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satoruxx · 6 months

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ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!

i. 2007

satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.

he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.

satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.

he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.

you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.

ii. 2007

(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.

a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.

"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.

"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."

you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"

he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.

you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)

iii. 2008

satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.

he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.

"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.

"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."

"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."

he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.

you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.

iv. 2007

(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.

nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.

shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."

when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.

then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.

satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.

shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)

v. 2008

it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.

he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.

every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.

you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.

"where's suguru?"

he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.

it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.

"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.

you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.

"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.

"what do you mean, gone?"

satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."

he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.

he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.

when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.

you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.

"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.

you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.

vi. 2007

(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.

you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.

"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.

"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.

satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.

"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."

he grins. "what? can't stay away?"

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."

satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.

but you see right through him, like you always do.

"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."

"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.

"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."

fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.

"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.

you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."

he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"

the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.

he should've gone with you.)

vii. 2012

satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.

it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.

he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.

and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"

your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.

"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.

"nobody." he had answered.

he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"

"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."

you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"

"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.

"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.

satoru's mug shatters against the wall.

the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.

"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."

"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.

his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.

viii. 2006

(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.

even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.

he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.

"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."

shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"

"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."

your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.

the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.

and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)

ix. 2017

satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.

he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.

you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.

it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.

satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.

he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.

"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."

you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"

"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."

there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.

"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.

god he misses you so much.

he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.

"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"

his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.

he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.

you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.

he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.

when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.

satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.

he misses you so much.

x. 2007

(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.

he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.

well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.

maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.

that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.

there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.

they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.

it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.

"what are you doing?"

satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.

"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.

"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.

"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.

satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.

even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.

suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.

suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.

the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.

satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.

only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.

then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.

then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.

just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.

"don't want him to get lost."

xi. 2018

something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.

satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.

but something is wong. he needs to wake up.

the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.

you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.

you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?

you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.

you'll always haunt him.

you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.

for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.

he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.

he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.

your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.

his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.

"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.

"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.

no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.

no more haunting.

there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.

his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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Omg can u do a best friend James x reader where she’s short and james just picks her up by the waist to just maneuver around her and it’s the funniest thing how reader tries acting like she doesn’t like it YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOOOOOOD

cw for short!reader, this isn't really size inclusive so if you're tall and it's gonna irk you i wouldn't read it </3

In a crowded hallway full of people, James zeroes you out as the easiest to move. He does so by taking you by the waist, his hands curling around your hips and dipping slightly beneath them so that he can hoist you off of the ground.

"-so I got it back and he left corrections on it," You speak animatedly to Remus, waving your hands as you tell him the story of the grave injustices committed against you in DADA, "But his corrections were exactly my answers! I just paraphrased the textbook lines 'cause I didn't want him to think that I was cheating, but apparently the old bugger can't figure out the concept of a synonym! So now I've got to go and get my exam reviewed again, and-! Hey!"

You yelp as James latches onto you, scrambling to find purchase in his broad shoulders when he lifts you into the air. He hoists you up and around another person, swiveling at the waist to deposit you on the other side of him, subsequently clearing a path for him to use on his way to the grounds for quidditch practice.

"Not funny, James," You glare at him, but his grin is easy and free as he saunters away from you, backwards down the corridor.

"M'late for practice," He calls, his shoulders bumping into people periodically as he uses them to maneuver through the rest of the hallway, "You're lucky i just moved you, darling. Could've used you as a stepping stone!"

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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midnightsslut · 7 days

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religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.

taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.

the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.

when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.

side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?

the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.

the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.

ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.

#idk why I wrote this essay but it needed to be said #this could be taken further by actually unpacking each mention of religion on midnights and lover but i ain’t doing all that #the manuscript #cassandra #Cornelia street #false god #cruel summer #lover #the prophecy #the smallest man who ever lived #but daddy I love him #I can fix him #guilty as sin #ttpd #thank you Aimee #peter

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 8 months

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DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave

Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.

He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.

Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!

Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!

Jason: What the hell are you doing?

Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.

Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?

Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.

A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.

Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.

Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.

Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.

Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.

Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.

Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.

Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.

Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.

Jason: First day?

Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.

Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.

Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.

The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?

Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.

Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?

Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.

Danny: Sure, why not.

Danny looks at the headstone.

Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.

Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?

Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.

Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.

Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*

Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?

Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.

Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.

Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.

The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.

Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.

~~~~~

Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.

Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.

But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.

~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~

Dick: How did you two meet?

Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.

Bruce: What? Who dared?

Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.

Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.

Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.

Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.

Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.

Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.

~~~~~

Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.

Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.

Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.

~~~~~~

Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?

Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.

Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.

Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?

Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.

Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.

Jason: Whore?

Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.

Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.

~~~~~

Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.

Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.

The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.

~~~~~

In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?

~~~~~

Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.

GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.

Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.

~~~~~

Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #ghost hunger au #dead on main #danny phantom x jason todd #danny fenton x jason todd #dirty talk #??? idk

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borninwinter81 · 4 months

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William Blake - an introduction for Good Omens fans

I have sent @neil-gaiman an ask regarding his feelings toward the poet/artist William Blake a couple of times, but no doubt due to the size of the poor man's inbox I haven't received a response. So I did a Google search to see if he's spoken about Blake before, and it did indeed come up with a fair few hits. I think you might enjoy seeing this Twitter post if you haven't already, the painting is from William Blake's illustrations to Paradise Lost.

It's not surprising that an author like Neil Gaiman might have an interest in Blake. A visionary from a young age, his imagination was such that he was surrounded by angels made visible in his mind's eye, and he interpreted these visions through poetry, painting and engraving, and self-printed and published many of his own works. This gave him complete freedom to say exactly what he wanted.

Though he had a passionate faith in God, he also had a deep distrust of the church as an institution, and disliked the use of religion as a means of control. This poem from "Songs of Experience" perhaps summarises his feelings best:

"I went to the Garden of Love,

And saw what I never had seen:

A Chapel was built in the midst,

Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;

So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,

That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,

And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

And binding with briars, my joys & desires."

In his poetry there is often an incongruity with the generally accepted religious ideas of what is good and evil, Angel and Demon. In The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (there's a title that should make any GO fan sit up and pay attention) he tells us that "in the book of Job, Milton's Messiah is called Satan", signifying that he feels it is Lucifer/the devil who is the true Messiah of Paradise Lost.

He gives us The Voice of the Devil and Proverbs of Hell, and has Angels being transformed into Demons through enlightenment. He tells us that Jesus broke all of the 10 commandments, yet was still virtuous because he acted according to his own morality rather than rules.

The god-figure of his later works, Urizen, generally comes across as malevolent, seeking to bind and control, whilst Los, the Satan/Messiah figure represents freedom, imagination and creativity.

"Restraining desire" and acting contrary to your own nature seem to be the only real evils for Blake.

He expressed his faith through a love of the world and the beauty in it, summed up in this quote:

"When the Sun rises do you not see a round Disk of fire somewhat like a Guinea? O no no I see an innumerable company of the Heavenly host crying Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God Almighty".

He saw "God" in everything, in all the wonders we have around us, and considered writers/poets and religious prophets as essentially the same, since they both have a connection to the divine, and express it through stories.

It's quite ironic that probably his most famous poem, Jerusalem (the one that starts "and did those feet in ancient times walk upon England's mountains green"), was made into a very popular church hymn, yet it is supposed to be satirical in nature. The poem recounts the myth that Jesus may have visited England in his boyhood, and Blake is expressing his disbelief at that notion and the unworthiness of England.

Did I have a point to all this? Mostly to show my hand as a massive Blake nerd, but also to hopefully demonstrate that there's a lot of common ground between his ideas and those expressed in a show/book like Good Omens, and hopefully to inspire some of you who may not be familiar with Blake to seek him out. In particular I'd recommend The Marriage of Heaven and Hell to any and all.

EDIT: I should have thought to include this, here's Michael Sheen reading a Blake poem. I have the CD this is from, he reads several by Blake, as well as other poets I love ❤️ 😍

youtube

#william blake #good omens #good omens book #good omens 2 #good omens s3 #neil gaiman #crowley #aziraphale #english literature #literature #poetry #go2 #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #book omens #michael sheen #Youtube

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on-leatheredwings · 1 month

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House Arrest

Yandere! Batfam / Bruce Wayne x (Fem!) Reader

For a request, Munchausen's syndrome by proxy with Bruce? Like, he keeps reader sick so she can't leave him or interact with someone outside the family. And maybe the rest of the batfam is in on it?

[a/n: Didn’t know if you wanted this platonic or not so I didn’t specify! In my head its romantic with bruce though lmao]

> word count: 1581

> Tw: gaslighting, munchausen’s syndrome by proxy, yandere-typical behaviors!

You sit in anticipation, foot tapping against the stone floor. There’s an entire miniature hospital set up for you down here in the Batcave. Respirators, diagnostics machines, and other expensive medical equipment that would be better served in Gotham General.

Helping people recover.

So patients could some day leave.

You used to love being in the Batcave. It was the family’s little secret. When you officially joined the family, the Batcave was now your secret as well. But ever since falling ill months ago, bedridden with a sickness whose cause continues to elude everyone… being here is depressing. You now notice it’s damp down here. Dark. Lifeless.

Bruce sits at the Batcomputer, the screen’s light painting over his face in a green wash. You watch his eyes scan line after line of your results. Reminds you of a typewriter. Methodical. Orderly. Nearly inhuman. When he sighs, your heart stops.

Fuck.

He turns to you, face grave. “You’re still ill.”

Your eyes start stinging with an onset of tears that you furiously try to blink back.

“... H-How ill? How bad? Am I any better?” you ask, as if bartering with him will make the situation any different. As if bartering with God ever made any difference for mere mortals such as yourself.

Bruce’s face is still.

“You haven’t improved.”

Your hopes crash down around you like glass. You aren’t better at all? Even though you haven’t had a fever in weeks? Even though you’ve been working out with enough energy to keep up with Damian? He was exerting perhaps only 10% of his effort, but still. Your lymph nodes aren’t even swollen anymore. Tim had told you as much, accidentally contradicting Bruce’s insistence that they had been earlier that morning.

“But I feel better,” you croak. You hear footsteps behind you approach and you swallow drily, nearly hissing at the offender. It’s Dick, and damn him. You don’t want to be placated right now.

“Are you experiencing any headaches? Shortness of breath?” Bruce asks, eyes still trained on you. You try to recall.

“... I may have had a migraine this morning…” At Bruce’s weary shake of the head, you blurt, “But it’s passed. I’m perfectly fine. And no shortness of breath.”

“... I’m sorry. But if you’ve been having symptoms like that, along with your being immunocompromised…” Bruce doesn’t even have to finish the sentence. You won’t be leaving the Wayne Manor grounds for a long time.

Fuck.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Dick, whose face is somber but offers an encouraging smile.

“Well, I’m back in town for the time being. We can hang out all the time.” His expression brightens as an idea pops into his head. “And I can call Tim, Jason, Duke–! Maybe even Cass and Steph… We can have a board game night tonight!” He sounds as chipper as you are miserable.

Damian approaches from behind, leaving the shadows. His arms are folded. “If that’s the case, I’ll humor Grayson and let him capture some of my fleet for once.” A popular choice was Risk, perfect for the family who’s entire lives revolved around combat and strategy. But you didn’t want to play Risk again. You didn’t want to have a board game night, no matter how many of the family came. You wanted to see people.

Other people. Everyone here is your family.

You want fucking friends again. You wanted a job again – a sentiment you would’ve laughed at even just five months ago. You wanted any semblance of a life again.

Bruce’s eyes haven’t left your trembling form once, two chips of slate-gray peering over steepled hands.

“Thank you, Dick. Damian. But I think she could use some time alone.”

Dick’s hand releases your shoulder, retracting as if burned. None of them are the boss here. It’s Bruce who is my warden, your mind whispers darkly.

“Right! Don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.” Dick sees himself out, taking Damian with him. “See you tonight.” And that feels like a sentencing to your fate.

Now the two of you alone, Bruce stands, offering his arm wordlessly. You know what this means. You take it, linking yours with his without thought or protest. Bruce liked to ensure you were always within his reach, as if you were prone to fainting spells. This was less humiliating for you than him carrying you through the estate, you suppose.

“Why, yes, let’s take a turn around the grounds!” you used to exclaim, making your voice posh and British, mimicking the regency romance movies you had been watching all the time.

Now, months later, you just sullenly allow him to lead you. Your surroundings pass by and you vaguely recognize that you are exiting the Batcave, walking through the manor, and out into the never-ending expanse of a well-kept lawn.

It’s a sunny, idyllic spring day after months of overcast winter.

And thank god you could still traipse outside when you wanted, even if fenced in. Bruce told you when you had first fallen ill that he had installed some high-tech, anti-air pollution gadget. Wayne Manor was effectively your own personal bubble. Fresh air was the only thing keeping you sane, lately.

You two pass by the garden, a labor of love Alfred started. You and Damian tend to it now… and mainly the latter, these days. You haven’t had any energy for gardening as of late. Fatigue is a symptom, you hear Bruce’s voice whisper in the back of your mind. But you don’t feel fatigue… rather, just depressed. But of course, isn’t fatigue a symptom of being depressed…? A familiar brain fog crawls into your mind. Your head was starting to hurt.

You look across the lawn, onto the horizon. Gotham’s dark skyline sits there, enticing. When night falls, it’ll glimmer and twinkle with light. There is a whole world out there. And, God, you love the Waynes, but they aren’t the world. You need to distract yourself. Bruce, ever the lover of pleasant silences, is going to have to distract you from thoughts that make you want to leap off the second story balcony of your bedroom.

Should you ask, “How’s work?” No. You find you don’t care.

“How’s Jason?” you say instead, feeling Bruce stiffen at the mention of his most tenuous relation.

He wasn’t around as much, but when he was, he was always relaxing with you in your room. You have a whole shelf for the knick knacks he brings. “Don’t worry. They’re clean,” he’d snort at his former mentor, because Bruce required everything to be thrice sanitized before coming into your possession.

“... Better.”

You’re glad. That’s one good thing, you guess.

“Bruce,” you croak.

He looks at you, face alight in expectation.

“Maybe I should just go,” you say, small and weak. Your eyes don’t leave the sight of Gotham skyscrapers, stretching to the sky. Bruce stills, stopping you both in your tracks.

“What do you mean, ‘go’?” he says carefully.

You remove yourself from his arm and gesture to the city. “Just go. Leave. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.” Bruce looks genuinely confused, as much as he can.

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t!” you screech. Frustrated, you tear at your hair. “I can just be an outpatient somewhere– I can go for hospital treatments every week– or everyday– whatever!

Bruce places his hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Rage flares in you and you gnash your teeth at him. By now, that all-too-familiar brain fog has flooded your brain. But you try to fight it. You have to fight it. Like trying to crawl out of rapidly-sinking quicksand, you fight it.

“I-I know what I’m saying. I’m saying–”

“You’re saying to just let you die,” Bruce sharply returns. “To give up, let you die, and leave us to grieve.”

“No–”

“Stephanie.”

You meet his eyes again at the name, which are resolute and as blue as ever.

“Cassandra. Duke.” Your stomach churns, imagining their smiling faces, turned into ash as your hypothetical passing. “Barbara.”

“Bruce,” you croak, pleading inwardly for him to stop.

“Damian.”

“Tim.”

“Jason.”

“Dick. Alfred.” You duck your head and your eyes meet the ground. The listing of all your loved ones pinches your heart, and you feel nauseous. You weren’t trying to leave them. You didn’t want to leave them at all.

“... Me.”

Your eyes sting with tears again. Why did he have to make it sound like that? Like you were seeking some selfish want, rather than trying to improve your quality of life. You feel your ambition and desire wane under the weight of guilt. You feel all sense of struggle start to disintegrate, lost to the fog in your head. Lost. You’ve lost.

Bruce’s eyes scrutinize you.

“As I suspected. You’re acting delirious. Manic. Delusional.”

Any semblance of protest dies in your throat.

“What?” you say. But Bruce is already leading you away towards the looming doors of Wayne Manor, away from the green of the grounds. Away from the light of the sun, and away from the skyline. He comforts you with familiar lines on the way to your bedroom.

You need rest. Alfred will brew his tea for you. I’ll call the kids to come tonight. We can play Risk. He pats your shoulder, stroking soft, deceptively warm circles with his thumb.

“You just need some rest.”

And not for the first time, you believe he may be right.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #tw gaslighting #bruce wayne #mine

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lovingmattysposts · 2 months

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You don't know me FINALE

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: the last part :(

"I went to Rose's grave" Chris stated looking away from me. I took in a breath and nodded as I reached over and grabbed his hand. "How is she?" I whispered. He didn't respond for a second and he blinked.

"I can't imagine her ever being angry. She didn't have a mean bone in her body" He shook his head. I just watched him as he spoke. I wanted to be here for him. I wanted him to know that I was listening.

"I learned a lot, I know that it was probably stressing you out that I wasn't responding to your texts and didn't call but-" He shook his head before bringing his eyes up to mine.

"I needed to just have some time. I just didn't know that until I got there" He breathed. I nodded running my finger over the back of his hand.

"You don't have to apologize" I whispered. He sighed closing his eyes. It was his time, I get that. Going to Rose's grave, the last thing he neeeded to think about was me. He lost someone he loved.

"What did you learn?" I asked after a few seconds, slightly scared for the answer, but there was no reason to panic over the way he's been acting towards me since he got back. He smiled slightly.

"How much I never want to lose you" He breathed. I smiled as I looked down at him. I shuffled down until out noses were pressed together.

"You'll never lose me Chris. I regret to inform you, I'll be here for a long long time" I smiled. He chuckled as he looked at me. He reached up brushing some of my hair behind my ear.

"Good" He whispered pressing his lips to mine softly, I almost didn't realize they were there. Then they were gone. "So you're not moving back to Boston then?" I almost whispered as he looked at me.

A small smile came to his face before he shook his head.

"Why would I move anywhere that you aren't?" He tilted his head. I smiled and kissed his cheek. It's when I pulled back when he spoke again.

"So are you going to tell me why you are living at Nate's house now?" He chuckled. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Long story short, Scott figured out that I wasn't his and kicked me out" I said leaning back slightly. He furrowed his eyebrows. "How did he--"

"He saw me at brunch with James and Nate" I explained before he could finish. Chris paused for a second before sighing.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you had to go through that" He breathed. I shook my head, placing my hand on his cheek. "You had your own stuff going on. I was fine on my own" I shook my head. He still looked upset about it.

"But I could have never done it without the strength that you've given me" I breathed honestly. I couldn't have. I probably would have cried and begged Scott to let me stay. I never would have attempted to reach out to James and I 100% would have never figure out that Scott wasn't my father, without Chris.

"You changed my life" I whispered. He smiled. "You changed mine more" He whispered before his lips connnected to mine.

I pulled back.

“You and Nate okay now?” I whispered as he hovered over me. He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, just laid down some ground rules” He smiled. I raised my eyebrows. “Ground rules?” I questioned. He chuckled and pressed his forehead into my shoulder.

“They’re stricter than James’s” he breathed. I rolled my eyes. “No sex in the house, no PDA in front of him, and skate with him whenever he asks” He lifted his head and looked at me.

I hummed.

“You’ve never been one for rule following have you Sturniolo?” I asked smirking at him. He smiled and shook his head. “No, I have not” He breathed pressing his lips down to mine.

1 year later

I screamed as I jumped off my feet into Chris's arms our robes flying over us. He chuckled as he spun me around set me back down on my heels. "We're done" I smiled shaking my head.

"We're done" He smiled back before kissing my forehead to avoid the cap against my head. I sighed almost feeling everything that's ever happened to me the last four years of high school lift off my shoulder with one piece of paper.

"Look" I opened my diploma and showed him my name across the sheet of paper. He smiled and opened his. "I know, I've got the same one" He showed me his. I rolled my eyes but couldn't swipe the smile.

"Yeah, but mine's prettier" I looked down at mine. He rolled his eyes and moved his arm around my shoulders. "Yes my love, yours is prettier" He smiled kissing the side of my face. I smiled before I saw my dad walk up to me.

"Dad! Look!" I cheered running up to him, almost feeling like a little kid as I opened my diploma and showed him. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/n" He hugged me. I just smiled as I leaned into him. I pulled back and he reached down straightening out my cap on my head. "You looked so beautiful up there" He smiled.

"James! Are you proud of me?" Chris said walking up behind me. He raised his eyebrow. "More or less" He shrugged. I smiled and shook my head looking up at Chris.

I couldn't stop smiling. Today was so perfect. I was done with highschool.

"This shit isn't fair. I have a whole other year" Nate grumbled as he walked up to us. "Language" My dad snapped at Nate. Chris lifted the cap off his head and placed it on to Nate's. "Look, it's like you almost graduated" Chris tilted his head holding back a laugh.

I reached up ruffling Chris's hair back down.

"Hey, at least you get to be captain two-years in a row. I don't think that's ever happened" I said looking at Nate. Nate smiled slightly over at me.

If I'm honest, It took a lot to bring Nate and I's relationship to where it is today. But we got here. We’re finally acting civil….as civil as sibling can be. My dad put his arm around me, pulling me towards him.

"I'm proud of you sweetheart" My dad whispered down at me. I smiled. I finally felt whole. Like I was taking a breath for the first time.

"Give me your diploma" Nate said looking at Chris. Chris glared at him. "No" He clutched it towards his chest. Nate lunged for it making them tumble at each other.

"Hey! hey!" I snapped, they pulled apart.

"Sorry" They said in unison.

"Hey, I need to find my grandpa. You're coming over tonight right?" Chris said stepping back. I smiled and nodded. "What? It's Friday. We always hang out on Friday" Nate crossed his arms.

"Just us, kid"

"Don't call me that" Nate snapped at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Y/n?" Chris caught my attention. "Yes, Your place at 6" I smiled. He smiled before running up to me and kissing me. My dad grumbled above me. "Okay, I love you. I'll see you later" He smiled before running off.

"Dad, stop pretending you hate Chris" I raised my eyebrows up at him. He rolled his eyes looking off to where he ran. "I like him, just not when he's kissing you" He mumbled. I shook my head.

"Y/n"

My dad's eyes raised behind me and I swore I saw the light leave him. I turned seeing my mother standing there with a small box in her hand. My mouth fell open.

"Mom" I breathed. She just looked at me. "What--What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming" I crossed my arms over my chest. She looked down at her feet.

The relationship between my mother and I had been rocky. I could count on one hand of how many times I've spoken to her in the past year. The times I've spoken to Scott, I couldn't count on any.

The transition between moving into James's house was quiet. Like they barley cared where I went, or they knew where I went and still didn't care.

"I didn't know I was--I just--" She shook her head before she raised it and made eye contact with my dad.

"James" She nodded at him. I stepped back looking at them. He took in a long breath. "Clara" He stated. I felt the tension in the air, it made me want to puke. Or run. I didn't know which.

"I just thought that...you know. It's your big day. I wanted to be here" She nodded. I nodded and looked at her before looking down at the box in her hand. She looked down at her hands.

"This is for you. For college and everything, just a little going away gift" She breathed holding out the box for me. I hesitantly took it out of her hands and nodded at her.

"Thank you" I breathed. She smiled and shifted on her feet awkwardly looking between James and I. "I'll be on my way now. I don't want to intrude" She said softly.

"We were going to go out to lunch—" My dad spoke suddenly. I looked up at him with wide eyes. His eyes were focused on my mom. "If you wanted to come. I'm sure Y/n would love to tell you about her plans to attend Michigan State in the fall" My father looked down at me.

I shook my head softly as if to say: No I don’t. He looked at me and he gave me a stern look.

"You're going to Michigan State?" My mom's voice asked softly. I turned and looked at her and gave a soft nod. She smiled almost genuinely at me. She took in a breath and looked around.

"I'm not sure Scott would like that very much, he doesn't even know i'm here" She breathed. I swallowed feeling the shame wash over me again as if I was being kicked out all over again.

God forbid my mother wanted to see me graduate.

My dad smacked his lips and nodded. I looked up at him. He was disappointed. Sad, almost. Fuck. Swallowing my pride and my hurt, I reached out.

"It would only be for an hour and I did want to get your opinion on some dorm shopping" I forced out of my mouth. My mother's face brightened. She smiled and nodded.

"Well, okay. Yeah, just an hour" She nodded smiling.

"Please be easy on her. He doesn't need any extra stress. It's the first time he's seen her in like 18 years" I breathed over to Nate, who looked less than happy. He took in a breath and looked down at his plate, with an unhappy expression.

"Just bite your tongue for one meal" I stated and he looked away from me and back down to his plate. He was less than pleased to hear my mother was joining us for dinner. To be honest, I wasn't jumping for joy either. But if I was sucking it up, he had to too.

"I still have those pins from that trip" My mother chuckled. My dad smiled up at her. "That’s incriminating yourself" He laughed shaking his head. She rolled her eyes.

"They'll never know I was the one who took them" She smiled shaking her head. I took in a breath looking down at my plate. Why did this feel like such a bad idea?

They were going on tangets about stories from their years in college. I just hope it doesn't dig up any more dirt than I'm willing to handle. This lunch was already pushing me to my limits.

My dad smiled down at his plate. A genuine smile. I smiled over at him. "Y/n, have you figure out a roommate yet?" My mother's voice brought be away from the look on my dad's face. I looked up at her.

"Yeah, Sydney's gonna room with me" I smiled nodding at her. She smiled and nodded. "I'm glad you two are still friends, she was a nice girl" She smiled in approvance. I nodded.

"Nate took Sydney on a date recently" James spoke up. Nate's eyes snapped up. "It wasn't a date" He said quickly. James smiled and looked down. I looked over at him.

"What? You didn't tell me that" I snapped. He looked up at me. "It wasn't a date" He repeated himself. I glared at him, mentally writing down to yell at Sydney for hiding that from me.

"You bought flowers" My dad spoke.

"Dad" Nate snapped.

My eyes widened and Nate shook his head looking down at his plate.

“You can’t date my best friend” I stated crossing my arms over my chest. He glanced up at me. “It’s weird. I don’t want—“

“You think I jump for joy everytime I have to watch you and Chris are all over each other in my house?” Nate snapped.

My mother looked up at me. I met her gaze. “You’re still seeing Chris?” She asked softly. I opened my mouth and closed it before looking down, remembering everything she’s ever said to me about Chris. About seeing someone like him.

“Yeah” I breathed softly. She nodded and looked down. “He seems like a nice boy” when the words left her mouth, I almost didn’t believe her. I looked up and she smiled at me.

I smiled down at my plate.

The rest of the lunch, I questioned Nate about his date with Sydney. He was vague, didn't say much. He ended the converstaion with a "shut the fuck up' and that was that. My dad and my mom spoke like old friends.

It was weird. It was almost like the whole letter situation never happened. Or the fact that she hid me from him for 18 years. It was like none of it ever happened and they were right back to where they were.

And I didn't know if it was a good thing.

"I've got the check" My dad picked up the paper. My mother reached out shaking her head. "No, please. Let me take it" She wiped her mouth with the napkin. He was already in the process of handing the waitress his card.

"James" She spoke.

"It's fine. My treat" He shook his head.

We got up from the table and walked towards the door. "Should I ask her if she's my new mommy now?" Nate whispered over to me. I elbowed him in the side. We stepped outside and I turned to my mom, letting out a breath.

"I'm up towards campus a lot. If you'll let me, I'd love to come visit sometime" She breathed down at me. I just looked up at her for a second.

I wondered if she genuinely missed me or not. If she was just saying this just to feel good about herself or feel like she at least tried. It's hard for me to sit here and believe there is honesty about her words. After all, she chose the money over me.

But she stared down at me with a look I'd never seen in her eyes before. Almost....hopefuless?

"Yeah maybe" I nodded. She smiled before reaching over and giving me a hug. I softly hugged her back. I don't remember the last time she's hugged me. I must have been 10. Maybe she did really miss me.

"Okay" She smiled placing her hands on my shoulders. She looked up at James. "Thank you for the lunch, James" She smiled. He nodded as they looked at each other.

I knew that look. I knew that look so well that I felt it. The way Chris looks at me. It pained me to see it in my dad's eyes when my mom wasn't the girl that deserved that kind of look from him.

"I have to go" She said pointing behind her. "Okay" He nodded. She just looked up at him for a second before turning and then looking back at us, then she was gone.

I looked up at James who just watched her walk away.

"Dad" I breathed. He still stared at her before he looked down at me. Another look. Pain. I knew that all too well too.

"Yeah. Okay, let's get you home" He broke from his trance and he placed his hand on my back as we walked home. I sighed and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I've got to go to the rink" Nate spoke before darting off in the other direction, looking down at his phone. James turned his head as he watched him walk behind us.

"Isn't the rink closed on Friday?" I asked looking up at my dad. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "And the rink is in the opposite direction" He chuckled, making me smile and shake my head.

We walked for a minute in silence. I couldn't help the questions that were eating me alive inside. I didn't know if I should ask them. I didn't want to intrude.

"Go ahead Y/n. I know you want to hound me" My dad chuckled from above me. I smiled up at him and laughed. "I don't want to hound you" I laughed. He rolled his eyes. I sighed and looked down.

"Do you think that--" I bit my lip.

"Do you think if I never happened, you would have gotten your happy ending with Clara?" I asked softly. He looked forwards as we walked. He bit his lip and shook his head.

"I used to think that I was never meant for a happy ending" He breathed. I looked down as my heels hit the pavement. "But I was wrong" He pulled me towards him. "I got you" He smiled. I smiled against him.

"I don't want you to worry about me anymore sweetheart. My story's over. You've got your own one going" He stated. I looked up at him. "I don't think anyone's story is ever over, until the book finally closes" I said looking up at him. He raised his eyebrows.

"You should have been a poet kid" He smiled. I shook my head.

"I'm so proud of you" He shook his head. I nodded. "You keep telling me that" I smiled. He squeezed me. "It's because I mean it" He stated making me smile.

“Are you gonna open your box?” He asked looking down at the unopened box in my hand that my mother had given me. I nodded before opening the top and looking down at it.

A pair of silver star earrings, ones that match my bracelet.

Silver. I don’t wear gold.

Maybe she does really know me, and she had all this time.

"I wanna show you something"

I blinked up at him as he looked down at me. "You're scaring me" I chuckled as I walked around him and landed on his bed. It was hard to believe he wouldn't live here anymore at the end of the summer. I loved this bed.

I laid down and sighed running my arms through the sheets. I sat up on my elbows and looked at him. "Chris" I chuckled as he stared down at me.

"I wanna show you something" He repeated. I nodded. "I heard you the first time" I smiled sitting up. I jumped off his bed as I spun around his room.

"Can you believe we graduated?" I gushed as I looked up smiling to myself. "It doesn't feel real" I shook my head. He just smiled and watched me. "No more tests, no more drama, no more useless information" I shook my head.

I looked over at him.

"Just us" I smiled. He slowly walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoudlers. "Can you relax for a second?" He chuckled. I pushed his arms off smiling.

"Make me" I smiled before grabbing his hands and pulling them towards me and pressing my lips to his. He smiled against me.

"When do you leave for Boston?" I whispered against his lips. He just stared down at me. "A few days before you move in to your dorm" He whispered back. I parted from him.

Chris got accepted to Boston College and Michigan State. Both his parents went to Boston College and he had a full ride there. It wouldn't have made sense if he stayed in Michgain. Even though, selfishly, I wanted him to. If he wanted to be in Boston, then that's where I wanted him to be.

I just tried not to think about it. Plus it was less than a 3 hour plane right. I put every last drop of my trust fund, that I wasn't using for my tution, into a savings account so I could pay for flights.

I knew I'd miss him a bunch so I saved it all so I wouldn't have to worry about the cost of the flight.

It was weird. Worrying about money for the first time in my life. But I had gotten used to it.

“You got new earrings” he smiled his fingers brushing hair behind my shoulder. I nodded reaching up and touching them.

“My mom got them for me, as a graduation gift” I smiled. He raised his eyebrows. “Silver too, wow” He smiled. I nodded felling the warmth in my chest.

"Can I show you what I want to show you now?" He chuckled. I smiled and nodded. I blinked up at him and he looked down at me.

"Are you gonna show me?" I smiled tilting my head as I stared at him. He just smiled at me. "Not here, come on" He grabbed my hands and dragged me out of his room.

A few minutes later we were trecking through the woods behind his house. I held his arm close to me as we walked, taking in the scent of him. I smiled to myself. Whatever I'd done right in my life, or wrong, has led me to this moment and I haven't been more happy.

I'd already started a wedding folder on my Pinterest board. My dad saw it and won't stop grumbling about it. I told him it wouldn't happen for years, but a girl can dream.

Chris reached up pulling branches out of my way so that I could step through to the clearing. I smiled as I dropped his arm and walked out hearing the sounds of the rushing stream.

I took in a breath. The view of his secret place never got old. I turned around and looked at him smiling as I hugged my arms over myself.

“Okay what did you want to show me?” I smiled in anticipation. He smiled at me before reaching down and pulling his sweatshirt off and throwing it towards the blankets.

“Ooo, a strip tease?” I chuckled as I walked up to him and placed my hands on his chest. “No” he laughed. I smiled and stepped back. He reached over pulling up his sleeve before revealing newly marked skin.

My eyes widened as I walked over go him and pressed my fingers to the red skin.

A new tattoo.

“Awe, a deer. That’s so cute” I smiled. He rolled his eyes. “Not a deer. It’s a doe you idiot” he chuckled. I froze before I looked back up at him connecting our eyes.

“What?” I breathed as I looked back down at the tattoo. My fingers moved over it. A small doe with small stars around it. It was on its hind legs reaching for a star. I swallowed as I felt my eyes start to water.

“Chris” I whispered looking at his arm, never wanting to look away from it. “Don’t cry, I wouldn’t have gotten it if I knew you were gonna cry” He chuckled. I reached up wiping my eyes.

“I’m not crying” I lied as I looked at it. He looked down at me with a small smile. I let his arm go and wrapped my arms around his shoulder, burring my face in his neck.

“I love you so much” I breathed. He wrapped his arm around my back as he held me against him. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.” He whispered back.

I leaned back before pressing my lips to his and leaning back.

“I don’t know what my life would be if I had never met you” I breathed pressing my forehead against his. He smiled and reached up wiping the tears under my eyes.

“Thank god you’re so persistent then” He smiled before pressing his lips back down to mine.

6 months later

“How much stuff does one person need?” Nate groaned as he dropped another box on the floor. I pushed him once the box dropped. “Be careful!” I snapped before opening it and inspecting the damage.

I picked up the picture frame. It wasn’t broken. I sighed of relief before holding it to my chest. I turned to Nate. “Idiot” I snapped.

I’d been on edge all day. Who knew the whole moving process would be so stressful?

“Hey, be nice. He’s helping you” My dad said kicking open the door and setting down another box. Nate crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, God forbid I break one of your 20 pictures of you and Chris. I mean really how many pictures does one girl need of their boyfriend?” Nate glared at me.

“A lot” I motioned over to Sydney’s side of the room that had at least five, just on the dresser of her and Nate. Nate blushed and turned away.

“What’d I miss?” Sydney smiled as she opened the door. I looked between her and Nate. I looked up at my dad. “Can you get the last box from the car please?” I smiled. He sighed and nodded as exited the room.

“Ground rules” I stated walking over to her side of the bed. Sydney and Nate glanced at each other before looking back over to me.

I picked up a picture frame.

“If you’re kissing in the photo, it doesn’t go on public display” I cringed holding it out for Sydney. She sighed and grabbed it out of my hand. Nate smiled and shook his head.

“You are not allowed to come over on weekdays” I pointed at Nate. Nate glared at me. “Hey! What? How is that fair? This is my dorm too” Sydney stepped forward.

“He’s my brother! As much as I want to watch you canoodle in this 14x14 box that we live in, I don’t. Weekends are even pushing it” I said crossing my arms.

“That’s like two days” Nate argued. I shook my head. “How would you feel if I had a guy over every single day?” I asked Sydney. She raised her eyebrows as if to say ‘that would never happen’.

“If Chris was here you would” Sydney stated. My smile dropped and I turned away from her picking up more picture frames. You could feel the shift in energy.

They both looked at each other and sighed.

“Weekends got it” Sydney mumbled looking down at her feet. I narrowed my eyes at Nate as I stood back up. He rolled his eyes. “You’re the not the boss of me and you can’t tell me when to see my girlfriend” He stated.

“You’re 17, I can technically tell you to do anything.” I stated back. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ll tell dad about the time you fell off the roof from sneaking in from Sydney’s over the summer” I snapped before he could say anything.

He glared at me.

“You’re just mad because Chris is 12 hours away. Don’t take it out on my relationship” He snapped back. I took in a breath and looked out the window.

Silence filled the room.

“Hey” Sydney said. I looked over at her. “I get it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I appreciate you being cool with me…you know dating your brother and everything” She breathed looking over at Nate, who still wore an angry expression.

“But can Friday count as the weekend?” She smiled. I looked between them. Sydney smiled brightly at me.

“Fine. But don’t do anything weird” I pointed at her. She held her hands up. Sydney back up before looking back at Nate. Her phone buzzed before she looked down at it.

“Uh…hey Nate!” She said loudly. Nate looked over at her. “Do you mind..assisting me with the rest of my belongings?” She said glancing from me to him. I just watched them.

“What?” Nate said looking at her. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Just come on” She groaned pulling him out of the room.

I sighed as I picked up the box off the floor and set it on my desk. I reached in and picked up each picture frame placing it strategically on my desk. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I wish I could say that I’m taking this new long-distance thing well, but I’m not. After everything we’ve been through, I thought that I could do this. That it wouldn’t be hard for me.

Hell, he hasn’t been gone a week and I’m in pieces. I’ve tried not to think about it. Occupying most of my days planning out and picking out my dorm room decorations and watching wheel of fortune with my dad until he fell asleep.

The one thing I’d been putting off is printing out these pictures. I’d sat in my room placing them in the frames, tears running down my face.

I never wanted to be that girl. I mean Christ, he’s not dead. He’s just 12 hours away. 12 long traitorous hours away.

My thumb ran over a picture of me and Chris on graduation day. My smiling face pressed against his. He clearly didn’t want to be taking the photo, but I had forced him.

I sighed as I place it next to my mirror.

Chris is proud of me. Proud that I went where I wanted to go and proud that I pushed him where he wanted to go. It’ll all work out in the end. After all were us.

I heard a small knock on the door.

“Yeah?” I mumbled, my eyes still on the frame.

“I heard word that a very pretty lady was staying in this room, came to see for myself”

I turned around practically dropping the picture frame.

Chris smiled down at me with a box in his hand and a hat on his head.

“Chris!” I screamed running forward making him drop the box by his feet as I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I squeezed him tight. This wasn’t real.

“Oh my god” I pulled on him tighter. “Hi baby” he chuckled as he held me. I pulled back taking his face in my hands.

“What—what are you doing here?” I shook my head smiling. He placed me back on my feet as he smiled down at me.

“What? You thought you were the only one moving in today?” He asked tilting his head. I furrowed my eyebrows. “What?” I whispered not understanding.

Nate, my dad, and Sydney walked through the room smiling. I held onto Chris, almost scared that he was going to disappear.

“What’s going on?” I smiled at them.

“It seems that transferring is way easier that I thought, especially since the school year hasn’t started yet” Chris mumbled against the top of my head. I looked up at him.

“What? What about Boston?” I shook my head. He shrugged. “They had a better program here. Plus I’d get to see your face everyday, can’t do that in Boston” He smiled down at me.

I looked at my dad.

“You knew about this?” I asked shaking my head. He smiled and shrugged. “We didn’t know for sure, we didn’t want to tell you before it was finalized” My dad shook his head.

I looked back at Chris.

“You go here?” I teared up.

“Go Spartans” He smiled.

I laughed before leaning up and pressed my lips against his.

“Gross” Nate mumbled. Sydney and my dad hit him at the same time. “Ow” Nate glared at them rubbing his arms.

“What was that thing about weekends again?” Sydney tilted her head. I glared at her. “Shut it” I smiled. She shook her head.

“Are you just gonna keep these things wherever you go?” Chris breathed as we laid in my bed. I looked over at him tearing my eyes from the ceiling. “Yeah. What about it?” I smiled. He shook his head smiling.

“Someone special gave them to me” I breathed as I looked up at the plastic stars on my ceiling. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Chris?”

“Yes?”

I looked up at him and he smiled down at me.

“I didn’t want to pull you away from Boston. If you really wanted to go there, I would have been fine with that” I breathed quietly, feeling the guilt swarm in my chest.

"You know" He brushed a piece of hair out of my face. I just watched him. "As soon as I hit Boston ground, I knew I made a mistake leaving" He whispered.

"It was kind of like that gut feeling that.....you knew something was wrong" He shook his head. I laid my head against him as he spoke. "There's not a point for the rest of my life that I want to be more than five minutes away from you, unless you want me to be" He smiled down at me. I smiled at him.

"Plus the program here for my major is technically better" He smilled. I leaned up and kissed him softly.

"Are we gonna make it?" I whispered against his lips.

"There's not a doubt in my mind, princess"

THE END

AHHHH HEY GUYS! thank you so much for all of the love, support, and scary threats to update.....lol. I hope you loved the ending of this and you can imagine how you want how they go throughout their colleges years, etc.

I hope you loved this story and all the twists and turns and as always give me your thoughts on it. I love you guys.

Autumn 🧡

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 21 days

Note

Blood and Cheese does not happen. Instead, Daemon plots with his connections to kidnap Aegon’s most prized possession: his wife. They ask Agon and the Greens to give up the throne and she will be returned. Aegon is furious

Requests for HotD are opened again! I have a few in the work already, so make sure you are on the taglist to be notified when I post them <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The guards standing on each side of the small council chamber bowed their heads at their king. Aegon hated these meetings, finding them lengthy and uninteresting, but now that he wore the crown, he couldn't escape them.

He pushed the large door open and stepped in. Inside, one person sat at the table: his mother. Beside her, a man in armor stood. Their hushed conversation ceased as he arrived.

Alicent glanced at her son with a somber expression. ‘’Please have a seat,’’ she beckoned.

Aegon furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’Where is everyone else?’’

‘’Council meeting is canceled today,’’ she informed him gravely. ‘’We have more urgent matters to discuss.’’

Seating himself at the table's head, Aegon braced himself for what was to come. The tension in the chamber was palpable, and he knew something serious had happened.

Alicent hesitated for a moment, her eyes betraying the weight of the news she carried. ‘’There's been an incident,’’ she began, her voice strained. ‘’Before I explain further, I need you to stay calm.’’ Her eyes held Aegon’s, waiting for a silent promise before pursuing. ‘’We all know that Daemon still has connections in the city. Some of his men breached our defenses and infiltrated the castle and she…she was taken by the Blacks.’’

Aegon laughed dryly. This had to be a joke.

But he found no sign of jest in his mother’s solemn expression.

The king turned to the lord commander standing to her left. ‘’Where is my wife, Ser Criston?’’ he implored, still in disbelief that you had been taken.

Ser Criston's gaze fell to the ground, his silence speaking volumes. ‘’I regret to conform, your grace,’’ he murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. ‘’The queen has been taken.’’

Aegon felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath him. His wife, his beloved, stolen from him — kidnapped — by the hands of their enemies.

‘’We've received a raven from Dragonstone,’’ Alicent informed, clearing her throat. She forwarded the rolled piece of parchemin to Ser Criston, who handed it to Aegon.

He unrolled the parchemin and read the message: As a result of stealing from the rightful heir, something of yours has been taken. Abandon the throne and she will be returned.

Aegon's jaw clenched so tightly that the parchment in his hand crumpled beneath his grip. His violet eyes filled with wrath as rage spread through his blood.

He rose to his feet, his voice dripping with fury. ‘’Ser Criston, tell the dragonkeepers to get Sunfire out of the dragonpit. I will go to Dragonstone myself and—’’

‘’I’d rather not,’’ Alicent interjected, her tone icy. ‘’Going to Dragonstone is driving yourself to your own death.’’

‘’I will not stand idly by while my wife is held captive by our enemies!" In a surge of anger, Aegon tore the silver crown from his head and flung it to the ground with all the force of his rage, the clang of the Valyrian steel reverberating off the stone walls like a thunderclap.

At his outburst, Alicent's lips pressed into a thin line. ‘’You may leave us, Ser Criston.’’

The lord commander nodded and exited the small council chamber in silence, leaving the king and his mother alone.

‘’You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne?’’ she stated, her tone heavy with implication.

Aegon's frustration boiled over, and he leaned against the back of his chair. He ran his hands through his silver hair, tugging at the roots in a gesture of despair and anguish. ‘’I never asked for that throne!’’ he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion.

All he wanted was his wife back, it was all he needed — you.

During his father’s reign, the castle had never been threatened. Viserys was a peaceful king, one who stayed away from conflicts. Therefore, he never had to worry about the loyalty or competence of his kingsguard.

Now that he had fallen and that a civil war had begun, the safety - and life - of those who lived in the castle was at risk. In the days following Aegon's coronation, all who had refused to swear to him had been beheaded. So, how could this have happened?

‘’I want these men’s heads,’’ he declared, his voice filled with a mixture of vengeance and determination as he straightened. ‘’Plot against the king and I will pay it back a hundred times over.’’

—

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