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alastor-simp · 1 month

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Why? - Alastor X Powerful Fem Overlord Reader Part 1

❥Summary:The war with the Heaven was about to begin. The residents of the hotel plus the cannibal colony were ready. Alastor was at the ready, microphone stand in hand, as his eyes targeted his next prey, Adam.

❥Tags: Powerful overlord, Alastor vs Adam, Hazbin Hotel episode 8, spoilers, The Show Must Go On, Grim Reaper Demon, Death Demon, Adam is an a✪✪hole, Hell vs Heaven, Alastor fights adam. Reader is dark and mysterious, Hazbin Hotel Extermination.

❥Notes: This series is probably going to be 2 or 3 parts. I will decide later on. This is also going to my take on how episode 8 was, so don't be confused if some parts are different. Enjoy:)

*Character Background*

Y/N or Overlord name "Raven" is a grim reaper demon, and the only one that existed in Hell. She was human when she lived and worked in a morgue, until she was murdered heading back from work. Her body is shrouded in darkness, resembling a cloak. Her face resembles a skull, yet she still maintains her feminine appearance from when she was alive. She appears very dark and mysterious, but she is a kind soul and only acts when provoked. Her powers extend to necromancy, darkness manipulation, telekinesis, soul manipulation, and immortality. Similar to a grim reaper, her weapon is a large scythe. Her reasons for coming to the hotel were still unknown, but it appears she believes in redemption, as through her time in hell, she is aware some demons have arrived in hell for reasons that don't qualify as sins, so she remains at the hotel and provides support. Everyone at the hotel was unsure about her, but they soon consider her part of the hotel as time went by, including a certain deer demon.

(Found on Pinterest, credit to original artists)

**The Night before the extermination day- Alastors POV**

Alastor is walking, hands folded behind his back as he moves across the hotel's mezzanine. His crimson eyes gaze down on the other inhabitants of the hotel. Charlie and the others are all chatting amongst themselves, laughing and cheering for whats to come tomorrow. "Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh, Niffty?" Alastor smiles widely, before his eyes turn to Niffty, who is sitting next to him, smiling sweetly. "I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!" Alastor chuckles at that answer, before leaning against the bar of the mezzanine. "Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed." Alastor hated to admit it, but he enjoyed everyone's company in the hotel. True, he did clash with some of them, specifically Vaggie, but he slowly grew attached to them, though he prefers that to be kept a secret. A small object was then placed on his head, causing him to look up a bit. Niffty had placed a roach flower crown on his head, smiling while dubbing him "King Roach." Alastor leaned back, laughing at Niffty's antics. "Oh, to understand your twisted little mind! Both him and Niffty then started to maniacally laugh together, and then slowly calming down. Niffty then jumped off and zipped closer to the others, to join in the celebration, leaving Alastor alone.

**Your POV**

"Not going to join them, Alastor?" a soft voice spoke behind Alastor, causing him to turn around. You were standing behind him, clock shrouding your body, but leaving your face to be seen. Your skull like face was drew into a soft smile. "Sadly not, my dear! I fear my presence would dampen the mood!" He saw you give a small chuckle, before walking next to him, copying his position of him leaning against the bar. "You sure about that? You are part of this group, Alastor. Besides, you always try to be the life of the party for things like this." Alastor laughed outloud, before leaning against the bar as well. "Aww, trying to flatter me, my dear?" Alastor leaned a hand on his cheek, smirking at you. You just smiled back at him, stating you were just speaking the truth, before turning your head down to gaze at the others. Alastor copied you, the both of you standing next to each other in silence. Alastor then turned to look at you, eyes widen a bit to see you wearing a melancholic expression. "Something troubling you, my dear?" One of his hands, placed itself on your shoulder, giving you a sense of comfort. "Sigh...I'm just worried for tomorrow. Yes, the angels can be hurt and killed, but I'm still worried. Not only that, Adam possesses strong angelic power, and I know he is bound to be highly troublesome during the fight." Alastor threw his head back in laughter, "There is no need to fret, my dear. I will personally fight that poor excuse for an angel myself." Alastors powers surged for a bit, thinking of how exciting it would be to sink his claws and teeth into Adam. Turning your head, you gave a worried look. "Will you be okay?"

Alastor turned his head back towards you, raising an eyebrow. He noticed the gentle expression you wore, and he gave you a soft smile back. He had gotten close with you after a few weeks of you being in the hotel. He knew the power you possessed, but you never flaunted it or used it for personal gain. The more he spent with you, is when he got to see that behind that cloak and darkness was a soft kind soul. "I will be fine, my dear! I am the radio demon, as you know. No pathetic little angel is going to get the better of me, I assure you." He gave a kind smile, without his teeth showing. You still wore a worried expression before giving a smile back. You extended your hand out to Alastor, causing him to tilt his head at you in confusion. "Gimme your hand." Alastor hesitated a bit, and extended his hand out, appearing as if he was trying to give a handshake. You chuckled and grab his hand, interweaving your fingers together. This caused Alastor to tense a bit, seemingly not use to stuff like this. "I know how strong you are Alastor. But, if worse comes to worst, I will be there to help you. I promise." Alastor felt a tightness in his chest after you said that, he couldn't quite figure out why. He was going to say something again, but you had blended with your shadow and disappeared, leaving him alone.

**Day of the Extermination- Alastor POV**

The fight between Heaven and Hell was about to commence. Everyone was gathered around the entrance of the hotel, wearing battle gear and holding weapons. A portal soon opened up in the sky, with Exorcists flying out of them, including Adam and Lute. Charlie and the other released a war-cry and began to battle the Angels. Alastor was standing on the roof of the hotel, smiling wickedly. "Let the slaughter begin. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Using his microphone, a large force field began to form around the hotel, providing protection for everyone, and preventing the angels from getting through. It was very effective in halting the angels advances as well as providing damage as the shield was able to sprout tentacles and kill some Exorcists. This, did not last long, as Adam as able to destroy the force field, allowing the hotel to be exposed once again.

Alastor glared at the Adam, as he saw him make his descent to the roof of the hotel and landing on it. "Adam! First man, next to die." Alastor continued to look on at Adam in front of him, looking unimpressed. Adam then asked who the fu✪✪ Alastor was. "Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I'm about to end your fucking life." His microphone cane hit the ground, causing black tendrils to arise. Adam just snarked at Alastor: "Nice voice. Don't you know jazz is for PUSSIES!" Adam summons his guitar, and slashes away at the tentacles before approaching Alastor. Alastor stepped back, wagging his finger. "Ah ah ah!" Alastor was able to dodge Adams attacks, sending some of his tentacles at him. "You really think you can take me on? A mortal soul is no match for me, edge-lord." Adam yells back at Alastor. "You should know better than anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate." Extending out his shadow, it formed a crack in the hotel roof, allowing one of Alastor's shadow monsters to punch him. Adam was now getting pissed off as he killed the shadow monster, with Alastor mocking his strength.

Adam kept swinging his guitar, with Alastor dodging them effectively. "You lack discipline, control, and worst-

His demon form had manifested, sending his shadow monsters to attack Adam and crawl all over him. Adam was sent flying upwards, as he stuttered on trying to insult Alastor back, making Alastor to laugh and swing him into the hotel sign with his tentacle "Ha ha ha! Poetry!" Adam was furious that he was getting bested by Alastor, swinging his guitar, causing a shockwave and yelling out, "I'm going to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, CAUSE RADIO IS F✪✪✪ING DEAD!" Alastor looked around, surprised he was out of his demon form: "What just happened?" He then saw his microphone snapped in two, "Fuck!" Alastor then looked back up, then was sent flying back. Adam had managed to get closer, and swing his weapon at him, causing a large wound to form on Alastor's chest. Alastor was on his hands and knees, trying to get up, but failing to do so. Adam was much stronger then he realized. He needed to get out of there now, before Adam had the chance to hit him again. A heavy kick landed on his stomach, causing him to go flying back, and cough up some blood. Alastor leaned back, grasping on his chest to stop the wound, while staring at Adam with pure hatred in his eyes. "HAHAHA! Not so tough now, huh bit✪✪? Time to die!" Adam raised his guitar again ready to strike at Alastor again. Alastor was trying to manifest his powers to teleport, but he was far too weak! He shut his eyes, bracing for the impact. A loud CLANG was heard, causing Alastor to open his eyes, shocked to see you standing in front of him. Your large scythe was drawn, having swung against Adam's guitar, stopping the attack. "Get away from him!"

*TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2**

TAG LIST:

Tag List:

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chiquite · 3 months

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Regressor Alastor with Caregiver Rosie Headcanons! ❤️🖤

I love these two sm their friendship is everything.

• Alastor 100% doesn't know anything about age/pet regression, nor does he realize he sometimes is little himself (he mostly refers to being regressed as his "episodes")

• He's mostly a pet (deer) regressor, but he does age regress from time to time.

• His regression is involuntary and happens when he's too stressed and near someone who he truly trusts, when he's little he's around 10yo.

• Rosie, however, does know what regression is and immediately recognized what was happening the first time Alastor was little around her.

• How he acts while little depends on whether he's pet or age regressing.

• When he's a little deer, he gets very clingy and stays very close to Rosie, never getting too far from her.

• He likes tackling Rosie in hugs and headbutting her arm and back lightly, that's just how he says "I love you" <3

• He losses his speech entirely, only communicating with squeaks, hums and whines.

• Rosie has no problem guessing what he wants, it's not that difficult when you are as close to him as she is.

• "Oh honey, you're munching on my sleeve, do you want a little snack?", "Don't give me that look darling, I know you're feeling sleepy!", "You're ears are pointing down sweetness, let's take you to a more quiet place, shall we?".

• When he's a little boy, however, he's Rosie's little helper.

• He still follows her everywhere but now he's always looking for ways to be involved in what she's doing.

• "Rosie! Papers!" "That's right sweet boy, we're filling these papers!"

• He needs attention and praise at all times, so Rosie always makes sure to give him small tasks to keep him occupied and make him feel important.

• "Good job bringing the sugar, darling! thanks to you we'll have a nice cup of tea now."

• He's very protective of Rosie, and also very wary of strange men (they remind him of his father, who left him and his mom), so you'll find him hugging Rosie while staring daggers at them, sometimes even growling.

• Rosie is the best at de-escalating situations and making sure Alastor doesn't harm himself or others.

• "I know you're mad honey but let's take some deep breaths okay? I'll pet behind your ears", "Someone's a little fuzzy, how about we go down for a nap huh? I'm sure that'll make you feel better"

• Rosie would love to explain what age regression is to Alastor, she really would but the guy is embarrassed enough about his "episodes" as it is! She knows that with his stubbornness if he knew he was a little he would do all in his power to repress that side of him even if it helps him and Rosie does not want that to happen.

• So for now, every time she senses he's stressed or in a bad mood she subtly and gently tries to make him regress, it works 8 out of 10 times and (although he won't admit it) it makes him feel more relaxed and focused afterwards so it works for them.

#sleepyhead.☆#sfw agere #age regression #sfw petre #pet regression #sfw caregiver #agere blog #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel rosie

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iluvfinnmertens · 1 month

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I absolutely need an Top!Angel Dust x reader, I think he's so hot when he's angry (like in the second episode when he discovered that serpentine was working for Vox and *masquares* when he wanted a stronger drink (I hope it didn't sound strange)

જ⁀➴ Top! Angel Dust x male reader ๋࣭ ⭑

angel dust tops for once in his gay life! <;3

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D

๋࣭ ⭑ TW: very suggestive, angel gets upsetty spaghetti with you, toothrotting fluff at the end

๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 694

๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 8

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Angel was in a bad mood, Val was giving him shit and it was pissing him off. He was sitting on his bed not wanting to deal with anybody right now when there was a knock at his door. “Go away” he groans, turning to his side ignoring it. But a voice comes through the door. “Ang, I'm worried are you okay?” it was you, his boyfriend. He just sighed, “I love you baby, but please leave me alone.” but your stubborn ass wasn't having that and kept going and going. The more you went on the more annoyed he got. You eventually opened the door and entered his room even after his countless requests for you to just leave. That pushed him over the edge and he angrily sat up and got off the bed. “Okay dollface what the fuck do you think ‘go away’ means?!” he pins you to the door and you could see the angry look in his eyes. He chuckled at your lack of words. “Why are you so quiet? Five seconds ago you wouldn’t shut the fuck up.” he growled lowly. “I told you to leave and you didn't listen. I think I deserve some compensation right?”

!!THIS GETS PRETTY SUGGESTIVE LOL!!

He threw you on the bed and crawled over top of you. He sighed, “Is this okay?” He may be upset but he isn't a monster and will always ask for consent. He knows what it feels like to not be asked and he does not want to do that to you. You just nod as heat creeps up to your cheeks. He just smirks at that and just lightly grinds on you as you let out little huffs. “You're gonna be a good boy for me aren't you?” you just nod as he smirks and kisses you. God you love kissing him so much. He then begans to kiss your neck as you made small moans. Eventually Angel gets all his frustrations out and you're just laying resting your head on his chest fluff. He's gently rubbing your back and pulling you close by your waist.

He kisses your forehead, playing with your hair softly. “I'm sorry for yelling at you baby. I was just upset and you were not helping.” you just hum and look up at him. “It was my fault for pushing, I'm sorry.” Anthony gently smiles down at you. “It's fine love, I'll be right back okay?” Anthony stands up and walks off to his bathroom, you hear the sound of water running but don't bother moving to try to look, you are tired as fuck. Anthony comes back and tries to pick you up but you whine in protest. “Baby you have to get up, this will make you feel better.” you just huff as Anthony successfully picks you up and carries you into the bathroom. You get set in a warm tub and Anthony gently takes care of you like you're made of glass, much different to a couple minutes earlier. Eventually you finish washing up and Anthony wraps you in a fluffy warm towel, drying you off completely before helping you change into some comfy clothes, his clothes which you were more than happy in wearing. You soon come and flop back in the bed as Anthony lays next to you. Nuggs happily climbs up on the bed and cuddles into you and you pet the pig with a smile. Anthony smiles at the interaction and snaps a picture. He chuckles, “That's a keeper.” you just lazily smile back and pull him into a hug playfully. He laughs and hugs you back with the same energy.

He plays with your hair gently and your heart melts at the action. You lean into his touch and rest your head on his chest again. Nuggs trots up and lays in with you both. Anthony smiles happily. He's with his two favorite people. How could his heart not be full and happy? “I’m glad to have you my pretty boy.” he says with a soft tone telling you he's being very genuine. You just smile back and cuddle closer. “I love you too Anthony.”

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use me up is such a good song omg. also I live for angel. anyways this is like the most suggestive thing I've ever written—

notes are appreciated!! d(･∀･)b

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ros3ybabe · 24 days

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Daily Check-in: April 4, 2024 🎀

What a good day! I swear I hadn't had a day so good in so long, but this day was absolutely amazing!

🩷 What I Accomplished Today:

reviewed chapters 8 and 9 of Spanish on Busuu

Studied my Spanish flashcards 1x all the way through

listened to three podcast episodes in spanish

read a chapter of Deep Work, the last chapter of Atomic Habits, and a section from 101 Essays to Change The Way You Think

discovered and listened to "A Better You" podcast by Fernanada Raamirez

Went to my make up chemistry lab

took a make up psyc quiz

met with my psych doctor

had a therapy session

had a meeting with the director of the Dietetic program for my university

filled out an application to become an SI instructor (just not to turn it in to the head SI guy now)

Caught up on my chemistry notes

opened a savings account for my university

searched for nearby places to rent/live (I'm moving out soon, sometime this year)

🩷 What Went Good Today:

Got encouraged to add a 2nd major in Finance

Created a list/schedule of classes for next semester that I'm really excited about

learned about other on-campus job opportunities in case SI doesn't work out

felt confident about my psyc quiz after I took it

the director of the Dietetic program was the absolute sweetest and most helpful, and I am so glad I met with her because she answered all of my questions and gave me some great encouragement

finished my chem lab very quickly

didn't need extra money to open a savings account so a savings account got opened

🩷 What Could Have Gone Better:

I felt like I bugged my dad a lot, but I was just so excited to tell him how good everything was going

Need to re evaluate how much I can realistically save per paycheck at the moment for my housing situation AND the college savings account

got a bit emotional with my boyfriend over some past stuff

did not eat the best or the healthiest

psych doc ordered an EKG because she is concerned that I may have an arrhythmia (had an EKG done in the past for the same reason, but was told it was because of my exercise habits at the time ~4 years ago) and having an arrhythmia will limit the mental health medication I am able to take

Overall, not a bad day whatsoever! I was in a really good mood all day because of how awesome everything was and I'm super grateful that I was able to have such a good day!

til next time lovelies 🩷

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skzhua · 11 months

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Episode seven.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: Kind of suggestive, reader is in denial, lowkey cringe but it's cute y'all, I promise.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

You didn't remember how and when you got home. The last thing you knew was that Q had found you among the crowd of students and that you almost passed out then. That would explain why you were back in your room with the worst headache you had ever experienced. You truly woke up when Kitty gasped as she sat right up on her bed. She got up and shook your body but you groaned in pain. Concluding you were not going to get up, she left to go to Q, leaving the door of your room opened. It allowed you to hear everything.

"Q! I have something to tell you, get up!" Kitty hurriedly said.

Another door opened only for Min Ho to yell at his friend. "Q! Did you drink my collagen water?" He got no response other than an annoyed groan. "Or was it you?"

"What? No." Kitty answered.

By then, you made no effort to stay in bed as your roommates couldn't keep their voices down. You walked to the kitchen and laid your head on the counter as you kept listening to them.

"My collagen water is meant to keep my skin dewy. Not rehydrating people who can't handle their liquor."

"My God, why are you screaming?" Q whined. "It's the middle of the night and I'm still drunk."

"No, it's not. It's 8 in the morning."

"Already?" you whined as well.

"Yes. And thanks to some idiot, my party dynasty has come to an untimely end, so yeah, I am in a mood." he sighed.

"Are you in a mood to make me coffee?" Q pouted.

"Yes, but I will deeply resent you."

Your head shot up at the mention of the drink. "Will you be an angel and make me a cup too?"

He deadpanned at you. "And now you want my help. Fine but don't complain if it's not to your liking."

He walked around the counter and started to prepare everything. You yawned loudly and he shushed you, but you still yawned again.

"For crying out loud, will you stop?"

"Your party, your fault. I didn't even want to go in the first place."

"Ah yeah? And yet, you still came and denied me when I was trying to be nice to you for once. I'd say the alcohol played a big part in it, just as much as to why you're so unpleasant this morning."

You laughed sarcastically. "Aren't you being nice now..."

"I am. Here's your coffee." he said rudely as he placed the mug in front of you.

You hopped off the stool to go to the living space while he followed after to give Q his coffee and you dropped on the seat lazily. Him and Kitty seemed to be having an interesting chat as they argued whether she had a sex dream or not.

"Was it about Dae?" you joined in and she denied quickly. "Okay, not Dae."

"No, no. I didn't say I had a sex dream."

Min Ho also joined as he gave Q his cup and stood next to you, leaning on your chair.

"Okay, you didn't have to. Spill." Q insisted.

"It doesn't even matter because dreams don't mean anything."

"She's right." Min Ho jumped in rather quickly. "They don't mean anything. You can have a sex dream about someone you hate in real life."

"Yes, yes, exactly. Thank you, Min Ho. He could have a sex dream about, um, Y/N!"

You heard Min Ho choke on his coffee and you facepalmed. "What the..."

Q looked up in thoughts and bopped his head towards you. "He had a sex dream about you."

"No, I didn't." he dismissed. "If I did have a sex dream about Y/N, it'd be a sex nightmare."

"Oh gosh." you shut your eyes in embarrassment.

"I'm not hearing a denial." Q pointed out.

"It doesn't matter because dreams don't mean anything." he repeated.

"Exactly. I hate mayo." Kitty said.

"And I hate Y/N."

You winced at how loud he was while being right next to you. Q gave you a knowing look and you huffed at how intense this morning was for no reason.

"Sex dreams mean something." he smiled mischievously.

Someone then knocked at the door. You and Kitty rushed back to your room to hide only to hear Finnerty come in. Saying you were in big trouble, he informed the guys about an eight hour long detention you had to attend because of the party. You cried out and let yourself fall face first into your blankets.

"I blame this on you and Q. I wouldn't have come if you minded your business and left me alone."

Kitty chuckled. "Did you have fun, though?"

"I guess? Mostly but I wouldn't have minded staying home."

You stepped in the library together, Professor Lee having started the detention already. You sat at a table and started to pull your things out of your bag. Most of it were your notes to study for your upcoming exams. It didn't feel like it quite yet, but the end of the semester was nearing.

"You have your friend, Miss Song Covey, to thank for that." he said which caused for everyone to gasp, including yourself. "That's right. She was kind enough to alert me to last night's shenanigans."

He held out his hand for the two of you to give your phones and you complied.

"It was you?"

Both Min Ho and you looked at each other weirdly after saying the same thing at the same time. Kitty chuckled awkwardly.

"This could be fun, though." she tried to cheer up. "Like The Breakfast Club, right?"

She only received glares from the others. You shook your head in disappointment and opened your books to focus on something else other than her.

Somehow, Madison found her way to detention and sat down at Min Ho's table, waving at him cutely. The girl never particularly bothered you much but with what happened the night prior, you weren't on her good side. It shouldn't even affect you this much. Min Ho had the right to do whatever he wanted on his own time.

"Hey, babe. Last night was memorable." you overheard her say to him.

Okay, maybe it did get to you more than necessary.

He cleared his throat in uneasiness. "Why are you even in here? You didn't get caught at the party."

She gave him a knowing look and you decided to step into their conversation. "Yeah, how did you not get caught?"

"Please, I've snuck out of every window in every boarding school."

Professor cut your discussion short and asked them to give him their phones. Min Ho was staring at you again in the process and mouthed something to you that you couldn't comprehend. He did it again but you were still clueless; he dropped it eventually.

"Hey." Dae called out to your table. "Kitty, did you talk to Yuri?"

She opened her eyes wide. "Yuri? Why would I talk to Yuri? I barely know her. I don't want to talk with Yuri or do anything else with her." she rambled on until her eyes laid on the said-person.

You swore the day could get any weirder than it was, but here you were. Being moody already, you decided to focus on your books instead, diving right back into studying. It didn't last, though. You heard your name being whispered loudly along with a couple of 'psst'. And you would recognize that voice anywhere now. Your eyes found their way to meet his and you were surprised to see an empty chair next to him, Madison having disappeared. He bopped his head to the place next to him but you shook your head. He gave you a look and, with a heavy sigh, you took your stuff and went to sit with him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" you asked.

"She's not my girlfriend. And I told her to sit somewhere else." he pointed to another table where, indeed, she was now sat at.

"So now you can bother me for the next eight hours, great."

"I won't even be allowed to talk with you."

You raised an eyebrow. "There's no point in sitting with you, then."

He shook his head. "I think we need to go over some things you and I?"

"For the chemistry lab? I already explained it to you."

He grunted out of frustration. "No. About you and I."

Lee shushed everyone which restrained you from asking Min Ho what he meant by that. As detention began, you actually did study. Min Ho tried to poke your hand a few times to get your attention but you always dismissed his attempts.

A few hours had passed and you had already gone over most of the stuff you needed to do. As for Min Ho, he scribbled something on a paper for a while. Writing, erasing, writing again... You weren't sure what he was doing but it seemed to keep him occupied. But when he passed the note to you, you became doubtful. You gave it back to him, not wanting to play his little game. He pushed it back to you only for you to do the same. The back and forth lasted until Lee announced he was needed at the gymnasium. After putting Madison in charge since she wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place, he took off.

"You heard him, eyes down." she said, earning groans from the other students.

When he was completely out of the library, however, she stopped pretending and told you all to do whatever. Still, no one moved and kept quiet, uncertain on what to do.

"What? Haven't any of you gotten stuck in a Saturday detention and kept the party going when your teacher leaves the room?" Getting shaking heads as a response, she gasped. "Oh, y'all are so cute. Okay, poker game will start in the World History section, make-outs move in the back by the rare books. I like an organized chaos. Go!" she finished with clasping her hands together.

Everyone moved and started to chat, some continued to study – you included.

"Y/N, can we-" Min Ho started but Madison coming up to him cut him off.

"You, me. Rare books." she whispered to him before grabbing his arm. "Let's go."

"Wait, what?" he broke away from her.

She frowned. "No?"

He glanced at you briefly. "No, find someone else."

She sighed. "So you were serious earlier. No messing around, I see."

She left to go to the stairs where people were starting to lay out their poker game. Min Ho scooted closer to you but you didn't dare to look at him.

"Can we talk now?"

You shrugged. "There's nothing to talk about."

With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of your chair. You complained but he kept leading you deep into the library, almost reaching the rare books.

"Would you stop pretending for once? Gosh, you're annoying." he said once you reached a spot behind a bookshelf.

"You're going straight to the point, aren't you?"

"Yes because I know you won't. What did you want to tell me last night?" he asked before crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Nothing important... Just that I'm sorry for being rude when you simply wanted to help me with Dongmin."

He grinned. "See? You can be grateful at times."

"Yeah, yeah... But now, I also want to apologize for interrupting your make-out session with Madison."

He grunted. "It was one kiss."

"Yeah, and now it's 'babe', 'last night was memorable' and 'join me by the rare books' type of situation." you scoffed.

"It was one kiss." he repeated. "And I don't even like her, so."

"But somehow, you're together? Make it make sense."

He rolled his eyes. "She made it all up in her mind, I swear."

"Sure."

A smirk slowly grew on his face. "Are you jealous, puppy?"

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks. "You wish I was."

"Hmm, pretty sure you are."

With Professor Lee coming back, you rushed to sit right back where you were. Kitty and Yuri had vanished and you wondered what happened to them. The teacher announced that it was lunch time and gave you a paper to write down your orders. Giving it to Dae first, you and Min Ho joined him at his table.

"What are you going to eat?" you asked him.

"I don't know." he shrugged. "How can I think about food when I'm going crazy wondering what Kitty and Yuri are up to."

"I asked myself the same." you hummed.

"Whatever it is, it's none of our business." Min Ho said.

Dae nodded and took the paper for the food orders. "You're right. I guess I'll just order their lunch."

He started to write but seeing what he was putting for Kitty, you stopped him. "She likes tuna gimbap."

"Without mayo." Min Ho added.

Dae gave you both a weird look. "Since when are you Kitty experts?"

"Since we have to live with her, thanks to someone."

You hit his arm and he grunted while Dae gave you the clipboard. "He's kidding, he loves living with her."

He scoffed. "Let's say I do. I know what you'll have."

"No, you don't."

"So you weren't just about to put in kimchi gimbap with jjajangmyeon?" he sneered at you making you stop writing to glare at him. "I'm right, no?"

"You are." you admitted and gave the sheet to the next table.

"Hey, what are you doing? I didn't write mine."

"I did it for you. Bulgogi kimbap? Extra kimchi?"

He grinned at you. "I'm impressed, not going to lie."

You smiled back and your eyes lingered on each other for a second too long. Dae observed in confusion.

"Did I miss something about you two?"

Min Ho only let out a hum. While Professor Lee announced he'd do a roll call, Dae started to panic. With the girls not being here, he whispered for help to the tables around. Florian was kind enough to be a suck up to the teacher and Lee left to go get a book. That left the rest of you in Madison's charge, meaning being totally free.

Min Ho took your hand and went back to the bookshelf you were at minutes ago. You knew what was coming; he wanted to finish what you had started to discuss. Crossing his arms again, he waited for you to speak.

"What do you want me to say?" you whined, getting annoyed by his behaviour.

"With Madison, were you jealous or not?"

You groaned. "This isn't close to being important to know."

He took a step closer to you. "For me, it is."

Your breath hitched. His figure hovering you, just like that time on Chuseok, it felt too personal to be a casual move. You didn't want to look at him, but he didn't stand that. Bringing his hand to your chin, he lifted your head up so you were finally eye to eye. If you weren't blushing already, you definitely were now.

"What if I wasn't? Then what?"

He thought for a moment. "Then that is it. We act as if this conversation never happened."

You hummed. "And... if I was?"

He smirked. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

"Min Ho, please."

His eyes softened. "Then it'd be very difficult for me to not kiss you."

Something snapped in you. While a second ago you would have donne anything to keep him away the furthest from you, now all you wanted to do was to smash your lips against his. So you did just that, kissed him right away. He was startled by your boldness but it didn't take him long to kiss you back, bringing your body closer to his by your waist. It felt like every pound that had been weighting on your shoulders was gone, all the bizarre tension gone. You wondered if this was only one of his jokes to mock you afterwards but you were too immersed in the moment to care.

Unfortunately, it came to an end when someone shouted that Professor Lee was back again. You broke away from Min Ho's embrace to walk back to the tables.

"Let's go."

He held your wrist and shook his head. "Just one more minute." he said and pecked your lips.

"Lee's coming."

He huffed. "You're no fun."

You shrugged your shoulders. "We'll play later, puppy."

You swore you had never seen his eyes get darker so fast. "I like that idea."

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

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maximumkillshot · 3 months

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Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming.

A/N: Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself.

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail.

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.”

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often…

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless…

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.”

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster.

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that.

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection.

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.”

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are.

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…”

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do.

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink.

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke.

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide.

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air…

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.”

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.”

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again.

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you.

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload.

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear.

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.”

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again.

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends.

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell.

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you.

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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gavisuntiedboot · 10 months

Note

Whenever you have the time could you write about Gavi with a gf that is a bit reserved and touch starved, her love language is physical touch but she doesn't initiate it with Gavi because her ex always told her she is clingy and annoying so she's insecure about it, so Gavi tries to show her it's okay by always cuddling her, or touching her in any way. And then over time she starts to initiate the cuddling/touching and Gavi is so proud and happy because she finally feels comfortable with him

Your writing is amazing btw, I've decided to wait for you to finish Just Pretend completely to continue reading it because whenever I finish the last chapter you post I get so sad because the next one isn't out yet and I can't live in the agony of not knowing what happens next

Pls hold my hand

"Princess, why do you have a sweatshirt that says ‘clingy’ on it?”

You looked over to Gavi, who plopped himself down on the couch next to you, grabbing the remote to cue the Netflix show the two of you had been watching for the last several weeks, eager to finally watch another episode, as the two of you held your shared series’ to a sacred standard. With only two episodes left of the latest “Drive to Survive”, you didn’t want to delay the experience with too much conversation.

"Just and inside joke between me and my friends.” You said, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the bag of m&m’s in front of you.

“Your friends think you’re clingy?” He asked, turning to face you as his hoodie slipped from his head, messy brown locks on full display. One of the things you adored about Pablo was how much he was always trying to protect you and look out for you. You weren’t really be confrontational, and this lead to some mistreatment and being pushed over at times by those close to you. Well, you used to. Since you and Pablo started dating about 8 months ago, he had been there to defend you against people who wanted to take advantage, and often was the voice reminding you to stick up for yourself.

“No no, it’s not them. It’s … something to do with my ex boyfriend. Do you still want to know?”

Gavi tensed at this. Despite you never saying anything explicitly negative about your boyfriend, all the stories Gavi heard made him hate the man with a burning passion. He had slowly but surely messed you up in so many ways, and now as Pablo worked to slowly unravel the knots tightened around your heart, he couldn’t help but curse the man that tied them to begin with.

“Yeah. You can tell me.”

You shifted in your seat, rather uncomfortable with the topic, but not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

“Well, remember that little love languages quiz I made you do? Well I did mine like years ago, and I got physical touch. Which makes sense right because that’s one of yours and we seem to be getting along pretty well.” Gavi giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and causing you to tense.

“Well, my last boyfriend wasn’t super into like… touching? Fuck that sounds sexual. I mean he didn’t really like being touched or cuddling or all that couple stuff. Didn’t like holding hands either. And like this one time, he was watching something on his computer and I was feeling bold or whatever and tried to sit on his lap — he hated that though. He liked pushed me onto the floor and told me to stop being clingy.” You forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and soften the look of horror that had occupied Gavi’s face.

“That was actually why I broke up with him. Anyways I didn’t hug any of my friends for a month after that, and when they finally confronted me and I told them why, they got this made me for me. See, look at the sleeve,” you said, stretching out your arm to show him the ‘pls hold my hand’ embroidered on the sleeve. “So now whenever I’m in my clingy sweatshirt, my friends give me a ton of hugs and stuff. It’s funny. I think.” You say, winching slightly by the fact that Pablo’s eyebrows are still pushed together in anger.

He muttered his grievances about your boyfriend while cuddling closer to you, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks warmed as they were pressed against Gavi’s beating heart. Despite the long time you had been dating Pablo, you still were shy when it came to initiating any sort of affection. You were too scared of annoying him and pushing him further away. So you remained shy and reserved, only responding to the touches he initiated.

“Give me your hand, silly. Never been with a girl who came with instructions before. Maybe I should get you a pair of panties that say-“ his sentence abruptly ended with a pillow to the face. You giggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he just pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you now.

“Oh no no princesa. You’re not going anywhere. Now hush and make mean comments about Verstappen with me.”

Over the next few weeks, Pablo had made an active effort to make you more comfortable with being physical with him. Whenever the two of you were out, he held your hand or had you two link arms. He hugged you and kissed you on the cheek or forehead, asking, “you don’t want to give me a kiss back, Amor?” Puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on display, you coyly returned the peck to his jutted out lip. He smiled widely, teeth almost blinding you. He returned with an attack, kissing you across both cheeks, and ending with a searing kiss to the lips.

His favorite time was when you two watched shows together. He would always pull you in close, cuddling with you next to him on the couch. He would lean close and whisper his comments about the show into your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps as his breath famed over. He would press kisses into your temples, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, and reminding you how much he loved being around you.

“You’re so warm amor - my personal furnace. I love it.”

“Your skin is so soft, feels so nice.”

“I wish I never had to get up from beside you.”

After three weeks of hand holding, kisses, and encouragement, you finally found the confidence to approach Gavi to heal your touch starvation. You put on your clingy hoodie again, laying out snacks on the coffee table and firing up her Netflix.

“Princesa I’m here! Where are you?”

Running to the door, you wrapped both arms around Gavi’s neck, pulling him into you and greeting him with a firm kiss. As he recovered from the unexpected greeting, you informed him that you would be in the living room pulling up a new series. He followed closely after kicking off his shoes, and peeling off his Barca jacket, picking up the hoodie you had laid out for him.

“Did you change shampoos? Used to be peach and now it’s strawberry.”

“How could you tell?” You asked, grabbing some drinks as Pablo got comfy on the couch. He crossed his arms across his chest, legs spread and back slumped.

“My clothes smell different around the shoulders. That’s usually where your wet hair sits.” He looked over at you, watching your eyes go wide. “Amor, you know I love you, stop being surprised when I actually act like it. Now what are we watching?”

Taking a deep breath, you walked back over. You grabbed the remote, pressing play.

“The new season of Black Mirror is out and I’m dying to see it. Heard this one is creepier than normal.” As you explained, you walked over to Gavi. Before he could move to make space for you on the sofa, you draped yourself over his lap. Your legs were to his side, back pressed to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you laid your head on his shoulder. ‘Deep breaths it’s okay he’s not going to push you off.’

Pablo was stunned for a moment, so much so that he remained motionless. Once the shock wore off and he felt your slight tremble, he brought his muscled arms around you, pulling you tightly against him, soft lips pressing to your pulse point and freeing a soft gasp from your throat. He rested his head atop yours, the pressure and warmth comforting and familiar.

“Look at you being bold cariño. If I knew it would get you to sit in my lap we would’ve done this months ago.” You giggled softly in response, turning to face him. You rested your forehead against his, gazing deeply into the deep brown pools of his eyes. Leaning in, his lips eagerly met yours, refusing to release you. When you finally pulled away, you resumed your comfortable position in Pablo’s embrace. “I’m so proud of you, princesa.” The two of you fell into s comfortable silence, enjoying the show, squeezing each other tighter whenever things got intense.

“Can I get a matching clingy hoodie for whenever I want cuddles?” Pablo asked, smiling at you from above.

“I don’t think so, Pablito. You would never take it off.”

~~~

Guys I have the worst headacheeeeee but yay I posted!

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

Text

ñuhus prūmӯs (my heart) │Chapter 9: Reconciliation (NSFW!)

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 │Chapter 11 │Chapter 12 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Childbirth is the duty and dismay of all highborn women. Together, you and Daemon experience the trials, tribulations and triumphs of expectant parenthood. You mend a broken bond.

(Set post-episode 7, though Daemon never married Laena or Rhaenyra.)

Thank you to @angelqueen04, @ewanmitchellcrumbs and @ajthefujoshi for holding my hand throughout the drafting, teehee!

Triggers: incest, age gap, purity culture, detailed depictions of pregnancy, discussion of abortion, medieval beliefs on abortifacients and contraceptives.

You leave under the cover of darkness.

So scattered and stunned are you that you do not think to question being roused by a wide-eyed Bethany and dressed by a yawning Jeyne, led slowly from your chambers with Daeron all but nodding off at your side, conveyed down the stairs and out to the courtyard where Daemon and the wheelhouse await. The particulars seem unimportant. You drowse on his shoulder all the way to the harbour, where the ship is docked and ready. When you are brought aboard and borne to your quarters for the journey, you fall immediately back to sleep.

It is as though some kind of spell has lifted when you awaken once again. You blink as you take in your surroundings: the wood-grain slats spanning up the walls and along the ceiling in shades of tawny richness; the light streaming brightly through the windows adorned with damask curtains of crimson, in complement to the vast rug of Targaryen red and black rolled across the floor; and the subtle signs of Daemon’s presence, from the overcoat carelessly tossed across the back of a chair to Dark Sister placed in her sheath on the table, belt and all. It is the first time in days that you truly see the world around you.

There is something cursed about the capital, you muse absently to yourself. Something strange and unnatural that seeks to steal the joy from all who enter it.

You startle slightly at the sound of your name. “You frightened me.”

Truthfully, you are more than a little relieved to have Daemon in your presence, wanting little else but the surety of your husband by your side. He smiles as he approaches, gentle steps rather than the strident thud of boots against the floor that you are so used to. Your mournful mood has unnerved him greatly.

Poor, poor kepa.

“How do you feel?” he asks, obligingly slotting a hand behind your back as you struggle to pull yourself upright. You wince at the catch and snarl of fabric over your nipples, the sensation of something sticky being ripped from flesh too quickly, sharp and stinging. At the sight of your grimace and the sound of your frustrated huffs as you try and fail to find a comfortable position to sit in, he settles himself along the pillows behind you and coaxes you to lean back against him. He is warm and firm and smells of all the things you love, of smoke and leather and something intrinsically masculine and safe. His lips find the shell of your ear. “Hm?”

You had forgotten to answer. “I am well,” you say.

Grabbing for his hand, you lead him to the place where one of the babes has decided to make themselves known, kicking indignantly out at the side of your belly from within. He laughs at the sensation, pressing back against the assault and engaging in a tussle with the audacious little rascal.

You elbow him gently, frowning up at him. “Do not encourage his behaviour, kepus! He is being terribly rude.”

“She’s just being her father’s daughter, little girl.” Using his free hand to cradle beneath your chin, he leans down to kiss you. It is a soft brush of lips upon lips, barely there, the heat of his thumb tracing a line across your jaw. His eyes glow like vivid spring in the morning sun, vivid beneath his browbone. “No harm in that.”

“They are both free to be their father’s children after they come into the world,” you say, though it is more of a whisper than anything else. “Not while they can use my insides as target practice.”

“Of course.” It sounds distinctly mocking, but not quite insulting. You roll your eyes.

With the heaviness of your middle making it taxing enough to move about on land, it seems all but impossible to take the fresh air while on board a steadily rocking ship. Thus, Ūlla decrees that you are to stay abed for the sennight’s voyage back to your island home. The thought of hauling your body—rife with aches and pains across your spine, your chest, your knees, and swelling unpleasantly at the ankles—around such unstable terrain sounds positively exhausting, and so you submit to her directive with little fuss. You cannot claim boredom, however, for your temporary apartments are a revolving door of visitors come to break up the monotony of each day.

Your new ladies are a near constant presence, which provides you the opportunity to get to know them better. It had grieved you greatly to dismiss Senna, especially so soon after the passing of Miriam, but you knew you could not keep someone capable of such treachery in your service. You had asked Helaena to make enquiries to the court; Bethany and Jeyne were the very first parties to express their enthusiasm for the role. Being from minor Houses, their families bear no particular allegiance in the strife between Green and Black. Your initial meeting with the girls proved them to be every bit as guileless and courteous as you would have hoped.

Mayhaps they are a little dull, you think as you listen to them chatter about the new gowns their fathers had paid for as going-away presents, but there is time to remedy that.

You are gladdened to have Ser Alton also make an appearance, scarred and limping heavily with the use of a cane. He will remain in your service, perhaps as guard to your babes’ nursery when the time comes. Whatever use Daemon finds for him, you are insistent that he be given a worthy stipend for the remainder of his life, though it will be but a mere pittance compared to his great sacrifice. You feel guilty when he grins at your pronouncement of this, for he would not be in such a predicament were it not for you.

You cast the thought aside. What is done is done.

Daeron is your favourite guest of all, though. He reads to you in halting Valyrian, childish cadence shaping around unfamiliar sounds. Though he struggles so, his stubborn perseverance is adorable. He babbles about the ‘tricks’ Athfiezar has taken to the skies to perform, your boy dutifully flying back and forth from his roost to observe your progress home. Your heart aches at the fact that you are missing his little routine, that you are unable to get up and see him as you have craved since first hearing his almighty caterwauling from the highest parapet of the Red Keep, your devoted mount always protecting you from afar. But mostly, your young brother lays about with you, cheek to your belly so that he can feel the babes’ kicks upon his skin.

“Ouch!” He jerks back, glaring at your middle and looking so comically outraged that you cannot help but to laugh. “That one hurt!”

“I am sure they did not mean to,” you say, hand reaching forth to card through his hair fondly. “They just want to say ‘hello’.”

In truth, the sensation is inexplicable. You understand now why it is so difficult for mothers to describe it to one who has not experienced the same. At times, it feels as though your body has become a host to something foreign and frightening, an arcane entity that saps your energy and threatens to burst out from within. But you are strangely relieved by the oddness of it, the bruising signs of lives that are thriving in spite of all that has occurred.

“There’re better ways to say that,” Daeron mutters, bringing you forth from your musing as he returns to his previous position. His next words are muffled into your gown, the sounds vibrating through to your skin and making you giggle. “Be gentle, baby.”

When you arrive on the shores of Dragonstone, it takes everything within you not to cry at the familiar sight of sharp stone contours looming from grey mist, the salt and smoke in the air filling your nostrils with the scent of home. You have missed this place more than you realised. You are guided from the ship to the rowboat to the shore by Daemon and Harwin both, the latter taciturn to the extreme since the discovery of his brother’s crimes. He cannot be faulted for this. You convey what gratitude you can in your silence, leaving him to his thoughts. The sway of the boat makes you queasy, and you are forced to a standstill upon reaching the dock so that you may bend as far as you are able to retch into the sea.

Daemon does his best to soothe you, patting your hip as you grip tightly to his arm for balance. “The worst is over, sweetling. There we go.”

“Ugh.” You wipe the bile from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Never again. Never—never again.”

He chuckles. “If you say so. Hardly a loss. I’ve always fucking hated sea travel.”

You side-eye him irritably. How infuriating he is with that grin stretched joyously across his face, his silver hair ruffling in the wind, expression gleaming with amusement and something wicked.

He is so handsome, you think. You despise him. No, I do not. I cannot.

Suddenly, there is a voice on the wind. You hear your name being called, high and frantic. You cast your gaze down the dock to see a cream-and-scarlet shape advancing quickly toward you, pale hair white and streaming in the weak light. Rhaenyra.

“Sister!”

She is wan and tearful when she reaches you, all but barrelling into you and folding her arms around your shoulders. The smell of her perfume—of jasmine and sandalwood and childhood and simplicity—transports you to another time, a time when you were small and she was so big and not just in stature, but in temperament too, and her embrace was the safest place in the whole entire world. In this moment, you cannot recall why you ever had cause to feel anger, why you had not spoken to her in what feels now like an age. You have missed her, you have missed her and she is with you and all is right and good. All the rest is ash and dust upon the breeze.

“I am here,” you murmur into her shoulder, or perhaps you weep it, tears wetting the fabric of her gown and belly crushed to hers. “I am home.”

“I wanted to come, but Father…” Rhaenyra’s nostrils flare.

It is a profound relief to find yourself in familiar chambers, the rooms where you feel safe and most at ease. Little has changed. The same grim dark walls stand etched with screaming dragons above a stately bedframe swathed in wine-dark velvet, the same bookshelves are stacked with tomes shared between you and your uncle, the same balcony carved from stone is lit by the setting sun. The babes’ eggs remain warmed in their braziers by the hearth, chasing the chill from the room and bringing a merry glow with the crackling flames. You take this all in from your place on the chaise.

“I know,” you say quietly, uncertainly. Despite the fact that your hand is clutched in hers and her eyes are ringed red and raw with worry, you do not quite know where you stand. “Daemon told me.”

She had tried to bully her way to King’s Landing, or so you had been told. Having both witnessed and been on the receiving end of her temper, you do not envy the poor souls who had been made to inform the Princess that she could not mount Syrax to venture forth to your aid.

That she had made such fuss is encouraging, you think. A sister who means to break ties would not threaten to have her staff executed or destroy countless priceless artifacts or scream loud enough to wake the dragons on the other side of the island in her desperation to come to you.

Rhaenyra’s grip tightens to the point of pain, her eyes shadowing with malcontent and the polychromatic thunder of untapped wrath.

“I cannot believe Larys fucking Strong. That he is capable of such—such—” She cuts herself off after a glance at you, huffing in lieu of what would no doubt have been an impressive string of profanities. Shaking her head, the corners of her lips curve up weakly. “I’m surprised Uncle allowed the cunt to live. And Father’s sent ravens, you know—he’s rather put out by the manner in which you left.”

From what you have gathered, Daemon had readied your household with extreme discretion, taking only days to collect what he deemed essential so that he may deliver you from the city without so much as a by-your-leave in the earliest hours. Save for a cursory message passed along to the servants, there was no proclamation made of your departure to the King or the court.

“Yes, well.” What arrogance he has to be wroth after the manner he had discarded my right to justice! “As for Lord Larys… I do not think Daemon intends to let the matter lie,” you say. “He is going to… well, I do not know, exactly. I did not ask. I just—wanted to come home.”

At that, her countenance lightens. “I’m glad you’re back,” she says, as though it is some great secret wrested from deep within her. You could have guessed such from the way she is looking at you like you are returned from beyond the veil.

And yet, it makes you frown. “Are you?” you ask, the memory of the garden threading through your mind, that terrible argument that had shaken the foundations of your bond with your sister.

You can almost hear her echoing words again, vicious and biting. You don’t even realise how spoiled you are.

Rhaenyra closes her eyes and swallows, and you catch the faint shakiness to the exhalation that follows as she prepares to answer you. She extricates herself from your hold, though it carries no air of rejection, and gazes pensively down at her lap where her hands now lay. You notice that she is turning the ring upon her middle finger with her thumb over and over. She is nervous, you realise. You wonder how it is possible that you are able to elicit such uncertainty in one so unwavering. She suddenly scoffs, though from the brooding set of her brow you suppose she directs this to none but herself. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I—hated myself the moment I said those awful things…”

“Why?” This is far kinder than she had been last time you spoke. You do not want to incite her displeasure now. “Why were you so cruel to me?”

As the days have passed, you have found this to be the query of paramount importance. It is not as though you had not known her capable of rage. She is a creature of passion, of fire, and she had rained flames down upon you for a reason. But you cannot—will not—accept the blame for it.

“I was angry. Jealous, even.” Rhaenyra sighs at the expression on your face. “I know. It’s horrible of me.”

You are sure you appear every bit as bewildered as you feel. “But why? You’re Rhaenyra.”

“And you’re very sweet, darling.” A beat, then two; she hesitates, staring past you for a moment before refocusing, eyes returning to yours with steely resolve. “You… you know that Laenor is not like—other men. He prefers those of a… particular persuasion. Of which I am not.”

Here, she pauses. You grasp for her hand again, squeezing encouragingly. She takes a breath. “We tried. Of course we did,” she says. “But no child would come. I needed heirs if I was to ascend the Iron Throne one day. So, I… sought assistance elsewhere.”

“Harwin.”

She flushes at your prompt declaration, glancing down. “Yes, Harwin. And he’s been good to me. They were both good to me. He and Laena.”

It grieves you still to hear your cousin’s name, but you keep yourself from lingering overlong upon the thought of dark skin and silver coils and merry laughter.

A wry, pained sort of smile curves Rhaenyra’s lips as she speaks, drawing you further into the present. “But I always knew—I’ve always known, in the back of my mind, that the gossip is true,” she says. Her eyes shine like polished glass, but you know she will not break. “My sons are the best part of my life, but they are not Laenor’s. Everyone sees it. Everyone knows it. It’s so… draining, living that lie.”

Your sister is a proud woman. After having spent so many years denying your nephews’ illegitimacy to the court, the people, the Greens, to Father, to the gods themselves, it must be dreadful indeed to admit to this truth, even if it is only to you.

“And you…”

She lifts her chin to look at you, forehead wrinkling with the drawing together of her brows. Her tone is not quite accusatory, though the hurt of past wounds brings a weak rise of defensiveness rushing over you. You pull away slightly.

Her countenance gentles. “You have a husband who can give you children. Children whose blood will never be questioned, never be whispered about or mocked or insulted. No one will ever dare accuse you of being a whore. I… It finally became too much for me.”

You do not feel guilty for your response to Rhaenyra’s malice, for the venom you had voiced in that argument from what seems like so many moons ago now. Despite this, you cannot help but to pity her.

‘Tis the folly of youth to think her unmoved by the slander bandied about across the Realm, you chide yourself. You ought to have considered this. “I did not know,” you whisper, regret bitter and tickling in the back of your throat. “I didn’t realise. I thought—”

‘I thought you wanted my husband.’ You let the implication hang in the air. A swooping sensation in your gut heralds the uncomfortable reminder that you still—still—have not told him of this argument.

“Yes.” She nods, anticipating the statement before it has even been made. “And I told you before, when first you were wed. That prospect died long ago. I have no need for Daemon.” She rolls her eyes as though the idea of desiring your uncle is some great folly. You might be insulted on his behalf were it not for the relief that it brings. “None of this was your fault. My own recklessness has led me here, I realise that. I know I do not deserve it, but… please. You’re my sister. If there is anyone I need, it is you. Please forgive me.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra.” Your belly gets in the way, forcing you to contort awkwardly to the side as you move to wrap your arms around her. Her chin falls to the dip between your neck and shoulder, her laugh gusting across exposed skin at the sensation of the babe that is snugged between you kicking out against her body. You giggle with her, angling yourself toward her ear so that she may hear you fully. “Next time you are feeling this way, talk to me. Stop shutting me out. I can handle it, I’m old enough now—”

“I know, I know.” Tugging out of your embrace, she lets her hands fall to your middle.

It is the first time she has truly felt the change in you of her own volition. You remember when you had forced her to touch the burgeoning swell upon first announcing the lives you bear, how reluctant and feather-light her palm had felt, how the strain had unveiled itself at the corners of her eyes and in the weak tilt of her mouth as you had chattered at her in excitement.

“Gods,” she says, fingers mapping the span of flesh in interest, “but you truly are a woman grown now, aren’t you? Look at this!”

“They are already unruly. I feel as though I am perpetually seated in the privy, such is their insistence on entertaining themselves with my insides.”

And once my ablutions are complete, you think ruefully, I am not capable of seeking other locales until someone deigns to find me and help me up. It had not been the best task with which to induct your new ladies—but needs must.

“They’re strong. That’s good. Father must have been pleased.”

“Hm.”

“I’d love to have seen the look on Alicent’s face when she first saw you.”

You shift uncomfortably at the mention of your stepmother. I do not wish to think about her. Not here, not now.

Rhaenyra does not seem to notice your recalcitrance, persisting along her chosen avenue of oration. “She never could stand it whenever I announced another babe. Worried about her precious Aegon, no doubt…” She stops. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I—I—”

At the sight of her concern, so warm and welcome after moons of silence and avoidance, your terrible secret spills forth like water breaking through a dam, unstoppable, rushing torrentially and obliterating everything in its path. You trip over your confession in your haste to get it out, to purge yourself of the burden of carrying it alone.

When you are done, the stillness lingers unnaturally, so quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your blood pumping through your veins.

“Alicent—she… what?” Rhaenyra’s eyes are wide, horrified, face blanched.

“Yes—do tell.”

You turn to see Daemon standing in the open doorway to your chambers, stiffer than the draconic stone carvings that man the entrances to the Keep. Scarcely stemmed rage emerges thunderous beneath the cracks in his control. It seems to vibrate out of him like the dust that quivers on the air after Athfiezar’s landing, deceptively calm until you look closer. The forbidding cross of his arms and the violence that looms in the shadow beneath his brow is enough to tell you without risking inquiry that he has heard you. Has heard everything.

Oh. Your heart twists anxiously. Oh, dear.

“I—”

Speak, for the gods’ sake, you urge yourself, but the sounds refuse to shape themselves into words. Your mettle has fled, leaving you all but a quailing child sitting silent before her elders, awaiting the burn of remonstration.

He advances like a soldier upon enemy territory. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps my little wife did not just say that that whore of a Queen has been dosing her with moon tea since who fucking knows when. Perhaps I’ve been struck with madness, or I’m hearing things.”

The last time he was this angry with you…

A blast of inappropriate hilarity washes through your mind as you consider it. Does the instance where you had ignored him for days and danced with Lord Serrett at Helaena’s wedding count? He had certainly been rather put out. You are unsure if it matches with the near tangible ferocity contorting his face into something bestial, barely suppressed and weathering severe hollows into his forehead.

He is already cross, you think. I could tell him about the fight with Rhaenyra. You have been meaning to. Now seems as good an occasion as any.

“Daemon—” Your sister jumps in her seat when he barks at her.

“Quiet!” he hisses, rounding back on you.

You discard your notion, deciding to not to bother divulging that particular secret here. Another time, then. No need to send him to his grave early. He is positively apoplectic. It cannot possibly be good for his heart.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “I’m your husband! You don’t answer to Rhaenyra. You answer to me!”

“Excuse me—”

“I wanted to prevent bloodshed,” you say, cutting your sister off. You reach for the arm of the chaise, preparing yourself for the arduous task of rising from such a low surface. You keep your voice soft and light like one who is soothing an agitated stallion. “Kepus—”

He lets out a humourless chuckle, scowling and derisive. Standing in the middle of the room, he makes no move to close in upon you. You think you might prefer it if he would.

“Oh, so you’re protecting her? Excellent.” He laughs again, wild, as though it is a great joke. “She’s murdered how many of our ba—”

You watch him break off at the end, swallowing convulsively.

“Shit.” His eyes are bright and his teeth grind together beneath closed lips. “I cannot even say the words, and yet you’re defending her? You’d better have—”

“I was not protecting her!”

Grunting, you gratefully accept Rhaenyra’s mutely offered arm of support to hoist yourself up, her other hand pushing against your back. Daemon steps forward, arm outstretched as though to assist you in place of your sister, a rote movement borne from days and weeks of doing the same. It is not needed. The business of getting to your feet winds you for a moment, the uncomfortable bend of your upper half forcing the babes into your lungs and the breath from your body.

“I was protecting us!” You rub your belly with a grimace. “I was protecting you!”

“Protecting me?” He hangs frozen, fingers twitching. A battle rages plain upon his visage. He wars between the need to cosset and the desire to castigate, your loving, hot-tempered dragon of a man.

Sensing a shift in his disposition—or even a fissure through which you may slip through to gentle him with sweet words and a light touch—you make your tentative approach. “I know you,” you say, wincing with each step as the weight pulls low in your spine. It is becoming far too difficult to move about in your current state. “If I had told you when I first found out, you would have slaughtered her.”

“Too fucking right, I would have—”

“Stop. Listen to me.” You lay your palm on his chest. He tenses under the contact, then releases, much larger hand coming up to blanket yours against his body. His chin dips down, eyes closing and brows contracting as though in great pain. “You would have stopped at nothing to take her life in recompense for… for what she has done. You would have killed her. And what then? The Queen dead, and the slayer in close quarters. Papa would have had no choice but to take your head for it.”

You drop your volume low, too low for Rhaenyra to hear, letting bitterness suffuse your hushed tone. “Only a King can kill a Queen, after all.”

It is an old hurt, a terror from so young an age that you had scarcely the words to describe what it was you dreaded.

Mama, whimpers the small, frightened girl locked away in the corner of your mind, snivelling to the echo of dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes in the barest shape of a woman, a shade of a memory. Is this stabbing pain in my chest what betrayal feels like? Is this how you felt when Father held you down and let them cut you apart? Must I forever wish, hope, pray that he will choose me for once?

You shake your head. This is not the time nor place for such thoughts.

“And I… I would be alone. With child. Forced to contend with the world as a widow not yet twenty summers old. Without you. Without my kepa.” A sharp, plaintive tremor colours your cadence, fear of the picture you paint too real and near to remain impassive. “And do you think Papa would allow his second daughter to remain unmarried with the others wed, even with a womb already full? I was protecting you. I am not sorry for it. I am only sorry that I had not yet had the occasion to tell you myself.”

The world is still as he absorbs what you have said, gaze stormy and troubled and not quite meeting your own. Then, Daemon leans down, presses his forehead to yours, and you believe in this instant that the worst of it is over.

But he bears down harder, and for several moments it is too much, too forceful, and his hand upon your cheek feels less like love and more like punishment, stinging, branding. He shoves himself from you bodily. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he strides away with his back to you.

“Daemon?”

“I—I cannot,” he says, so low that at first you are unsure if you heard it. He does not turn to meet your stare, just tosses the words over his shoulder like you are someone unimportant, distant and detached.

This is not rage, you realise. This is something else. This is worse.

“We’ll speak later.” With that, he walks to the door, out, footsteps echoing along the hall outside, fainter, fainter, until they are wholly gone.

The first thing you proceed to do after Daemon’s exit is invite Ser Lorent into the room.

You had not expected him to accompany you to Dragonstone, given the self-evident vocation of a Kingsguard to swear himself to the highest man in the Realm. However, he refused to return to his Commander upon discovering Daemon’s intent to take you home, being entirely possessed of the belief that it was his sacred duty to defend those whom the King deems fit. Given that your father had named him your shield in the wake of Ser Alton’s maiming and had not un-named him, it seems he had little desire to forsake this assignation when learning of your impending change in locales.

“Please make sure that my husband is not allowed to take to the skies,” you tell the knight, ignoring the sound of Rhaenyra murmuring your name behind you. “He is not to mount Caraxes today.”

He frowns. “With all due respect, Princess,” he says slowly, “I don’t think I am the one to tell Prince Daemon that—”

You wave him off impatiently. “I am the second-born of King Viserys. He is the brother of the King. Tell me, Ser—which of these is the higher station?”

It is a crass comparison to make, but effective. Ser Lorent’s countenance smooths and he sighs, genuflecting before you in recognition of your case. He offers a cursory farewell and a solemn vow that ‘it will be done’, spinning on heeled boot to march himself off to his task. His golden armour gleams with each movement of limb.

“Sister.” Rhaenyra is insistent.

You turn to her with as patient a countenance as you can muster. She is pallid, carved out to her core, and it plays out in the abrupt weathering of her face, supple-skinned youth mirroring the bone-deep weariness of a thousand summers past. Making your way to her, you decide not to risk sitting on the seat this time. Instead, you lean against the arm of the chair, from which lifting yourself will be a far easier undertaking to perform.

“Alicent is not—the Alicent I knew was not so vile as this,” she says numbly, frozen.

You reach out to lay your palm upon her hunched back, the river of moonlight spilling from her head catching soft between your fingers. Her gaze is far-off, like she is not truly seeing what is before her, instead watching a mirage from another time play out upon the stone floors of your chamber. She lets out a chuckle, but it sounds more like a cough or a sob.

“When I was a girl, all I wanted to do was fly away with her. Far away, where babes and Lords and thrones and kingdoms meant little. I think she would’ve done it if I truly asked it of her. She was my best friend. Sometimes I wonder…” Her voice fizzles like the flame that has burned down to the very last of the wick.

You hush her. “The Alicent you knew is gone. She is not the girl from your childhood, Rhaenyra, not anymore. She… she is something else. Warped.”

“She is the Queen.”

It is all you need to hear to know that she understands in a way so few do.

Power destroys the goodness in people, even those upon whom it is forced. The promise of it had turned Maegor to madness; had made your father a coward content to spurn the needs of his children for the sake of satisfying others; had created a villain of the woman who had once helped you learn your letters from history books. It is slow-eating poison consuming its prey, unseen, unnoticed, until it is far too late and the person it has claimed is no more.

Rhaenyra’s expression changes as she sits up, nostrils flaring and skin tightening around her eyes, flinty and dark.

“For now. Not forever.” You marvel at how something delivered in such hushed volume can sound so much like a proclamation. She looks to you, taking your hands in hers with a rancorous glimmer in her stare. “Lo Sīkudo Dārȳti jemēban, ziry gūrotrir mazemilza. Drīvī aemilā, kese kīvio isān.” When I rule the Seven Kingdoms, she’ll get what she deserves. You will have justice, I swear.

You nod shakily, the tightness in your gut easing. Truthfully, you had been unsure if she would support you after having ignored you for weeks. The attack had served at least one good purpose, you think. It does not bring you much joy to consider for all that has come to light in its wake.

She leaves you with a kiss to the temple and a promise to return to your old routine. “I’ll have dinner relocated to your solar until these two arrive,” she says, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs and glancing down at your belly. “You won’t have to go far, that way. Alright?”

You smile gratefully, acquiescing to her suggestion. Traversing the Keep in your condition just for the sake of a meal hardly seems worth it.

In the silence of your rooms, you contemplate searching for the caps you are stitching to protect the babes’ heads in the cooler weather. They are among the luggage still being brought up from the ship, you remember. Damn.

You ponder upon seeking a tome from your solar next door—within which your ladies are currently installed for the sake of privacy with your sister—but you do not fancy carrying further weight for any measure of distance. Your books are far too heavy for the enterprise to be worth it. Sighing, you shuffle to the bed, always in eager anticipation of a nap to replenish the energy the twins sap for themselves.

Awakening an indeterminate amount of time later, you are bleary and fatigued, gown damp and back aching and stomach rumbling. Thankfully, your ladies seem to have ventured back into your rooms during your slumber.

“How long until the evening meal?” you ask through a yawn, using both arms to push yourself upright and bracing yourself for the rush of blood spotting your vision. You refocus a moment later upon the pair seated by the hearth, the fire lit and crackling merrily behind them.

They both startle lightly at the abruptness of your waking. “There are—some hours yet, Princess,” Jeyne says nervously, eyes darting between you and Bethany.

I make her nervous, you realise. You do not wish to contend with fearful companions. Smiling, you try to settle her, though the learning of such unfortunate news as having to wait so long brings tears to your eyes. You are starved.

She begins to stammer at the sight. “If—If you’d like, I can ask for the kitchens to prepare you something small?”

“That would be lovely, Jeyne,” you say, sure that the trails spilling down your cheeks coupled with the wide-set gleam of your teeth has only served to further frighten her. You must seem positively deranged.

You try to distract from the picture you make by requesting scones spread thick with honey and raspberry conserve, a staple in your diet as of late. The longing that arises at very thought of it speeds the trajectory of the moisture sliding down your face. You hurry to ensure she passes on a further request for honey-glazed goat with mashed turnips for supper.

I may just sprout black-and-yellow fuzz at this rate, you muse. You almost consider asking for a jar of honey to be brought with a spoon to consume by itself—but you are certain the imbibing of so much sweetness will only send you rushing to heave into a basin.

As Jeyne speeds off to fulfil the task you have set her, you turn to Bethany and petition her to arrange for a bath to be brought in. The relief at having something to do other than make stilted conversation with her new mistress appears to relax her greatly. She quite happily consents, placing her book of prayers upon her empty seat to make the necessary enquiries.

Soon enough, you are cleansed and steeped in warm water laced with milk and rose oil, leaning happily over the side of the tub to partake in the buttery desert. Your ladies leave you in peace after helping you into the bath before the hearth and scrubbing you down with soap, and so you are able to enjoy the simple joy of it without unfamiliar company to encumber you.

The scent of flowers and berries and floured goods swirl together in a haze of saccharine richness, calming you greatly and easing the last of your worries. Daemon could burst in this very moment and scream loud enough to be heard in the capital, and I do not think I would care overmuch.

You ought not to have.

“Looking rather pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Eyes widening as you slosh about to face your uncle, you brace yourself for the fulfilment of your most recent deliberations. Instead, your gaze alights on his form leaning against the wall, relaxed in a manner that contradicts your suppositions. His lips curve at the display you make, crumbs strewn across the small table beside the bath and collected in the corner of your mouth. The smile does not reach his eyes.

“I was hungry,” you say by way of explanation. “And sore.”

“Hm.” Daemon pushes himself forward, sauntering over at an unhurried pace. You watch him cautiously, attempting to gauge his mood through the mask of inscrutability. He reaches forward to—

“Hey!” You squawk in outrage as he swipes the last of your scones from the plate and lifts it to his lips, hand darting up to try and snatch it back.

“Ah-ah.” He holds it up and out of your grasp. “Consider this payment for being barred from riding my own dragon this afternoon. Care to explain that?” His brow raises even as he stuffs the treat into his mouth, chewing smugly while you flail with indignation.

You pout up at him. “I was worried you would… fly to King’s Landing,” you say, scowling. To murder Alicent Hightower. The implication hangs heavy in the beat of silence after your sentence.

“I thought about it.” Sucking the remnants of conserve from his thumb with obnoxious emphasis, he keeps his tone light, though it is belied by the piercing intensity of his stare. “I wasn’t able to actually do anything, though, thanks to you.”

“Good.” That scone was mine. You sigh, resting your chin upon your hands over the rim of the tub. “I know you are angry—”

“Angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.” That performative gaiety in his voice persists, carrying with it the threat of heated censure should you misstep and say the wrong thing.

You swallow, measuring your words carefully as you grip onto his hand. “I know.” You are encouraged when his fingers fold over yours. Despite the severity reflected in his eyes and the hard line of his lips, his touch is soft. “But you cannot touch her while she is Queen. When Father dies, Rhaenyra will rule, and then we can ensure that she will pay. Justice shall prevail, Daemon—when the time is right. Leave her be. Please?”

His hold tightens and he lets out a harsh breath, wrinkles forming between his brow as they contract. Peering up at him through your lashes, you wait. Then, a minute dip of his chin, a barely-there jerk of assent.

He does not like it, but he agrees.

“You shouldn’t have kept it from me.” There is no utterance of acquiescence. You had not expected it. His voice is low, cross, vibrating through your joined flesh, and the pale hairs on your arms stand upright at the sensation. “I shouldn’t have had to eavesdrop on you to learn something this important.”

“I know. I am sorry,” you whisper.

He grunts. “I know you are.”

“I will be truthful from now on.”

“Good.”

“And you will stop running from me each time we argue.”

At this, he frowns. “I don’t—”

“You do,” you say firmly. “You get upset and walk out, and I have to sit about wondering where you are, if you are well, when or even if you intend on returning. I worry.”

Daemon glances toward the fire pensively, clasp slackening around your hand. When his gaze returns to yours, it is serious, violet so deep that it is like lifting your head to look up at the night sky, profound and unknowable. “I’ll try,” he murmurs, palm ghosting over your cheek, callouses scratching comfortingly. “For you.”

You allow the corners of your mouth to turn upward, cupping his hand with both of yours and turning your head to press your lips to his skin. He smells warm, like the salt-smoke of the isle and something earthy, wild. He smells like home.

You startle when he pulls away to fumble with the buttons on his doublet. “What are you doing?” you ask blankly.

“What does it look like?” Grinning, he tosses first his outerwear and then his undershirt to the floor. He kicks his boots off haphazardly, a movement so thoroughly ungainly that you cannot help but laugh as he stumbles a pace or two. He wiggles his brows, gesturing at you. “You’ve a large bath there. It so happens I’m in need of one, too.”

You hesitate, glancing down at the opaque water, beneath which is your body thick with the weight of carrying two babes and scrawled dark with the evidence of skin forced to stretch too quickly. You do not feel attractive right now. “But—”

“But what? Are you in pain?” He stops for a moment with breeches at his knees, concerned, shaft half-plumped between his legs and ruddy with the rush of blood attending to its rise.

“No, I just—I am not at my most… inviting, currently.”

“What utter shit.” When he shucks off the rest of his clothing and bares his undressed form proudly, you bite your lip at the view, at wide shoulders and corded arms and firm thighs, skin swirled with old burns like a brand of savagery. He makes toward you. “Go on, there—there we go, sweetling. Ah”—he readjusts you to his liking, settling in before you—“not your usual temperature.”

“I cannot have it hotter.” You grumble as he tugs you to him, tilting you to the side so he can press his face to your bared neck. “The babes.”

“Yes, don’t want to roast the little dragons,” he says, greedily caressing your belly below the water. His nose drags across your jaw. “Mm, you’re soft. Smell good.”

You shiver. “Daemon—”

“Nervous thing tonight, aren’t you? A silly little girl with silly little thoughts.”

He chuckles, mocking and mean, grasping at your wrist and drawing you down, down. His tongue laves a line up your throat even as he coaxes your fingers around his cock, using you to bring himself to full mast.

“Feel that? Fuck. Keep fucking going.” His forehead presses to your temple, his length twitching in your grasp, iron, steel. “Doesn’t feel like someone repulsed, does it?”

“No.” Your eyes water, mortified and desperately aching. Why would I doubt him? Why is he not touching me ? Your breath comes quick like a rabbit’s, puffed little exhales, frantic with desire.

“No,” he says, roughly cupping and squeezing your breasts. You cry out, nipples tingling with a strange heaviness that you are unsure if painful or pleasurable. “Up”—he is already hoisting you by the waist—“show me your tits. There’s a girl.”

You gasp, scrabbling at his hair with your free hand as he dips down to swirl his tongue around a nipple, sweep the flat of it across your flesh, fix his lips over you and suck, hard pulls that shoot straight to your gut, pulsing. It feels good. It hurts. There is a tension climbing, climbing—

“Uh!” A foreign release clenches in your cunny and in your chest, not a climax but something intuitive, primordial, extending from your breast and radiating inward to the very heart of you.

Daemon pulls away with a noise of surprise. “How long has this been happening?” he asks lowly, quivering against you as though poised to strike, wild and barely restrained.

Glancing down perplexed, you spy the moisture collected in the corner of his mouth. You wonder why he has reacted so to the taste of the bathwater until you see the beads of gold-cream collected thickly right at your nipple, too dark to possibly be anything but mother’s milk.

It is too early, you think, but in the same token you are also thinking my gowns, the stickiness on my gowns is from this, from my body preparing the way for the babes to come.

“I—I do not know, I—”

His cock lurches in your hand as he leans back down to collect the slow amber trickle from your skin, shuddering full-formed at the pooling of it on his palate. He mouths leisurely, covetously at you, tongue-tip tracing and prodding droplets from the hard peak. Your untouched breast hangs impossibly heavy, throbbing.

“If you taste like this now”—his lips scarcely leave your flesh to shape the words—“I’m hiring a fucking regiment of wet-nurses. They can feed the babes. This’ll be for me.”

You can do naught but keen as he returns to his task, taking great pulls to eke out the scant fluid. Each suck throbs molten in your core, as though someone has seized your pearl between thumb and finger and yanks in tandem with Daemon’s avaricious swallows. His insistent fondling and gusty snuffles and obscene slurps ratchet you beyond the point of speech, feeling so much more than you recall.

He draws back with a slick pop, mouth as rosy and glistening as your flushing chest. “Gods, you’re sweet all over, aren’t you? I don’t know which I prefer to sup from—your tits or your cunt.” His voice is slurred, prompting memories of little Joff each time Rhaenyra had removed him drowsed and milk drunk from her own breast. Daemon looks the same now, eyes drooping and dazed as he stares up at you. His knee pushes between your thighs and knocks your grip away from his shaft, hands angling you to seat yourself firmly over him. “There. Ride my leg like the fucking slut you are. Go on.”

You squirm in his hold, lips parting shakily as he proffers one final wet kiss to your cherry-tip nipple and abruptly switches tack, latching onto the other with a wordless growl. That same sensation akin to the bursting of a bubble radiates through your skin. The renewed greed in his nursing drags tells you that he has lured forth a fresh supply.

With a tremulous whimper, you brace yourself against his arms and slide your core over him, rutting mindlessly and allowing instinct to take over as the sparks coil hotter inside you. The wiry hairs on his flesh rasp against your bud like whetstone across a blade, a pure unadulterated sting that somersaults, swooping, between throbbingpoundingpleaseneverstop and something darker, a bite of agony that feeds into the mounting end. You slide, sticky, viscous, too thick to be water alone, helpless vocalisations escaping as you coat him in your wet. The bathwater splashes about with every movement, spilling over the edges of the tub and onto the floor.

“Kepus!”

Your entrance tightens and your belly tautens, convulsing and contracting with the intensity of a powerful crest, eliciting a roiling heat in your breasts and thighs and cunny. His eyes flick up to yours and dance roguishly in the firelight, his leg bouncing into your pearl so that you can ride out the waves of ecstasy.

Daemon’s teeth graze over your nipple as he pulls away, crowding you back against the edge of the tub as he stands swiftly, sending bathwater careening wildly and swilling over the sides with a slick splatter. He drags you up by your braided hair, giving you clear access to the sight of his hand stripping frantically at his cock.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he snaps, crouching slightly to dig his thumb into your mouth and force your jaw wide. He leers down at you with teeth bared, the head of his shaft burbling pearly white that he spreads across your open lips. “I’ve got my own milk to feed you with. No point dirtying the water when I’ve got a perfectly good hole to spend in right here, hm?”

You beam, rising up on your knees and batting his hand away so that you can take hold of his manhood, welcoming the familiar heft of it with a firm pump and glide of lips along the vein running underside. From the way it tremors at your touch, a flower reaching desperately for the sun, he is not long to finish.

“Uh-huh.” You stick out your tongue and feed him into your mouth, wiggling happily into his groin as far as you are able. It is only when you gag hard enough to incite nausea that you withdraw, taking a breath even as you tongue the stray droplets of seed from the tip, hot and bitter. “‘M all for you. All my holes—they’re all yours.”

He grunts, fingers twisting in your hair tight enough to hurt and cock spasming between your lips. “Fuck!”

You smile, fisting vigorously at the base and suckling over the head in draughts that mimic his earlier movements at your breast, moaning with delight as the syrupy astringence pumps onto your tongue in thick spurts. Daemon’s head tips back above you, eyes closing and hips juddering into your face reflexively. You swallow it all, obedient and eternally eager to please.

“Fuck,” he repeats emphatically, loosening his grip and nearly wheezing, winded and depleted.

You laugh. He hisses as the vibrations travel through his sensitive flesh, extracting himself with a weak groan. Flopping back into the tub with a huff, he seems to care little for the amount of water he has wasted in his endeavours.

“The bath is half-emptied now,” you say, pressing your lips together to stave off the grin that tries to overtake your expression.

Daemon snorts, folding you against his chest like a child cradled by her father. He is firm and warm beneath you, so warm that the water seems cold by comparison, and you rub your cheek over his skin in contentment. “You’ll live,” he murmurs drolly, petting your belly once more. Mercifully, the babes are still.

“I have half a mind to get out and leave you here in this half-empty bath,” you tell him, softening the blow of your snobbish tone with a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He smiles, angling his head to capture your lips more fully, tongue stroking against yours and blending the flavours of his seed and your milk in a strange, sweet-tart amalgamation. “Stay,” he whispers into you, breath mingling with your own. His eyes shine, soft and affectionate in a manner he allows so few to see. “For a little longer, at least.”

When he looks upon you like this—like you are a god incarnate, like you are a miracle brought to life, like you are everything he has ever wanted in all the world—you are hard-pressed to refuse him.

“Very well,” you say, your hand joining his over the place where your family grows. “I will stay.”

Read it on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44058132/chapters/116372530

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 2 months

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lets lighten to mood here a bit: what are your top 5 kataang moments?

"Top five" hahahahahahahahaahahahahahahaha, what kind of nonsense is this? I need a top 15!

#15 - Them bickering on Kyoshi Island (01x04)

This one was one my favorite scenes in the whole show, even back when I didn't really care for Kataang as a ship. It's just such a funny, accurate representation BOTH of "When you wanna hang out with your friend, but you're still too mad to talk things out" and "When your is getting attention from other people and now you're really, really jealous."

Scenes like this are why I never felt Kataang was truly one-sided, again, even back when I personally didn't like the ship - it's just so obvious that with how close they are, lots of moments that could have been purely platonic end up having a romance vibe, so the eventually romance feels way more earned.

#14 - Aang nearly cofessing his feelings to Katara (02x18)

It's a short little moment, but I like it a lot. Aang is just so shy and nervous, it's adorable - and I actually don't mind that they were interrupted because we got lots of flirting in book 3.

#13 - The first two damn episodes (01x01 & 01x02)

I know, I know, putting not one, but two whole episodes is cheating like crazy, but I don't care. Aang likes Katara IMMEDIATELY, they go penguin sliding, he offers to take her to the North Pole long before he finds out HE needs to go there, Katara is ready to throw hands with everyone for wanting to banish Aang and is then losing her mind when he is taken by the Fire Nation. Even Sokka noticed they were getting a bit too clingy for two people that just freaking met and goes "Let's save your boyfriend."

#12 - "Baby, you're my forever girl" (03x09)

This one is just HILARIOUS. It starts out looking very realistic, sweet and romantic... and is then derrailed into embarrassing teenage fantasies, and Aang clearly feels so awkward when he realizes he had just been standing there like a dumbass. The entire episode is great, but that scene is easily top 3 of the funniest moments in it.

#11 - Flirting after he gives her the necklace back (01x15)

They are freaking adorable in that scene. Aang joking around when returning the necklace to her, Katara kissing his cheek and making him blush... peak cuteness. Gets extra romantic with the added context that those necklaces are basically the same as engagement rings.

#10 - Aang finding out Katara brought him back from the dead (03x01)

Aang just looks so in awe of her in that scene, like he can barely even comprehend how someone could be so amazing. The look in his eyes, man! I can't! I CAN'T!

(And for real, how can ANYONE still have doubts that the whole "Aang needs to let go of Katar FULLY AND FOREVER, ALL DAY AND EVERYDAY otherwise the world is doomed" thing is bullshit? The show literally looked us straight in the face and said "True love/friendship saved the day because if it wasn't for it the world's last hope would be fucking dead")

#9 - Cave Of Two Lovers (02x02)

Once again I'm cheating, and once again I don't care. Katara and Aang both blushing when she suggest that they kiss, Aang trying a little too hard to act like he totally doesn't want that kiss, Katara getting offended at it, "I'm saying I'd rather kiss you than die, that's a compliment!", the light of the torches fading away as they get closer to each other, Aang looking all lovestruck after it, then them both blushing after they're out of the cave - INCREDIBLE! SHOWSTOPPING! BEAUTIFUL! ADORABLE!

#8 - Katara not wanting Aang to go into the Avatar State (02x01)

I understand why Aang going into the Avatar State to save her on this same episode gets so much attention, but this moment is criminally underrated AND what makes that other scene hit so hard.

Katara can't stand to see Aang in so much pain and rage and thus refuses to be part of that plan. She is the one putting his humanity, his feelings, and his well-being before his responsibilities as the Avatar. She'll always encourage him to do what's right and help him do what's needed to save the world - but she'd never put him in any unnecessary harm. She'd never take him granted and act like she, or anyone else, is entitled to put him through so much stress and pressure just because of his duties as the Avatar. She'd never take advantage of Aang's kindness.

When Aang went into the Avatar State, it wasn't just about the protagonist saving his love interest (which is already an epic moment) - it was a friend saving another, a survivor of genocide saing another, the hero saving an innocent person who was in harms way. And more importantly, it was someone who was constantly treated like he needed to be a soldier/weapon first, person second, saving the girl that had always been his ride-or-die from the very beginning and that had just proven yet again that she cared about HIM, not just about the Avatar and what he could do for the world.

#7 - Aang and Katara VS Pakku (01x18)

Once again, Aang and Katara showing that they both take the concept of "ride-or-die" VERY seriously. They are really excited to learn together, and Aang is so pissed off when Pakku refuses to train Katara solely because she's a girl, that he says "Fuck this guy, fuck my mission, I'm out of here." Katara, of course, then accepts dealing with that unfair situation because she knows Aang's mission is important and doesn't want to stand in the way of it, even if she obviously isn't happy about it.

Then, once Sokka gives them that idea, Aang is super eager to teach Katara everything Pakku is teaching him, because, once again, Katara's personal goal of wanting to be a badass fighter is as important to Aang as his mission to save the entire freaking world.

They're caught, everything is going to hell, and Pakku now refuses to let train either of them unless he gets an apology, and so Katara goes into fighting mode with no hesitation. Aang, the absolute sweetheart that he is, lets her know that she doesn't have to do this to get Pakku to teach him - then steps aside when she explains this is about HER, her pride and her right to knock some sense into that sour old man.

Finally, after everything is resolved, we get Pakku saying Aang should start calling her "Sifu Katara" - which leads me to:

#6 - Sifu Katara (02x09)

That. Was. So. Fucking. Cute.

Aang wants to make sure Katara knows just how much she means to him, how much he respects her as a fighter/master and we KNOW he absolutely means it, and Katara is very touched by it.

And I gotta love how comfortable they are with each other. Aang practicing waterbending and talking with her to clear his head, Katara giving him advice as to why he's struggling with earthbending AND trying to make Toph change her approach into something Katara knows works on Aang, the push and pull/ying and yang motions showing how they just click and are in harmony with each other - it isn't just AANG showing he appreciates Katara's role as his master, it's the show itself doing that.

#5 - Aang & The Painted Lady (03x03)

That boy was simping for and flirting with the Painted Lady before he even realized it was Katara, because she was a kind "spirit" that he went out of his way to mention looked REALLY pretty even though he couldn't see her face. Then, of course, he has to praise her for wanting to help the people of the village and goes on to help her blow up a whole factory.

You google the meaning of "being in love" and Aang's face is the first the thing that comes up, I swear to fucking God, I can't with this boy.

#4 - Katara threatening to end Zuko if he ever hurts Aang again (03x12)

Once again, Katara and Aang take the idea of "Ride-or-die" VERY seriously. Katara doesn't trust Zuko really changed, but she does trust Aang's judgement and knows that he has the right to choose his firebending teacher, and that they don't really have much of a choice at the moment.

But she didn't forget what Zuko nearly took away from her, and makes damn sure he knows that if he screws up again, he isn't getting a third chance.

And I gotta say, we as a fandom don't talk enough about how, much like Aang's love for his people is explicitly stated to still live on through his love for Katara, the girl he already sees as family and would eventually marry, Katara was only ever willing to kill for two people - Kya and Aang.

This is one of those moments that proof that, even if one doesn't care for the ship, NO ONE can deny just how strong their bond is and how much they mean to each other.

#3 - Finale Kiss (03x21)

Even though I think they should have officially become an item after their kiss during the invasion and that the last minute conflict of "Maybe Katara doesn't actually want to be with Aang" that we got in Ember Island Players was REALLY forced, I still love this moment.

They look so happy, so at peace. They don't even need to say anything. They just lock eyes, smile, embrace each other and kiss. It's oen of the most romantic moments not just between them, but in the whole show.

Also if anyone has a Katara doll with that dress, please mail it to me, because my inner 5-year-old cannot deal with how pretty she looked on that scene and NEEDS it to be immortalized in a doll I can put on the shelf and stare at for hours.

#2 - Aang saying Katara gives him hope (02x12)

Okay, okay, okay, OKAY, we are once again in the territory of "Even back when I didn't like the ship, I still adored this scene." It's one of the moments that I'm always super excited to reach whenever I'm watching the show yet again.

Is just so rewarding. Every single episode we are reminded that Katara has complete faith in Aang, that he gave her hope before they ever met. Yet at that moment, because of Appa's kidnaping, he can't be the Aang she knows - be that he goofy, optimistic, super affectionate friend, or the kind, super empathetic, compassionate messianic figure of the Avatar. He is too hurt and scared, so he goes from lashing out to shutting everyone off - including her. He is doing his duty, but there's little to no emotion there.

Katara keeps the team together as they cross the desert, brings Aang back to Earth when he is snapping, parts the freaking sea, and then helps bring baby Hope into the world - and thus Aang is finally Aang again, and makes sure to let his best friend know just how much she means to him.

It's a nice role-reversal, with Katara being the one put on a pedestal and Aang showing reverence. It's sweet and makes all the moments in which she shows her blind faith in him all the sweeter. It easily could have been my number one.

If it wasn't for THE Kataang moment that is:

#1 - The Dance (03x02)

How could this not be number one? It's the definition of iconic. Literally invented romance. You open up a dictionary and see a picture of this scene in the definition of "chemistry."

Katara feeling insecure because of all the attention is getting, Aang going out of his way to make sure she doesn't feel left out, the way he says "it's just you and me", the way everyone is staring at them in awe... the lighting, the music, the camera angles, the freaking choreography... their smiles, Katara blushing, the way they lock eyes, the almost kiss, Aang holding Katara as they finally stop... it's too good. Just too freaking good. 11/10, no one is doing it like them.

#pro kataang #kataang

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dropthedemiurge · 3 months

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Love for Love's Sake | Things You Didn't Notice #9

(okay it's not an episode number this time i just still have many details to point out oops pls let me go)

I swear. I thought I'd stop mentioning small details because I already wrote like 10 posts on Tumblr translating and explaining all the cultural stuff regarding this show and the obsession is already becoming embarrassing, but I rewatched the last episodes again and I've got tiny. Little. Details. That I can't help but point people to once again. Because damn, the amount of thought put into this show!

(trigger warning: first part talks about suicide and depression, next ones are linguistic and cultural)

The Black Suit & The Sea

I would've asked Koreans I know about the significance of such symbolism but they are celebrating Seollal (New Year) today and I don't wanna ruin the festive mood asking about "how would people dress for suicide" x)

But after watching this scene, I recognized some strong parallels in Korean media depicting depression, suicide and one's decision to end their life. One of it is bridges and jumping (if you don't know what Bridge of Life is, ask me and I'll share, so this post wouldn't become too long) but another one is sea.

My interpretation - Koreans wear black suits to funerals, so if someone is headed to the sea in a black suit, it might mean this is the character's attempt to "have" their own funeral before finally ending their life. Why do I think this combination is somehow significant?

Because I remembered a music video one of K-pop artists I like (Kim Hanbin) made, after he experienced the downfall of career, extreme hate and rejection from the public, and severe depression. His whole album Waterfall tells Hanbin's personal story, dark thoughts and his battle to survive during the time when he was gone for 2 years, but in the music video for this album (illa illa) he is seen emerging from the sea in a black suit – metaphorically regaining his music and, most importantly, desire to live. Watch with lyrics!

youtube

If we think, this is how you depict suicidal thoughts/attempt in Korean media (of course, Love for Love's Sake was even more blunt in telling us the meaning), then Myungha wearing black suit wasn't just for the pretty or dramatic picture. More than that, we see him wearing the black suit for the whole last evening – especially when he goes to finally meet his mother.

Which tells us Myungha has already decided to disappear from this world, and was determined to do it on that day, and his mother rejecting him and pretending she doesn't know her son might not have been just the last straw... but it definitely could've been Myungha's last attempt to find anything in his life worth staying for, worth not going through with his plan.

Anyway, what a scary but beautiful symbolism.

Let's talk about something happier! More heartwarming!

Do you remember when we talked about the carefully placed movie posters in previous episodes? I payed more attention to the background this time when in Episode 8 Yeowoon ran to the cinema searching for Myungha in his world. And what an amazing discovery! When Myungha starts existing again and calls Yeowoon, the movie poster behind Yeowoon says "Guardian" (보호자).

And I already said in another post that Myungha in previous episodes admitted himself being Yeowoon's "guardian, protector" in the exact same word. But now this word is shown next to Yeowoon! As Yeowoon is the one who changed the main mission and has now declared himself Myungha's guardian and protector and will do his best to make him (his favourite pereson/bias/blorbo) happy. They have now both become guardians for each other. This. Goddamn. Show.

And I also want to shout out the VFX & Production team for this show – all the visual effects are very down to earth, gentle and not over the top but enhancing the series to the max. Like, maybe you wondered where on the screen does it say "Monday, August 14" and "Saturday, August 12"? Well, as expected, you see it on four monitor screens above the box office – the date, the ongoing movies (yep, still our favourite two fake movies) and available dates etc.

But when Yeowoon and Myungha agree to meet each other in the exact system time, they are facing each other without a barrier, and the screens are now counting down the time until the Game End. Instead of normally showing movies, like in the previous shot, it says "Time remaining: 3 hours, 23 minutes, 15 seconds". It was either done with VFX or practically, but still, the thought of incorporating system messages into the actual background is insane and I'm always happy to discover such details.

I don't know how many of you have motivational stairs at your schools, we definitely didn't have this but it's quite a popular thing in Korea. They put popular and uplifting sayings for students on each stair, sometimes they even quote motivational phrases from idols, like this:

And it's interesting that when system gets broken and Myungha is about to disappear, we see the deep cracks coming through the stairs, we see ruined school BUT at the same time the quotes in the show are so obviously in our focus. And they are already written (see screenshots above) in Korean and English, but I'll still write down: one is saying "Stay hungry, stay foolish" and "If you dream it, you can do it, you will succeed". So, perhaps... motivational quotes from sunbae?

And the last moment isn't heavy on translation but I still want to talk about it because cool Korean culture!xD You see the gang grilling meat on the roof (it's called samgyeopsal and it's very popular to have for gatherings), and then Myungha makes a "ssam" and feeds it to Yeowoon – but Sangwon steals it.

Ssam is a wrap, you grill meat then put it on the salad leaf, add other ingredients (like mushrooms, sauces, garlic, green onions etc, there are many side dishes) and then you wrap it in this sort of salad sack and eat it. It's very tasty and unusual combination. But the thing is! There is no way to make it for someone else and leave it on their plate so if you make a ssam wrap for someone and want to give it to a person, you literally have to feed them (like Myungha does with a very fond smile). This is why it's often seen as a romantic gesture (aka feeding someone from your fork etc) and why it's hilarious that Sangwon steals this ssam from Yeowoon (because he wants and he gets Myungha's affection and he's not above being a brat about it!)

I'm sure you can already sense it anyway without me telling you about romantic/close-friend implications, but I thought you guys might wonder why are the guys fighting over the salad leaf.

Another funny thing – Sangwon mentions "There's a saying, 'Don't scold dogs while they eat'". This is a Korean proverb "밥 먹을 때는 개도 안 때린다" ("You don't hit even a dog when it eats") which means that, no matter how annoying you find someone, no matter how angry you are, you can't scold this person while they are eating. Eating is a very important cultural thing in Asia, of course, so do not have arguments at the dinner :D But it's funny how Sangwon uses old proverbs to be mischievous and steal Myungha's love without consequences xD I adore him

I swear, this gotta be my last post about all the details in Love for Love's Sake. There is one more scene with the mirror and a caption, and I'm very curious if it means something because it was seen twice, during system breaking down scene as well, but it's either in Chinese or Japanese and I can't read it.

Anyway! Hope you enjoyed your everyday magazine, I love reading all your tags and thoughts and comments, and if you want to read all my previous translations and pointed out cultural details in Love for Love's Sake, go read this tag!=)

#love for love's sake comments #love for love's sake meta #love for love's sake #bl meta #korean drama #korean bl #bl series #love supremacy zone #myungha x yeowoon #tae myungha #dropthemeta #i love hyperfocusing on the show and have amazing community to go insane over it #i love reading all your comments guys #tw suicide #tw depression

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lurkingshan · 2 months

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Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

We've reached the stage with this one where I'm just gonna say we should keep watching for the ratings and enjoy the pretty gifs.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I got to watch episodes 5-8 of the new season this week, and I promptly lost my mind over how good this show is. It somehow got even better between seasons; the creators have some things to say about the experiences of women under heterosexual patriarchy. I already wrote about Kasuga's family trauma storyline and how much it meant to me, but these episodes also gave us Nomoto's ongoing queer awakening and journey to define her sexuality, the introduction of a new queer bestie in Yako, a better understanding of Nagumo and the careful and steady deepening of her relationship with the gals, a new confidant for Kasgua in Fujita, and Nomoto and Kasuga inching ever closer to defining what they are to each other. The world of the show and the support network around our leads continues to expand, and I am loving every moment. This drama is excellent and I cannot implore you enough to go to @furritsubs and catch up.

My Strawberry Film

Kicking off the last Drama Shower show of the season! This is a high school story featuring a classic trio—the Pining Gay, the Chaos Bisexual, and the Budding Lesbian. Obviously, I love them. I like the mood of this one—it's quite a tonal shift from the last show in this series—and the color grading is blue, blue, blue. And there's a mystery afoot as they try to track down the beautiful girl captured on film. Looking forward to more!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

I continue to love this show, though I am not entirely sure how I feel about the turn things took with Mizuki this week. I did not really want this to go the full blown love triangle route; I am more interested in a version of this story where Sakae and Soga try to figure out these adult complications from the foundation of being in a relationship, not with the constant interference of a third party. So few dramas are willing to get the couple together early and let them face things together rather than constantly playing the will they, won't they game, and I was hoping Sukidoya was going to be one of them. That said, I like that Mizuki is sticking around in the story because he's an interesting character, and I like the conflict with Soga's job (we have a preponderance of Japanese shows about unreasonable work conditions airing atm) and the temporary nature of his time in Osaka. That he's worried about eventually leaving tells you all you need to know about how much he likes and respects Sakae. If he felt casual about him he would not be worried about complications that far down the timeline. Let's see where they take this love triangle thing next week; I'm hoping it will be brief.

Perfect Propose

Great episode this week, and I love the way they continue to deepen the backstory for these two. Hiro being the first person to need Kai rather than pity him makes so much sense for their dynamic and why Kai would be so attached to him. And of course, when Kai returns the situation is the same; Hiro definitely still needs him. I love that they took a source of shame for Hiro and turned it into a reason why he and Kai are so compatible. Kai wants to take care of him—and he's not the only one! Loved seeing Hiro's coworkers express concern for his well-being and recognize how this job is grinding him down and breaking his spirit. It was so validating to hear from another high performer that the job is miserable and he should quit. It has nothing to do with failure; as Kaneko said, it's about seeking the life he truly wants. He sees Hiro's talent and knows he will not be able to flourish in this hellish work environment, and I thought it was so kind and compassionate of him to try to help Hiro see that. Also shoutout to Hiyori for sitting her ass back down and missing the last train when she realized prime gossip was about to arrive to her table, she's just like me fr.

Ossan's Love Returns

We are clearly in the drama spiral for the season now, and this show seems to be coming for my beloved Kurosawa. Thanks, I hate it! But the show found its humor again this week even as the sad plotlines for the side characters continued, and I was very happy to see it back in top form. I loved this story with Maki and Haruta caring for Goro for the week, and how it affirmed for them that they are actually not interested in having children. I told @bengiyo and @twig-tea when we saw last week's preview that Maki seemed like the type who wouldn't like children, and I was glad to see that affirmed by the show, and crucially, that he didn't change his mind via the power of Goro's cuteness. Not all people want to be parents, and it's so nice and refreshing to see a loving couple decide they just want to focus on each other, and that you can like kids and spend time with them without needing to have one of your own. I loved, too, that we got some focus on Chizu's struggles as a single mom, and her family rallied around her and made it clear she has support. Takegawa's sudden not-at-all-selfishly-motivated interest in polyamory was hilarious, as was Chief's journey to figure out what was causing his stress—until it wasn't, of course. I was glad Chuoko was with him when he got the news. And I am really hoping that rooftop kiss was Kiku's goodbye, and we will be seeing him move on from Izumi soon.

Bonus: Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai

Shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for giffing this show and reminding me I still hadn't seen it! It was not accessible to me back when it came out and it fell off my radar for awhile. I watched today and thought it was just delightful. A short, sweet, warm hug of a friends to lovers high school bl with two very lovable leads. I highly recommend checking it out.

#japanese ql corner #chaser game w #tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #my strawberry film #sukiyanen kedo do yaro ka #perfect propose #ossan's love returns #kimi no koto dake mite itai #i want to see only you #japanese bl #japanese gl #shan shouts into the void

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northoftheroad · 1 year

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Ten-ish panels to sum up Dick Grayson

@roma107 challenged me some time back: “10 Nightwing Panels That Perfectly Sum Up His Character. Your turn. Go.” It’s been hard to even get close, and in the end I couldn't quite keep it to ten panels... But, enjoy disagreeing with me all the same. 😉

1. Robin vol 2 # 13 (1995)

Dick has issues with Bruce – they have had occasional problems with communication since the early 1940s – but he is loyal to a fault.

2. Teen Titans vol 3 # 6 (2004)

Just about every one of DC’s heroes respects, trusts and is prepared to listen to Dick. Obviously, that's not because he's a nice guy – which he is, don't get me wrong – or because he puts in the work with relationships – which he does. That may make people like you, but it's not enough to get them to follow you into battle...

No, that's because he's smart, professional and competent. As you see here, he can also be intense and knows how to make a dramatic entrance...

3. World's Finest Comics vol 1 # 200 (1971)

Dick is (often, but not always) ready with a smile and a joke. He loved being Robin as a kid, he wanted to do it forever (see, for instance, Nightwing vol 2 # 75). As Batman after Final Crisis, he smiled enough to convince Two-Face it wasn't the old Batman.

To what extent Dick jokes because he's in a good mood, he’s trying to keep his spirits up or he wants to annoy criminals enough to gaude them into sloppy mistakes – it varies between creators and Dick’s mood at the time😉

However, there have certainly been periods when Dick has not put on his best behaviour. He snaps at Alfred, he's unpleasant to close friends in the Titans, etc. I'd argue this is a sign he's not in a good place, mentally. Most of the panels of short fuse/asshole Dick Grayson you will find floating around are either from when he was leading The Outsiders (vol 3), and was struggling after the death of Donna Troy. Or from the almost five years' worth of New Teen Titans comics where his behaviour is influenced by being tortured and brainwashed by Brother Blood (New Teen Titans vol 1 # 22, August 1982, to New Teen Titans # 31, May 1987).

Alternate panel: Teen Titans vol 2 # 12 (1997)

4. Battle for the Cowl # 3 (2009)

Dick is prepared to change. Whether it's about a new mantle, getting a new job to pay the bills, or moving to a new city.

5. The New Teen Titans vol 2 # 6 (1985)

Dick might drop everything when somebody asks for help, and he is open to asking for help and working with teams better than Batman. But he does have his own set of control issues. He wants to have a job instead of living on Bruce’s money; he wants to know how to cook etc so he can take care of himself. You could argue it's a response to being orphaned and losing his home at a young age, and then having several episodes when he doesn't feel secure about his place with Bruce Wayne (see, for instance Robin Year One, Batman plays a lone hand in Batman vol 1 # 13, Partner to Batman in Batman vol 1 # 65)

6. Action comics weekly # 613 (1988)

Dick is uncomfortable with casual relationships/sex. When he had a fling with Huntress (Nightwing/Huntress, 1988–1989), he tried to start a relationship. It took him a long time to accept that he could live with Kory after she had gone through with a marriage of state on her home planet, and he felt strange living with her because they weren't married (see NTT vol 2 #48).

7. Detective Comics vol 1 # 881 (2011)

Dick is a nice guy who chooses to be kind, optimistic and to give people the benefit of a doubt – but he's still sneaky and definitely not stupid.

8. Titans vol 1 # 3 (1999)

Yes, Dick jokes a lot, and he enjoys hanging out with his friends. But he's also a workaholic and holds himself to a very high standard.

Alternate panel: New Teen Titans vol 1 # 29 (1983)

9. Nightwing vol 4 # 41 (2018)

He has a tendency to self-blame - and he is also very stubborn! Presumably, the tendency to feel guilty over things outside his control is partly survivor's guilt, but also related to the very high standards he holds himself to, and the very high expectations others have on him. And, I would argue, this tendency is a reason he sometimes lets friends an family punish him without fighting back.

Bonus panel: sometimes, he can admit he has a problem with self-blame. The New Titans vol 1 # 57 (1989)

10. Nightwing vol 3 # 29 (2014)

He wants to be a safety net for everyone. That's a good summary of Nightwing as a character, in my opinion.

And... Nightwing vol 4 # 43 (2018)

Bonus. This one-shot is a good Nightwing story, but very unfair on Roy Harper/Arsenal. It touches on several things – how Dick is always ready to help, that he does not want to be like Batman, his tendency to blame himself...

#dick grayson #nightwing #robin #batman #batman and robin

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mirai-e-jump · 1 month

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Animage April 2024 Issue Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger Introduction ft. Iuchi Haruhi Interview (translations below)

Publication: March 8, 2024 (between episodes 1-2)

"Receiving the baton from the kings are superheros who drive cars with flair! The new Sentai, with its trademark racing suits, will burst throughout the world!"

Taiya Hando is a "deliverer" who delivers whatever is asked of him. When the Great Space Invasion Running Team Hashiryan appears, along with Ishiro Meita and Mira Shifuto, they change into the Boonboomgers! To protect the people, they challenge the Hashiryan to battle!!

The 48th installment of the Super Sentai series, "Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger," is now airing. This time, it's a Sentai characterized by the fact that all members are professionals in some way. Taiya, a genius in development and modification, drives a car he tuned up himself and works as a deliverer. Each person plays an active role by demonstrating their own skills. Another important point is that the "usual look" is different, with Ishiro being a freelance spy, and Mira working a variety of part time jobs. It'll be interesting to see what kind of chemistry will be created by these members, who all have different personalities, lives, and areas of expertise.

We also wonder what will happen to Jou Akuse and Genba Bureki. How they'll become members of the Boonboomgers, we can only expect an "explosive" drama! _

Taiya Hando: He's an expert in development and modification, and works as a "deliverer". He makes quick decisions, with his motto being to "take the wheel." He enjoys unexpected situations with a positive attitude.

Ishiro Meita: He's an "informant" who's skilled in intelligence gathering. He's a calm and attentive person who always considers the risks. He puts his full trust in Taiya, and lends his support to whatever he decides.

Mira Shifuto: She's a "driver" who's good at driving and maneuvering. After meeting Taiya, she starts to show her inner strength. She's the innocent mood maker of the Boonboomgers.

Jou Akuse: He's a "police man" who's excessively serious and reckless. He's a kind hearted police officer loved by the people of the town, and usually patrols it on his bicycle.

Genba Bureki: He's a "procurer" who procures what he needs from out of nowhere. While soft spoken and kind, he never shows his true feelings.

Bundorio Bunderas: Also known as Boonboom. He's a car shaped alien, who's usually humanoid and human sized, but when the time comes, he transforms into a giant and fights as the Boonboomgers Robo! _

-What I have in common with Taiya is our strong sense of commitment!-

"Please tell us your impressions of Taiya and what you're mindful of when acting."

Iuchi: Compared to the other characters, he seems to have more optimism, so I thought about how I should express that. When it comes to keeping his passionate heart to himself, if I'm too cool, he'll resemble Chasshiro (Ishiro), but if I show it too much, he'll come off as hot blooded, so I was wondering how to find the right balance. For example, regarding the relationship between Taiya and Chasshiro, I looked for references from my favorite anime and other sources to solidify his image.

"What do you think are some similarities between yourself and Taiya, and conversely, what do you not have in common?"

Iuchi: I think we're similar in that we have a strong sense of commitment for what we do, and that we focus on what we love! I always used to be called stubborn. Once I've made up my mind, I can't think about anything else. What we don't have in common is everything else (laughs). I can't develop or modify anything, and I'm pretty indecisive. I feel like I'm the same as Taiya in that I put all my energy into what I like to do.

"What do you think of the visuals when Taiya transforms into BoonRed?"

Iuchi: The other members have also said this, but the impact of the tires being on the face was amazing at first (laughs). However, when I saw them in action, I slowly began to think, "They're super cool!" Not just BoonRed, but seeing all the Boonboomgers actually moving is really cool. During the dub, you can put your personality into your voice, but that being said, if you don't do it well, it'll end up being mismatched. We're getting some great action, so I want to do my best to make the most of it.

"What are your impressions of the mechs, such as the Boonboom Trailer that BoonRed rides in?"

Iuchi: When I first saw it, it brought back memories from my childhood. My father loved foreign cars, and we had alot of model cars displayed in our house. He bought me alot of miniature cars, and I used to play with them by driving them on the carpet with roads drawn on it. So, I felt nostalgic and alittle happy.

"Please tell us what you remember from filming of the first episode."

Iuchi: The first episode focused on Mira, and although she had her own thoughts and feelings, she was being pushed around……as Taiya said, she wasn't able to "take control of her own wheel." The look and feel of the scene where Mira expresses her determination and passion to Taiya left a strong impression on me. Also, the line, "Whatever you ask me to do, I'll deliver it. That's what a deliverer does." I thought it was an important line for Taiya, where the word "deliverer" is used, so I was very enthusiastic about it.

"For scenes involving Taiya, the relationship between him and Ishiro also leaves an impression."

Iuchi: Even before filming, Hayama Yuki-kun, who plays Chasshiro, and I discussed things like, "What's the relationship between the two of them?" and "How should we go about this?" I'd be happy if we're able to give off the feeling that those two are a pair.

"Other than Taiya, which character are you interested in?"

Iuchi: It's Genba! He's very mysterious, and the vibe he and his outfit gives off is kinda different, huh? I still don't know how Taiya and Genba will meet, but I'm looking forward to seeing how Genba's encounter with the other three will balance things out. He seems like a very appealing character.

"Finally, tell us some future highlights."

Iuchi: Episode 2 is about Mira and Chasshiro, and the line, "Boonboomger is connected to my and Boonboom's dreams" is said. These words are connected to the reason why Taiya is gathering these friends, and I think that everyone's pasts will also be depicted from now on. I'd be happy if you pay attention to it.

"Taiya himself also has a mysterious side."

Iuchi: I guess so, there are still alot of things I don't understand (laughs). We'll be gathering more and more friends from now on, so please look forward to it! _

Q: What's your favorite anime/manga?

Iuchi: Due to the influence of my parents, I've always loved manga! We had alot of manga at home, which led me to watch various anime. In particular, my favorite manga is "Fullmetal Alchemist," which I've reread countless times, and have also watched the anime.

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collinrobinsonsglasses · 4 months

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Too Soft to be a Pirate

Izzy Hands X Reader (GN)

Chapter 15 and the final chapter of a series, but I think you could read a lot of these separately and understand what's happening.

Summary: Following the plot of Season 2, Episode 8 of Our Flag Means Death (but not completely). You take the bullet meant for Izzy Hands, and he cares for you.

Episode 15: Mermen

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

The surviving pirates from the raid found themselves confined in Spanish Jackie’s cellar, occupied by British soldiers under the command of some ponce named Prince Ricky. Izzy couldn’t help but think that the minor prince was one of the biggest twats he had ever met – even surpassing the unfavorable first impression left by Stede Bonnet. As the group waited, Izzy wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning on you for support. The presence of you and the rest of the crew was comforting; at least, you were all still alive and together.

One of the men commanded Jackie to serve the soldiers upstairs. Izzy observed as disgust contorted Jackie’s face. She enlisted You, Black Pete, and Roach to assist her in the bar. Izzy had nearly forgotten about your short employment under Jackie, but it made sense that she would want people she trusted upstairs with her. However, the thought of being separated from you unsettled Izzy. He tightened his grip around your waist as you began to move away from the cell, prompting you to pause and turn to meet his gaze.

“I’ll be okay, Iz,” you reassured him, though Izzy noticed the uncertainty that lingered in your expression. “Besides, not listening to Jackie seems more dangerous than dealing with a bunch of assholes,” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Izzy turned his gaze toward Roach, with a mixed look of sternness and one of a subtle plea. Roach, quick to pick up on Izzy’s unspoken request, reassured him with a firm nod. “I’ll look after them Mr. Hands. Don’t you worry,” he affirmed, offering Izzy a reassuring pat on the back.

Izzy clasped both sides of your face, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. Despite the teasing remarks from the surrounding crew members, Izzy didn’t pay attention to those twats, he wanted to just focus on you and how your lips felt against his.

“If they’re getting a kiss, I think it’s only fair that I get one too, right babe?” Lucius playfully teased. Black Pete, happily fulfilling Lucius' request, promptly met his lips.

Izzy observed as you, Black Pete, and Roach were escorted out of the cell. As Roach’s arm encircled your shoulders, Izzy heard the sound of him hatching a plan to prepare an extra-disgusting soup for the soldiers upstairs. Your small chuckle reached his ears as you left, and Izzy felt a relief that he could hear the sound of your laughter at least one last time.

After a considerable amount of time had passed, Prince Twatty returned to the cell to address the remaining group of pirates. Izzy couldn’t stand the sound of his voice, he was truly ignorant about what it means to be a pirate. Using the opportunity to mock him, Izzy took pleasure in calling him Pinocchio.

You had shown Izzy that book the other night, as you recounted the story of how you had it hidden among your belongings the day the rest of Bonnet’s books were tossed overboard. It stirred memories of story time aboard the ship and how much simpler life was back then. Izzy couldn’t help but regret all the energy he had wasted trying to control Edward. He wanted to go back to those simpler times and finally enjoy them by your side.

Ricky issued a demand for Izzy to be taken upstairs. The prospect of engaging in a longer conversation with this insufferable ponce seemed unbearable, but Izzy’s resolve solidified knowing that you were up there. He was willing to endure the annoyance of listening to this twat speak if it meant ensuring your safety. As Izzy ascended the stairs, his eyes scanned the room, and there you were, tucked behind the bar alongside Roach. Together, you were busy filling soup bowls and serving drinks. Spotting your worried expression upon seeing him enter, Izzy discreetly smiled in your direction, hoping to ease any anxiety you might be feeling.

Seated with Ricky, Izzy absentmindedly picked at a candle in front of him, displaying little interest in anything the man had to say. “I’ve always thought you were underrated. I mean, it’s absurd, isn’t it?” Ricky continued, his monologue droning on. “That Blackbeard, he gets all this praise, when you are quite clearing the brains of this operation.”

A few weeks ago, that statement might have worked on Izzy, but things had changed. Thanks to you, Bonnet, and the crew, Izzy had gained an understanding of what it truly meant to be a pirate. It was a way of life that this twat would never understand.

“You don’t know the first thing about piracy, do you?” Izzy asserted confidently, fixing a piercing glare on the man in front of him.

“Don’t I?” Ricky retorted sarcastically.

“It’s not about glory. It’s not about getting what you want. It’s about belonging to something when the world has told you you’re nothing.” Izzy continued, his words carrying emotional weight as he reflected on finally feeling accepted as he was. He briefly glanced at you, and as your eyes met his, he found peace in your soft smile. “It’s about finding the family to kill for when yours are long dead. It’s about letting go of ego for something larger. The crew.”

“Oh, my goodness. You’ve just grown so tedious.” Ricky sighed.

Izzy paid no attention to the man’s dismissive comment as chaos continued to unfold in the bar. Izzy reflected, he had finally found a family – a crew who had chosen to accept him, and most importantly, he had you by his side, despite all the mistakes he had made in his past.

“I destroyed the Republic of Pirates and that makes me the ultimate pirate.” Ricky bragged with confidence.

“You’re not a pirate, lad. You’re a spoiled, entitled bunch of twats dressed in puffy, blue nighties.” Izzy replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Shame, I was going to let you live.” Ricky replied quietly, clearly offended by Izzy’s comment.

“Kill me. Kill us all. Our spirit will last throughout your entire fucking empire because” Izzy paused before speaking for a second, realizing this was the first time he truly believed what he was about to say, “we’re good… And you are a rancid, syphilitic cunt.”

In that moment, Ed, Stede, and Zengh stormed the bar with unwavering confidence as the men surrounding Izzy began to choke and gasp for air. Izzy observed each man around him succumbing to death, while the laughter of Spanish Jackie echoed through the air. Glancing over, he saw you behind the bar, looking stunned by the unfolding scene. Your eyes met his, and you quickly rushed over to where Izzy was seated. He reached out, grabbing your hands in his firm grip just as Zengh forcefully thrust Ricky out of his seat. Izzy felt relieved at the sight of Bonnet and Ed, both alive and reunited.

Izzy was sitting on the table, and you stood between his legs, leaning against him. His arms enveloped you, squeezing you tightly as Bonnet described his suicide mission. In the midst of the unfolding plan, Izzy couldn’t help but imagine all the potential risks. Despite your protests, he volunteered to take charge of Prince Ricky, knowing that if he was in control, the risk of harm to you and the rest of the crew would be minimized. Turning around to argue, he met you with a gentle kiss on your forehead, silencing your objections.

It felt right for Izzy to place himself in harm’s way rather than risk the safety of anyone else on the crew. In the past week, he had experienced more happiness than ever before, and if his final act could be protecting you, he would find satisfaction in that sacrifice.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Marching towards the soldiers guarding the city, the group divided once close. You insisted on being in the same group as Izzy, you found the idea of the man with one leg leading the prisoner to be terribly stupid. Positioned closely behind him, you remained vigilant, prepared for something to go wrong.

Marching forward, Izzy glanced back at you occasionally, maybe to just make sure you were still there. You forced a smile each time in response to conceal the fear gripping you. As the group neared the soldiers, you immediately detected a shift in Prince Ricky’s demeanor. Having met him during your time working at Jackie’s, he had always struck you as shifty and cowardly. So, when he turned to fire his gun toward the group, you were a step ahead of him. As the air erupted with the deafening sound of gunfire, you leaped in front of Izzy, shielding him from danger. A searing pain instantly shot through your shoulder as the impact of the gunshot reverberated through your body.

The world around you momentarily blurred as you felt the force of the bullet striking you. Instinctively, your grip tightened around Izzy, steadying both of you. The pain, sharp and intense, pulsed through your shoulder, but the only thought that was on your mind was keeping Izzy safe. You managed to maintain your footing, but you felt lightheaded.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Izzy gasped, his voice a mixture of shock and concern.

He immediately cupped his hand around your face, his gaze dropping to your shoulder. Chaos continued to unfold around you – Edward, Stede, Black Pete, and Zheng engaged in a fierce battle against the soldiers, until they all laid dead on the ground. Despite the ongoing fight, you stood there leaning on Izzy, feeling detached from the world. The sounds around you blended into an indistinct buzz, and not a single word Izzy spoke seemed to reach your ears. The world snapped back into focus as Izzy frantically called Edward’s name. Through the haze, you felt the reassuring strength of Edward’s hand wrapping around to support one side of your body, while Izzy provided support on the other.

“Izzy, you told me once to let you know when I’ve been hurt, and I think I’ve been shot,” you whispered, your voice distant in a haze of pain.

“You’re going to be okay,” Izzy replied with a gentle reassurance, his voice soothing. “We’re going to get you back to the ship, and Roach will fix you right up.”

Edward remained silent, his concerned gaze flickering nervously between you and Izzy as they continued to help you walk toward the beach. Each step felt heavier, and the dizziness intensified, making you acutely aware of the sweat trickling down your forehead. It felt as if a fever was taking hold, your body struggling against the shock and pain.

Eventually, you felt sturdy arms lifting you off your feet, relieving you from the need to run. As you looked up, you found Fang gazing down at you with concern, as you rested in his arms. “This is like the day we first met, Fang,” you whispered with a weary but genuine smile. Fang reciprocated with a smile of his own, although a hint of worry was in his expression. Gently lifted into the dinghy, you found yourself resting in Fang’s arms as the crew began to row. Above you, Izzy’s voice angrily rang out, urging the crew to move faster as they retreated.

“Are you upset, Izzy?” you moaned in a daze, as you responded to his raised voice directed towards the rest of the crew.

Izzy, upon hearing your voice, quickly looked down at you, his expression softening at the sound. “No, my love,” he whispered tenderly, his fingers gently running across your forehead, followed by a gentle kiss. “We just need to get back.”

“I love you,” you sighed back, your words carrying a mix of affection and weariness as your eyes fluttered closed. You could hear Izzy’s voice urging you to stay with him, but as time passed, the pain intensified, and waves of dizziness overtook you.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Roach took control the moment you were brought on board. The makeshift medical area was quickly set up, and Roach promptly evaluated the gunshot wound in your shoulder. Izzy stood nearby, his hand tightly entwined with yours, while the rest of the crew observed with concern. Roach’s hands moved with precision, cleansing the wound thoroughly and skillfully removing any debris. Throughout the process of Roach tending to your gunshot wound, occasional groans of pain escaped you in your sleep. Izzy, by your side, sought to offer comfort. His fingers gently traced through your hair, the soft strands slipping through his touch, and he whispered tender reassurances into your ear. The tension in the room gradually eased as Roach efficiently completed each step of the treatment.

“All done,” Roach said with a calm confidence, securing the bandage in place. “They’ll need some rest, but I think they’re going to be just fine.”

Fang gently carried you to Izzy’s cabin, carefully placing you on his bed with care. Before departing, Fang enveloped Izzy in a comforting hug, and Izzy reciprocated the gesture. Understanding the depth of Fang's care for you, Izzy felt indebted to him after recalling the countless times Fang had watched over you.

Pulling up a chair beside the bed, Izzy watched over you as you slept, his gaze softening. Izzy found the scarf in his room you had crafted for him, its familiar texture bringing comfort as he clasped it tightly in his fingers. The events of the day had nearly robbed him of you, and the thought of the rancid cunt who had shot you fueled his anger. He was going to fucking kill that twat next time he saw him.

You had told Izzy you loved him, and after this moment, there was no way he could deny your words. You had taken a bullet for him and he would have done the same for you without hesitation. As he sat there, he yearned for you to wake up, to open your eyes, and for everything to be okay.

Edward quietly joined Izzy, pulling up a chair beside him in the cabin. “They’ll be okay, mate,” Edward whispered reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Izzy’s shoulder. “Our little mouse has been through worse.”

“They have to be okay,” Izzy responded solemnly. The room was filled with an atmosphere of silent concern as they both sat there watching over you.

The conversation you had with him encouraging him to fix things with Edward entered Izzy’s mind, and in that quiet moment, vulnerability seeped into his voice. “Ed, I’m sorry… I’ve been terrible to you,” Izzy admitted quietly, glancing over towards him. The shock of almost losing someone he loved made him want to fix things. Life was fragile and Edward was important to him, even after everything they’d been through.

“No, Iz, I’m sorry,” Edward replied quickly, a frown etching his features as he looked at Izzy. “I shot you, Izzy.”

“I fed your darkness, Blackbeard,” Izzy continued, his voice carrying the weight of regret. “For years, I egged him on, even though I knew you’d outgrown him, but the truth is I needed him. Blackbeard, it was us.”

“And now?” Edward asked curiously.

“Neither of us need him anymore,” Izzy replied with relief, a spark of hope in his eyes. “The crew love you, Ed. Just be Ed.”

Edward replied with a genuine smile, and for a while, they both sat in comfortable silence. Eventually, Ed took his leave, and as he departed, a sense of relief settled over Izzy. Finally, the burden of the past had been lifted, granting Edward the freedom to be himself, and in turn, allowing Izzy to do the same.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

As your eyes opened, you found Izzy seated beside you, his elbows propped against the mattress of the bed. He seemed fatigued, and his head was resting wearily on his hands. Izzy, lost in his thoughts, looked up as he noticed you awakening. His eyes conveyed a mixture of relief and concern, but quickly transferred into one of anger.

“What the fuck were you doing?” Izzy seethed, his frustration evident. “You could have died.”

It took a moment for you to orient yourself and recall the reason why Izzy was glaring at you. “You could have died,” you replied firmly once you remembered, meeting his anger with a determined gaze. “But I didn’t die.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” Izzy shot back, his voice laced with raw intensity. “That’s not your choice to make.”

“If I had the choice, I would do it again,” you whispered, your conviction unwavering. You watched as Izzy’s expression shifted into a grimace.

“Israel Hands, please don’t be angry with me,” you implored, tears welling up in your eyes. Despite your exhaustion, you reached for his hand, but a sharp pain shot through your shoulder as you moved. You hissed in response, the sound of you in pain causing Izzy’s anger to melt away instantly.

Izzy swiftly moved his chair closer to the bed, planting kisses on various parts of your face. He started with your forehead, then moved your cheeks, and finally to the tip of your nose. Closing your eyes, you savored the sensation of his lips on your skin.

“I was just scared,” Izzy whispered, his vulnerability obvious. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied sincerely, as tears ran down your cheek. “But you’re required to be nice to me, Izzy. I’ve been shot.” you continued trying to add a lighter mood, making a playful pout, and jutting out your lower lip. Izzy rolled his eyes at your statement, but a chuckle escaped him, breaking the tension in the room.

"You look tired, Izzy," you whispered to him.

"I couldn't sleep until I knew you were okay," Izzy replied wearily.

You began shifting over in Izzy's bed, making room for him. Despite expecting the pain in your shoulder, you did your best to mask it. However, Izzy, familiar with your mannerisms, saw through the attempt, and a firmness returned to his face.

"Stop fucking moving," Izzy barked.

"You needed room to sleep," you replied incredulously. "It was worth it," you whispered as Izzy stretched out beside you, leaning on his elbow.

“Why did you jump in front of me?” Izzy asked gently, his hand squeezing and resting on your thigh.

“I had to protect our Unicorn,” you replied with a sweet smile. There was a momentary pause before you continued, "I feel like, for the first time, you finally realized you can be yourself, and I thought you deserved to have that longer."

You could see love pouring from Izzy's expressions as you spoke to him. "Now you need to sleep," you said, raising your eyebrows with authority. "That's an order."

This earned another deep chuckle from Izzy. "Oh, you're giving me orders now, are you?" he teased.

"I may be just a crew member out there, first mate Hands," you whispered looking into Izzy’s eyes. "But in here, I'm the Captain."

You watched as Izzy's pupils dilated, and his face flushed. It was clear he enjoyed the playful banter, and you wished you didn't have a bullet wound in your shoulder. All you wanted was to be wrapped around the man lying next to you.

Izzy glanced down toward your lips with longing but made no move to meet them. "You had to go get yourself shot, didn't you?" he sighed.

"How long until this heals?" you inquired with a sigh.

"Roach said a couple of weeks," Izzy replied. "So, no more moving for at least today. Just rest."

"I guess you have to stay in here and sleep next to me, just to make sure I don't go anywhere," you whispered teasingly to Izzy.

"That's the plan," Izzy responded with a sleepy yawn.

For the next few days, Izzy insisted on bed rest, catering to your needs. He complained about limiting visitors, expressing that the crew's presence might hinder your rest. Not a single crew member listened to his request, which annoyed him to no end.

Black Pete and Lucius extended an invitation for you to attend their wedding in the next couple of days, an offer you happily accepted. Frenchie, with his firm belief in music as a powerful remedy, serenaded you for an hour before Izzy kicked him out. Fang became a constant companion in your room, providing you company while Izzy attended to duties on deck. You were thankful for Fang.

Finally, Edward paid a visit, sharing his plans to open an inn with Stede. A giant grin spread across your face as he spoke to you, reminiscent of the old times on The Queen Anne’s Revenge. In that moment, chatting with Ed, he appeared truly at peace with himself for the first time.

After a few days passed Izzy helped you move onto the deck for Lucius’s and Pete’s wedding. Seated in a chair you felt Izzy firmly standing behind you. His eyes were attentively monitoring your well-being. His hand rested on your uninjured shoulder throughout the ceremony, the warmth of his touch providing you reassurance. As your friends exchanged vows, you could feel Izzy’s fingers lovingly rubbing up and down the back of your neck.

As you observed Lucius and Black Pete declare their love for each other, your mind wandered to the day you witnessed their first dance. Many changes had occurred since then, but things were so much better. Glancing at Ed gazing at Stede, you smiled, wondering when you might be attending their wedding.

Feeling Izzy kiss the top of your head as the ceremony concluded, you closed your eyes in bliss at the romantic gesture. Izzy serenaded the newly married couple with a song, casting lingering glances toward you as he sang. Each look from Izzy felt tender, melting your heart as you observed him fully embracing who he was. The admiration in the eyes of the crew mirrored back to the night of Calypso’s birthday, and a wave of immense gratitude washed over you. Seeing Izzy alive, standing proudly before his crew, filled you with a profound sense of relief and joy. You loved him, and the thought that you had more time to stand by his side filled you with a sense of contentment.

As the festivities continued, exhaustion gradually set in, most likely because it was the first time you had truly left your bed since the injury. Izzy immediately noticed the weariness in your demeanor and gently urged you to retire for the night. Placing his hand on your back, he guided you to his cabin.The night found you with your head resting on Izzy's chest, strategically avoiding any strain on your injured shoulder. The need to be close to him prevailed, and you enjoyed the comforting presence of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Following the wedding, it was announced that Ed and Stede would stay behind to open their inn. Izzy felt a sense of peace towards Blackbeard's departure from his life at sea. The crew bid their farewells to the pair on shore, with Izzy firmly gripping Edward’s shoulder as they stood in front of the chosen tattered building for their new home.

“Just be Edward.” Izzy whispered to his friend, offering a final piece of advice after everything they had been through. He hoped it would be the last message he needed to convey to Ed, in case they never crossed paths again. “He’s your problem now,” Izzy joked with a smile, addressing Stede Bonnet.

Izzy made his way back to the ship and engaged in conversation with the crew as they pondered the future of The Revenge. Noticing your absence on the deck and finding his cabin empty, he instinctively headed to the spot where he knew he would find you. Discovering you on the bow, Izzy joined you. He contemplated how this spot, under the once-complete Unicorn masthead, had become significant for both of you.

"Did they pick the new Captain yet?" you asked, leaning against him.

"They asked me to be Captain," Izzy replied quietly.

"That makes sense," you said with a smile. Izzy reflected on the time you had told him he would be the best captain. Initially, he thought you might have been teasing him, but as time went on, you consistently showed your belief in him. Your unwavering support started to make him believe in himself.

"But I turned it down," Izzy chuckled.

Turning towards him in shock, you questioned, "That makes less sense. Why?"

"Being First Mate is enough for me. I've already got everything I need," Izzy replied, seemingly at peace. He leaned down to kiss you, showing remarkable gentleness to avoid your injured shoulder.

"Who's the captain, then?" you chuckled gazing at him, as he broke the kiss.

"They decided on Frenchie," Izzy stated firmly.

Izzy watched a huge grin spread across your face at the news. "Do you think we'll be ordered to leave out gifts for the fairies?" you teased Izzy.

"Fuck off," Izzy replied, rolling his eyes but gently turning you and pulling you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging himself against you and kissing the side of your neck furthest from your injury. He felt you sigh at the warmth of his breath on your neck.

"Israel Hands, now that I've been shot and survived, does that make me a real pirate?" you teased.

Izzy pondered over the countless times he had insisted that you didn’t belong in a life of piracy. Regret now filled him because the individuals he had once considered soft or not real pirates turned out to be the ones he needed the most. Stede Bonnet, in particular, had consistently proven him wrong, and he now acknowledged the extent of his underestimation of everyone on Bonnet’s crew.

"You've always been a real pirate, love," Izzy replied, a hint of guilt present in his voice. "You're my favorite pirate," he added softly, nuzzling his face into your neck.

When Izzy found you huddled below deck with Fang more than a year ago, he could never have imagined that he would find himself holding you in his arms. You, along with Stede Bonnet, had become a significant turning point in both his and Edward’s lives. The transformation had been profound, and Izzy had no desire to revert to how things were before.

Holding you close, he felt a profound sense of gratitude and warmth, thinking about how much you meant to him. You were his little mouse, someone he wanted to hold onto forever. Both of you stared into the sea as the ship sailed off into the horizon, treasuring the moment and soaking in the love you both truly deserved all along.

Taglist: @5tud10-54r4h @locamoka-blog @promptly-mercy @this--is--music @raviolical @lxsm2 @emilynissangtr @stedefxckingbonnet

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader #ofmd x reader #ofmd fanfic #too soft to be a pirate

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