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#she can hate me she can never forgive me but if shes alive she can DO that
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The Apothecary Diaries
S1E24 First Watch
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Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.
If you want to start at the beginning:
Episode 1
My character/locations cheat sheet:
Master Shishou - Lady Loulan's father
Suirei: court lady who tried to assassinate Jinshi
Final episode of season one let's go!
Lakan: Fengxian. I wanted to be with the daughter we (she)* left behind. That was my only wish.
*There is a mismatch of the words being spoken in English dub and the English subtitles.
Oh does he think Fengxian is dead? Shit. Do I need to retract some of the mean shit I said about him last time?
We see Lakan sitting in the brothel staring at the dried rose that Maomao left for him, and the severed fingers that he treasures. He's thinking of seeing Maomao as a child
Lakan: It's natural for her to hate me, but I still wanted her close by.
So he did try to come and claim Maomao at some point. And why couldn't he? Did the ladies at Verdigris House prevent him from taking her? Did Luomen? Did Lakan ultimately decide he couldn't raise this little girl for some other reason?
Lakan: But that despicable man. I'll never forgive him for placing his hand on my daughter's shoulder three times during our match.
First of all, we are still seeing these creepy game-piece-headed nightmares in this episode. When will it end?
Second of all, I didn't notice that Jinshi was touching Maomao in the last episode. I'm fairly certain it was not shown, which to me indicates that it happened but Maomao didn't take notice of it. Is casual touch so commonplace that it doesn't warrant notice, or was she so focused on the game that it was irrelevant.
Lastly, WTH Lakan? Wasn't he the one cracking jokes about Jinshi and Maomao last episode? And, can no one in this show read the fricking room? Obviously, there is something happening between these two. I suppose Lakan has an excuse with his face blindness, but honestly I expected better from him.
Lakan: The question is how do I exact my revenge?
Well Lakan, I think you'll have to choose between your two goals of having Maomao close by and exacting revenge on Jinshi, because those two goals are in opposition. If Lakan ever wants to have a relationship with Maomao, he will have to leave Jinshi alone, because Maomao is not going to tolerate Lakan screwing with her man employer.
Granny comes to talk to Lakan about picking a courtesan. I had this all wrong apparently. I thought Maomao was intending for him to take care of her mother. It seems he can pick any courtesan that he wants.
Lakan approaches Meimei, who says she would be glad to accept, though her body language says otherwise. She opens the doors to the courtyard where Fengxian can be heard singing. Granny is not happy, but Lakan takes off running towards the sound.
Lakan: A withered flower still retains it's beauty. If that was suppose to be a message... it can't be!
So he didn't know Fengxian was alive then? Which means I can't blame him for not stepping forward to care for her in the past.
Lakan runs, frantic, to where the singing is coming from. He enters Fengxian's room. She's turned away looking out the window, but she's singing a song that Lakan can't forget. And he's stunned. Like seeing a ghost. He's staring at a woman he thought was dead. A single tear falls down his face.
Ah shit. That's some good drama right there.
Lakan picks Fengxian. He'll pay any amount. Granny can't believe this. She's not happy. It doesn't make sense. Did she forget about the history between these two?
And what was granny's role in all of this anyway? Did she give Lakan the impression that Fengxian was dead? Why would she do that? Couldn't granny have taken advantage of Lakan's interest in Fengxian and sold off the otherwise worthless Fengxian? My guess is that Fengxian hated Lakan so much at that point, that Granny thought she needed to protect her from going to him. She's not as avaricious as she would make herself seem.
Fengxian is spacing out. To get her attention, Lakan places some Go pieces in her hand. When she finally turns to him, he asks her to play a game with him, then full on ugly cries.
It's a beautiful moment. After all the problems that kept these two apart, they are finally reunited.
They play on the bed, without a board, but it seems that at least this part of Fengxian's mind remains, because she's making cleaver moves. Lakan reminisces about how they used to play and credits Fengxian for Maomao's strengths. Does she deserve that credit...
Meimei is overwhelmed. She cries. She blames Granny for keeping these two apart.
Lakan says he will buy Fengxian's contract, and when he sees her he sees her as she was in her prime. Beautiful, without the bandages or the disease, or the any of the changes that time has wrought. Does he see her this way because of his love for her, or because of his face blindness?
I wonder how much of Fengxian's mind remains. How much does she understand about what is happening? How much, if at all can she consent to this? Perhaps that is Granny's concern as well. For someone so out of their mind, and at the end of their life, I can't see what Lakan's presence can do to benefit Fengxian. Perhaps he improves her legacy, by giving her tale a nicer ending, but as far as her experience of it goes... he's too late.
This is all for Lakan's benefit. He is reunited with the woman he loved, he get's to finally buy out her contract like he wanted to so many years ago. He gets to erase some of his regrets, correct some of his miscalculations. It's a redemption for him, though a selfish one since he is the only one who benefits from it. Arguably, Verdigris House benefits as well, but he sure as hell ain't doing this for them. I could listen to an argument that he is doing this in part because he believe Maomao wants him to, but primarily, I think this is all for himself.
(I'm sorry Lakan fans. I will try harder on the rewatch to unearth some love for your dude)
Maomao is returning from the Verdigris House with ray-of-sunshine, Basan! They oversee Lady Loulan and her father conversing, and Basan calls the two of them snakes. Maomao, rightly, thinks that's a pretty dangerous thing to say. She doesn't want to lose her head just because Basan can't keep his nasty opinions to himself. And though Maomao always avoids gossip, I very much want to know what Basan knows about Lady Loulan and Master Shishou.
Maomao is dead tired, she has been working her ass off for the last month to grow those roses for the Garden Party, and now she just wants to sleep, but Basan informs her that Jinshi wants to see her first.
Jinshi: You must be tired. Maomao: Not really.
Why lie about this? My guess is that Maomao doesn't want anyone to fuss over her. Her wellbeing isn't important anyway, so why mention how she feels?
But Suiren does worry over Maomao, mentioning how much weight she's lost since the last time she saw her. Good. I'm glad to see this more obvious show of care for Maomao. I really just want everyone to love on this girl and take care of her.
Oh and she's "Xiaomao" to Suiren now too. ❤️She gets a nice big meal and is told to eat up.
Jinshi wants to know what the deal is with Maomao and her dad. Maomao explains that she doesn't hate Lakan.
Maomao: Afterall, I would not even be here if he weren't able to land his shot so to say. ... No courtesan bears a child if she doesn't want one.
And that makes a lot of sense actually. Maomao explains how women can prevent pregnancy, abort unwanted pregnancies, predict their fertility... it all points to the conclusion that Fengxian wanted to use Lakan to get pregnant.
Last episode we saw how Fengxian's plan all came crashing down by unforeseen circumstances. In her rage she cut off both her own finger as well as that of her infant.
Maomao explains to Jinshi about Lakan's face blindness. Jinshi, who has no issues with empathy, thinks that's unfortunate. Luomen was the one who told Maomao about Lakan's condition, and he also thinks the condition is quite sad. I wonder if Maomao knows that Luomen is Lakan's uncle? Maomao thinks that Lakan's obsession with her comes from the fact that she is one of the very few people whom Lakan can recognize.
Jinshi has kept a large vase of the blue roses that Maomao grew for him, because he's in love with her they were just going to be thrown out otherwise, and Maomao reflects while looking at them. She wonders if her meaning was clear enough when she sent the withered rose to Lakan.
She claims again that she doesn't hate Lakan. She's grateful to have been born and have been raised by Luomen. Jinshi pushes back, recalling her intense reaction when Lakan's name came up before.
Maomao: No offense, but you've got a lot to learn Master Jinshi.
You don't know me. Yet.
Maomao is also grateful that Lakan helped her interrupt the ceremony that would have killed Jinshi.
Maomao: It's like he had a feeling something bad was going to happen too.
Gee, almost like he knew somethin about it, or had figured it out already?
Maomao explains that Lakan doesn't need evidence to form his conclusions. He can pick up on subtleties that aren't even conscious, to use gut feelings that are rarely wrong. Maomao regrets that Lakan can't be depended on to actually act on these feelings. She believes she could have stopped Suirei from escaping if Lakan had gotten involved earlier and she would now have the secret resurrection drug that Suirei hinted at.
Maomao is jealous of Lakan. Luomen praises Lakan without caveats, something she can only wish for. Friends. I know you all think I'm too hard on Luomen, and it's probably true. And I feel compelled to say that I don't hate him or even dislike him. I know Maomao loves Luomen and he's done all he can for her. But she's still hurt by his lack of praise. It's had an effect on her emotional and psychological development.
Maomao warns Jinshi not to underestimate Lakan.
Gaoshun adds that no father wants to be disliked by their children. Okay Gaoshun, are you projecting here? Some dads are dicks, and absolutely deserve to be disliked whether they like it or not. Does Gaoshun worry that his children don't like him? Is it because Basan is his son? He really shouldn't take Basan's pissy attitude personally, he's like that with everyone!
Meimei sends a package with a beautiful shawl and news from the brothel. She hopes that Maomao will dance for her when she is bought out. Maomao actually picks up the shawl and spins around with a soft sigh. Does Maomao enjoy dancing? Something she picked up at the brothel perhaps?
Maomao seems inspired by the gift. She sits down in front of her makeup and a beautiful outfit that is on a rack in her room.
Cut to Jinshi watching the sunset. Is the sunset just a transition to a night scene or is it symbolic of closure in the story? We are coming to the end of not just this episode but this entire season, so a sunset is certainly appropriate.
Maomao stands atop the wall of the palace, dressed in her finery, looking out to the bright city beyond. We get a glimpse of Maomao's yet unhealed leg, her freckles, her lovely courtesan's dress, her beauty. An amalgamation of all the different parts that make up Maomao. She is here to dance, as Meimei suggested. Here on the same wall where two other women have stood earlier in the season with drastically different results.
The show revisits a recurring theme from throughout the season: for women who live in a cage there are only two ways out, freedom or death.
First we had seen the concubine who danced atop the wall as she waited for her lover to return and secure her release. Freedom.
Later we saw the servant girl who plunged into the moat to end her life. Death.
And now Maomao, who often walks the line between the two. Over the course of this season we've seen her struggle with both. When the servant girl died, we heard suicidal ideation from Maomao. We've also seen her ingest deadly poison. Always flirting with death, not sure if she should welcome it or fight against it.
And freedom. We've seen her at the crossroads of her life, with decisions ahead of her. Particularly, with whether she should remain in the Pleasure District or return to the Rear Palace. And Maomao struggled with freedom, caught by indecision.
In this moment, under the stars, she doesn't have to think. She's feeling. A deviation from her usual modus operandi. Perhaps with Meimei's letter she can let go of some of the turmoil from her past. Fengxian is with Lakan now, that knot that has finally been undone. Her sisters in Verdigris House are safe and happy for the moment, with hope for each of their futures. Maomao is in the Rear Palace to watch over Lady Gyokuyou and the ladies of the Jade Pavilion. And Jinshi is safe, after both an attempt on his life by Suirei and an attempt on his reputation from Lakan. So for the moment the people Maomao loves are safe, and she can stand on top of a wall and dance under the stars and just feel.
Of course the practical reason behind it is that she's practicing to make sure she remembers the steps. Meimei asked her to dance for her after all.
And Jinshi is here. It's the end of the final episode. I'd be disappointed if he didn't show up.
She's so surprised to see him, she nearly falls off the roof. Maomao... I know you are an anime girl but isn't that a little cliché...
No matter, it offers Jinshi a chance to catch her. He always will.
Jinshi: I got a report about another weird woman who was climbing up the outer wall.
It's a recurring problem in this palace.
Jinshi: You're always causing me trouble.
And you fricking love it. Shut up.
Maomao was recognized by the guard that saw her go up the wall, and the guard was wise enough to go directly to Jinshi. Of course Jinshi came himself.
Maomao explains that in the Pleasure District, that when a courtesan is bought out that it is customary for the others to dance in her honor. Ahh, so she's dancing for her mother then.
That Lakan has bought a courtesan is big news in the Pleasure District, and even in the palace. The number of lamps on the street, as well as the number of banquet days, indicate that a courtesan of the highest status was bought out, though the public never sees her. We get a glimpse of Fengxian in red. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe red is the color of wedding garments. I'm not sure if that's intentional here or not. But in any case, no one, not even me, can mistake Lakan's grand romantic gesture in treating Fengxian with so much respect.
Jinshi questions who Lakan may have bought out at the Verdigris House, and Maomao plays dumb, which is not fooling Jinshi.
Jinshi: Just who did the strategist buy out any way? Maomao: What? As if I should know. Jinshi: Yes. Without a doubt. Maomao: No matter how beautiful she is, she would never be a match for you. Jinshi: That didn't answer my question.
She doesn't want to say. And he's not going to push her. She tries to deflect, and he lets her. He once again is asking her to open up to him, and she is still saying not yet. But Jinshi never gives up on Maomao. He will simply let her have her secrets for now. But he's so steadfast in his pursuit of Maomao that the audience can have no doubt that he will continue to try.
Fengxian won't last long. She's in the end stages of her disease. Maomao reflects on how her birth affected the reputation of Verdigris House. No one spoke to Maomao about who her mother was, because Grams tried to protect that information, but Maomao discovered it anyway. Prideful Fengxian couldn't recover from the shame of her failed plans, her loss of reputation, and she always chased Maomao away. Maomao claims that none of it matters to her. She's just happy being Luomen's daughter. I don't believe she's so unaffected, but that's an issue for a future season!
Maomao's macabre fun facts are not in fact fun for Jinshi, as she explains that you can cut off the tip of your finger and that it will grow back. I'm glad she didn't lose this part of her that was taken by one parent to curse the other. Instead it grew back. She may be scarred from the experience but she is whole. A metaphor.
When Maomao collapses, Jinshi demands to know what's wrong to which Maomao rambles off a list of horrifying truths. Maomao's leg wound won't heal. It has opened up again. She didn't notice it because she has a high pain tolerance. Probably due to all the drugs she's taken. No problem, she can just plop down and stitch it right back up.
NO. That's not happening. Jinshi has fucking had it with this girl. He then picks her up and leaps. off. the. wall. It was a little hot. I'm so used to Jinshi simping and being generally uncool, that I get caught off guard when he's actually being hot. Maomao does too. Especially since he switches to a princess carry.
Maomao gets deadly serious for a moment. She stares Jinshi in the eyes, touches his face and leans in. Jinshi is thinking this is it. It's finally happening. Only for Maomao to ask if she can now have the ox bezoar. Is she trying to provoke him? She gets headbutted for that one. I'm typically against physical violence, but I have to say, this seems justified. Maomao is happy about it too, because now she knows she's dealing with the real Jinshi.
Lady Gyokuyou pays for premium so she gets front row access to her favorite romcom. Jinshi has come to see Maomao. This final interaction is just basically this whole show in a nutshell. The ladies of the Jade Pavilion are teasing Maomao, because they love her, and they know her boyfriend totally platonic employer is watching. Jinshi says something interesting has come up and he thought of Maomao, which of course peaks her curiosity. We don't get to hear what Jinshi wanted to ask of Maomao, but we get the impression that things will carry on much as they have been until we can see these beloved characters again.
The storytellers promise us a second season. So yay!
Thanks to the like 10 people who enjoyed this blog. It was very fun for me to write. Your comments, likes and reblogs gave me life.
I loved getting to know these characters and trying to get inside their heads. The characters are so well written, and the plot is so big and juicy. There seems to be no end to the layers of the story. It's truly fantastic.
The Apothecary Diaries is a new favorite of mine now, and since I've made it to the end of this season, I'm looking forward to not having to scroll past JinMao content on my feed to avoid spoilers!
I haven't decided if I should hold out for more of the show and continue to watch it with fresh eyes like I did for this blog, or if I should just jump into the light novels or manga. Does anyone know, are both of those things complete with a good English translation?
This won't be my last content for The Apothecary Diaries. I'm known to compulsively shit post in the fandoms I follow, so I'm sure I won't be able to resist doing that. But, perhaps once I've had some time to think on this I will have some more meta analysis to offer. I do plan to rewatch the entire season. Though I won't reblog to this degree, I may jump back in the comments on some of these blogs and add some new insights.
If you like this kind of thing and want me to do it for another one of your favorites let me know! My recommendations box is ever open. I love any kind of engaging story, in any format, and am happy (unable to stop myself) to post about it on the internet! Just tell me what you love and where to start.
Until then I guess I'm into this now.
To start at the beginning:
Episode 1
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theprinceandthewitch · 8 months
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I'm pretty much done with TOH lol.
A braver and more energetic soul can try giving this show a constructive critique... because I will actually, wholeheartedly lose my humanity while writing out the script.
There is like... a problem this show has that permeates the whole thing: It says its going to do one thing, but then does something completely different. Like how the first two episodes of the series make you believe Luz is going to learn how her inability to separate fantasy from reality is actually inhibiting her growth as a person... only to make her a chosen one and to give her everything she ever wanted without Luz changing the way she treats people.
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devilbrakers · 1 year
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OC DUALITY
was tagged by @morvaris​ to take this uquiz for my ocs >:) thank you nico this was super fun!!
tagging: @numbaoneflaya @time-is-a-lake @aartyom @nuclearstorms @girlbosselrond @druidgroves @malefiicarum @swordcoasts  @aldcaldos @sufferthorn @steelport @calenhads @lavinet​ and anyone else who’d like to join in !!
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you and the hat man
oh boy you're fighting demons aren't you? it's like you're in a constant staring competition with something that's always in the peripheral. what the fuck. (at least, that's how people who don't know you would react). at this point you've probably gotten pretty familiar with the hat man. he's a reliable kind of guy. keeps to himself, sure, but you can trust him to be there. maybe a haunting isn't too bad if it's never left your side. you can only imagine what it will be like when he's not there any more.
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god-hungry scientist and their abominable child
you stitched something together inside of yourself and gave it life with light from the sky and now it won't die and you can't kill it because part of you loves it and you're not quite right in the head or the person you used to be but at the end of the day it's simply a beast of sadness. you crave the mercy you didn't get from your creators and so i'm telling you please forgive yourself. please hold the monster by the hand.
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moon curse of the werewolf
you have found yourself hungered or sickened or ambitious to the point of emotional carnage. you are fine, until you're not, and then you could rip someone in your way apart with your bared teeth by complete accident, and later claw at yourself in fits of pain trying to apologize. do you look at the moon that blessed you in her name, at her marred beauty and baneful eyes, and wish she could just crush that loving-hateful heart of yours before it crushes itself? every bite you take out of flesh is a response to the threads of silver bullets in you that haven't healed. the duality is that the human inside is howling too, gnashing, and without the wolf pelt, everyone can ignore it and turn away. at some point, you got tired of the moon being your only witness. now the wolf is there to make sure others know that you are hurt, and deserving of humanity, of attention to wounds. because that wolf loves you; all of you; and knows when you are hurt better than yourself.
#feel free to ignore this if you want !! idk how many people have already been tagged fjsdkl#anyway. going to be annoying abt this in the tags now <3#the main thing that gets me abt gray's is the 'maybe a haunting isn't too bad if it's never left your side'#like????? ik the hat man thing is probs supposed to be funny and it kinda is but it fits them so well#almost everyone close to them has died or left them atp but maybe it isn't so bad. just to have one constant#dmitri :| yeah. yeah#everything he felt he had to become to save his sister who was dead the whole time anyway but ended up being a better survival tactic anyway#so he just stuck with it until he died but then he comes back as a demon and now he has to live with what he did forever#i don't think he really could ever forgive himself. mainly for failing nina but it's started to eat him alive less and less over the years#mainly bc he does everything he can not to think about it too much but he also doesn't really want to totally get rid of that part of#himself. the part that was capable of torturing and killing all those people bc it really was powered by love and desperation to some extent#and that proves that maybe he has some shred of humanity left even if she's been gone for decades now#not that he does shit like that anymore. but he's capable and willing to for those he loves even if they'd probably hate him for it#and miko's :(#yeah#lashing out at people when it gets to be too much which is often given the life that she lives and then beating herself up for it nonstop#but it's also a way to protect herself and even tho she died young it got her pretty far#and it helped her protect other people (mainly gray and blake) when it came down to it because she couldn't stand seeing them hurt either#idk if i articulated myself v well but yeah jfdsklfdjs my dmc gang are all my blorbos#my ocs#tag#gray#dmitri#miko
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madschiavelique · 9 months
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
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Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
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chaoticbardlady99 · 5 months
Text
I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)
Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.
While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.
CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut
To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess
Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂
*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me
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*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!
You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.
You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.
You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.
It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.
A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.
A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.
For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.
Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.
Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.
“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”
You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.
Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.
You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.
You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.
You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.
You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.
Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.
He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.
He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.
The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.
Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.
Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.
When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”
Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.
The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.
Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”
Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.
“Sick? For how long?”
Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”
“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”
“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.
Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.
Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?
Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.
“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.
Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.
Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.
Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.
If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.
Shadowheart be damned.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!
You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.
You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.
You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-
“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”
“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”
“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”
Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.
“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.
You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.
Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?
Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.
Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.
It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.
You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.
“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”
“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”
Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.
“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”
“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”
Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!
Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”
“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”
“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.
Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”
“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”
“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”
Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.
You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”
Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.
You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.
“A girl?”
His question breaks the air.
“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.
A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.
“You don’t want to be involved?”
Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.
“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”
You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”
His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.
“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”
You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.
“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”
Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.
“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”
Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.
You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.
Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”
“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”
“What wish?”
It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.
“Right… that.”
The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.
“Astarion-“
“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”
You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.
“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”
You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.
“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”
You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.
Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”
Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”
“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”
747 notes · View notes
gglitch1dd · 1 month
Note
Okay so I know cheating izuku isn’t canon so how would canon izuku deal with the death of his son?
Oh that's a hard one. But... its a beautifully sad one.
Cheating Dilf Izuku X Wifey Reader
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Warning: Death of a child, coping with grief, depression, hurt to comfort
"It's been a while, Mr Midoriya."
"Yah, it has."
"So how have you been?"
Izuku sat in the couch opposite his agency's therapist. He sat in front of him. a notebook in his lap as he looked back at the green haired man. Izuku had his arms folded over his chest as he sat there, his large frame supported by the grey couch he sat on. He shrugged. "Fine."
"I've heard you've been very busy with work. How has that been for you?"
Izuku shrugged. "Busy. Crime never stops."
His therapist hummed. "How has life been since the trial?"
The trial... It was suffocating endeavour. He hated every second of it. Having to look as Jigsaw, who was alive and well, taken care on taxpayer money and locked behind bars alive, while his son was nothing but a pile of ashes now.
Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his face emotionless. "Fine."
"He got the death penalty. What do you think about it?"
"It's well deserved." Izuku answered without hesitation, his hands gripping his muscles tighter.
The therapist noted something done for a moment before looking back up at him with a gentle demeanour. "Your wife made an interesting statement during the trial. She said, 'Despite what you did to my son, I know he forgives you and he would want me to forgive you. Although I doubt I can ever find it in my heart to do so, I'll try...' What did you think about her statement?"
Izuku was silent as he remembered that day of the trial. You held yourself as gracefully as ever. Even when the forensic pathologist had said the report on how Shoyo and Sero Kimiko's (Hanta and Mina's youngest daughter) bodies were so badly damaged that he couldn't even identify certain body parts of what remained of them, about how there was quite literally nothing to hold or mourn over because they had to be cremated almost immediately. Even when Jigsaw had time to speak and vividly said how your son had cried out your name, begging for you in his last moments of life.
You were composed, other than a few stray tears and an emotionless voice.
"My wife is a better person than me." Izuku stated, remembering his own statement about how the only thing protecting Jigsaw's life was the fact that Izuku had his quirk cancelled for every trial date.
"Speaking of which, how is your Mrs Midoriya?"
For the first time since walking into the room, Izuku seemed to ease just slightly. His eyes fell down. How were you? In total honest, Izuku wasn't sure. When last had he even looked at you? Izuku didn't even take time off to mourn after the trial. He went straight into work.
When last had he seen you? This morning? What did you make for breakfast? What were you wearing?
"I..." He started, his voice unsure. "I think she's fine."
"You think?" His therapist asked softly. "You aren't sure, Mr Midoriya?"
Izuku looked down away from the man that sat across from him. He didn’t answer that question because he wasn’t sure how you were. At some point he wasn’t even sure you left the bed at all after the funeral, but then at some point he knew you were up and around.
“When last did you speak to your wife?”
“This morn-”
“Honestly speak to your wife?” That question had him frozen. “When last did you ask her how her day was, or how has she been coping?”
Izuku knew that his therapist knew that answer. You had been coming to see a therapist as well, a mandatory thing that the commission expected from the both of you but also one you bot probably needed direly. Izuku looked away as his eyebrows furrowed. “Not for a while.” He answered simply.
“Do you not care about her anymore?”
Green eyes flicked up to the psychologist that sat across from him. His eyes were dark and deadly, one that held brewing anger beneath the surface. “You know that’s not true.” Izuku answered back lowly.
“Do I?” His therapist asked with a shrug. The man looked down at the notebook he had, flipping through his pages. “In not one of our sessions have you willingly spoken about your wife or children and when asked, all you state is a simple ‘fine’. It leaves anyone thinking that you find work more important than your family right now.”
“I’m a busy man, I’m the number one hero, I don’t have time to-”
“To have a five-minute conversation with your wife and kids?”
Izuku froze for a second. He let out a scoff as he stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He stated as he moved to exit out of the room.
“Mr Midoriya, when you first started seeing me, you told me that I should be harsh and frank with you.” That made the large hero paused. “You told me that if you were going to be sitting here for an hour at a time, I should make it worth your time. So here I am.” His therapist responded calmly as he crossed his legs leaning back in his chair. “You leave out of that door right now, I will have no choice but to inform the commission that you are unfit and unwell to continue your job as a hero and have you suspended of all hero work until I deem you fit enough to do so.” Izuku turned to look back at the man who sat rather unbothered. He smiled as he motioned for Izuku to sit back where he was before.
Izuku let out a sigh, knowing that he should stay. He walked to sit back down where he was, falling back with a sigh as he said nothing more to that.
His therapist smiled. “Thank you, Mr Midoriya. Often than not, the first step to getting better is knowing that you need help and then accepting it.” He reminded the green haired hero. “Now… how are the boys?”
Izuku didn’t answer immediately. When last did he talk to the boys? When last did he see the boys?  The last vivid time he remembered his sons’ faces was at the funeral, everything after that felt like a blur. Were they already back at school? “They’re… fine.”
His therapist let out a hum as he noted down something in his notebook. “And how are you?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
His therapist looked at him through his lenses before letting out a sigh. He leaned forward. “Mr Midoriya, you entered the scene where your son had been brutally murdered.” He started off, getting to the cusp of it. “You have, unjusticely, been at the cusp of some media frenzy of them saying that you weren’t fast enough or good enough or still in your prime to have saved your son. You have been working like a dog, day and night and by the reports of your office hours, I doubt you even get more than three hours of sleep. You are out there breaking yourself in half, trying to atone for something that isn’t your fault and you are leaving your family behind. Your wife is currently at home with your children, trying to keep it all together while you are out there when you should be spending time with your family. Mr Midoriya, I’ll ask you one more time… how are you?”
The front door opened as Izuku entered his house. The first thing that caught his eye was the candle next to the photo of the smiling five year old boy who had hair too wild and free and a smile so bright and lovely. Inko had said that Shoyo was a direct copy and paste (minus a few of your genetics) of Izuku. Staring at him now was still painful and yet Izuku gave him a small smile.
He slipped off his shoes and entered the house. Just as he did so, he noticed that there wasn’t the sound of playing in the living room or the sound of boys giggling outside. It was mostly silent. It had been silent for a while now and Izuku wasn’t surprised.
Izuku hated the silence.
Walking out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice was Toshinori, headphones blasting in his ears as he kept one hand in his grey sweats as he manoeuvred out of the kitchen. At the sight of his father, his eyes widened as he jumped, dropping his glass of juice. Before Izuku could react, suddenly dark green tendrils wrapped around the glass.
Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing he didn’t activate One for All yet. Being carried just a few inches off the ground was Toshinori’s cup of juice with blackwhip coming from his knuckles. Toshinori’s eyes moved to his father. He carefully bent down to pick up his cup before slipping off his headphones, pausing the music. “Afternoon, dad.” He greeted. “You’re back early.” He let out unsure, knowing that normally when- if, his father came home, it would be late at night when he was far too asleep to notice.
Izuku nodded. “I am.” His eyes moved down to blackwhip that slowly retracted itself into Toshinori’s knuckles. He tilted his head confused, pointing towards Toshinori’s left hand. “Since when could you use blackwhip?”
Toshinori looked down at his hand before looking back up at his father. “Since a week ago. Nearly dropped a wine bottle but luckily I caught it just in time.”
“Wine?”
“I cooked dinner.”
“Since when did you cook dinner?”
“Since mom wasn’t able to cook dinner.”
“Since when was mom unable to cook dinner?”
“Depends on the day. Some days are harder for her than others.” He shrugged. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed at that, a pang of guilt seeping into his chest. Toshinori looked to the side for a moment before forcing a smile to his face as he headed towards the staircase. “I’ve got a paper to finish and I need to make sure Asahi is doing his homework-”
“Toshinori.” Izuku put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. Toshinori paused as he turned to look at his dad. Izuku was slow as he walked closer to Toshinori. He took Toshinori’s cup of juice, putting it on the side table. The teenager’s looked confused before his eyes widened as he was pulled into a hug against his will. He froze in his father’s embrace, eyes wide and his body stiff. “I’m sorry.” Izuku whispered. Slowly he felt his son ease into his hold, slumping against him. “You did good, but I’ve gotta tap you out now. You should rest.”
Toshinori didn’t say a word but he nodded his head, a shaky sigh leaving his throat as he buried his head in the crook of his father’s neck. His hands gripped onto Izuku’s back painfully hard but Izuku didn’t push him away.
After that Izuku went up to his and your room where Toshinori said you would be. Izuku entered the room, to find you sitting there with Koda. Koda had his head in your lap, fast asleep. You looked away from the show about a blue dog on the TV, and to your husband. Your eyes widened in surprise. You checked the time on your phone before looking back at him surprised. There were bags under your eyes and you looked drained. You all looked drained, besides Koda who seemed to be enjoying his nap with his little knitted blanket you made for him when he was a baby, over him.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you straightened up. “Izuku… you’re here.” You whispered to him.
“I am.” He affirmed. He looked down at his youngest son. The both of you had consciously pulled him out of kindergarten despite him only being there for a few short months. After Shoyo, the both of you had wordlessly expressed your fear of losing another little sprout. Izuku walked over to you, he picked up Koda effortlessly.
Your eyes widened as you weakly reached up to stop him. “It’s okay, I-”
Izuku shook his head, silently taking your youngest son to his own room. Izuku barely remembered the last time he held Koda like this. The little boy, although asleep like a log, moved to wrap his arms around Izuku’s neck comfortingly putting his head of green hair to rest on him. Izuku swallowed down a sob and fought a frown as he carefully laid Koda to bed, drawing the blinds and leaving him for an afternoon nap.
You were still seated where Izuku had left you when he came back. He closed the door behind him but stood there, keeping space between you and him. Neither of you said anything. This was the most time Izuku had spent in your presence in the past three months that wasn’t him asleep or just passing by.
“How was your day?” You let out quietly, scared of the usual answer he would give you. He would dismiss you without second thought. He didn’t answer, affirming that your question was once again given in vain.
“I…” You looked up at him. His eyes were down casted. “I saw the shrink.”
Your eyebrows twitched up in surprise that he was telling you something about his day that wasn’t just a simple ‘fine’. ��And… how did it go?” You asked softly.
He didn’t answer immediately again. You saw your husband’s head drop for a moment. His hands balled into fists and you saw he was trembling. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he seemed to be biting back a sob. You don’t know with what strength nor from where but you stood up and walked over to him. Right before you could even touch him, your husband crumbled on the floor.
“I’m sorry.” You heard weakly from him.
You went down on your knees joining him on the ground. “Izuku…”
“I failed you.” His voice cracked as he held his hands to his face, trembling in front of you. “I failed the boys, I failed Shoyo. If only I was there just two minutes earlier-”
“It’s not your fault.” You reminded him as you moved your hands onto him, touching him for the first time in months. “You couldn’t have known or have been any faster than you were. You didn’t fail me, or the boys or him.”
Izuku shook his head as he looked up at you with red eyes. “Y/N. I can’t… I…” He fought back a sob as he stopped for a second. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. And- and I’m so sorry I left you all alone.” You stilled at that. You looked away from him fighting your own tears as you tried your best to be the comforting good wife he needed you to be when you felt like anything but. “I’ve been a horrible husband. I haven’t been here for you.”
You scowled as you tried to fight the tears. “You haven’t.” You affirmed softly.
“I know you needed me.”
“I did.” You looked at him, with a mix of anger and disappointment but mostly sadness. You gasped as you let the tears fall. “And you weren’t here.”
He shook his head with a sad smile. “I wasn’t.” You didn’t look at him as you looked down at your lap. “But…” You felt one of his hands move you to look up at him. “I’m here now.”
There was a knock at the door. “Mom I-” Entering the room was Toshinori who paused. Lying there in bed, with his arms around you was Izuku. The both of you were dead asleep, bags under your eyes and faces puffy but you were both asleep. Together.
Toshinori eased. He gave a small smile as he decided he’ll let the both of you sleep.
-Glitch1d
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cozage · 2 months
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May i ask a headcanon list for Luffy, Sanji and Zoro reaction to their s/o being a cp0 agent?
A/N: I am just now noticing as I finish up this work that you asked for a headcanon LIST. Forgive me for the mix-up!
Characters: female reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro Cw: betrayal, angst with no happy ending  Total word count: 1.6k
Double Agent
Luffy
“It can’t be,” Luffy muttered from the doorway.  
Shit. You had been compromised. Luffy was supposed to be off in the jungle. How had he tracked you to this abandoned building?
“Luffy!” you hissed, stepping in front of the other agent. “What are you doing here?”
“I left that emergency steak with you,” he said, his eyes wide. You had promised him your lunch and forgotten to give it to him. Of course he followed the scent here. 
“We have to get rid of him,” the agent behind you said, reaching for his weapon. You didn’t even know his name, but you couldn’t let him kill the captain of the Stawhats. 
“Absolutely not!” you reached for your own weapon, glaring at him. “You know our orders.”
“If you’re position is compromised-”
“Then killing the captain isn’t going to help much!”
The other agent raised his brow. “Getting soft? They’re pirates. It’s reckless to let him live.”
You scoffed. “You’re the one being reckless. Leave him be. We can still watch from afar.”
“This is a joke, right?” Luffy’s shaky voice came from the doorway again, full of uncertainty. 
You steeled yourself and faced him, putting on a bored face. “It is no joke. I’m afraid I’ve just been sloppy in covering my tracks.”
“You can’t be CP-0.” His face slowly turned to rage. “You would never-”
“Apparently you’ve sparked the interest of some very important people.”
The man behind you clicked his tongue in disapproval. You were saying too much. But you needed Luffy to leave here. He had to leave alive. 
Luffy stared into your eyes, and you swore he was staring into your soul. “I refuse to believe this is the real you. I know you. I love you. This isn’t you.”
“You don’t know me at all, Monkey D. Luffy.” You put an extra taunt in his full name. “You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of.” You gave him a wicked grin, letting the worst parts of yourself out into the open for him to see. 
“Come back to the Sunny,” he begged, unphased by the wickedness on your face. “We can figure it out together.”
“I have no reason to return there. Besides, you would just make me a prisoner when I set foot on deck.”
Luffy’s brow furrowed. “I would never restrain you-”
“Leave, Luffy.” You tried your hardest to keep the desperation out of your voice. “Leave now, or don’t leave at all.”
“Permission to terminate, then?” The Agent took a step towards Luffy, and it took everything in you to remain where you stood. 
You pulled out your weapon and threw all of your hate into the stare you gave Luffy. “Leave.”
“This isn’t over until we talk-”
You fired a warning shot, missing his head by a centimeter. “Leave.”
“I’ll get you back. This isn’t over,” Luffy promised, and then he walked out the door. 
Sanji
“This is an interesting place for a picnic, my love!” Sanji’s kind voice rang out amongst the trees. “Where are you hiding?”
The other agent’s eyes widened. “You left a trail?” she hissed.
“Never,” you whispered back. “I-”
“There you are!” Sanji launched himself toward you, wrapping you in a hug. “And who is this fine young woman with you? Did you bring company?”
The agent’s hand moved to her gun, and you gave one quick shake, trying to prevent her from blowing your cover.
“Just a friend,” you said between gritted teeth. “We were just saying goodbye. Could you give us a moment, Sanji?”
“The lady can stay if she’d like!” Sanji quickly said. “I have plenty-”
“I would never sully myself with such company,” the woman snapped. She looked at you. “You’re being called back in.”
“No,” you shook your head. “No, that’s impossible.”
“Come on,” the woman said. “No more use for appearance. We’ll leave him alive for now.”
Sanji, somehow, kept up a smile. He had no idea what was occurring, but you could tell that he was nervous. 
“My love?” He asked, looking at you with a forced smile and worry in his eyes.
“I have to go, Sanji.” You shouldered your backpack with everything you had collected. 
“No,” he said softly. “You can stay. I don’t know who this woman is but-”
“This woman is your lover’s superior,” the woman said. “And she never loved you. She was just using you for intel.”
“No. Tell them, my love. Tell them what a mistake they have made.”
It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. He was a pirate. You were a government agent. It was supposed to be easier than this. You were used to betraying people, and yet this created a strange ache in your chest. 
“I work for CP-0,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was tasked to infiltrate your crew and obtain records. Watch you all from the inside.”
“Impossible-” Sanji said
But you had to keep going. You had to break him so he would never come looking for you. “I chose you because it was the easiest. You had access to everything. And when I needed to look for specific things, I added sleeping medicine to the tea you served everyone. It was too easy. 
“I don’t believe you.” Sanji had tears in his eyes now. “It wasn’t all fake.”
You sneered at him. “You were so desperate for love, you accepted the bare minimum of affection without a second thought.”
He slumped to his knees, his eyes getting a far-away look in them. Your heart cracked, but your face showed no emotion as you looked down at him. “I’m only letting you live now so you have to live with this failure. But I will come for you one day. And I will kill you.”
He gave a single nod of acknowledgement, as if he had expected this; as if he deserved it. 
He didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve him. But if you showed an ounce of weakness, you knew the agent next to you would kill him. So you turned and left, knowing that his empty stare would haunt your dreams forever. 
Zoro
“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Zoro shouted. “Who the hell is that guy?”
The agent next to you fired a bullet before you could react, and you cried out in warning. But the bullet only met steel. Zoro had sliced right through it. 
“I knew you were getting weak. No wonder they wanted to pull you from this mission,” the agent chuckled. He kept his gun aimed at Zoro, but was watching you carefully. 
No. No. How had Zoro found you? He was the last person who should be here right now. He always got lost. How on earth had he found you?
Zoro was still staring at you, waiting for an answer. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the man or the weapons he had. 
“Stand down,” you growled between clenched teeth. 
“I do not take orders from you,” the agent snarled back. 
Zoro was still watching. Hell, how could you play this to get him out alive? You couldn’t have him getting hurt. You had already said your goodbyes in letters to the crew. You had made up some reason to leave. But Zoro, of all people, had managed to find you. 
“I’m leaving the crew!” you shouted to him. 
A trace of hurt passed over Zoro’s face. “You’re taking some government recruitment position over us? You can’t be serious.”
“Not recruitment,” the agent next to you purred, and you froze. “Have you ever heard of CP-0, Roronoa Zoro? Of course you have. You were at Enies Lobby, weren’t you?”
You stiffened at his words. You could see Zoro trying to figure out the secret meaning the man was taunting home with. 
Just leave, you begged silently. Please leave. 
But the agent sent to retrieve you was not finished burning bridges for you. “Your “crewmate” here isn’t a new recruit. No, they’re a seasoned veteran of the organization.”
Zoro stilled. Only his fingers twitched, itching to reach for his blade as he watched you with predator-like senses. 
“Zoro,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what to say, but you had to say something to him.
“Go. Get out of my sight.” You could see him shaking. From rage, most likely. From betrayal. 
The agent next to you gave a humorous laugh. “Do you think we are going to let you live?”
“We are letting him live,” you said, too quiet for Zoro to hear. “That was the agreement.”
The agent gave you a wicked smile. “He brought this upon himself, following you out here.”
“Let him go,” you snarled softly. “Or you will not leave this island.”
You had been baited. You knew it the moment his eyes lit up. Proof that your allegiance was to the Strawhats over CP-0. Proof that you needed to be reprogrammed in some capacity. 
He waved a hand lazily at Zoro. “You may go. We have to go as well. We have some work to do.”
You gave Zoro one last look, trying to convey how sorry you were about everything. He should’ve just stayed on the ship, read the damn letter, and accepted that you had left the crew.  
Your eyes met Zoro’s just for a moment, and then you turned away and followed the agent down the path. And as much as you wanted to, you didn’t look back. 
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aphroditelovesu · 5 months
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Yandere Team Black Headcanons (Platonic)
''There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, and no war as bloody as a war between dragons.'' — Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was.
❝ 🐉 — lady l: I needed to get this out of my mind, so here it is. It's more focused on the Black Council, so only they appear, but if anyone wants, I can do it with the other allies of the Blacks. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistake! 🖤❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, unhealthy platonic relationships, messy writing.
❝🐉 pairing: yandere!team black x gender neutral!reader.
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After the death of King Viserys I Targaryen, the Seven Kingdoms was divided into two factions. The Greens, who supported the succession of Aegon II Targaryen, son of Queen Alicent Hightower and Viserys, and there were the Blacks, who supported the succession of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first woman to be chosen as heir to the Iron Throne and the legal heir of Viserys. There were these two sides to the war and you were a supporter of the Blacks, of Rhaenyra.
Your family had long ago sworn loyalty to Rhaenyra and you would not dishonor that oath. You would fight alongside the Blacks and follow the Queen to the death if necessary. You would protect her and defend her honor until your last breath. It was this oath that you swore and it was what brought you to meet her face-to-face, along with the other members of her family who supported her.
Rhaenyra received your support with great enthusiasm and affection, smiling at you and hugging you, saying how much it meant to know that you, and your family, stayed true to their oath. She hugged you tightly, and you melted into the Black Queen's tight embrace.
She was so kind, just like the stories said. You were proud to call her the Queen. Rhaenyra touched your cheeks warmly and introduced you to the rest of her supporters, her family. Rhaenyra quickly became attached to you, developing her obsession and becoming possessive and protective. She doesn't want anything to hurt you. She had already lost too much.
You were introduced to Daemon Targaryen first, Rhaenyra's husband and prince consort. He was a little skeptical of you at first, looking strangely like he was sizing you up and your intentions. Which in fact, he was doing. After deciding you weren't a threat, Daemon was more open and welcomed you.
He wasn't the kind of person you wanted to mess with. Always so cruel and using violence to resolve conflicts, Daemon is not easy to deal with. But you can deal with him in the right way, being his listener and eventually his friend. Someone he can truly trust. Very possessive and short-tempered, Daemon doesn't hesitate to claim you for himself and will burn alive anyone who says anything about it.
Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, was all the stories said. Stormy yet with a gentleness and grace you had never seen before. She was courteous and distant at first, as you would expect a princess to be. But as she got to know you, the more Rhaenys opened up and trusted you.
She is very protective of you, Rhaenys does not want you to fight, preferring you to become part of the council and act solely as a strategist. The war was very dangerous and she wasn't going to risk your life. Not when she already liked you so much and had already lost her two beloved children.
Corlys Velaryon became close to you quickly. You met him when he was still in bed, injured. Rhaenys was the one who introduced you to him and he quickly warmed up to you. He smiled in gratitude every time you helped him feed or get out of bed. His eyes seemed to always follow you, with affection shining in them.
He could see what his wife saw in you. Something new, something lasting. When he had doubts about whether or not he should join the Blacks, you convinced him and he found himself admiring you even more for your loyalty. Corlys knew he had to protect you. You were so pure for this world and the war that was to come. He couldn't let something bad happen to you.
Jacaerys Velaryon took a liking to you at first sight, warming up to you and becoming the linchpin of his mother and brothers' obsession with you. He saw a lot of himself in you for some reason and enjoyed your company immensely. Jace is always asking for your approval, trying to please you in any way.
He is quite protective and this only intensified after the deaths of people dear to him. Jacaerys enjoys reading to you and would love to teach you High Valyrian if you wish. When he becomes King, he would love to name you his Hand.
Lucerys Velaryon became especially close to you after you arrived in Dragonstone. Not just because you supported his family, but because you were you. So kind and so loyal, he was immediately attracted to you and started following you like a baby duck. Luke loves spending time with you, reading, or when you watch him train with swords. Just your presence is enough.
He is very possessive and clingy towards you, constantly wanting your attention and approval. Lucerys does his best to be with you, clinging to your arms, as if he were hiding behind you.
Joffrey Velaryon is the baby of the Velaryon family, so young and unaware of what is happening. He usually stays close to you, holding your hand and looking at you with curiosity and affection. It's common to see him following you through the hallways of Dragonstone.
Although young, Joffrey is very intelligent and is possessive of your attention, often fighting with his brothers for it. He wants you with him all the time, close and protecting him.
Baela Targaryen is fearless and a free spirit, much like her father. She approached you firmly and quickly, encouraged by her grandmother and father. She really liked you and you quickly became friends with you.
She is quite demanding when it comes to you, Baela has a tendency to get angry quickly but she never stays with you. She likes it and is very patient and calm, smiling charmingly and holding your hand affectionately. Quite possessive, she will often get into fights to defend you.
Rhaena Targaryen is more delicate and calm than her older sister, all gentle and sweet. She is more courteous and also less demanding, taking whatever she can get and inwardly happy when you approach her of your own free will.
She's more subtle in her obsession, watching you from the corners of her eyes and smiling sweetly when she thinks no one is looking. Rhaena takes every opportunity to be close to you. She loves dancing and would be honored if you wanted to dance with her.
The Blacks cared deeply about you. Not just the Targaryen and Velaryon family, but others as well. The Lords and knights also created their own obsession with you and they knew they must protect you at any cost. Especially when you were the pillar of that faction.
They will go against anyone who dares to hurt you. Ready to destroy and burn, the Targaryens have no qualms about getting rid of anyone who threatens your life. The Velaryon fleets are at your disposal at any time and always ready to protect you.
They would only become even more suffocating after Lucerys' death. They had already lost him, they couldn't lose you. There's no way you can leave Dragonstone alone. Always accompanied by one of them or of guards.
You have become important to them. Important to the Black Queen and her allies. You have become their obsession. They would rather raze King's Landing, and burn the Iron Throne than lose you.
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calisources · 7 months
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IN LOVE AND WAR, EVERYTHING GOES. a sentence meme based around the subject of allies, enemies, war and enemies to lovers and more of the same tropes we all love. change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit. these are all scrambled around.
“Friends ask you questions; enemies question you.”
“You can live safe and be protected by people just like you, or you can stand up and be a leader for what is right.”
“Where do we find allies?"
“War created bizarre allies, while peace itself could be divisive.”
“I promise you, nothing will happen to you.”
“I choose my allies carefully and my enemies more carefully still.”
“People fight wars over ideas.” 
“Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.”
“I was raised in hatred, Roma. I could never be your lover, only your killer.”
“We were enemies, no matter the truths. No matter that I loved him.”
“He’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.”
“She's not the type to swoon for pretty lies.”
“The feud keeps taking and hurting and killing and still I couldn't stop loving you even when I thought I hated you.”
“These violent delights have violent ends."
“Men without morals are dangerous beasts.”
“The spiteful, little stars.”
“Death is real. Death is inevitable. Death comes when you're not ready for it. Be ready.”
“I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You took things from me. My soul―my heart.”
“You’re supposed to keep your enemies close. Therefore, it stands to reason that your sworn enemy should be kept closest.”
“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me.”
“Can’t even get out of my grasp? Or is it because you secretly don’t want to?”
“Why are you confessing all of your crimes?”Are you trying to get hit?”
“You're a hero and I'm a monster. There's only one way that story ever ends.”
"Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind."
"How--how can you even say such things,on an evening you are meant to choose another as your bride?"
"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."
"I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”
“The road for hell for me is paved with everything I would do for you, and that list never ends.”
“You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you."
“You have no idea what I could give you."
“If you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.”
“I see you truly for everything you are and everything you will be and I claim you as mine.”
“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you."
“Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”
“A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.”
"We're on opposite sides, you know."
"You're the one claiming we're all villains. There's no black or white, only gray area. We can coexist somewhere in the middle, can't we?”
“A man with no enemies is a man with no character.”
“I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.”
“I like your savage brutality."
"That's a poetic observation, coming from such a savage creature.”
"And you are mine, Victor Nox. whether you agree is irrelevant.”
“Bitter people are not interested in what you say, but what you hide.”
“Enemies can't break your spirit, only friends can.”
“In order to know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”
“Such a pretty face, but so weak and emotional. Just a regular man, after all.”
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raes-writing-space · 2 months
Text
Childhood Friend!Reader x DogDay (Finding DogDay Hung Up)
Warnings: Mentions of gore and blood, abuse including manipulation, depression, death, cursing, DogDay does NOT get saved in the end, heavy bittersweet/angst warning, etc.
Viewer discretion is advised!
Summary/Notes: (Y/N) was one of the orphans at Playtime Co, reader is said to have been VERY smart and observant child, and found out about the Bigger Bodies Initiative at a very young age (around 8). This happened to affect their relationships with the other orphans, including an orphan name Samson "Sam" who was their best friend, who would later be turned into DogDay. Feeling guilt, they go back to the Playtime Co. after escaping "The Hour of Joy", and hoping to save those left, they find DogDay and imagine what life would have been like if things were different.
Word Count: Roughly 2,250 words? I use Obsidian as my writing doc.
Romantic or Platonic?: Could be read as platonic or romantic, but it may seem like it leans more towards romantic.
A/N: This is heavily based off an OC of mine and an AU I have for Poppy Playtime, but I really wanted to share some DogDay content since I've been scouring the tag for weeks now and need more content. If you'd like me to post my notes about the different AU's I have, let me know!
Since this is a writing from my OC, it originally has she/her and feminine descriptors/titles, however I did my best to change them to try and make it more gender neutral, if you happen to see anything I've missed please let me know!
(Y/N) was lead into a prison that seemed underneath the Playhouse, a place they didn't know about from their time at Playcare. They had assumed that was possibly where CatNap had to have been held, when he wasn't interacting with the children. They hated how isolating it already felt, despite the "childish" nature, nothing about a prison was childish. (Y/N) didn't even know what they were looking for at this point, just another way out - away from all these poor starving toys trying to eat them alive. That was when they saw the scene, it took them a moment to really process it all. DogDay, Sam, their first childhood friend they ever had. The friend that was picked for the Bigger Bodies Initiative when Harley Sawyer found out about (Y/N)'s knowledge about the project. That was a guilt they never could find themselves to forgive themselves for. They knew that truly, it was the adults that betrayed them both, but how could they simply still leave him here after all this time? DogDay was hung up by the arms, belts and straps tied to pieces of the cell. Even worse, his legs were missing, only a tightened belt around his waist was keeping his organs from falling out of his body. How long had he been like this? Had those toys been eating him alive as a last resort?
"Sammy?" (Y/N)'s voice called out, in the moment they sounded so small, just like a child again.
As if it was instinct at hearing the nickname, his head seemed to pick up, silent for a moment, as if processing if this was in fact real or not.
"Angel?" He questioned, voice box even sounding ragged.
Even the voice box has aged… (Y/N) knew that they were never really supposed to sound like themselves after the procedure, but things were so different now. Before (Y/N) could linger on it for too long, his voice brought them back to the harsh reality they were both in.
"There's nothing left to save… not here… A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl-" "Shh… Sam, shh… I know… I know… Let's not think about it for now…" (Y/N) moved closer to him, resting a gentle hand on his cheek for a moment, before a shaky hand goes to wrap around his torso, as another hand goes to undo the straps on one arm. "What-What are you- Angel, listen to me, please, you need to get out of this place, you need to live. You and Poppy can fix this. End this madness, the torment, please, just leave me." He started rambling quickly, especially as he could feel one arm become free. "I…" (Y/N)'s voice became shaky, as he immediately noticed the tears well in her eyes, "I know… I know I'll have to… just… Just let me have this moment… Please, I'm just tired and want to sit for a moment and talk to an old friend…"
There was a silence for a moment, a small grunt when they had done their best to keep him supported as they released the other straps, as the two of them slid down the wall of the cell for a moment. There was no way for him to be truly comfortable, but they tried for him anyway. The two sat side by side for a moment, before (Y/N) closed their eyes and leaned their head against his shoulder. DogDay must have been hung up for a long time, almost unaware that he could move his arms again. He seemed to then move his arm a little, before rotating his hand to be palm up. (Y/N), in their paranoid state since arriving, had noticed the small movements immediately, before they put their hand in his. Maybe it was the effects of the poppy gas finally getting the best of them, even after how hard they had been trying to fight it. Maybe they really were just tired, tired of running, of fighting for their life, of seeing their friends suffering, of all of it.
"CatNap will be coming for the both of us if he knew you released me… Angel, please… you have to go…" DogDay attempted again. "No… I'm sure he knows… And I'm sure he knows the power he already holds… Before the Hour of Joy… CatNap helped me speak with the Prototype. The Prototype was trying to plan something with me, and I was just… too far gone in my sadness to listen… The Prototype had even warned me about the event and how I should escape from it all…" (Y/N) trailed off, and DogDay seemed to turn to them, almost as if in shock that they had known this whole time, alongside the rest of the monstrous toys. "CatNap knows that I'm just trying to find answers, I don't know if Poppy is right, or if the Prototype is right, but I at least want to come to that decision on my own… So, CatNap knows… as you said, there's a million eyes watching… so, just let them watch, and listen… for now…" (Y/N) spoke again, as they rubbed their thumb against the palm of his hand, it was always much too big compared to theirs.
"We were best friends before you were chosen for the Bigger Bodies…" "I always knew there was something special about you…" DogDay tried to sound lighthearted, attempting to find the peace they were yearning for. "Theo… CatNap… knew the Prototype before his procedure too… He tried to help Theo escape, but then something happened, and the Prototype risked capture to save him… That's why he treats the Prototype like a God, for him, that is his savior." (Y/N) attempted to explain, hopefully giving him some more clarity, despite it not meaning much now in these final moments. "I like to think… before your procedure, maybe our friendship was on your mind… Maybe that's selfish of me, but as much as it hurt to see you become DogDay, when I heard how happy you were to see me… How you called me Angel and thought I was special… It gave me some peace of mind that you weren't angry with me, for not being able to say goodbye…" (Y/N) trailed off.
"You weren't there?" DogDay seemed to question, as if trying to recollect a memory that felt so distant to him that it almost never existed in the first place. "No… the fucker, Harley Sawyer, the doctor who created the Bigger Bodies Initiative, told me I would be spending the day with him… Purposely made me anxious, and kept me past curfew so I wouldn't get to say goodbye or see you go… Before he told me that you were chosen for testing, but that of course, the orphans at Playcare would be excited to hear you were being adopted… He wanted to break me down, so that I wouldn't somehow speak about the initiative, and… it worked…" (Y/N) answered. "He saw in my files that I once told a counselor that DogDay was my favorite toy and character, because so many people thought I was a sunny leader, like him…" Tears started to well up again, as they could hear him let out a deep disappointing sigh.
"And then they conditioned me to cheer up any kid who looked sad, knowing that out of all the kids, you would be the worst." DogDay pieced together, as (Y/N) simply nodded. "I was used as your reminder… Those sick… Why did you not push me away? You could have-" "No… I never could do that… Yes, you were a reminder of one of the worst days of my life… but Sam you gave me so many days that I consider the best days of my life… I would never trade those days in for anything…" (Y/N) looked at him, tears streaming down their face, as his gentle and slow hand attempted to wipe the tears away. "I only wish I could have given you more days like that… God, after I left… I started to imagine this… alternate world where everything was different… That we really were just kids at an orphanage who would be able to grow together, and maybe get adopted by kind loving families, and hope that we'd find and see each other again, and that… somehow we did, we always did…" "I imagine what life would have been like for us… If we would have told each other about our first crushes, or would get too embarrassed because maybe the truth was that we had crushes on each other… A typical stupid teenaged life, where we'd make mistakes, and learn, and be awkward, and fall in love or out of love, and things would just be easy…" "That we could just be kids or teens or adults just laying in a patch of grass and enjoying the real life sun against our skin… and that even despite all our real world problems, we'd know that it'll all be okay in the end because we had each other…" (Y/N) couldn't help but ramble on about this idealistic dream they'd had for so long, a motivating factor to keep going just one more day… Caught in a world that they knew would never exist, but made them feel genuine happiness as if it did.
"That's sounds like a wonderful world to be in…" DogDay couldn't help but finding himself imagining it, a sweeter dream than the nightmare he's lived in for so long. "I've lost myself in that reality far more than I'd like to admit… I've gone down so many routes, but refused to think about anything that wasn't a happy ending of some kind." "What was the happy ending you imagined the most?" DogDay questioned them genuinely, his body slumping a bit more, finally finding some semblance of peace. "We'd grow old together… It didn't matter how, if we were married, or had kids of our own, or were just best friends until the very end… But I imagined us having a picnic on top of this, gorgeous hill… That our old bones would have taken a while to climb, but we'd leave early, to watch the sun rise… And talk about life until we watched the sun set…" "I would thank you for… helping me understand what any semblance of love would feel like despite no adult ever showing us or teaching us how to love someone… I would thank you for being the closest thing I ever had to a family, for always being there for me just when I needed it… just like right now… I would make sure you knew just how much you meant to me, what you meant to my life, and in the end… all I would want is to make sure that I made you feel just as loved and appreciated as you've made me feel…" "You have. You always have." DogDay is quick to respond, never wanting them to doubt once for a second that he didn't appreciate his time with her too.
(Y/N) then started to shuffle themselves up, tears never ceasing as they knew this would be goodbye, there wouldn't be a way to save him, and there wouldn't be an easy way to bring him along, not when things could be more difficult from here… They knew they needed to leave him with something to dream about, on the happiest note they could really give him, and hope that he would forgive her for having to leave him once again. "Then I would kiss your forehead…" (Y/N) trailed off, getting on their knees and leaning forward to give a long and lingering kiss on his forehead, just as they had said, "And a big hug, that I wouldn't ever want to let go from, but knew I'd have to…" arms wrapped around his bloodied "fur" that had become his body, as they felt his arms wrap around them in return, also not wanting to let go, knowing this would be the last time he ever saw his Angel again. "And I'd tell you to close your eyes…" DogDay listened, closing his eyes as best as he could, knowing there would only be hungry monsters awaiting him once they left. "And let the sun feel warm on your skin…" He started to imagine it, so deeply and vividly that he could almost convince himself that he did feel a warmth… and maybe he did in some way… "And finally, thank you for spending your life with me… I wouldn't say goodbye, I couldn't… Because I know that one day, maybe in a different life, or an afterlife, that we'd meet again, like we always do… So instead I would just say… I love you, good night, and sweet dreams, I'll see you later Sammy."
"I'll see you later, my Angel… Thank you… I love you too…" DogDay trailed off, sighing as he let himself get lost in his imagination and not in the sound of their footsteps retreating from him.
(Y/N) suddenly found another pathway, they assume CatNap must have opened it for them at some point. They attempted to wipe their tears and breathe deeply, despite the circumstances, as they let themselves get lost in the fantasy again themself, ignoring the quieted groans of what they assumed must be the final outcome of DogDay's fate. They hated having to leave, they hated knowing as much as they did, but as much as they could linger on the negative, and let it drown them again…
Instead, they decided to take a note from DogDay, the symbol of optimism for his friends, and chose to only think about the good, even if they're just distant memories.
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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Eddie,
Dear Eddie,
Eddie fucking Munson,
Yeah. Hello. It's me. Steve Harrington.
Jesus. This is so weird.
Max just got out of the hospital today. It's surreal to think that it's been six months since Spring Break and she's only getting out today. The doctors said there's gonna be a long road ahead of her but that's okay, right? What's important is that there's a road ahead of her.
Anyway, the day Max got Vekna-ed Vecna-ed (Dustin just corrected my spelling. I think Vekna sounds better.), she wrote us letters. Just in case she… bites the dust. When she woke up, she told us we could read it if we wanted. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I burned it the moment she woke up. She told me (Just me specifically) that I should try it. When I asked who I should write to, she smiled and started humming a Metallica song. Which is fucking wild that I even knew that she was humming Disposable Heroes.
Robin told me I wasn’t good at dealing with my grief. That instead of letting the wound heal, I just let it scab and hurt. Which— I hate the word grief. Because I hate grief, you know?
You don’t know this, but Barbara Holland died in my backyard and Nancy… Nancy still mourns her to this day. I don’t think she’ll ever stop mourning her. A few months back, we talked. Dude, I know what you’re going to say and No, we are not getting back together. I let her smash bottles of beer in my empty pool. We cried and screamed until we were both exhausted. I asked her this question that’s been running through my mind for months now.
What the hell is grief?
Nancy smiled at me. She told me that she had a hard time trying to learn what grief is, that at first she thought it was anger and disappointment and hatred. But she told me (after a few minutes because Nancy also loves dramatic pauses. I think you guys have that in common), that it’s actually just love. Just love. With no place else to go.
And you know what? Fuck that. She’s the smartest person I know but she was wrong. Fuck that.
This grief I have for you, it can’t be love right? How could I love someone I barely even knew? It’s nothing but disappointment that I couldn’t have done more. It’s nothing but pure fucking rage that you didn’t fucking listen to me when I told you to run. It’s nothing but hatred from the fact that you did this when you could’ve lived.
I don’t care if you felt like a coward. You should’ve been a coward because at least you would still be alive. I wouldn’t be writing this letter if you were alive.
I hate you. I goddamn fucking hate you for every decision you’ve made that night.
But Eddie…
Eddie, I need you to get up and tell me what to do. I am begging you to get up and tell me what to do. I don’t care how you do it, just do it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do without you. Which is fucking ridiculous, because I didn’t know you. But I need you here. Right now.
We’re done with the Upside Down forever. We’re done with it. Everyone’s moving on, moving forward. And I… I still sleep with your vest. How could I be sad over something I never even had in the first place?
Robin’s giving me weird looks. She’s telling me that I could talk to her about anything. I know. I know I can. But I wanted you to be the first to know. Apparently, I am gay. Maybe half gay because I like both. Fucking Eddie Munson, you’re dead and you’re still giving me a sexuality crisis.
I think… I think I am mourning the fact that we could’ve been friends, and if I am being delusional, maybe even more. Dustin won’t stop talking about you these days. I think it’s his way of keeping you alive. If I’m being honest, I hate it. Because I am falling in love with a memory.
I… I miss you. I wish there was a way I could send this to wherever you are, so you could write back and tell me that it’s going to be okay. That someday I would forgive myself for everything I did and did not do, that someday it wouldn’t hurt this much anymore.
Max was right. I’ll write more in the future.
I wish you were here.
Sincerely,
Yours,
Fuck you,
Steve Harrington.
06/13/86
Steve laughs as he carefully closes the old letter— stained with tears and age, some crumpling and tearing on the edges— and slips it back to the envelope. The envelope is yellow at the edges, showing its true age.
“God, I was so mad.” Steve says, his hand finding the cold headstone. His fingers tracing the name inscribed on the marble. After a few years, after the town of Hawkins eventually forgot everything, the Party got Eddie a headstone in the cemetery. It’s a funeral ten years too late, but it brought closure to everyone that needed it. Wayne, included.
“You want me to read my newest letter?” Steve asks the empty space. Steve takes the newer envelope from the picnic basket he packed, opening it carefully and taking a deep breath.
“Dearest Eddie,” Steve smiles at the stone. He thinks of Eddie, the only image he always conjures when he misses him. He thinks of Eddie, hair wet and face grimy from having fought bats for a person he barely knew. He thinks back to that Eddie, big brown eyes and teasing smile.
He looks down at the letter and continues reading, “I am writing this letter before I go visit you. Spring has been good to us. I’ve been trying to plant more and I think it’s going great. Dustin’s been bugging me to get some exercise. Can you believe that? He said it’ll be good for my old bones. Or some shit like that. He’s still a disrespectful little shit. I do find joy over the fact that Edward is a jock. Dustin Henderson? Has a jock kid? It’s the best thing in my life. El loves joking about it. We’re just thankful the kid doesn't have powers.”
“The Byers-Wheelers are doing pretty good too. Will sent us this really funny picture of Mike in a tutu as the twins practice beside him. It feels like only yesterday Will came out to Robin and me. You remember that right? I think I wrote it in one of my letters. Will still tells me that you and him could’ve been really good friends, and I believe him.”
“The Sinclairs are planning to travel across the country this Summer. We did have a few laughs when the “Winnebago” dream came up. Elena’s going through a rebellious teenage phase, and I just think it’s funny that she stole their car to drive to me. She really is her mother’s daughter.”
“As for Argyle and Jon, last I heard they were in Montana. They’ll come back down for the holidays, but they live their lives on the down low. Aside from Jon’s very active instagram account, they do write through emails. Robin and Nance are in Europe right now. They wanted me to come, but you know I can’t leave Arwen. She could be forty and married, and I’d still stay by her side. She has this concert coming up, and I want to stay and make sure it goes well.”
“I still think it’s funny that I adopted her at a random adoption office, because it still feels like she chose me rather than I chose her. Sometimes, I still let myself be delusional. If I squint hard enough, I could see it. With the way she plays the guitar, or the way she talks nerdy with her uncles. It’s like you were right there when she was growing up, right there beside me, helping raise her. Now that Arwen’s older, she understands it now. Why I never got married.”
“It’s been 36 years since you left. It doesn’t feel that long ago. I know you know this already, but sometimes I still reach out for your vest at night. It doesn’t smell like you anymore, not at all. I still remember it though. Like cigarettes and weed and the damn forest. Sometimes I’ll get a random whiff of something similar in public, something remotely close, and I’ll smile. Because I just know that’s you, being a creep and checking in on us.”
“In the hundreds of letters I’ve written in the last few years, I don’t think I’ve ever said it.”
Steve chokes as he reads the next few lines, “I think I’ll be okay, Eddie. I am sorry it took me this long to say it, but I hope you’re resting well now. I think we’ll meet again in a few more years, maybe another 20? What’s another 20, right? I can wait. When we meet again, we can spend an eternity together if you’ll have me. We’ll do everything we want to do. Just… wait for me, okay, Eds?”
“I’ll be back soon. Love always, Steve.” Steve slowly closes the letter, slipping it back to the envelope.
Steve sits in silence. Just listening to the birds chirp, just basking in the sunlight.
“Dad!” Steve turns to see Arwen climbing the hills, waving her hands as she jogs over to him.
“Hi, peanut.” He greets her when she’s finally close enough.
“Hi. I am sorry to interrupt.” She looks at the headstone with pain before turning to him, “Are you almost done? We have to be back to Indianapolis by four.”
“Yeah, I think I am done. I can come back some other time.”
Arwen helps him up, his knees creaking with age, “Give us a few more minutes, hm? I’ll follow you.”
Arwen nods, smiling before turning to the grave, patting it gently like it’s an actual person, “I promise to visit some other time, Eddie. I’ll play you this new song I’m writing.” She kisses Steve’s cheeks before running back to the car.
“I wish I could stay longer. But she’s got that concert thing. There won’t be an actual concert if she’s not there.” Steve chuckles.
“See you later, Eds.” Steve lifts kisses his fingertips before pressing it on the headstone.
The trees shake with a gust of wind. He smiles, letting his eyes flutter shut as he feels the wind against his skin.
Steve opens his eyes, waving at the headstone one last time.
Edward Joseph Munson
1965 - 1986
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
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the-words-we-sung · 2 months
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Thoughts and pictures - S3E1
So after digesting my first watch a little bit, I'm starting my rewatch of this season and I'll share a few thoughts and reactions (and screenshots) because I can't keep it all to myself 😱
I was happy that we dived directly into the (sort of) trial and confrontation between Wilhelm, Simon and August. I do wonder how much time passed between the speech and this scene though. It sets the tone for the entire season for Wilhelm: he's gonna be alone, with no support whatsoever from his parents. He enters the room alone, his parents arrive after him and his mother doesn't even look at him... Simon arrives with his mother and August with his stepdad. But Wilhelm has to deal with the situation alone (aka how to get incredibly mad at Kristina barely 5min into the season 😤)
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Simon looks so pretty and so sad. (And how did Omar manage to look even younger this season??) He wants to be done with this whole thing. Also I checked but 1.2 millions kronor is not as much as I thought it would be (it's apparently around 107 000€, which is not bad, but I was expecting more)
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I see what you did there Simon 😏 (Can someone gif this scene and put it in parallel with Wilhelm seeing Simon's room for the first time and saying "cozy" in season 1? :p)
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The boys coming back to the meeting: very smooth. Nobody knows what you were doing. Nop. Not at all. (We can see Linda kinda smirking when Simon sits back whereas Kristina looks like she just ate a very sour lemon). Wilhelm arranging his hair and Simon smiling at him: they might be in the middle of an important meeting and at the Palace but they're still 2 teenage boys in love (and I love them for that 💜)
Rickard looked and sounded like such an idiot in the previous seasons that I didn't expect him to actually be competent! But I guess we were mostly seeing him through August's eyes... I know Rickard said he was the best lawyer in the country but I have to admit that I thought he was just bragging ^^' Also: August is such an asshole. Did he really need to rile up Wilhelm like that? He's got quite the confidence to attack him and tell him how he just fuck things up on his own, in front of everyone like that, including the queen. Who, again, is not defending her son!! She tells them to shut up but she says nothing to August for talking like that to her son 😠
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(They look like they've been called to the principal office). Kristina doesn't look at them immediately, she looks at Erik's picture on her desk first. Then she looks at August. And then finally at Wilhelm. She is so awful to him this season... Right from the start. And then she breaks down crying for Erik.
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While Wilhelm holds her. I wasn't expecting to see her grieve so much this season. We didn't see that at all in season 2. Is it because she repressed all of her emotions too much? I hate that she breaks down like that just after Wilhelm publicly coming out. How can she not be there for him. I get that it must be hard to lose a son, but she still has a very alive one, who needs her.
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Kristina is not getting redeemed in this season but Linda kinda is! I was super happy to see her get in mama bear's mode at the trial ^^ It was about time!! But here: I'm sorry Linda but it's not your son's role to keep you updated about what's going on in your house! You're the mother! Stop putting everything on this kid's shoulders!! Maybe he never tells you but do you ever ask??
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Simon being truly angry at Sara is so good. I am so happy so he's able to feel that way and to not feel like he has to repress it, to forgive her, to help her. She did something truly bad and he's allowed to be mad. Also look at his angry lil' face 💜
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In things that made me laugh: Wilhelm's reaction and face to learning that Simon is grounded all semester xD He was talking all smoothly/flirty and then his tone changes so dramatically when he realizes he won't be able to get his boyfriend in his bed very soon! Horny boy is horny (and frustrated :p)
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This faaaaaace ☹
I'm happy to see that Simon still has Ayub and Rosh here to support him. I wish they would have told him that replying to comments online was a bad idea though. You know the saying kids: don't feed the trolls!!
Wilhelm looks like such a normal teenager when he gets back to his room. First time we see him so carefree. It breaks my heart to know that on the other side Simon is so unwell already.
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Wilhelm waking up happy and smiling. And being just a teenager (for the first time in a very long time): thinking about his boyfriend, redrawing the heart on his hand. It's such teenager things!! My boy just wants to have a normal life... (And then he's immediately reminded that he's actually not just a regular teenager with Farima's text).
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Simon's worried face when he asks about Wilhelm's initiation. You can see he's truly horrified at the idea that he might have gone through what's been described in the article.
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And then it starts: the piling up of everything on Wilhelm's shoulders. First his mother looking really unwell and breaking down (even though she hasn't been said to be officially ill yet), and now the negative impact of his speech on the school... Which Vincent takes great pleasure in reminding him about.
This first episode is really good at setting things in motion. We see already the beginning of what's gonna go down during this season: Simon not feeling well, dealing with online hatred, struggling with his new place next to Wilhelm in the spotlight. And Wilhelm trying to finally live a carefree life at school with his boyfriend now that he's officially out but slowly getting crushed under the pressure of his role as Crown Prince and the increasingly obvious lack of support from his parents.
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scientia-rex · 9 months
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Read some more of Toxic Parents tonight and wow!!!! the amount of anger I have!!! and the incredible unwillingness I have to actually remember my childhood and feel associated feelings!!!!! Like, there are events I keep telling over like talismans, because these are the events that prove I'm not crazy. These are things that happened that should never have happened. The time Dad kicked the door in is the biggest one. The time I spent twelve straight hours cowering in the far back of our station wagon with my fingers jammed in my ears so I wouldn't hear my father screaming at my mother and my mother sobbing as we drove to a different state. The time I told my mother I had gotten accepted to graduate school and her first words were, "How are you going to pay for it?" instead of "Congratulations" or "I'm proud of you."
But these aren't all of it. They're so far from all of it. One memory I have is not of the presence of abuse, but the sudden, bewildering absence of it: my sister drove me to the nearest town with a mall, an hour and a half away. We were stopping to pick up snacks for the drive back, I think at a Safeway. I picked up a box of Golden Grahams cereal and nervously asked my sister if I could have it. She said, "Of course you can, you know what you want." In the limbus of a childhood spent being told I was picking the wrong soda for myself when I gave my order at fast food restaurants, suddenly being told I could have what I wanted T-boned me emotionally. It was like running into a wall I hadn't known was there. What? I can just want things? I can just get things and have them because I want them? I don't have to justify it, or lie, or hide what I want? No one is going to tell me I'm stupid for wanting something or that I'll regret it?
Just an incessant drip-drip-drip of emotional abuse, sometimes punctuated by a flash flood. "If I leave your mother, how do you think you're going to eat? You're going to end up on the street."
And now, reading the section on how children end up feeling about the passive parents who enable abuse, I just think, oh, there's me! There's me. I hated her and pitied her and loved her and wanted more for her. I didn't have the adult emotional capacity to understand how much of her life she was complicit in, but damningly, I did vaguely, tangentially understand that she was constantly making excuses for Dad--coming to my bedroom to sit on my bed and tell me, while crying, that he was sorry, while he never apologized. Making it my job to comfort her. I said to her once that I remember, "If he was really sorry, he'd stop doing this," and she just looked at me with something that looked like sorrow but I could tell was rage--she was angry at me for not forgiving him and letting us snap right back into the "good" phase between angry outbursts, where we could, for however long it lasted, pretend to be a normal family.
And how she always resented me. She resented that I was separate from her, she resented that I could do and see and understand things she couldn't, she was angry when I went into Psychology, even angrier when I went into medicine. She's been throttling down her anger at Dad for as long as I've been alive, pretending to be malleable, having vague health complaints and maladies mixed in among the real ones, forever retiring to her bed with a washcloth over her eyes instead of interacting with me.
And now that I'm an adult, and not just an adult but a middle-aged doctor, why don't I call? Why do I insist on bringing up the past? Why do I expect Dad to apologize? I'm hurting his feelings, after all.
The past. Sure. When I graduated from medical school, he named the worst doctor we ever met and said, "He went to medical school, too. Don't get a big head."
And when we were talking, once, not long ago, maybe two years or so, about how he used to stand there and yell at us--I can't remember any of the words anymore, just the way he looked, the tone of his voice, the experience like being buffeted by a strong wind--he said, "At least your sister fought back. You just stood there and took it."
I can't imagine a clearer illustration that he doesn't actually regret his behavior. He doesn't regret his actions. He still feels justified. We were disappointments, we were failures, we weren't him, we weren't what he wanted for us, and more than that, we were convenient targets for his rage. You can do almost anything to your children and get away with it. And he didn't hit us, so it was okay, and the fact that we were hurt by the actions he took with the intent to hurt us means that we were weak. And it's okay to hurt the weak.
Christ! This is the man who, in a fit of sullen self-pity, when I gave him a mug that said "World's #1 Dad" for Father's Day when I was probably eight or nine, talked about how we both know that's not true. As if a child is your therapist. As if it were my responsibility to reassure him.
My mother has read Toxic Parents. My mother has read Why Does He Do That? She has a bachelor's and most of a master's in psychology. She has an IQ of 150. She is a bad mother. It feels like the worst judgment you can make, a bad mother. It feels worse than calling someone a bad father. Because we expect less from fathers. But a bad mother is unnatural.
But lots and lots and lots of mothers are bad at being mothers. And I love mine and I hate her, and I'm angry and I'll always be angry, and I'll die angry, and I have to try to carve what happiness I can from a world I entered into under false pretenses. I was always told I was wanted. I knew I wasn't. I may have been intentional, but I wasn't wanted.
My mother's mother just died last week. I didn't know her. She chose not to know us. I hadn't seen her since I was twenty-two and graduated from college. My mother is struggling with her relationship with her mother. She often tells me her mother was a narcissist. I want to ask her what she thinks she is. She's not a narcissist, but she's an enabler, she's a doormat, she's a classic case of codependency, and I don't think she sees it that way. I always got the sense she was just waiting for us to grow up and go away so she and Dad could go back to being happily miserable alone together.
I asked her, this last year, if she'd read Why Does He Do That? and she said she had, and she asked me carefully why I was thinking about it, waiting for me to confess to her that my husband of ten years was abusive. She's been gunning for this relationship since the beginning--I'd been with him for maybe a year when she mailed me a copy of He's Just Not That Into You (or maybe it was the sequel, It's Called a Breakup Because it's Broken) along with an article on how to date as a single older woman. I was 23. She was flabbergasted when I said I thought Dad was abusive. Denied it immediately. I listed examples and she didn't even say words, just made simultaneously pained and exasperated noises.
She wants me to be single and a career failure and pathetic so she can feel good about herself in comparison. Dad thinks he wants me to be like him, but if I actually behaved like he does, I think he finally would belt me.
I had to hide everything good in me from them so they wouldn't deliberately ruin it. I couldn't tell them about my writing. The first time I finished writing a novel I told Mom and she didn't even acknowledge it, just told me to do the dishes. I was sixteen. I can't tell them what I love about my husband because it would be like speaking to them in a foreign language. They think it's a performance, like their performance, and they're always waiting for me to slip up and reveal the misery they're sure is lurking just underneath.
I've done well. They don't own me. I wish I had real parents, but I'm going to try not to shop for oranges at the hardware store anymore.
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blingblong55 · 8 months
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Coney Island- Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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Based on a request:
Helloo, it's my first ask here but i saw something on tiktok about having a specific type of a guy that's; closed off, stoic and stuff but he has a soft spot for a specific person and reader thinking its them but no. I just need angst😭 honestly. That's all thank you!!
F!Reader, death of character(s), angst, platonic!relationship, no happy ending --
Months before your death, that is when he broke your heart. He was so cold and rude to most people on base but there was one person who could touch Simon and talk past Ghost. The men of the task force were on his best side, but she was on the special side of his life. You always thought it was you, the one who could be his entire life only to find out you weren't even on the list.
He never spoke much of his life to you, you only heard bits from the other men but as any fool does you believed it was for him and you to have some sort of good place in this Earth. For months he gave you flickers of hope and you sure believed they were real. Each time you thought you were passing those high walls of his, there seemed to be a new wall you never heard of. A labyrinth with no way out and the way in has been closed off by spikes. His cruel words of that day were such spikes.
"Lieutenant-" you paused as you had seen him and the girl sitting on the bench, how he was so open to her. All his emotions were out for her to see and hear. He painted the sky with his hurt and past but it was for her eyes only, never to be yours. All the questions you asked, only to be spoken to her, never to you. You'd jump in front of a bullet, grenade or anything to protect his past and mind and he'd discard it. His insecurities, fears and all those years of trauma, laid for her and her only.
It was clear then that it was a team of two, him and her. You began to question it all, the nights he asked about your life, telling you...no, pleading you to tell him, that it was the only way for him to open up to you. The nights you cried to him, all your weapons laid for him to point them and shoot you in the back. Losing your mind over minor mistakes and still he held her close, never you.
If I pushed you to the edge But you were too polite to leave me?
The day he lost you, what a nightmare was that day. The smoke in the streets, the passing bullets, one for your chest and the invisible one for his heart. Despite the hurt he brought upon you, you never left. The reason even to this day makes his head ponder. What is he now? Why is he alive and not you? The blood that leaked from your body, the way his hands were painted with crimson, how he lost you and gained a new shade to paint the skies for her.
Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?
Every time he could, there he was. Talking about his sorrows to you now underground. The flowers that he replaced every time he was there, always fresh for the garden he forgot to make while you were alive. The first question he would ask you in the afterlife or in the next life is, "Can you forgive me?" and would you? Can you be so delicate with his dying heart?
Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?
Back at the place where he knew he lost you, you were alive then but that morning he lost his friend. "R/N, listen to me, it's not that I don't trust you-" you shake your head and chuckle. "No? Then what is it, lieutenant? Hate? shame? I told you about all of me and now here you are. I am me, I can't be someone else, all of me has been shown to you! And you can't trust me? This is rubbish, sir! I can't hide anything from you, here I am...what more can't you see!" That is all you wanted, just a little piece of him because he took all of you.
Coney Island, the place where he saw your first death.
And when I got into the accident The sight that flashed before me was your face But when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name
Eighteen months after your death, that's when he got into the worst gunfight of his career. Everyone was injured that time, Soap with a bullet in his leg, Gaz with a severe concussion, Price laid on the floor as blood dripped down from his shoulder and there he was, alone and behind a wall, tears ran down his face. The first time he was scared in a long time was that night. Bullet on his arm, cut by his torso and the image he had of you by his chest dripped with his blood.
The speech he gave at your funeral, how in his many years of service he had never been so afraid to speak. The room filled with friends and family, all looked at him. He felt as if they all knew the pain he caused your heart, what if they did? GODDAMNIT WHY NOW!
"The funniest person I had by my side was her, stupid jokes I learned from her now said to others." The speech went on for 10 minutes because he had more to say than the five sentences to say. And in each sentence, none of them had your name. He was afraid to even say it for he had no right to ever say your name not after he was the one with the knife on Coney Island.
But I think that I forgot to say your name Over and over
As he felt his life near the end, the last thing he saw was your face, fingers caressing the photograph.
"R/N," was his last breath.
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stainedstardom · 1 year
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Can you do a chad and reader imagine, where reader and chad are best friends since middle school, and lately have gotten even closer since they both developed feeling for eachother, but reader walks in on chad and Tara kissing at the party and they get into it and chad and Tara say things they don’t mean to the reader and then reader gets attacked really bad and when she wakes up in the hospital she doesn’t think she can forgive them?
yes omg the angst and pain and sadness
I CARED TOO MUCH
chad meeks martin x fem!reader (not dating but she is in love with him)
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falling in love with your best friend is the worse thing you could ever do to yourself. you knew they wouldn't love you the same way, wouldn't care for you the same way, wouldn't look at you the same way and yet you fell.
you and chad had been best friends since 5th grade, over time you got closer and closer. after everything happened during your senior year in woodsboro, chad decided that he wanted you to never be alone, he wanted you to be safe and sound and the only way he could do that was by being as close to you as he could be.
so he came to new york with you, against his own judgement, he began to fall for you the way you fell for him but something in him told him it wouldn't end well. told him you didn't feel the same way and so he did what he does best.
he distanced himself, he made himself scarce and practically non-existent in your life. it hurt you more then you thought it would but you let it happen. you let him fade no matter how much you hated it and no matter how much it hurt.
you stuck with him and the group. which brings you to here, you sat in the living room of sams apartment. tara and chad were away and you knew what was happening but you didn't want to believe it. you wanted to make it fake
"FUCK Y/N, GO GET CHAD AND TARA" sam yelled as quinns dead body got thrown and you screamed. you ran to the room and opened the door to see chad and tara
"fuck y/n go away" chad yelled as he made eye contact with you. you were frozen
"god y/n youre so fucking weird, theres a reason we don't talk to you" tara told you and you nodded. you felt your chest tighten and almost forgot what was happening outside
"Y/N GO, I DON'T WANT YOU HERE" he yelled and you turned to see ghostface down the hallway. they stared at you in almost a sad way, they had heard everything and even they felt bad.
"fuck run" you told them but they didn't listen, they didn't care, not until they saw you get stabbed and they ran. they didn't even look back, chad did but he didn't stop. you had blood flowing out of your arm and your stomach.
you passed out and the next morning you woke up in the hospital , the light shined on your face and you groaned making mindy look over at you
"y/n youre awake" she said
"im alive?" you asked and she laughed
"youre alive" she told you as she hugged you and you hugged her back. in the corner of the room, there was chad and tara. they stared at you and you scoffed as you looked away from them
"y/n" chad began and you turned to him
"get out" you exclaimed
"what?" he asked
"get the fuck out" you said and tara sighed as she walked out with Mindy. chad sighed
"im sorry" he said and you laughed even though it hurt you, the stitches seemed to stretch but not burst and you were grateful for that.
"ya know, i never thought you could be such an asshole, actually no I knew you could be one but not to me. you've never been mean to me and I guess that's what made me love you" you told him
"love me?" he asked
"ive been in love with you for years and you never noticed, at some point i thought you loved me too but i realized that i just cared too much and you didn't care at all" you stated
"no no i do care" he tried
"chad come on, dont lie we both know you don't. i mean last night you and tara both told me that there's a reason you don't talk to me and you don't want me there. i think you should leave because right now, I cant even look at you" you told him
"y/n please" he begged
"youre not the guy i fell in love with and you're not the guy I thought I knew" you said and that took his breath away. he got up as he walked out of the room and looked to see mindy , sam, tara and ethan staring at him.
they had all heard and usually they would be proud of you for telling him your feelings but now they just felt sad for you and wanted to hug you.
you couldnt forgive them and you didnt know if you ever would
A/N; the angst broke me
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javarium · 1 year
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Never, Ever | Joel Miller.
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a/n: — I’m not the happiest with how this turned out, tbh. But in honor of the start of the show, this’ll be the first thing I post on my blog haha :D Also, fuck TLOU2. It never happened. And if they go that route with the show, I’m gonna be pissed. Like, you can do anything with Joel, but you can’t fucking do that to him. I’ll riot. Who’s with me??
****
Joel Miller was aware that his past actions would always have consequences — would always have a way of coming back around and biting him in the ass at some point in his life.
But God, it should’ve been him.
“She’s looking better, Joel,” Tommy says, sitting down next to the older man. “Not much, but better.”
Tommy waits for a reply for several moments, but gets none, to which he takes as a cue to leave. He knows right now, Joel needs silence, no company. If he wanted company, it’d either be with Ellie or with you. But he’s choosing neither, and it means he doesn’t need to be anywhere near Joel’s impending breakdown.
Joel feels a single pat on his shoulder, followed by a small squeeze. He doesn’t look at Tommy as he leaves. He can’t. He can’t look anywhere except the floor, because if he looks at anything else, he’ll be faced with reality. The same reality in which he almost lost you. The same reality in which Joel watched you get beaten to near-death with a golf club. The same reality in which you nearly fucking died.
And all because of him.
In that same reality, however, he knows that that woman can no longer harm you. Or her friends.
He and Ellie made sure of that.
He took thorough satisfaction as he bludgeoned Abby to death, slower and even more painfully than she had with you. He hated the fact he reveled in it so much, but he did. And he would do it again, because as much as Joel regretted killing Abby’s father, he didn’t care about killing Abby. He couldn’t, no matter if he tried to make himself care. Because she nearly took you from him, and he wasn’t ever going to forgive that.
Never.
He eventually builds up enough courage to stand and enter your room. The second he passes through the threshold, Joel’s nearly collapsed and on the floor, heartbroken and overwhelmed with sadness. You looked terrible. Beyond terrible, truly.
Joel barely makes it to the chair at your bedside and unceremoniously falls into it. He almost tumbles out of the room and leaves, unable to stomach the sight of your face and appearance. The feelings that fills him makes him want to just go, but he wants, needs, really, to be in this room with you. He knows you’re alive, sure, but nothing compared to watching the sight of your chest rising and falling.
Nothing compared to feeling your hand in his.
You were warm. Not as warm as him, but you were warm. Warmer than you were when Ellie—
He physically shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He squeezes your hand gently, resting his head on the back of it.
Joel Miller had many regrets, including the choices he made that led up to this moment of you being in this bed. But the choices he made that were going to protect you (and the rest of his family) and keep you with him were ones he were never going to regret.
Ever.
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