━━━━━━━━

The days seemed to be numbered for the King as his ailing body continued to weaken beyond the ability to heal and it was becoming glaringly obvious that the Hand’s plans to usurp the throne were finally within view. The grand scheme of it all was coming together quite nicely and the pawns all seemed to be placed right where they needed to be. The only pieces in this game that had to be utterly compliant and in their perfect place was the eldest son of King Viserys, Aegon the Elder.

Otto Hightower was always a man reaching for what was far beyond his means and determined to get what he desired no matter the cost to others around him. He was set on the King dying very soon unexpectedly and his supposed heir to be left in the dark so he could crown his daughter’s son as the next era of Targaryens upon the Iron Throne. Sure, he would desire for him to be the one on the throne but a child of his child would work just as well; he just needed to rally his grandson and his filthy choices to be completely on board. 

He knew that if he was able to work the conversation the right way, he wouldn’t even need to talk to Aegon — she would just inform him and believe that it was all her idea. If it was her idea, it could be easy later on to blame any of the outcome of usurping the throne on her and all evidence of her and those things will be forever erased. Truthfully, Otto thinks that this is his best plan to date; it was almost like killing two birds with one stone and him being left unscathed as always. 

On such an eventful day, the first thing on his list of devious dues to accomplish was to find that filthy handmaid of his grandson and speak to her about ‘family’ matters. It was quite easy to find her on sunny days like this one; her and the prince had a pretty predictable schedule and have had a predictable one for quite some time. 

In the seclusion of the royal garden, his eldest grandson’s brood took their midday break and hid away from the prying eyes of the council and guards. Everyday, a small picnic was held by the handmaid after she finished her morning routine of chores considering that she still worked under the guise of being the personal handmaid to Prince Aegon even with the evidence of them being much more than employer and employee. 

It was the same image everyday; the maid sitting on the blanket watching as two small children either ate their fill or played with one another amongst the many flowers and greenery. In his eyes, Otto was sickened by the display of ignorance and the so-called “love” that was constantly masking the faces of these people. If Aegon had just set his sights on some easy noblewoman, he would be fine with bastards being born but this is a servant for Gods’ sake! It’s almost as bad as the earlier stories of the King’s brother being a repeat customer to the brothels in the Streets of Silk. 

Making his way through the gardens, the Hand found the small family’s hideaway with the children gone briefly and the maid just sitting upon the blanket laid on the grass. Absolutely perfect; right where he needed her to be. 

The sounds of his steps disturbed the soft peacefulness and the maid whipped her attention away from the rustling of flowers towards the intruder. Alarmed to find the King’s Hand, she bolted up off the ground and immediately curtsied for the man. 

With a small wave of his hand, he dismissed her out of her curtsy and began to speak in his usual arrogant way. “I have been in search of you for quite some time. A few of the other servants informed me that you would be here this afternoon.”

She was taken back briefly by Hightower’s statement at the fact he was looking for her of all people. 

“Well, I am happy to be of service to you, my Lord. What is it you will be needing to discuss?” Her voice was strong, unwavering in his presence unlike many of the other working maids. Overconfident for her status. 

“Well, the Queen and I know how close you are to the Prince and we were curious to know of how the Prince would react to being heir if the chance ever were to arise,” spoke Otto dignified, watching to see if any emotions ran across her face; none did. If anything, her face was wiped clean as a fresh slate and it was impossible for the man to find any insecurity to prey on to push forward his agenda. 

A moment passed during their staring match waiting for the other to break their mask and reveal everything. She knew a day like this would come; she wasn’t an idiot who allowed just anyone to prey upon her emotions. It was only a matter of time before she knew her husband’s grandsire would try to openly play his game; a game that she and Aegon have been planning to possibly ruin since their marriage four years ago. Now was the time to work this conversation into her favor. 

She forced a rather fake cough from her throat before she proceeded to respond to the Hand. “The possibility of the Prince becoming the Heir to the Iron Throne is not something that someone like I, would discuss as a topic with his Grace. One would think that since he is the King’s first son, that he would be optimistic about being King but, of course, I do believe that this is a matter that you should be personally discussing with him, my Lord, not with his maid. I’m sure he will greatly appreciate being approached by you about this.”

Otto heard her words as a challenge but her face and body language revealed a neutral playing field. He was hoping she was going to be much more vulnerable considering she would be in an intimate setting with those heathens that he is somehow related to. Overall, her reaction was proving to be a stark contrast to what he wanted but he could work with the fighting words that she had initiated; he had to make this work if he wanted to be successful. 

“You are very brave to speak that way to a man of status like I am. It makes you very lucky that I don’t find a reason to punish you for your tongue lashing –” 

“If you deem those words as a lashing, my Lord, then what I could say freely would be a massacre upon you,” she snarled, very quickly changing her neutrality into a look of thinly veiled anger.

“What makes you believe that you could just speak like that? There is only one thing I need you to do to make everything fall into place and you will agree to my terms, you whore!” Otto’s face grew red with his anger and he wore it very clearly on his aging face. “You will tell my grandson that he will be taking the throne when the King dies whether he wants to or not! I will not have you jeopardize everything I have done to make sure my family gets what they are owed!”

Every word was punctuated by the rough stomps encroaching on the safe space that the maid had made in the tranquil garden. Every step was like a knife slashing at delicate curtains to reveal the truth behind the fabric and it was revealing a woman determined to protect the sanctity of her family’s safety. Overall, this one sided argument was going to end disastrously for one of the two adults.

Toe to toe at each other’s neck, the opposing forces glared down the other showing the opposite ends of anger; the man had his wrath shown full force as there was no way for him to conceal it and the woman’s rage was under the tight grips of a mask with the only evidence being in the way the stars in her eyes burned like the sun. The silence was deafening between the two and all that played softly in the background was the gentle sway of the garden greenery as small bodies playfully explored through them.

Breaking the silence, she kept her eyes locked onto the Hand’s as she squared herself against his imposing form. “Only this one time will I be a brute in my words and only this once will I speak out of turn. I will not be telling Aegon to do anything that you wish for him to do. He will make that decision on his own without any outside influence and we both know of the little game you have been setting up. We are not pawns in the game for the Iron Throne. You have made yourself out to be this figure who knows the secrets of everyone you wish to manipulate and I’m sorry to tell you, my Lord, but I’m afraid you don’t know everything there is.”

Her words were like her snatching Otto’s attacking knife and burying it deep within his chest. There could be no possible way for this peasant to have secrets that he doesn’t know and this knowledge was going to bother him until he could find out what it was they were hiding from his eyes. The perturbed look on his face was enough for her to feel victorious in this small battle – a battle she felt she needed to fight considering he ruined her afternoon with her children. 

“A last few remarks before you scamper away with your tail tucked between your legs, my children will not be considered bastards by the likes of you and will forever be legally seen as the heirs of Aegon,” she spat at him as he slowly began to sulk his way back to his hermit hole. “And in your search into our secrets, you won’t know the answer until it’s far too late. Let that truth sink into your bones as it keeps you awake at night.”

The urgency of his leaving was met with the more calming presence of two young children – both with large smiles and matching appearances. Their white blonde hair glowed in the high sun illuminating small halos around their heads with eyes of shades of lavender and periwinkle. The eldest child was a boy of four name days and anyone who didn’t know better would think Aegon was turned back into a small child again. He was every bit identical to his father and such a sweet little boy to his younger sister. The youngest also has the traditional Targaryen features as does her brother but there were glimpses of her mother in her face. Aegon swore he could see the same stars in his little girl’s eyes; the same stars that burned in her mother’s. Each of these little ones resembled the very best parts of their parents regardless of the unsavory opinions other adults had about their existence.

“Muña! Muña!” the little voice from the boy burst out as the two ran towards their kneeling mother and jumped into her outstretched arms the second they were within reach. A bright smile replaced the burning glare she had earlier as she held tightly the giggling children. 

“Oh, my darlings! What have you brought for me today?” She looked down to see a small bushel of varying flowers where some still had their roots attached and dirt falling from them.

“Alysanne jiōraton rūkluni syt ao se Kepa!” exclaimed him as the little girl pushed the bundle into her mother’s hands after she released them from her comforting arms. Alysanne got flowers for you and Father. 

“Why, thank you! And thank you for helping her, Baelon,” she chuckled, giving kisses onto her children’s heads before she fully stood up and dusted herself off. “How about we pack up our picnic and go find Kepa to show him the beautiful flowers you both got. Does that sound good?”

Her words were answered in small cheers and hurrying footsteps rushing to shove the blanket and other belongings from their picnic back into the basket. Their rushing was adorable and warmed her heart as she could see how much her children loved their father and being with him. A few moments more and she joined in on their packing. 

Once they were done, she picked up the basket and shifted it to balance on her hip so she could grab the tiny, open hand of her daughter, Alysanne and have Baelon grab the other open hand placing the girl of two name days between them. The peaceful familial image glowed in the sunlight as they made their way through the garden and into the castle searching for where Aegon was at that day.

━━━━

“I received a rather pleasant visit from your grandsire earlier today,” she remarked after she closed the doors that led to the small chambers of their young children connected to their main apartment.

It took a moment for the relaxed prince sitting at his desk to process what his lovely wife said filling the air and once it clicked, his head snapped towards her form almost giving himself whiplash at the words floating. 

“Grandsire? Otto of all people visited you this afternoon?” he questioned her, shaking his head and rubbing a hand down his face before he proceeded again. “I don’t mean to question your words, my love but everyone knows that the Hightower fuck doesn’t do ‘casual’ visits with anyone unless he has an ulterior motive.”

Moving his chair out from under the desk, she placed herself into her husband’s lap and laid her head upon his shoulder resting it into his neck. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist and the other softly began to brush against the exposed skin of her arms. In the comfort of each other, they let themselves brew on the situation before they decided to speak again on it.

“I’m going to be right to assume that the reason Otto sought you out today was to discuss the succession of the throne?” Aegon whispered making sure his voice wouldn’t be heard by anyone other than the two of them.

“And you are right to assume that. He threatened to have you take the throne regardless if you had any desire for it,” she breathed out for a moment. “I don’t take too kindly to him threatening our family and insinuating our children be bastards when they were born out of love. It lit a fire within me seeing him so furious with your choices but it’s up to you what we shall do, ñuha vēzos.”

Processing everything was cumbersome and was invoking an ache in his head that would take ages to be relieved. There was so much that needed to be done and so much to be decided on. Aegon knew the basis of Otto’s goals for him to usurp the throne the moment that the King had been greeted by the Stranger but after reconnecting with Rhaenyra years ago, he had no ambitions about taking her rightful throne from her. She was named heir long before he was born and she was more fitting of the throne than he ever would be. He would be content with his life if he just stayed as Prince Aegon, Second of his Name, husband to his gorgeous handmaid and father to his beautiful children, Baelon and Alysanne. There is no need for something more when he already has everything he could possibly need right at that moment.

He breathed a deep sigh and moved to rest his head upon hers. “I know that Otto won’t stop until he gets what he wants. I am not going to jeopardize the lives of our children to play into his foolish game.”

“Well, I believe now would be the time to implement our plan before Otto’s people dig their claws into us,” she said sadly before she moved herself to stand up in between Aegon’s spread legs. “Everything shall be ready by this time tomorrow evening and we find our way to the checkpoint.”

━━━━━━━━

The deep secret that Otto had searched relentlessly about Aegon and his maid revealed itself the day of the King’s passing – three days after the literary battle in the castle garden. After the small chat that happened that night, Aegon proceeded the next day as if nothing was out of the ordinary while the maid and their children were busy packing the clothes and the few precious belongings they have obtained over the years. The basis of what they were planning consisted of themselves and very few bags strapped to the back of Sunfyre to escape from the reach of the Hightower bastard into the safety of the maid’s family who had been preparing for the day that they would possibly be homing with them.

By the very next night, Aegon had used the secret passageways throughout the day to deliver their belongings to the Dragon Pit where Sunfyre had been anxiously awaiting to spread his wings for a long journey. When the guards were changing out, the adults, each with a child in hand, made their way through the silent castle and as swiftly as they could, they made their way to Rhaenys’ Hill. In their infinite amount of time they used to plan this escape, they knew by the time anyone would come looking for them, the family would be out of King’s Landing and down by the Sea of Dorne hidden away. 

They had every little detail etched out and there was no way that anything could possibly go wrong. Once the family and its hatchlings had reached the maid’s family homestead near the Dornish marshes, Sunfyre was ordered to fly away to the Dragon Pit – not to arouse any suspicions – or head to Dragonstone with the dragons that reside there freely. The family would then live as if they had always been there and Aegon would assume himself under a nickname with his Targaryen hair hidden as a dark, muddy brown; the child’s hair would also be dyed the same color. After enough time hidden away, the few who had to dye their hair could either keep dying it or allow for the dye to fade away back to their beautiful silvery blonde.

Everything was in place and it was working out fantastically.

━━━━━━━━

With Aegon missing and Otto having Aemond to assume his place on the Iron Throne, it caused a slight uproar by the people. Many would never want a woman to sit upon the throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms but the Greens lost many of their supporters when Prince Aemond was going to rule instead of Prince Aegon. Why would people support the second son as he has no real claim to the throne unlike the first born or the first son? 

Even with the few who didn’t support a woman ruling, Rhaenyra had more of a claim than her second half-brother. The small council gathering following the death had convinced the Queen that Rhaenyra would kill her siblings in cold blood as a way to assert herself in her rightful place after being named heir years prior. Of course, for a woman riddled with anxiety and paranoia, she agreed once again to her father’s nefarious plans even though there was an inkling of doubt deep within her chest. Prince Aemond then usurped the throne the days following the King’s passing thus starting the Dance of the Dragons. 

While civil war broke out, Aegon lived happily with his growing family in the marshes spending his days working tirelessly with the family he married into and it was everything he could dream of. He thought he was happy living within the Red Keep with their secret little family but freely being able to love his children and his wife made life so much more worth living. It was everything and more being who he wanted to be without the pressures of being a royal.

Though there was distance between him and his birth family, Aegon still loved them all and wished things would work out after hearing the news of what transpired since he left. Frequently, he wrote to Rhaenyra to quietly show his support as a way of paying her back for helping him years prior but he also wrote to Aemond, telling him in detail that Otto should not have played with Targaryen fire and that he should not listen to his ideas unless he is wishing to die by his hand. It hurt him seeing so much turmoil again after the night Aemond claimed Vhagar and his wife could see it deeply bothered him when they would break for the day.

Corresponding between the warring sides of the Greens and the Blacks, Aegon did the only thing he could think of without getting himself killed – offer refuge for his nephews and niece so they would be spared from the carnage that could outbreak. Without hesitation, Helaena sent her children to the safety of the marshes before the cruelty of war could take them from this plane of life. As if they were on the same wavelength, Rhaenyra sent her youngest children to stay until further notice with the oldest being sent periodically. As payment for acting as a refuge and caring for all the children, eggs of Syrax were sent as Rhaenyra believed every Targaryen child was deserving of an egg to hatch or a dragon to claim.

It all was painful to watch as that messed up family was being ripped apart but, how could he not be grateful for finally experiencing something so pure after so long?

His little family that he created, the relationships that he has made with his birth family and the one he married into and the dragons that he bonded to and raised. That all made this life meaningful and brought him true happiness.

taglist

@shesjustanothergeek

@starkillerrr

@fan-goddess

@imsolence

@audigay

@neenieweenie

@whodis-26

@hnslchw

[yn-ymn-yln]

Misguided Emotions

Eddie Munson x Neurodivergent!Reader 

Warning: Anxiety, emotions (always need a warning for that), slight emotional meltdown? kind of? description of sensory issues. 

Word count: 1188

Summary: A new fixation leads to a misunderstanding between you and Eddie. 

*I return from the dead to drop this in your laps and leave ✌️*

Eddie hadn’t meant to get angry. Meant even less to let his frustration reach the surface and ooze on to your tender excitement.

You had seen the perfect stuffy while shopping with Robin and Nancy. It was soft to the touch, with long floppy ears that you swore were made of pure silk and a squishy tummy that was brilliantly embroidered with the words “be mine”.

It truly had been love at first sight.

“I wish you had been there Teddie! It was so perfect!”

Through the haze of your infatuation, you had asked Eddie if he would take you back to buy it, claiming that you didn’t have the money now but you would pay him back. To your sheer horror he had said no, a rare occurrence in the five-month relationship the two of you had.  

Of course, you had fought him tooth and nail, desperate with need to bring such a beautiful thing into the sacred space of your room. This cycle continued for a while, asking for- in your mind- something so simple, yet being denied.

Finally, after many failed attempts to sway your attention to something else, you reached the precipice of Eddie’s seemingly endless patience.

“Jesus Christ, Fine!” Storming from the living room Eddie returned with said stuffy in hand, distaste clearly splayed on his usually kind features. “Here.” He tossed the victim of your hyper-fixation at you. “Was trying to surprise you… but if I have to hear you ask for it one more time, I’ll rip my hair out.”

His words sat like stone in your stomach.

You had ruined his surprise. You couldn’t just let it go, you had to pester him until he had no choice but to give you what you wanted.

Suddenly you were six years old again, begging your mother for a toy only to be reprimanded for asking at all. You felt like a child.  

The chill of guilt seeped into your bones, while shame burned behind your eyes. You always did this, took things far beyond the threshold of other people’s tolerance, so fixated that you were often blinded by their motives. Regret set in quickly, tensing your muscles and making your skin feel odd and too tight.

“I’m sorry Eddie.” You hadn’t been able to meet his eyes when the words had left you. Determined to stare at the empty space he had once occupied. A shuttered breath broke past your lips when a beat of silence passed.

“It’s fine Y/n. Just take it.” His irritated sigh is what shattered whatever had been sticking you together, a sob escaping from within you and catching the unwanted attention of your boyfriend. That sound alone had been enough to break Eddie’s heart but seeing your distressed stimming had him moving without much thought.

“Baby- It’s really okay, I promise I’m not mad.” He kneeled before you, hands rubbing the rough material of your jeans into your thighs, trying desperately to ground you.

“No thank you!” Your emotions became jumbled, thoughts disjointed as you tried to process the events that had happened. On instinct your hands covered your ears, body trying in vain to shut out any unnecessary sensory input. Tears flooded your cheeks as you watched Eddie’s face morph from worried to mortified. He could fix this. He had to fix this.

“Here baby, isn’t it pretty?” Attempting to soothe you, he lifted the object of your fixation to your line of sight. You felt bile rise in your throat at the gesture.

“NO THANK YOU! NO THANK YOU! NO THANK YOU!” You continued this mantra all the way to his room, where you closed and locked the door before Eddie could follow. As you paced the tattered rug your mind wandered back to stuffy you had left behind. Something that had once made you excited and joyful was now tainted with humiliation and dread. You knew you wouldn’t be able to look at it without remembering this moment, but the thought of returning it made you feel even worse. What if no one else bought it? Would it think you hadn’t loved it? Your spiraling was broken by a light knock on the door, Eddie’s voice penetrating the wooden obstacle.  

“Sweet thing, I’m sorry, please just let me in?” Ignoring him, you continued to pace while rubbing the worn, pilled fabric of your well-loved hoodie between your thumb and forefinger. The continuous motion soothing you somewhat.  

An hour passed before you opened the door in a moment of clarity and retreated to the comfort of Eddie’s bed. Cocooning yourself in the fluffiest blankets you stowed away and waiting for Eddie to come in. Although you had desensitized yourself to the situation, you still bared ill feelings towards your behavior. So, you hid the best you could without shutting Eddie out completely.  

“Baby?” It was meek, almost whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Is it okay if I come in?” His uncertainty stung, but not enough to give more than a one-word reply.

“Yeah.” You heard more than felt the bed springs as they shifted under the added weight.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” No.

“Yes.” You let the quiet envelope the two of you while Eddie rhythmically rubbed your blanket covered side. “I didn’t mean to behave badly. I’m sorry.” Eddie felt his throat tighten at your confession. You hadn’t behaved badly. You were just excited and maybe a little manic but he’d take those over this.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n/n. I shouldn’t have gotten upset, definitely shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you.”

“I would have been mad too.” If the roles had been reversed you would have been, you know that. Yet here he is consoling you, though you were in the wrong.

Maybe you were both a little wrong.

Lifting the corner of your makeshift fortress, you glance at Eddie. To your surprise he’s already looking at you, eyes filled with regret and smile forlorn.

“I should have realized-” Your sentence is cut short by rough knuckles tracing the line of your jaw.

“Hey. This isn’t all on you, I could have made my intentions clearer, doesn’t matter now though, can’t change what happened but we can both do better next time yeah?” You nod, turning your head to connect your lips with his warm skin.

“I’m sorry.” The words still feel like an important step towards bridging the gap between anger and forgiveness, though Eddie hadn’t made them feel necessary.

“Me too… you forgive me?” You can’t fight the giggle that escapes.

“f’course, do you forgive me?” He looks offended, almost appalled that you would even ask.  

“How could I not? Sweet thing like you? You got me wrapped around your finger.” The cheeky lightness that carries with his statement settles the left-over anxiety in your system. You knew the conversation wasn’t over, things would need to be talked through, solutions would need to be put in place, but for now? You were more than content to watch as your favorite boy picked up that perfect stuffy and decorated your face with delicate beaded nosed kisses.

[lostgracestories]

... Yeah, that brain train is chugging along. But Enemies to Lovers! I'm a sucker for that trope!

Anyhoo, what might your headcanons be for Enemies to Lovers, regarding - of course - the Omen Twins? 😅

My loyal omen obsessed pookie <3 I too am obsessed with enemies to lovers. Honestly, I think it's hard to imagine Mohg as an enemy (my cutie patootie <3) so I shall do my best. You know damn well I be eating up the Morgott/Tarnished enemies to lovers shit.

Anyways, I'm writing this is class so BEAR WITH ME <333 (I lowkey shifted into story mode again so eat it up loveys <3) SORRY NOT SORRY

wc: 808 tw: Mohg being obsessed with blood, violence, gore, Morgott being a pervert, is it 18+ if it's implied? idk

Sour Yet o, so Sweet

Mohg

Mohg had fought you tooth and nail, cutting you down each and every time you persistently rose from that ridiculous site of grace outside his mausoleum. Every time he caught the scent of your blood it drove him mad, his blood boiled. You had rambled about his dynasty being a sham, questioning his motives. He hated it. He hated you.

After a fight that had resulted in you above him, blade to his neck, his heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he gazed up at you. For a moment, he had forgotten that you were about to kill him. Mohg had to steel his wits before he just barely scraped by, knocking you down once more. Oh, he hated that feeling. He loathed how it felt to just look at you. putrid little dove...

Mohg found himself shocked when his chest began to ache in your absence. It had been months since you had attempted to fight him and knock him down. You had come so close. Mohg paced around, distraught over the feeling that was wrecking his psyche. He needed to fight you. Needed to see you. He needed to scent your blood, over and over as he pinned you beneath him... Oh... such a bittersweet feeling...

When Mohg saw you standing in front of him again, ready to fight after months of being apart, he was furious. How could you leave him? His putrid little dove... how dare you abandon him like you had. The fight was heated. Mohg rambled mindlessly over how vile you were, how much he hated you, and how dare you leave him for so long. The last comment caught you off guard and you stumbled back. He pinned your wrists against the floor as he loomed over you and for the first time, no one struck the other. No one tried to kill the other. Mohg watched the confused expression on your face as his face bent closer. "My putrid little dove" He'd snarl "What have you done to me" He would revel in the scream you let out as he sunk his fangs into you, if only to smell that sweet scent of your blood... Oh, how he hated you... but he loved it so much.

Morgott

Morgott could not stand you. How you rambled to him every time you came before him at the base of the erdtree. He loathed those wide doe eyes you gave him every time he sunk his shiny golden blades into your skin. He hated the noise that you let out, a faint whimper, as death took you over and over and over again. He wished you would just give up and quit your fruitless attempts at bringing forth an era of peace. He would be damned if he allowed you to destroy all he had left.

When you stopped coming before him to fight him, at first, Morgott was relieved. No more rambling about how cruel the world was and how you sought to fix it, no more wide doe eyes looking up at him, wet with tears... would you look that way for him? No, absolutely not. He would not dare to venture down such a degenerate spiral of thoughts and yet... he could not help but indulge himself in such thoughts.

As soon as you stood before Morgott again, something in the air between you had changed. Morgott did not lunge at you this time, he did not conjure any incanted weapons, and most curiously; his tail seemed to swish behind him... calmly. You refused to strike him if he did not attack first, he knew this, he was manipulating you accordingly.

You could not gauge how long you stood there until you realized that the look in Morgott's eye was hungry as he studied you from a safe distance. He was not scared of you, rather, he was scared of himself. What had befallen him to bring him to such degeneracy? Such thinking had no place in his mind. Not as a king and certainly not as an omen.

Morgott's hungry eyes wandered over your stomach and he imagined those wide doe eyes, staring up at him in shock as blood soaked his hand and incanted golden blade. The thought sent a prickle through his tail and up his spine, his blood boiling and running cold all at once. "Thou art a vile little seductress" he would claim, to your confusion, as he finally strode toward you, golden blade in hand. Perhaps, one more look at those big, wet eyes would ground him, pull him down from your ridiculous capture around his mind. Oh he hated you, loathed you. He wished you would stay dead and quit haunting his nightmares. Yet... the feeling that bubbled in his chest with the thought of you, despite it's ache, was so addicting... what a cruel fate...

[chickensarentcheap]

First some found questions:

What are a few of their inside jokes?

In what ways do they worry about each other?

How do they handle dividing up chores and household duties?

How do they fight for or defend the other?

Who takes more responsibility for their actions?

What habits do they have that makes the other unhappy? (Examples: angry outbursts, disrespectful judgments, annoying behavior, selfish demands, dishonesty, or apathy.)

What accomplishments do they most admire in each other?

What small physical details does each character love the most about the other?

What would each character be willing to change in his/herself for the other, and what wouldn’t they change?

1: goodness, do they even have any? I know they one they have and it started in the second fic was 'studying together' became code language for sex. After Ovi got a girlfriend and Millie ratted on him but said they were 'just studying' and Tyler was like 'that's what the kids call it these days'. Esme said that her and Tyler love to study together and that he's a great tutor. And he lamented about sometimes having to 'study alone' and not being the same lol

2: Tyler worries about her burning herself out and not taking care of herself enough. Esme is very much a mother hen and a care taker, and nurturing and caring for others is one of her love languages. But she neglects herself A LOT and he worries about that. But also takes the load off of her and gives her that mental health time she needs. Esme worries about his mental health issues, most of all. If he's taking his meds, not having any urge to drink or go back to the pain killers. And of course worries about him still sometimes taking a job himself. Her biggest fear is something happening to him while far from home and not even being able to bring the body back :(

3. They have several chore and duty charts hanging in the laundry room. For both the things they need to do, and the kids. Everyone gets assigned daily and weekly stuff, even mom and dad. Tyler handles the outdoor stuff and if things need to be fixed around the house. Esme is the gardener and baker and she tends to be the one that concentrates on laundry, inside cleaning. But the kids help out a lot and are expected to.

4. Don't you dare say anything negative about Tyler. Esme will rip you apart. He's not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but the way he works hard and often sheds blood, sweat and tears for their family is admirable. And she won't tolerate any disrespect towards him. And when he needed medical intervention (sent home from Dhaka2) she fought that hospital tooth and nail to get him out of there. Even after the original Dhaka when she barely knew him, she stayed by his side and refused to let them give up on him. Tyler, well he'll willingly put his body and life on line to protect Esme. And he will put her family in their places. The kids don't get away with disrespecting her either.

5. Definitely Tyler. Although it was something he had to learn. Not out of selfishness, but because for years he didn't have to worry about his words and actions hurting other people.

6. unfortunately, both tend to keep things from each other. As a way of protecting the other. And it annoys the hell out of both of them. Tyler used to have angry outbursts, but he's put a lot of work into controlling that kind of behaviour.

7. Esme definitely admires how he's built and managed the mercenary business. She's a silent partner and helps out in the office, but he does the majority of everything on his own. He's become very successful. And naturally she admires how he's beating his addictions every day and despite doing battle with his own mind 24/7 continues to a great husband and father. Tyler admires her strength and her tenacity. How she took care of him during such horrific times and how she continues to care for him. And of course, admires her mothering skills. She doubts herself, but she's a damn good momma.

8. He absolutely loves her freckles. She loves his scars. Her favourite is the one across the bridge of his nose.

9. Tyler changed the most I think out of the two of them. Having to deal with his addiction issues. One thing he won't change is how protective he is of her. Esme had to work to get past the trauma Mark caused her and rebuild herself again. She definitely wouldn't give up how caring and nurturing she is towards him. Even if he does call it babying lol

[kyluxtrashpit]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

I was tagged by @cut-off-the-grain thank you so much!

1. Under Construction, kylux. I have to rec this one because I’m still insanely proud of it and it is, without exaggeration, the best fic I have ever written. I know this lmao. It’s the longest too and it took SO much planning and fighting with it to get it just right. It is my love letter to Kylo as a character, kylux as a ship, and a big fuck you to the entirety of disney/lucasfilm who squandered so much lmao. Everything I could ever say about the character and the ship is said in this fic tbh. This story fought me tooth and nail every step of the way but I conquered, it’s here, and the 3.5 years I spent on it were worth it. Honestly I don’t know if I’ll ever write anything that good again lmao but I’m just happy it’s out there now

2. Little Black Turtleneck, serovolk. You know what, when it comes to questions of ‘what’s your best fic’, I tend to just pick like. The big ones. The long ones, the emotional ones, particularly tough ones. But like. Those also tend to be the most successful. People already know about them. And little silly ones like this, a humorous tale of a criminal trying to buy turtleneck sweaters? They’re fun lmao. I got my ‘big important fic’ represented in spot 1, so in spot 2 here’s a short silly one that makes me laugh

3.Crystalline Heart, Kylo gen fic. This one I wrote for a Kylo zine and like. No one fucking read it lmao, the fic I chose not to submit to the zine cause I didn’t like it as much was better received, but I still think it’s really good. There’s something about unusual storytelling, like using the POV of an inanimate object, that really speaks to me. I love that kind of thing. So I tried it out myself and I think it turned out pretty great

4. Folie à Deux, Yuma/Lera. I’m picking this one solely because it is so rare for me to find an f/f ship that really gets my motor running but this, this one? Goddamn. It hits so well. Have they ever met? Had any time on page together? Literally anything that would make me want to ship them? Nope lmao but that’s not gonna stop me. I need more mean lesbians and antagonistic horny femslash in my life and so that’s why this exists.

5. Fix You, kylux. I was scrolling through my list of works, trying to pick a fifth and this one jumped out at me for some reason. I’m not sure why. It’s just. It almost feels like a time capsule. It was written in 2019, you know, The Before Times, before 2020 and everything that’s happened since. Yet it intentionally has the vibes of an even older time, the mid 2016 to earl 2017 era. Yet another Before Times, but in a very different way. It’s just a small fic, nothing remarkable about it, yet it feels almost like it’s preserved. Something carried over. Idk. It’s just very, in my opinion, quintessential of a very particular flavour of kylux that is pretty much extinct now

Anyway ummm who do I know who writes that I can tag (with no pressure!). Let’s go with @eldritchmochi @kylosbreedingkink @bostarsky @nemesis-the-first and uh any writers who see this and want to do it cause I don’t remember who’s still around here lmfao

[coupsie-daisies]

Out of Step | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x GN!Reader

Genre: hurt no comfort, angst

Summary: Sometimes people aren’t meant to be together, no matter how badly it hurts to think about it, and sometimes the one is really just someone.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Breakups, fights, broken hearts, Chan cries, kinda dismissive Chan

A/N: I apologize once again to those of you that like hurt no comfort (especially those of you on my taglist)...I’m just a sucker for pain. Might turn this into a multi-part thing if people like it and want to see what happens

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726  // @wooyussy // @sunnytaes // @burningupp // @bunnypig18 // @ferrethyun // @tyungun // @brownieracha // @kwanisms

Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/hobi-is-golden, reposting on any platform without explicit permission is prohibited

"Why does it always feel like we're just out of step with each other?"

There had been a time when you'd wholeheartedly believed that you'd spend your life in Chan's arms. You'd fall asleep to the steady sound of his breathing, and you'd wake to his dimpled smile and his morning breath. There was a time when you'd sincerely believed that things would turn out to be a dream come true. Once upon a time, it was you and Chan against the world.

The saying 'if you love someone, you have to let them go' had never really made sense to you. If you loved someone, you fought tooth and nail to keep them close. You cried in the bathroom in the middle of the night so you wouldn't wake them from the only decent sleep they'd gotten in a week or more. If you loved someone, you broke yourself down to build them up when they needed it most, and if they didn't notice, that was okay. Once upon a time you could feel the light in your hands, but now it was pouring out through your fingers.

Falling in love with Chan had been almost too easy. He had the kindest heart of any man you'd ever met, and the intelligence to teach kindness to everyone he saw, in everything that he did. The day he asked you to go out with him was the best day of your relationship.

Like any relationship, yours had its ups and downs, only a few minor concerns at first. Every fight was resolved with an apology and a serious conversation, topped off with a make-up kiss. Nothing came between the two of you, neither of you would allow that to happen.

But everyone gets tired sometimes. Sometimes, when it's you against the world, sometimes you lose. Sometimes meals were left cold as you waited for him to come home from the studio. Sometimes you weren't priority number one. Or two. Sometimes neither was he.

You weren't entirely sure when things became irreparable. You didn't know when you'd reached the point of no return, where resentment began to cloud the love you'd grown comfortable in, but when the realization sunk in, you had fought harder than ever. You'd broken your own heart, trying to dig yourself out of the hole and bringing the dirt down on top of you instead.

"Is it really so bad to want a future with you?" You asked, begging him to listen to the desperation in your voice as you battled the truth in your own head. You threw your hands up in frustration. "I'm not trying to ruin your career, Christopher. I just want you to think about this."

"I can't do this right now," Chan sighed. That was always his answer nowadays, and it wasn't even really a lie. He saw it coming too, the inevitable end to the love the two of you had shared for nearly three years. You sighed. You really weren't trying to rush him into anything, but you were grasping at straws. Marriage seemed like a typical thing to discuss after being in a relationship for this long, it's not like you were asking him to propose tomorrow.

"I think you just don't want to be with me anymore," You snapped.

"Maybe I don't."

His words sucked the air out of your lungs. You both just stood there opposite one another. Just like that, all of the work you'd put into fixing the cracks, patching the holes, it all went up in smoke. Your entire world shifted. When you looked in his eyes, they didn't look any different. There was no big change, it wasn't as if you'd suddenly fallen out of love with each other. He just looked exhausted. You imagined you did too.

"You don't want to be with me?" You repeated back to him, utterly dumbfounded.

"I-" He looked away, tears welling in his eyes. And even despite the dagger he was digging into your stomach, you wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch his face, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. "Of course I want to be with you. I love you."

You looked at him again, trying not to get tripped up in the rubble of what you imagined to be your happily ever after. You'd never felt this cold and alone, especially not when you were with Chan. Your stomach was uneasy, and you were having trouble understanding him.

"But maybe we just...can't. Maybe we're just not ready. I'm sorry, but I think we need to be done."

And through the pain in your chest, you finally understood. There was growing left to do until you could fit your jagged pieces together with his. You two just didn't fit the mold.

For the first time, you truly understood what the saying meant, because you'd rather suffer a thousand years without him than be the reason he was crying like he was now, tears free falling down his cheeks, his breath coming out rough and desperate.

Every day after that became a little easier, the weight lifted off your chest, and your friends pampered you with days out to keep your mind off of things. But you still found yourself wondering from time to time. You wondered if he still got out of bed in the middle of the night to write down lyric ideas. You wondered if he still liked autumn evenings the best. You wondered if he had someone else to lay beside him now, or if he still thought about you the way you did him. And more than anything, when you felt especially alone in the world, you wondered if the two of you were more compatible now than you had been then. You wondered if he'd still kiss you awake, still write you silly little love songs. You wondered if he still held out hope like you did.

Or maybe, despite everything you'd shared, the two of you were destined to walk forever side by side and out of step.

copyright © 2022 hobi-is-golden, all rights reserved

[the-hedge-has-thorns]

Near the Beginning of the End

"I'm just sorry you had to find out this way." He speaks to me with an expression that is weary and appropriately apologetic. Like he had practiced it in the mirror night after night in preparation for the day it all came tumbling out.

Robert and I had been married for 9 years and he had just told me he had been cheating for the past 7. It was like he had dropped a bomb on our marriage, detonating wedding lace and diamonds into shrapnel that scored a direct hit.

I had suspected, but it wasn't until I had found the torn pantyhose stuffed under the seat in the car when I had gone out to clean it, that I knew for sure. It certainly wasn't mine - Robert had never been adventurous with me.

"You mean you're sorry I found out at all," I snapped, shoving the ruined hose at his chest. It knocked him back a step on our stoop, nearly down the steps.

He glanced around, his expression darkening as he looked back to me. "I didn't want to hurt you -"

"Hurt me?" I cut him off, the prickle of heat behind my eyes beginning to burn. I refused to cry though. To give him any of my tears. To let him tell me I was being hysterical when really, I was feeling downright murderous.

"No, I didn't. I made a mistake, Daisy. A big one." His words didn't line up with his demeanor. They didn't line up with his actions, but that one was a given. "Now let me in before the neighbors see or hear. They don't need to be a part of our little spat."

"Stay out there." I hissed. "Go sleep at her place since you like to go there so much." I slammed the door shut. Or…. tried. His fingers curled around the edge of it, forcing it open and me back. This time, I stumbled, nearly twisting my ankle because my heel wobbled.

He caught me before I fell, his fingertips digging into my arm with a possessive bite. "You deserve so much better…I'm so sorry Daisy." He pushed me to the couch and forced me to sit. "You deserve so much better."

I head his voice crack and I felt the hesitation in my chest. He knelt in front of me, his arms wrapping around my waist so he could press his head against my chest. "But I just can't let you go."

I shivered. Maybe he mistook it. His hands crept up my skirt, sliding past the hose and to the garters, unclipping them to trace the edge of my panties.

The urge to squeeze my knees shut was overwhelming, pressing in on his ribs as I grabbed at his hands. "I don't want you touching me. Not after all the women you've touched." The words came out like lava, hurled like boulders while my heart beat frantically in my chest.

Then there was heat flaring over my cheek, a sting of pain turning my vision blurry. My familiar living room with its floral curtains, the beige carpet, the ugly dark baseboard bubbled in and out of focus as I sucked in a sharp breath. The tears spilled despite myself, cold terror scraping at my ribs as I pushed myself up from having fallen onto my side. Hardly processing what had just happened.

Hard fingers in my jaw shoved me back down. "You're my wife. If I want to apologize this way, you'll take my apology, Daisy." Robert's voice had gone low, a serpentine hiss in my ear.

My mind was still scrambling and I didn't realize he'd dropped his slacks until he was pushing into me.

Never once I had ever thought this would be a situation I was in. Robert had always been the perfect gentleman. I always thought I'd have been stronger than what I was.

"You're so…" He was breathless. In. Out. In. Out. In and out. "You feel so good, Daisy."

I always thought I would have fought tooth and nail. Except I was frozen for the whole three minutes it took. And the five minutes after it took for him to fix himself, no remorse in his eyes.

I don't know how long I stayed on that couch, my skirts hiked up around my hips. It wasn't until I heard noise that I stirred. "Daisy! Where's dinner?"

I was to blame.

I let people take advantage of me.

I was in the wrong.

I was just something to be used, and he had reminded me.

[winksasleeplesseye]

Angel of Darkness - Chapter Preview

I haven’t forgotten AoD! I do have the next chapter almost ready to post but for now I’ll provide a chapter preview with just a bit of the beginning! I’ll keep it short but the rest will be up tomorrow!

Reunio

1999

The wallpaper was a bit dated, gaudy for sure. All of it in its 70s glory. The floral green upholstered couches and almost painful salmon pink of the accents and decor made Amara’s eyes hurt.

Paired with the two suits currently occupying the couches. They looked just about excited as postmen at Christmas. Only here out of obligation to the young girl temporarily staying here. It’d been a tough first year, reestablishing normalcy to a girl who’d had less than a normal life proved to be far more difficult than expected. Another reason they’d called her here, beyond their allotted visits.

The older woman, Mrs. Hoffman, was sweet but one could tell she ran her home with a tad bit of an iron fist. If it wasn’t already clear, this woman was strict to Sherry.

Treating her as though what laid inside her could be fixed.

Stupid. Fucked up, really.

They’d become two of a kind. Amara knew what it was like to be uprooted quite often, never quite having stability to really put much stock into making friends, sure, she’d try but never quite knowing when they’d be off to the next place made it hard to keep in touch.

Sherry had been in limbo, both Amara and Claire argued that this much moving around didn’t do much for her.

Amara leaned against the doorframe, Sherry not yet made aware of her being there as she rummaged through a storage container of cassette tapes. Even from her sitting position on the floor, Amara could tell she’d hit a bit of a growth spurt in her absence.

The soft melody of an older song played in the cassette player as Sherry clicked it on. The Jackson Five.

Hmm, she was impressed that Sherry even knew them.

The song was Got to Be There. Huh, how fitting.

“Aren’t you a little young to be listening to such old songs?” Amara makes her presence known, the smile Sherry wore is enough to make her have one in return.

Pushing herself off the ground, she practically jumped into her arms. “Amara!”

“Sherbear! Careful now, my ribs are still bruised from the last hug you gave me,” she jested, ruffling her hair. “How’s Hoffman treating you?”

“Like a fucking dictator.” There’s a particular heavy emphasis on the curse word. It was definitely new to her.

“Hey, watch that language.”

“Sorry. It’s just—“

“Yeah, I know.”

They wanted her here to quell Sherry’s frustrations with going from place to place. One could say she was essentially in the system. Considering how this country operated, no one wanted to be there but Sherry had a strange predicament to start. The cards didn’t really line up in any of their favors.

Unfortunately, soon enough, she’d be under the care of Derek C. Simmons.

It was the last option the government had. Amara had fought tooth and nail with the decision but there wasn’t much leverage on her part. Couldn’t exactly go against her own deal, really.

That man in question had something about him that made her stomach turn. He was like Irons 2.0, a general creepy vibe radiated from him that she didn’t like. He seemed the last person qualified to truly care for Sherry.

“When am I gonna get to stay with you?” She has a puppy dog look in her eyes. “I’ve never been more bored in my life.”

“Sorry kiddo, but I still have no idea,” Amara answered honestly, shoving a hand into her pocket. She didn’t want to crush the girl’s hopes. Wait. She almost forgot. “Sheesh, Sherry, your keychain!”

“Where from this time?”

Sherry had developed a strange knack for collecting keychains much like a mother collecting mugs from her kids in their many travel adventures. Amara thought it sweet and just about the funnest thing to pick up on her missions, the others assigned with her would make fun that she’d take the time to stop into the most touristy places just for a “silly” keychain but to see Sherry’s eyes light up as she looked over the fun designs made it worth it.

“Italy, can’t you tell by the moped?” Amara pointed out the cartoon, an over-exaggerated man speeding away on his blue Vespa and the damn near kismet colors of brown cobblestone streets against a teal-blue skyline on it made it one of the more artistic keychains she’d picked out for the girl.

Sherry, a little too perceptive for her own good, seemed to notice Amara’s overall demeanor underneath the smile she wore.

“I’m not staying here much longer, am I?”

“You know, in another life, I’d like to think you’d be a detective the way you pick up on so much,” Amara sighed with a sad smile, going down to eye level with the girl.

“When?”

Her head hanged low, she can’t say it…not directly anyway, not while seeing the sadness that would spring to the girl’s eyes.

“Next week. With Simmons.”

Amara inevitably looked on the bright side. Having someone as “important” as Simmons as her guardian guaranteed that no perceived threats could get close to the girl. The only threat that she could think of was Wesker (only second to the very government themselves). After the mansion incident and RC, Wesker’s body had never been recovered so that formed the only logical conclusion to come to that he still walked among the living.

“He gives me the creeps,” Sherry fiddled with a loose hem on her t-shirt, “a lot of creeps.”

“I won’t fight you on that, kiddo. But, he’s just about the safest option for you now and you know Claire and me fought hard on that choice.” Amara explained. “There’s a quote I heard once that went a bit like this…in any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.”

“This feels like the wrong thing.” Her voice is small.

“It’s better than nothing, right?” Amara noted. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to just up and leave and never see you again. You’ll always have me, we are two of a kind after all.”

[stardust-sunset]

WOOF i got lazy- anyway, here’s my stick of truth oc! her names bambi :)

Lore under the cut

So! She’s a mage, kinda a made up species? i don’t have a name for it so for now ill be referring to them as “mages”.

Childhood:

So every mage has a power or two. They’re interested. So say a parent has fire magic and the other has ice magic the kid will have fire and ice magic. So with Bambi, her mother was a weather mage and her father was a size manipulator. But sometimes, there can be birth defects that affect the child’s magic. In this case, instead of being able to control the weather at will, her emotions contradict it. (Ex. Happy? Sunny. Sad? Rain. Mad? Storms. So on and so forth.) But it doesn’t just happen outdoors. It can happen indoors too. Her parents tried to manage it, but were unsuccessful. She had caused massive droughts and massive floods, so the mages essentially exiled her thinking it would fix the problem. She was around thirteen at that point, and her parents weren’t very willing to do it, but the leader of the mages had thretened to execute them and her so they had to do what was best. Her size manipulation ability tends to fluctuate out of control with big emotions as well but she has to be touching an object or thing, so if someone were comforting her during a panic attack, the size manipulation might kick in and she would grow or shrink them. Such incidents led to her being known as the “Unhinged One” or simply “Bambi the Unhinged.

Teenage years:

In her teenage years, she was found by two female elves named Ivy and Willow, who were a couple. They took her in in secret, because mages and elves had a huge rivalry in the past and they were seen as “cunning” and were not trusted, not in the same way as elves and humans, but there wasn’t exactly a good relationship between the two if that makes sense? So these two elves stumbled upon her, and were wary at first, but realized she basically had no one, and ended up taking her in, because they didn’t really see her as a threat, more so as a hurt child. Eventually Kyle finds out and gets pissed, threatening her with another exile, but Willow and Ivy convince him otherwise Instead, she has to prove her loyalty by fighting tooth and nail for the elves, which she does. Eventually, after the fatal fight where Kyle loses both of his parents to war (I’ll probably elaborate on this headcanon later), Bambi ends up being one of the lone survivors and had truly fought tooth and nail to defend his parents. As a reward, he appointed her as one of his advisors and they quickly become pretty close. That’s all I have for now but I’ll add on as I figure out more with her.

Side bit:

At sixteen, all mages go through a process called the “Trials of the Mage” where they basically go through a stage where they grow wings, horns, and their powers grow exponentially stronger. And I already have some pretty angsty thoughts for this-so just you wait lol

lmk if you like her/have any questions because i’d love to answer them!! ^^

[sisi-halloway]

Are You Happy?

@id13vil

The forest canopy made a sort of terrarium for the two lovers.

The lovers who didn't even know they were lovers.

"How long has it been now, Shu?"

His brown eyes wandered into the stars while his mind wandered to their first meeting place.

Outside... in this very forest funnily enough.

He had been wandering from place to place for a year, maybe more. In name, he was a swordsman, a scholar, and everything in between. By trade, he was a nomad with everything to give from a place that no longer needed what he had to offer. So he wandered until he found her.

Her.

Isabella Zieragh.

Brown hair that fell like a waterfall of bronze in the sun. A smile that could outshine that sun. A delicate form that has fought a war against itself with metal and won.

She was a small girl with a big heart and so much to give.

And to him she did.

She gave him a small smile and asked him what he was doing alone in the forest like that.

"And I thought I was the only one who liked being alone in the woods..."

Shuhei looked at her with a curiosity that questioned how she could meet a stranger with such openness. He admired the way the tassels of her long skirt danced around her ankles.

"I'm a traveler." He said this simply.

He towered above her like a redwood with skin just as rough and russet. His eyes were slender, but soft when he looked at her. He didn't mean her any harm. Quite the opposite.

"So you say," Isabella quips. She looks into a crochet bag on her shoulder, then back at him.

"Where are you from?"

"Somewhere far away."

"And where are you traveling to?"

"Anywhere that might make good use of me."

Isabella gives him a once-over before turning and walking away. He watches her for a moment, analyzing her gait.

Like she's learned to walk twice.

"Well, come on. Town's this way. I know someone who might be able to make use of you."

With wary hesitation, Shuhei followed the young woman. This was the first time he's ever walked behind her. He didn't know how often he'd come to walk behind her. He'd find a strange sanctuary walking behind this woman. That was what he didn't know.

She looked back at him with an earnest half-smile and a thoughtful gaze. Green youth had fought tooth and nail to share that young woman's eyes with whatever tried to make them dark.

"You know how to build a barn?"

Shuhei looked up at the hill that all the lumber sitting atop. It was like the wooden house a wolf had blown down once.

He turned back to the blond-haired man who had his sleeves rolled up. His hands were on his hips as he questioned the newcomer.

"I've built a few," Shu said humbly. He's built more than a few.

The man rubbed his sunkissed neck and shifted his weight on his hips.

"A few is more than I've done. It's a big ask, but you're willing to help?"

Shuhei nodded. This task wasn't too different from things he's done in other places. He's no stranger to catching loose pigs or fixing roofs. He's gone on fishing boats, hunting trips, and expeditions for lost children. Building a barn didn't seem like too big of an ask.

"Yes, I'll help. It should take the summer if we make good time."

With that, the man stepped forward and offered his hand.

"Well, let's have it up before Mabon then. With your help, I think it'll be doable. Thank you for the offer. Name's Thomas."

Shuhei bowed before taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Shuhei. It's nice to meet you."

Isabella was fondly watching them. She was happy this barn would finally get proper attention.

Her brother struggled to find the time for the barn, considering all the hours spent at the workshop. Whatever daylight he had left, he wanted to dedicate to his partner instead of grappling with a task that seemed impossible. Another set of hands would make the world of a difference.

And it was Shuhei and Thomas and that barn for three months. Skin was tanned and slicked with sweat. Hands were calloused and made tough. Lots of lemonade was made and drank. Lots of water was poured over heads and shirtless backs. And bonds grew strong between strangers.

"I haven't counted days, but three seasons at least..."

He and Isabella lay on the plush ground cover made of grass, moss, and new spring flowers. They stared up at the sky. They did this when there was nothing left to do in civilized society. They would leave their little house in the meadow to come deep into the forest and feel its embrace. Isabella felt more at home out in nature than she's ever felt between four walls. He's known that for a long time.

He learns more about her every day.

"Three seasons... It doesn't feel like that long. Does it feel like that long, Shu?"

Shuhei closed his eyes and remembered. He hasn't counted days, but he remembers almost every single one. What Isabella had worn, what songs she'd sung, what color her eyes had been. Some days they were the same, and some days they were different, but Shuhei remembered.

Today she wore a dress. This dress dragged the ground when she walked. She'd pinned it up with these antique pins with butterflies on them. Butterflies reminded Shu of Isabella, and Isabella reminded him what happiness could be.

She didn't wear shoes when they came out to the forest. Why would she? She couldn't feel the earth's breath like that. What she'd done was hop onto Shu's back as he walked across the creek. He'd held her as they walked so deep into the forest, the light of the town couldn't reach there. She hummed "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" while they went.

Here they were, laying side by side, their hands almost touching.

"No... but when you're happy... the time spent is worth more."

Isabella turned her head to look at him. She could barely see it in the crescent moon's silvery glaze. Shuhei was hypnotized by the sky it seemed. He seemed to see so much more than what was there. Isabella wondered what he was seeing up there.

"Well... yeah, I guess you're right."

Shuhei was always this way. He was a river, calm and unassuming. His soul was deeper and older than you'd ever suspect.

She remembered when Thomas offered to pay him for his help.

"That's kind, but it won't be necessary."

Isabella looked at him like he'd grown wings.

"You'd work with this wingnut for free? You don't know him, but I do. You'd best take the money."

Thomas shot his joking sister a playful glare.

"With her jokes aside, I'd think it proper to pay you. You're a stranger helping me out of no obligation. I'd feel better-"

Shuhei bowed and shook his head.

"That's... what I do. I don't require payment. Just a place to eat and sleep will be enough."

That was Shuhei's whole purpose that he'd made for himself. He was a traveling miracle searching for enlightenment. He didn't need monetary compensation. He'd hope he'd find his purpose this way. His whole existence has revolved around currency for as long as he's had autonomy. He wouldn't spend another second working in exchange for the money he did not need. He was searching for something more.

Thomas was skeptical. A man with no desire for means was strange indeed. He looked at Isabella warily.

"We have a stable, but you'd have to share it with a horse."

Shuhei smiles.

"There are worse things. Thank you."

And so Isabella would bring him blankets on that first night, making it as comfortable as she could.

"Are you sure about this? You shouldn't have to sleep out here, you know?"

Shuhei takes the blankets graciously, laying them out over the hay.

"I'm sure. You don't know me here, and it's kind that he even offered me this. A stranger staying in your home is a risk. One he was willing to take, so I'm grateful."

Isabella blows her bangs from her eyes.

"Well suit yourself... if this gets too much, you can always squat at the tavern. I know the owner, and he won't mind if he knows you're helping us out."

Shuhei looked at the way the lantern light cast like warm honey on her face. The shadows of the moths flittering about its metal cage were like a whirlwind of autumn leaves on the sunset of her cheek.

Shuhei bows to her before setting his sword beside him on the ground.

"I'll keep that in mind."

But he never stayed at the tavern.

There was a turn of events, arguably one of the things Shuhei's been so adamantly searching for.

Thomas' love was part of Shuhei's story long ago. They had been friends, no, more. They'd been family. The only thing they had left from their time together was the pain of diaspora and broken crystal memories. When she'd seen him for the first time, maybe a week after he'd come, she'd dropped what she held in her hands. Shuhei remembered. It was a vase of lilies. It clattered to the ground as she covered her mouth, doing the same. Tears leaped from her eyes like geysers of relief. Shuhei couldn't remember the last time he'd cried before that.

Thomas was closer to killing Shuhei then than he'd ever been. She had to explain through her tears that he was not her enemy. He'd never hurt her.

As she knelt there in Thomas' arms with Shuhei's clothes in her hands, she told him that they were kept apart by a force she never wanted to talk about. She explained to Thomas that she and Shuhei shared blood and the same lost home.

After that, Shuhei felt a piece of him awaken. A piece of him, long since dead, felt a year's worth of rain in a single afternoon. Revitalized and renewed, this was the first dose of healing that Maeth had given him.

He still preferred to sleep in the stable after that, much to Salice and Thomas' protests. While he built that barn, Shuhei found that he was also building a family.

Shuhei wove a web of love. Reunited with his sister, Shuhei found that Thomas became more like a brother. He found that Isabella had become more like a friend. And Maeth had become more of a home.

From the stable to the new barn, his sleeping arrangements become more comfortable. Soon it was Isabella climbing the ladder to his loft room to tell him about her day's happenings. Soon it was Shuhei climbing down the ladder to join her in those happenings. Soon it was Shuhei sleeping on the floor in her living room. And now it was Shuhei sleeping beside her.

"What do you mean?"

Isabella picked his brain. He wasn't going to speak in vague metaphors and riddles tonight, although she'd come to understand most of them by now.

Shuhei felt a firefly crawl onto his arm. He held still so it wouldn't fly away.

"I mean that when you're happy... the time is more meaningful, no matter how long it's been."

Isabella feels the caress of the foliage against her cheek as she gazes at him.

"And you're happy here?"

Shuhei has never doubted that not even for a second. She can see that certainty in his eyes when he turns to look at her.

"The happiest I've ever been."

When Isabella's hand brushes his, he doesn't hesitate to softly intertwine his fingers with hers. She freezes before embracing his touch. He could feel the air before her mouth disturbed by her content sigh.

As a wanderer, Shuhei had always intended to leave this place. Isabella had known that too.

But every day, with every laugh they shared, he lost the will to carry on wandering. He lost the self-torturing idea that all his love should be without cost. He deserved love with no condition or prerequisite. That was the trade he'd finally discovered was the right one. Upon figuring this out, Shuhei lost the insatiable hunger for enlightenment. Because with every day, and every laugh they shared, it had become more evident...

That he'd already found it.

[voicesandthoughts]

Some things I actually wanted to say when you called on Christmas

You know solid ground is something I need

but I didn't ask for stability, just that you'd stay with me

Still, you dug a grave then drug us out

spread as thin as your indecisive fate

You wouldn't pick up the phone or show me into your home

You wouldn't make a choice or let me into your wavering voice

Still, You know I buried my bones in yours

I could feel every little break

but you pushed me out and became a pretender

left me washed out by the crypt

I just needed something, the smallest sip

the promise we can recover, or that I'm still the only contender

but it would be a lie and you didn't want to even try to fix it

I subscribed to a falsity, that you'd grow old with me

but you didn't even have the strength to let it go gently

you didn't have time to remember our remedies

you couldn't live any longer without being without me

So you shattered everything left in one blow

In a rush to leave behind every piece of me you made scattered

Not even ripping off the bandage yourself, that there would be no afterglow

That the bomb had gone off for good

I fought tooth and nail to keep myself alive

and sold my soul for a littlest shreads of hope

I gave all I had and you ran with it all

If you'd known me at all you'd know I needed help letting go

Had you any empathy, you'd know it was fair to leave me alone in our world

you were scared, I know, but I had your back

Why not even a full explanation to replace the bones you couldn't give back

Why did you make me grow everything from scratch

Your potential, glossing over gaping cracks

A new heart every week, until it no longer matched the one you held

Forgive my anger, but you praised my will to fight

so I tore through your labyrinth and spent my nights following half connected dots

Each thread I found embedded itself and wore me down

Until I stood before you, completely diminished

My sculptor of weariness, you chiseled my very soul away

and when I pulled away, I was condemned for seeking escape

That was the start of this war being finished

I retired everything I was, you wouldn't recognize my soul's shape today

and I won't ever fit in your palm again

It's taken this long but I've forgave you of the mistakes, however unchanged

But no matter how long you can't take back what I gave you

[headspace-hotel]

Fuck that. I absolutely have the right to criticize people who have done nothing but sit around and complain in their online echo chamber, and then decide “welp, time for molotovs and guillotines.”

If you read my posts more carefully, you would realize a crucial truth:

We are on the same side of this

First of all, "execute all the people in power and start over" is a different thing than "violent protest." People call even destruction of property violent. There are levels. That is important.

Secondly—I cannot stand the people who think violently overthrowing the government will automatically fix everything. They haven't thought about infrastructure. They haven't studied history.

I actively detest the sentiment among certain USamericans that "voting does nothing, don't bother voting." Voting, especially in local elections, can make things materially better for people in your community. At the very least it doesn't hurt. Vote. Don't only vote, but fucking hell, don't pitch a fit about feeling criticized or whatever for not voting when people fought tooth and nail to give you that right in the first place, and politicians are fighting tooth and nail to take it away any way they can. I live in a state where 9% of the population is LEGALLY disenfranchised. Read history and read the fucking room.

But I am still firm on this—history tells us that violence is on the way when a people has been unhappy with their oppressive government for many many years. I would LIKE to avoid violent unrest and upheaval but it is something that happens when other means of petitioning the government have not worked.

For me personally, it is incredibly hard to support or condone the extreme version of this—complete violent upheaval— when the likely consequences will be devastating. If the US government crumbled, we would end up under the control of the fascists. Y'all realize that, right?

I am not on the same side of the "revolution is the only way" people. Have y'all been paying any attention to the January 6 hearings? We had an actual attempt at a coup less than 2 years ago. I grew up in the Bible Belt embedded deeply in a nest of terrifying whackos. At least one person I personally knew participated in the attempted coup.

One of the USA's main political factions is dominated by theocratic fascists involved to varying degrees in a batshit crazy conspiracy cult, and these people have more guns than probably any other group of civilians in the world. They are better organized, more galvanized and a MILLION times better armed than everyone else. Electoral politics has one saving grace if it has anything, and that's keeping these people occupied.

I firmly believe we need to be forming support networks, building our own community infrastructure so everyone will have someone to call on when the shit hits the fan. We seriously need to start organizing in ways that let people access food and medicine and fresh water when infrastructure breaks down.

Yesterday our electricity was out for nearly 5 hours after a windstorm. What would happen in a scenario where there was no one to mobilize teams to get out and fix the problem? The systems that sustain life in America are a crumbling, dilapidated joke. Our infrastructure genuinely has the potential to kill millions in a disastrous scenario where people have to travel long distances to get help. Highways will get backed up, people will be stranded, and there will be nothing for miles around because 93% of the land in this country is The Middle Of Nowhere.

My posts about this are referring to the entirely compatible truth that "peaceful" protests are a display of power and a threat display to the people in power, and when more peaceful means of protest are ignored, things get more violent. This is not a judgment I'm making, this is just how it goes. And ultimately, the ability to protest peacefully is connected to the potential to protest more violently—it's a chance for the people in power to course correct before things get worse.

Under ideal circumstances, peaceful protest would be sufficient. But the responsibility is on our leaders to listen. If they don't listen, fear for the future and desperation will drive people to more and more radical action. Again, this is just a thing history teaches us.

One last thing: I have made this mistake in the past, for sure, but never assume that someone you see posting online is not involved with activism in real life. If you don't see evidence of their real life activism, it just means they're being smart and not posting about it online.

[reilliane]

waah im a new reader and i saw your hcs abt ayato and vigil!mc,, do u have more vigil bonuses but in the eyes of the kamisatos from when they find out mc has died?

A new reader? Well come, come, sweetie ♪(´▽｀)

Here have some 🍵, and some sweets while you're at it 🍪🍰

NOW WE SHALL PROCEED! ONWARDS! This actually got pretty long-

Complete and utter horror is the first thing that befalls the Kamisato siblings — more so on Ayato, who has come upon the scene himself following the dispatch of a member in the Shuumatsuban.

It was carried out so suddenly; the Order of the Shogun unto the Kaedeharas. Daresay, it was ridiculous, for a punishment to extend unto an innocent. Everyone thought the same but of course, no one would admit it out loud.

Contrary to when Vigil!MC was still the heiress, when there were plenty at her beck and call, servants and suitors alike, the scene Ayato saw was nothing similar to history.

The people MC genuinely befriended, from her suitors to elders, flock about the humble abode where MC's body lay in a pool of dried blood. But they do not go closer.

Actually, they retain this good distance away, and when the arriving Shogunate told them to scram in raucous bellow, no one objected. It was sickening to see.

How the people MC genuinely cared for are so quick to back away, but Ayato supposes that he can understand why; it's of fear.

They planned to take her corpse, the Shogunate, unequivocally to burn it in the flames or to throw it in the raging sea—as they did to those who had the valiance to protest the authoritarian rule.

Ayato fought tooth and nail to claim MC's body. Going as far as to speak against the Tenryou Commission himself when usually it would be his sister who would entertain meetings.

Tomo's was an easy case, but the lady was a convoluted one, given she was the sibling of a fugitive. But that was not a fixed hurdle that he cannot maneuver through.

Sara herself was the one who entertained Ayato's behests in a conclave.

Although her face was as impassive as ever, it was betrayed by a modicum of strain in her voice. In the end, she granted him the right to 'claim' the body.

it was an odious term to use, but alas, the fact remains that the Kaedehime is now but a vessel without a soul.

Two great friends in long years, two great losses in one day.

The Kamisatos—and Thoma—doesn't think the pain of bereavement can get any worse than it is, but they all know that somewhere in the tumultuous sea, someone else grieves and laments harsher.

Ayato can't bear to imagine how Kazuha feels after all of this.

Deciding the burial site for the bodies isn't supposed to be intricate as they hypothesized, but it is. Maybe it's because criminals—no matter [Name]'s actual innocence—aren't meant to have any vestiges nor memorials in Inazuma.

Whosoever defies the word of the Almighty Shogun must therefore be prepared to be forgotten. The bygones, the departed, they've all either come to be with the sea or the ashes.

The Kamisatos, however, have fortunately passed yet another tribulation in life's trials.

The body of Kaedehara [Name], the renowned Kaedehime in her days, they've managed not to be sullied by either flame or water.

In truth, the site they've chosen to bury her—along with Tomoaki—could've been grander, more fitting for a character such as she.

But going against the stipulations will further jeopardize them. Sara has already been lenient, they do not think that her mercy can bend that much further than she allows it to.

It's only the siblings along who attended the burial—and the servants who tended to the site, perhaps. Thoma has already gone.

It's raining when they send their prayers, voiceless only on the outside, but in their psyche their thoughts are deafening. Filled with a cacophony of guilt-ridden sorries and desperate wishes for a pleasant journey to the realm past life.

The young maiden, Kamisato Ayaka, has nothing but delightful memories shared with [Name]. They've always bonded together nicely—daresay she admits that the latter is her closest friend.

Indeed, becoming aware of the news—the order—too late has rendered her motionless in denial. At least, until she is now kneeling upon the small mound of land next to another, her hands clasped in prayer and lips tremoring in an attempt to keep her composure.

Rarely does she weep, and even rarer does her brother.

Kamisato Ayato, the current clan leader. One will mistake the blankness of his visage for indifference, and the water on his cheeks to be mere rain, but those are far from being correct.

Peer closer, maybe, and you will see how his eyebrows are scrunched in the slightest and his smile is weighing heavier than normal. Perhaps if you even touch his cheek, you will notice how the gloss of water doesn't stream from the downpour, but from his own eyes.

Unlike Tomo's grave which has his sword as a remembrance of his presence, the one beside his, [Name]'s, has none.

Of course, they can always just retrieve something from the Kaedehara assets to place as a memento, but nothing no such object can epitomize the person such as [Name].

Other than the bouquet of dendrobiums nearby along with the draping crystalflies, the grave remains bare. Too bare.

No one will even know who it's for and that's just... wrong.

“For Kazuha, I only wish him the bliss of life.”

The Vision Hunt Decree has to end. That thought is much recognized by the Kamisato siblings as they pay their respects for the final time.

But with the way things are now, they will not stand against the rule of the Shogun. More lives will be lost—but they can hope for a future.

For a change.

“And though it sounds like an impossible dream; a place where there are no worries. Just the nice things, won't that sound pleasant?”

bonus angst because angst:

A nice change, a pleasant change.

When the Kamisatos return to the site, the hope they've been withholding has blossomed into reality.

When the Kamisatos return to the site, they are also accompanied by a few more friends that are witnesses to the upended reality.

A reality that's so saccharine it almost feels like it is attempting to redeem itself from its tragedies

Their glorified hero, the Traveler in all his golden glory, does not bother to hide his sympathy—the loss of a sibling is something he can't bear to imagine—towards the ronin.

The ex-fugitive, dearest younger brother of the departed; Kaedehara Kazuha.

He weeps like he's reliving the day he saw his sister die in his arms and cries out her name like the child he once was when everything was alright.

Both Ayato and Ayaka continue to be sorry for hearing the Shogun's order too late because maybe they could've saved their friend. But there is one thing they are truly aware of, as they witness the Kaedehara—the only one left—crumble apart.

Their sorrow cannot compare to the samurai, and to this, they can only offer whatever consolation they can—even if they too, are in a state of loss.

[mimzy-writing-online]

hi! I'm considering writing a fic where as well as Max surviving and going blind post-Vecna, Eddie survives but has been blinded by the demobats, and the two of them dealing with that (along with, yk, everything else they'd be dealing with trauma-wise) both separately/differently, and also becoming friends handling it together. neither of them being blind would be the *primary* focus of the fic but it would obviously be a pretty major component

do you think this can be handled appropriately by a non-blind writer if researched well or should I go ahead and scrap the idea? (idk how to word that question in a way that sounds sincere and not just like, begging for validation, but genuinely)

I think it can, which is why my blog is here, to make it more possible for writers to achieve that. I'm also excited of the idea of a story where both Max and Eddie are blind.

The Medical details

I think one thing I would like to see is them having different types of vision loss. I know a lot of people are going to look at Max's eyes in her last scenes and think she's gone completely blind from Vecna, but I think it's possible she has some light perception remaining. The cloudy look reminds me of cataracts, and even with severe cataracts patients have a lot of remaining vision.

If Max's blindness functions like cataracts then she's going to have significantly blurred vision that glasses cannot fully fix. She will be sensitive to bright light, therefore finding it painful. She might also experience double vision and reduced color vision. Movement will be easier to track than identifying still objects.

As for how Eddie goes blind, you could go a couple of different routes. I think infection of some kind is the most likely thing to happen. He literally got bit to hell by Upside-Down world bats, he's bleeding, those are conditions for a shitty infection and severe fever. A severe infection will come with a lot more consequences than just vision loss, so I recommend some research.

Beyond the medical aspects, there's 80s era rehabilitation to consider. Good news, we have canes and guide dogs and schools for the blind. If Dr. Owens and give government connections are still in tact in your fic, you can use him as an avenue to connect Max and Eddie to the services they need. Nancy and Joyce are also two resourceful women who, when the state fails them, will haul ass to research all the resources Max and Eddie need. They'll be able to identify the nearest schools for the blind, get in touch with doctors, etc.

Max and Lucas' relationship

So a hallmark of season four was Lucas worrying about Max and being by her side as much as he could. It's endearing in this context because Max doesn't know how much time she has left and she wants to spend it with people she loves. But in season three Max made herself perfectly clear about how she felt about over-protective boyfriends telling her what her limits are. She's the one that fought Mike tooth and nail to make him see Eleven as her own person who knows her limits better than anyone and to start facing where that insecurity comes from.

She will love Lucas being there for her. She won't love having him fuss over her like she's weak and fragile and any rough movement could break her. Even if objectively she's in a point of recovery where she has to take it easy and she is vulnerable to reinjury, she doesn't want that to be how anyone sees her. And if Lucas knows her as well as she thinks he does, he knows that she's going to work to get as much of her independence back as possible.

She will push past her actual limits as she goes through the process of learning what those limits are, but that's a necessary step.

When it comes down to it, people should respect Max's bodily autonomy and not make decisions for her safety without consulting her.

[thatgoblin]

Leon x GN!Reader Struggling with Selfharm

TW: Self Harm, talk of self harm. Please keep tags if reblogging to keep tw.

Requested by @interviewedchicken

The mission had gone badly. No, it had gone horrifically sideways. It was still considered a success due to the fact that you were able to stop the spread of the infection, but it was at a high cost. Too high in your opinion. The feeling of guilt was something you had tasted before, small bits here and there over the years as you dabbled in different vices to keep it as bay, but this time it was swallowing you whole.

Why had you survived? Why did you get the pat on the back after watching your team, your friends, ripped to shreds by monsters as you tried desperately to save them? There hadn't been any hope in getting to them in time to stop the infection from turning them.

You had to control the infection no matter what.

No matter what.

Sitting on the couch of the apartment you shared with your friend Leon, you began to question if what you had done was right. You had fought tooth and nail to get through the hordes, running out of bullets, turning to use your gun as a hammer to smash heads as you forced your way towards the labs that held the cure. If you had just fought harder, pulled your team by their hand, maybe some of them would be alive.

"Hey."

You hadn't noticed that the TV was off as you stared at it till Leon was walking through the front door with food. Taking a deep breath, you wet your suddenly dry lips with your tongue, wiping your shaky, sweaty palms on your pants before standing.

"Hey," you replied, feeling sick to your stomach at the scent of food. It was your favorite from your favorite place. Leon must have heard what happened. The incident hadn't been disclosed entirely, glossing over everything to sum up in a few words.

'Lab accident contained by federal agents.'

No details about what happened or who died, your team or the scientists, or even what caused it. It was deemed classified and while that hadn't stopped you and Leon from swapping stories of other missions, it meant he didn't have much information other than the basics as well, if not a bit more than that the mission had casualties.

"I stopped to get us dinner. Figured neither of us would be cooking tonight," Leon said as he set the food on the dining room table.

"Yeah, good idea," you said with a nod. The numbness was creeping in steadily, starting with your face and forearms and thighs. Your fingers twitched, needing that fix you had worked so damn hard to kick. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna go take a shower real quick though."

"Alright, take your time," he said. "You've had a rough mission, you can take it easy for the next few days."

"Yeah," you said, wanting to ask for help, to spill everything to him. If anyone understood it would be Leon, but you stopped yourself. It wasn't fair to burden him after he's already been through so much. You would carry your load yourself. It was better that way.

Going to your room, you grabbed a change of clothes before stepping into the bathroom. Locking the door behind you, you swallowed hard as your breathing became shaky. Tears burned your eyes as you held tight to the bathroom counter, trying to talk yourself out of it, but the more you thought, the more the numbness spread and the guilt was thriving in it.

Breaking one of Leon's plastic razors, you were careful with the blades. You only needed one and didn't want to cut your fingers, ironically. The cuts needed to be hidden, where no one could see or guess. You didn't have a lover or partner, so no one would see you naked and Leon and you were never without a shirt and pants on at least around one another.

The tops of your thighs would be a good place, but that would be a problem with the slacks you had to wear. You had plenty of long sleeved shirts and had grabbed one, so you settled on the back of your arm near your elbow.

Wrapping medical tape around one end of the blade, you forgot that the shower wasn't running, tipping Leon off that there was something wrong.

Peeling your shirt off, you sat on the toilet as you held your makeshift knife. A short stroke with light pressure was the start. It wasn't supposed to go so far. One short, light line turned into another longer, deeper line. Blood pooled and ran down your arm as you methodically ran the blade over your skin.

The pain was refreshing, making you feel in control and chased the numbness and guilt away. Six lines for six teammates. You could breathe again, setting the knife aside as you felt your chest unclench and take in the air your lungs were thirsty for.

"Y/N?" Leon called, knocking on the door.

The numbness and guilt were gone now, replaced by shame and embarrassment. Hiding the knife, you turned on the shower before getting up to get the door. Standing behind it, you held your arm behind you as you opened the door a bit.

"Yeah, hey, what's up?" You asked, trying to use every skill you had ever learned to cover up your deed.

"I didn't hear the shower going and was getting worried," he said, glancing at you with a soft frown. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just uh, just kind out of it from the mission is all," you said, chuckling a bit as you gave him a smile. His eyes stayed on you before flicking to what he could see of the bathroom.

"Do you wanna talk?" He asked, looking back at you. "About the mission?"

"Naw, it's fine. I mean, it was a rough one and I just want to take a shower, have some dinner, then sleep for the next to days. I'll be fine," you said, blowing him off.

"Then where did the blood on the floor come from?" He asked, nodding to the rather large drops of blood that trailed from where you had sat to where you stood. Swallowing hard, you began to panic. Every bad thing that could happen was rushing through your mind. Anything from Leon kicking you out to him getting you put on mental health leave to calling the psych ward himself.

"I was just trying to shave, sorry, I'll clean it up," you said quickly. "I'm gonna take a shower now. I'll be out in a bit."

"Y/N," Leon said, putting his boot in the doorway. "Please, let me help you." His tone was soft, worry permeating each word. The man had never once given an indication that he would judge or say anything bad, but you knew once people found out about your secret they never looked at you the same. Your family, friends, teachers, they all changed how they treated you.

Leon was the only stable friend you had and you couldn't lose him. Not now.

"Leon, please," you said, letting the mask fall off. "I just. . . It won't happen again, just pretend you didn't see anything."

"I can't. Please let me in," he said. He could have easily forced his way in, but he didn't. Leon was giving you the choice to reach out to take his offered hand. It was more than anyone else had ever done for you before. Anxiety still gripped you, but you stepped back and opened the door. There wasn't a word about your naked torso, instead his eyes were on your arm. "Let's get this cleaned up."

Turning the shower off, Leon set to work with alcohol pads to clean up your arm before putting some medicated cream on it. The bleeding had already stopped for the most part as he pressed a piece of gauze to the red lines before wrapping it up.

"What'd you use?" He asked, cleaning the floor with a wet rag.

"A razor blade. I hid it in the trash," you said, pulling your shirt back on. Leon went to retrieve it, making sure to throw away the rest of the razors as well. It stung a bit, but was probably for the best. Anything else sharp was tossed or taken.

Leon finished with his sweep of the bathroom before looking to you. "Do you have anything in your room you could use? Be honest with me, okay?" While it may have sounded like something a disappointed father would say, his tone told a different story. He wanted to help and he was concerned for you, more than you thought he would be.

"I don't have anything," you said, answering honestly.

"Thank you," he said. Tying off the trash bag, he left you a moment to take it to the trash shoot outside your place. It was just under a minute, but it left you with a curious feeling. You went to the couch, taking your spot back as Leon came back. On the couch, holding a pillow as you picked at a loose thread, you felt him take a seat next you, both of you quiet for a moment.

"I. . . It's not the first time that I've done that," you said, focusing on the fraying string in your hand. "It's just been a long time and I couldn't. . . I can't-" The words were lost to you as you sat there, trying to express anything at all.

"Was it the mission that did it?" Leon asked.

"Yeah," you said with a nod. "My whole team. They, uh, they didn't make it. I was the only one who made it out."

"I'm sorry, that's gotta be really hard to process for you," Leon said.

"What's worse is I had to be the one to put them down," you said with a bitter chuckle. Your eyes blurred as tears formed despite you trying to blink them away. "They were all infected and I had to be the one to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone. When I turned in my report, everything was blacked out and covered up. They won't get funerals, just fucking grave markers for their families and I can't even tell them why their loved ones died. No one can know."

"Losing a team is. . . Difficult," he said. "I've had that happen before, but you were close with them, weren't you?"

"Yeah, uh, you came to a few cook outs with me to Juan's place. You knew them too," you said, looking up at him. "They're desks are cleared out already and their items put into storage that can't be given back to the families. It's not been more than two days. But I'm the one that gets the praise and award. I lived because they died and I'm supposed to be proud of that?"

"No, proud isn't a word I would use at all," he said with a sigh.

"How can I just smile for the camera and act like I was a hero when really I just got out of there with dumb luck. If my friends hadn't died then I would have died," you said, wiping your face as the tears began to fall.

"It wasn't dumb luck," Leon said. "You're a trained agent and you made it because of your skills. Your team relied on you to stop the outbreak and you did it. We take this job knowing it could be our last. We can pretend it's not really life or death all we want, but we signed up for it. Your friends knew what they were doing. They trusted you to do the right thing and save the city."

"They shouldn't have!" You cried, standing up as you glared down at him. "They shouldn't have died and shouldn't have put me before them! Why do I get to live while they have people that want them, that need them to come home? Huh?"

"You have someone who wants you and needs you to come home too," he said, staying sat. "You are not worth less than them. You matter just as much as they did. I would have been just as devastated as their families if you had died too."

You stared at him hard for a moment, reeling a bit from the admission. The both of you had been friends for years, but hadn't really made it a big deal to express how much you care for one another. Verbally at least. Leon, like you, was more a man of actions speaking louder than words. Rather than saying he appreciated you getting his dry cleaning when he forgot it, he did your laundry for you. When you had forgotten to fill your car up with gas, he was the one you called for help, retuning the favor when he needed help getting his bike fixed. It was actions that you had discounted that showed that Leon was right.

You did matter, someone did care for you. Your worth was not less because you didn't have kids or a partner.

"I have an idea of what you're going through, of how badly you wish you could have done more or had ran just a bit faster or pushed your body further. You did everything you could to save them, Y/N. It is not your job to shoulder the burden of their deaths. Mourn them, remember them, but don't let their deaths burn you," he said, reaching out to take your hand. "You can only do so much and the rest is up to the factors of the situation. Some you can control and some you can't."

The guilt sat heavy in your belly, like a lead weight, but as Leon spoke and showed you what the truth was, the weight was lifted. Just a bit, but it was rising.

"I want you to talk to the therapist at work," he said.

"Leon, no-"

"Please. I'll go with you even," he said, cutting you off. "This isn't going to get better over night and maybe it won't completely heal ever, but you have to be able to cope with it better than wearing a hair shirt made of blades and secrets."

"Alright, I'll go," you said softly, taking a deep breath. Feeling light headed, like you might float away, Leon holding your hand was the only anchor that kept you there. "Thank you, for. . . This."

"You're my best friend, Y/N," he said with a small smile. "I may not say it often or as explicitly, but you mean a lot to me."

Slowly, you sat back down, closer to him to let him wrap an arm around your shoulders as you let your guards down. You allowed him to comfort you as you sobbed, letting out everything you had been feeling as he stayed right by your side.