#or even max and jace

[bastiandawn]

rambling about my sebastian """redemption""" au lest it consume me alive: part 2 of ??, characters (minus sebastian) and my thoughts on them

disclaimer: same as my last post, which you might want to read if you haven't. no sebastian in this post because everything that's wrong with him is filling an entire other future post on its own. also i was asked to tag this person in my future posts, so here you go: @jonathanspenguinboxers

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation (skip max lightwood paragraph 5, maureen brown paragraph 3), harm towards infants (skip jocelyn fray paragraph 1)

PART I: The Main Cast

1. clary fray morgenstern fairchild

for being the main character of the series, clary is personally the hardest to wrap my head around. i can't describe her strengths or her flaws, i can't tell you anything she does for herself that isn't a reaction to a plot event or done because of jace---and i don't know what sebastian was talking about, but she does not "have a dark heart". she doesn't even make a single narratively-acknowledged mistake or bad decision throughout the series, when everyone else does. clary never stands up for simon when any of the others pick on him for being a mundane, then a vampire. and she doesn't call simon out for cheating. clary doesn't struggle with being valentine's daughter the way jace does. and her relationship with jocelyn isn't complicated because of her mother hiding things from her, but because clary likes jace and jocelyn doesn't! at the risk of sounding harsh, clary's incredibly... nothing to me, which is so disappointing when she has a lot of potential!

to me, clary is someone who should feel completely lost at sea, someone who is constantly reaching for a lifesaver, only to have it ripped out from under her time and time again. this makes her cling onto whoever she can grasp and cling onto, even if it means dragging them both underwater. clary should be selfish, and desperate, and by all means codependent when it comes to jace or simon. let me have a clary who once wanted to be special but becomes special in the most twisted way possible; clary who once trusted but learns that none can be trusted; clary who is hurt and learns to hold onto that hurt; clary who ends up with a dark heart, because that is how she survives in this world. clary, who is far more like her brothers and father and especially more like her mother than she thought, because even if jocelyn left the circle, there was a reason she joined in the first place. clary, who might end her story a war hero, but she resents the ones to asked her to fight in the first place.

but i also think clary is someone who learns to choose herself first, to forge her own kind of peace in the thrashing waves, who learns that silence in the face of tyranny is cowardice and complacency, who rejects the instinct of revulsion in the face of what she doesn't yet understand, and people, unusual though they are, who are still people just like her. clary who once pushed herself down, but learns she deserves to take up space; clary who once held her tongue in fear, but learns to raise her voice to defend others; clary who is beat down, but learns to keep going no matter what; clary whose heart might be dark, but it isn't hardened and cold. clary who wants to help, not by wielding the tools of war, but reaching out her hand to pull someone back up.

my main arc for clary's story has her "fall" in the first trilogy, becoming more and more like a shadowhunter (which, as jace and jocelyn and valentine display, is not exactly the best mindset to have). in her search for identity and stability, clary is beckoned in by shadowhunters, given a place to belong, a goal to seek, family and friends she didn't know she was always missing... much like how valentine lured in the members of the circle. as i will forever continue to state: the circle is a symptom of shadowhunter culture as a whole, not an abnormal outlier. eventually, though, clary realizes the true darkness of the world she's found herself in: a world where those who aren't nephilim are automatically lesser beings; where even nephilim themselves, if they don't fit the mold, are cast aside. and by city of glass, clary has decided that, if simon or maia or magnus are not her equal, then she doesn't want to be worthy. the next trilogy is her and the others unlearning what they've been taught, becoming better and facing down the past in the form of sebastian, jace, and the endarkened circle. but as they've come to find out, there is no equality if they can't stand beside and uplift the downtrodden: if heaven cannot be moved, then they'll just have to raise hell.

2. jace lightwood, b. herondale

jace... was never my favorite. i found him exceedingly annoying, and i never got the satisfaction of seeing him knocked down or actually apologizing (to anyone but clary, anyways) and changing his ways. in fact, i still refuse to read city of bones or city of ashes because he's incredibly insufferable in both of those, and i have no idea what clary saw in him, other than him being allegedly attractive and being the first guy she ever kissed. (who then turned out to be---and still is in my eyes---her brother!) thankfully, i'm not cassandra clare, so i don't give a shit about keeping jace's humongously unearned ego in tact! have i made it clear i'm not his biggest fan? i don't hate jace, of course; i see a lot of potential in him, especially for his character arc, that was just left hanging in service of... well, you also know my thoughts on clace.

jace calling valentine his father, being raised as a fascist by a fascist, being further raised by the once-willing lackeys of that same fascist who themselves never learned to be better, being taught to find his peace in war and bloodshed, that he was special and above downworlders and "mundanes". jace and the lessons he is taught are never proven wrong or dangerous by the narrative; all the guilt he feels is only because he was the son of the wrong shadowhunter, not because looking down on others is wrong, or that his instinct of violence is deeply, deeply messed up.

my ideas for jace are largely covered in my post regarding the main plot of this au (him becoming the ultimate big bad and eventually choosing to be deruned), so i'll talk instead about his emotional journey. jace throughout the first trilogy remains largely the same as canon, wrestling with valentine being his father, then with himself having demon blood---but, like in canon, he doesn't delve much further into the true damage valentine dealt him, or his deal with the roots of his real character flaws. in the second trilogy, his inability to properly change results in him becoming a danger to the people he cares about: he is now the second leader of the circle, valentine's heir.

it is impossible to believe yourself entirely changed in a month; when you are entrenched in a belief system your entire life, you can be years away from leaving it and still find yourself parroting words from your childhood. unlearning is a lifelong process, and something where you must actively hold yourself accountable, as well as listen to others who point out your mistakes. jace's arrogance holds him back from ever listening; his pride keeps him from doing better; his self-loathing makes him believe he is incapable of change. and the symbol of all this, to me, is in fact the blood of the angel that valentine poured into his veins. when jace is living proof of valentine's success and favor, though the man himself is dead, jace cannot ever escape from his father's shadow---unless he cuts it out from him. in an act of symbolically bringing himself from heaven down to earth, jace is finally more human than he ever has been.

3. alec lightwood

so if i say i'm also not a fan of alec---okay, please don't quit reading! it's also because of his missed potential! i like alec fine enough later in the series, and i actually think his earlier character arcs make sense for his character (though i've also never been a fan of break-up arcs that don't last; just personal preference). but him becoming the liberal "we'll change the system from the inside!" consul did make me a little mad. i mean, i wasn't expecting cassandra clare to suddenly go full anarchy and destroy the shadowhunters, that's not the point or tone of the series (i hold out feeble hope), but this is my au, and i can do whatever i want with it. and alec!

alec is interesting as a gay shadowhunter who knows he's hated by the system he's put so much faith and blood in. but i don't think he should change because he falls in love with a downworlder, but because alec sees the problem with the system he once trusted, and chooses his true self over a mold to fit. i genuinely like malec, but for one, given shadowhunters have licenses to kill downworlders and lie about them being a threat while also claiming to protect them (so just like regular cops), and magnus has witnessed alec's parents commit murder because of their own bigotry, it kind of puts them on a weird, weird footing. and for two, magnus is 400 years old to alec's barely 18 when they first start dating... if alec had gotten a few more years on him to change and grow as a person, figure himself out, then i would have zero problems with malec as a whole.

which is what happens in my au: alec's arc over the first trilogy is coming to terms with his own sexuality, first afraid of being found out, and ending up still worried but willing to take a leap and chase after happiness. now, i don't think alec starts dating magnus right away---as i said, he has some changing to do---because alec's parents were important members of the circle, and while he was victim of their careless bigotry, he also isn't incapable of perpetuating it himself. if alec had stayed a shadowhunter and tried to change it from withn, he would be battling a thousand years of systematic privilege from within a crowd of thousands more unwilling to change what benefits them. though he might move an inch forward, even as consul, he will still be the head of an organization that has systematically stood on the backs of dead downworlders, while asking those same downworlders to accept him as their leader---and what of the one after him? but those are my two oversimplified cents on the matter.

in the second trilogy, magnus is an important part of getting the nephilim-downworlder alliance off the ground, and alec, with clary's encouragement, steps up as the nephilim representative. he listens, he learns, he reaches out to prove that people are capable of change, that being born into a horribly system doesn't absolve you of personal responsibility, but it also doesn't mean you can't use your privilege to help others.

4. isabelle lightwood

izzy is perfect: no notes! no, i'm not even kidding. isabelle is the best written main character in the mortal instruments, and i am so mad she barely shows up in any series or short story after that. we barely get anything on what she does after the series other than "goes travelling". what are izzy's goals in life? what does she want to accomplish?! why won't cassandra clare tell us anything?!? i'm so roadblocked on figuring out where isabelle goes in this au, and i am sending out a psychic message to all the izzyheads out there to help me! if you can stand the sebastian-clogged cesspool, that is. so sorry to our queen. so far, isabelle has some tentative story hooks in fairie, some in the downworlder-nephilim alliance, some with the praetor lupus... a woman who dabbles in many things, but hasn't yet found her true calling, i suppose.

her emotional arc through the trilogies has to deal more with grief and keeping it inside; max isn't dead, but in choosing her loyalty to her older brothers over her parents, her family, life, and everything she believes in is split in two. isabelle feels the weight of this loss so deeply, and though she knows alec would understand, even comfort her, izzy does feel a certain responsibility to stand upright and hold her own. they don't have their parents to fall back on anymore. all isabelle has is herself, especially after jace is gone and worse and it's not fair to burden alec. but she's eventually reminded that it isn't just her and alec and jace anymore: now she has clary, and simon, and magnus and maia and jordan. for all the family she's lost, there's more that she's found.

5. simon/debbie lewis

here is where i dump all my gender/sexuality headcanons for all the characters, because much like with izzy i also have no notes for simon. okay, well a couple notes: simon's judaism in relation to his vampirism is kind of underexplored. i mean, it's said he still believes, but does he still try to practice his faith? does he seek out other jewish vampires? does he try to keep a vampiric form of kosher... even if blood kind of by definition isn't kosher, but you get what i mean. he does all of this in my au, by the way, and he doesn't stop being a vampire. simon is way, way more interesting as a vampire than he ever is as a shadowhunter, because cassandra clare gets halfway through exploring the dillemma of "why does simon still want to be a shadowhunter when he knows firsthand their bigotry?" and then just drops it. simon doesn't even join or help out the shadowhunter-downworlder alliance. he's a recruiter, which considering he's definitely traumatized by what happened to george, is like if i joined the army, saw my best friend get shot in the head during bootcamp, and went out to recruit more kids! actually, maybe that explains simon... (fuck the army by the way.)

i guess i actually had more notes than i thought! anyway, here's the actual queer headcanons: so you're probably wondering who "debbie" is in the name card---in my au, debbie is (well, was) simon, five-odd years down the line after the mortal instruments and settling into her life working with the downworlder-nephilim alliance. how i use each name depends on where she is in the timeline, or (if like before) i'm referring to canon. my reasoning for making debbie (short for deborah) who she is is mostly just... well, i find it really easy to find trans readings in a lot of places, with a lot of characters. her arc being a fledgling vampire, being not-quite part of her friend group (though they accept her, kind of, she's not really in with them); being kicked out of her home and seen as dangerous; seeking help from people supposedly like her who also see her as dangerous and "other"... not to mention simon's canonical struggle with a shadowhunter's more "traditional" masculinity; how he kind of stands out from eric, kirk, and matt and their painfully heterosexual nonsense (especially eric)---there's so much to dig into. so if a future post of mine mentions debbie lewis, you know who she is!

my other headcanons (although, since this is an au where everything i say goes, maybe they're just "canons") also include transgirl clary, who is kind of stealth-mode during the first trilogy but comes out later. my reading of her is less obvious than debbie's to me, but there's still a lot: clary is raised with a huge portion of her identity forcefully kept hidden; she has no other friends other than simon, especially not other girls, who she constantly compares herself to as being more glamorous/effortlessly "girly"; her act of triumph over valentine is her having her name recognized by the angel raziel himself, and having valentine finally see her. oh and t4t clary/debbie (or lewfray, as is the superior ship name) is real to me for this au. i don't need to explain this to you.

i wrote a lot, so quickfire round: bigender bisexual jace (would find him less annoying if she were a girl sometimes); nonbinary magnus (i know cassandra clare is cishet because otherwise he would be a drag queen); bisexual isabelle and lesbian maia (and they're dating each other); and aroace max lightwood. umm, and if you want to know my thoughts about sebastian: freud would have a field day with him. i'm only partially joking.

6. magnus bane

i also have little to say about magnus, who i like very much even if he doesn't do a whole lot in the mortal instruments. i like him in the eldest curses, and i love him in the bane chronicles. so i'll use this to talk about the formation of the downworlder-nephilim alliance and whoever is in it. as i've mentioned, the alliance was formed in response to jace's assumption of the circle's leadership, whereupon they withdrew to idris to start essentially plotting world domination. in order to defend the world from the endarkened, the downworlders, alongside the few nephilim that left shadowhunterdom, formed a coalition, which then solidified into the alliance. the werewolves, led by luke's pack and the praetor lupus, were the first to agree, then the vampires, after a meeting between maureen brown and simon. the warlocks were then convinced by magnus to lend their aid, and though the fey were somewhat hesitant to agree, sebastian showed back up (after a brief disappearance post-burren) to "persuade" the queen.

magnus is obviously the alliance's main warlock representative, though it's less of a strict role and more symbolic per-meeting; sometimes it's catarina, sometimes it's tessa. for the vampires, it would've been raphael, after maureen stepped down, but raphael doesn't like alec, so he left the table to anselm nightshade. praetor scott has defacto leadership of the werewolves, and the seelie court is represented alternatingly by meliorn and kaelie whitewillow, while the unseelie court prefers to keep their hands out of this.

HALFWAY MARK CHECKPOINT! if thou hast managed to brave all mine insane and perhaps controversial thoughts, it's time to rest your eyes, process what you've read, etc. maybe send me an ask or dm me, i'm always down to hear what others think!

PART II: Everyone Else Involved With Sebastian

1. maxwell lightwood

the real meat of my au lies with maxwell---don't call him max, he's not a little kid anymore, alec---lightwood. as i explained in my previous post, max survives being attacked by sebastian with the help of a rune from a barely-concious isabelle. however, like his father robert, max's body rejects the rune and leaving him in a feverish coma for weeks. when he awakens, it's to a cold and lonely institute: siblings long gone, his parents asleep in far separate bedrooms---and a conversation drifting in from the library... from then on, the road maxwell takes is a little bit fuzzy on the details; this au is still a work-in-progress, after all. but two things are for certain: maxwell ends up reunited with his siblings, with alec and magnus as his new guardians, and he forces his way into becoming sebastian's apprentice. all to learn what sebastian knows, so that one day, maxwell can have his revenge.

this decision definitely wasn't taken lightly by anyone who knew sebastian: everyone did everything they could to stop max, short of locking him in a room---but maxwell would've found a way out, fists bloodied and bruised in determination. i said that max survived the attack, but that's only partially true. max, their baby brother, kind and trusting, ended with sebastian's betrayal; and there is only maxwell, who is angry and distrusting of everyone, who remembers his family only ever pushing him aside, dismissing him as "too young" to know anything. when the one time he knew something they didn't, they didn't listen. alec, isabelle, and jace have a choice, then: lose max to sebastian a second time, or destroy any chance to repair their relationship with their brother forever.

under sebastian's mentorship, maxwell grows up keeping secrets well, learning to hide his anger---though he is not so dishonest as to keep his clipped, monotone sentences away from his family. maxwell learns to be wary of smiles when you haven't seen the worst of what lies underneath: perhaps this is why he finds it easier to talk to sebastian than alec, even when he knows his brother tries so hard to love him. maxwell is quiet, patient, a strategizer; yet he is not afraid to hurt others, or himself, to achieve what his goals with steady, straightforward aim. maxwell is a soldier valentine would have approved of. sometimes maxwell meets sebastian's eyes and wonders if that is what sebastian was seeking when he agreed to pass on what he was taught.

maxwell is lonely, and sebastian is lonely too, and they are almost like brothers, the way they tell each other what they can't tell anyone else. and maxwell is a good student, too; he expects that, in a few more years, he will be able to kill sebastian. but sebastian knows how to cast magic, and perhaps maxwell ought to master that, too, and who knows how many years that will take...

i personally see a quiet tragedy in sebastian and maxwell's relationship, a sad brotherhood that they know should end, that they want to end, right? in my mind, sebastian started teaching maxwell (among other emotionally-jumbled reasons) as a form of extended suicide; maxwell asked to learn, knowing sebastian was fully capable of killing him. it can only end in death. one will kill the other, and didn't they already know that from the start? why are they shying away from the inevitable? i've said so much already, but there's more to be said in the fic i'll eventually write, so i'm afraid i'll have to leave it here for now.

2. jocelyn fray garroway

honestly, i think jocelyn should've been more messed up. telling sebastian "i should've killed you when you were a baby" after calling him a demon-thing---it plays on loop in my head. i have always has a fondness for morally-gray mothers, and jocelyn is by far my most favorite despite the narrative not wanting to acknowledge how kind of fucked up jocelyn can be. i say this with the utmost love in my heart: jocelyn and valentine ended up together for a reason, and there is a reason their children (jace included) are like that in my mind. i don't think jocelyn can ever be counted as a good person, and that's incredibly captivating for me.

thinking about jocelyn and how she interacts with her now-adult children is such a fascinating topic for me, especially with my clary being trans: sebastian is the son she still can't believe is capable of good, and though she wants to be able to love him, she can't look at him without seeing demon blood; clary has slowly distanced herself from jocelyn, though she knows she is loved and still loves her mother... but there are just some things you can't get past. and then there's jace, who led the near second-coming of the circle.

jocelyn is married to the love of her life and they have a little girl together, a girl with flame-red hair and luke-blue eyes, a girl who is nothing like her older siblings and will never know the full extent of the darkness in her family's past... but jocelyn can't help but wonder if, even if she tries her damndest not to make the same mistakes, something will slip in all the same.

3. tessa and jem gray-carstairs

these two are just nice; not too much to say. i need to get around to reading the last hours to get more of tessa as a person and parent, but other than the bits with malcolm fade (and we will get to him), it hasn't quite pulled me in. i think sebastian would remind tessa a lot of her own brother nathaniel, his situation and whether he would've chosen differently if she'd tried something else... and i think sebastian would remind her of her own children, especially the snippets i know of james. i'm generally less certain when it comes to writing tessa and jem, but i'm fairly certain that they have a lot of wisdom that---even though sebastian is too closed-up to properly communicate with them---would help him along his very winding road to... wherever it is he's headed.

they are glad for his help in tracking down the lost herondale, though, even if they're somewhat worried he might be overzealous. after the trouble with sammael and the svefnthorn, sebastian has become a lot more... focused, yet secretive; tessa and jem have asked malcolm to keep an eye on him, as somehow, malcolm and sebastian have sparked a very unlikely friendship. malcolm assures them sebastian keeps out of trouble, but you never really know with children like him...

4. shinyun jung

imagine being a child, rejected by the mother that was supposed to love you, because of something she saw in your face that terrified her. despite this, you are welcomed into the arms of a cult that calls you special, raised to love a father who you would do anything for, molded into a loyal weapon because he is the only one that could love you. you do everything he wants, you kill and lie in service of his plan; you find someone, a sibling, even, who could be like you, but who ultimately disappoints you. and on the day of summoning, when you are supposed to be elevated to your father's right hand---he chooses another, the failure, the rebel, and discards you, who has only ever been what he asked you to become.

now, am i describing sebastian or shinyun? exactly! it's very unfortunate that these two never get to meet in any universe, because shinyun is pretty much everything sebastian could want in "someone like him" (minus the red hair). and she actually does have a dark heart---a particularly dark heart. in this au, shinyun and sebastian's involvement in each other's lives is brief but incredibly torrid: sebastian has everything, is everything shinyun wants and wants to be. he's been granted immeasurable power by sammael and lilith themselves---and he doesn't want it. but he does want her. i think they'd drive each other insane.

in my mind, sebastian has always been a twisted sort of romantic (less in the actual dating sense and more in the poetry / optimism sense) and as we know, he's pretty desperate for connection and understanding. shinyun, meanwhile, is burned so bad from asmodeus, and she's so closed-off in her quest for power, that i'm not really sure who would get their way. unstoppable force meets immovable object. at least up until shinyun becomes a demon and all that. worst breakup ever. (but i bet sebastian still holds out hope for seeing her again.)

i'm mostly waiting on the final installment of the eldest curses so i can finally sink my teeth into shinyun in all her glory. and figure out how she'd fit into the rest of my plans...

5. maureen brown

second part of my "indoctrinating you into character pairs you'd never consider but make perfect sense to me" series! on one of my many rereads of all the sebastian scenes, i began to notice a couple of things: sebastian's unusual soft spot for vampires, and the strange similarity of his "love language" compared to one queen maureen's. now, i've kept her alive in my au basically since the beginning, because there's something just so sad and tragic about her arc that it made me almost frustrated that it just ended with her dying. i've noticed a concerning pattern in the shadowhunter chronicles, and that is characters who aren't traumatized in the right ways (aka non-violent/"disturbing") are basically treated as broken or dangerous and "better off dead". maureen is one, but so is annabel and arthur blackthorn.

but before i get into a rant, let me briefly summarize my plan for maureen: after lilith's death and sebastian's resurrection, maureen scatters to the winds. simon and jordan look for her, perhaps even running into nick, but they don't find her up until word of camille bellecourt's death spreads and maureen becomes queen of the dumort. when seeking help from the vampires for the coalition, maureen refuses until they hand simon over; simon goes willingly, talks to maureen, and apologizes fully to her for being the reason she died, not being there to save her, and again failing her by not being able to keep her from going feral and hurting others. in my mind, maureen acts flighty and playful because she is unable to face her trauma, given how distressing and terrifying it must have been for a child. but something in the apology cracks apart the fragile veneer she's put up. maureen flees into the night once more, and while raphael is able to rally the vampires for the final battle, it isn't until a good few days later when maureen is found.

she's in her old bedroom in her now-abandoned apartment, just before the sun rises through the window. maureen condemns herself as a monster, crying for her mother; by some twist of fate, sebastian is there with the rest who find her. if she is a monster, he says, then he is far worse; and yet, there are people who have not given up hope on them being good, for whatever reason. i imagine he says it in a far more bewildered and self-depricating way, but maureen hears "you're like me." maureen immediately gets a huge crush on sebastian, who has exactly zero opinions on this apart from "this may be useful at some point". now he's got a teen vampire superfan tag-along.

maureen, like any teenager-turned-young-adult, has a lot of insecurity going on: being turned at such a young age makes her panic about not being able to grow up like everyone else around her, being unable to live the same lives as everyone else, chase the dream of becoming a filmmaker that she's always had. i deal with this and more in my fic! but she's such a special character to me: if clary is cassandra clare's self-insert, then maureen is sort of who i eventually aspire to become.

6. ash morgenstern

last but not least, the son and grandson of the devils themselves! lots of everything about ash are spoilers for the future fic (which is the same reason i'm not adding malcolm), but i'll just say that ash will be a couple years younger than he first appears in canon, and sebastian will have crazy mental illness about being a father. i remember telling a friend that if sebastian getting custody was the worst thing to happen to canon ash, then this au sebastian getting custody is... the most necessary thing to happen to ash. for his character development, you see. ideally, i would write the fic with all of the wicked powers released, so i could see what's going on in canon ash's little brain, but i think with all the changes, it's definitely going to veer far away from canon. we will see!

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU MADE IT THROUGH! what can i say? i knew you could do it! no but seriously, thank you if you made it this far, and for tolerating all my ideas. once again, don't be afraid to send me an ask or dm! i am notoriously unable to keep secrets from friends so who knows, you might learn the entire plot to my fic before i write it...

actually i feel like i need to give you an extra reward for sticking it through. here have this basyun doodle from 2023 <3 mwah i love you

[apricusapollo]

my all time favourite relationship in shadowhunters is alec and izzy. nothing and I mean NOTHING will ever compare to how they make me feel. the way they love each other and always protect each other and always stand by each other's side NO MATTER WHAT? their bond means so much to me.

[greenreticule]

I can't stop thinking about Gorgug's roll against Jace's spell. I looked it up, and it seems like the highest spell save DC (level 20, max proficiency modifier) is 20. So unless Jace had some extra juice from somewhere, Gorgug saved on that 22.

Emily or Siobhan suggested it was Detect Thoughts to get Ankarna's name. But if that was the case, Gorgug would know that; it's part of the spell. Then again, I don't see many other Wisdom saving throw spells in the sorcerer's kit that make sense for that arrival-cast-recall strategy. So maybe it was Detect Thoughts and Brennan just forgot.

Regardless of what it was, I am just so delighted that they targeted Gorgug.

Porter always underestimated him AND it's textbook strategy to hit the barbarian with a Wisdom saving throw. They were so sure that they had it in the bag that they had recall IMMEDIATELY on hand.

But Gorgug isn't by the book. He hasn't been since day one. And even rolling with disadvantage, he made them leave with nothing.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Shut Me Up

Summary: years after falling out, her, Aemond and the friend group take a summer trip to their Dornish villa, where real intentions make themselves known | word count: 9.2k | warnings: smut, choking, hair pulling, spanking, enemies to lovers ish, swearing, mentions of marijuana use, fingering

A/N: didn't mean to post this on the Mitchelly man's birthday but here we are. A little smutty number in celebration of my seasonal depression cured. And for this fic let's pretend they're all not related, mmk

She thought it'd stay in the group chat, like most of their holiday plans.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for some, it had somehow materialised into a long weekend away on the white sand Dornish beaches. Her bank account was not particularly happy, but the promise of endless sun, cocktails, friends and fun, would just about make up for it, she supposed.

As the only one with a credit card that wasn't maxed out, she rented the hire van for the six hour road trip it would take to get to the villa. She tried, often, to persuade Baela or Helaena into driving. But the former insisted on doing her makeup in the passenger seat for the first leg of the journey, and the latter, well, she'd likely be handing out the space brownies in the back seat.

So it was decided, in the end, Baela would pick up the second half of the drive. She prayed, for the sake of her deposit, that the roads were clear.

The force at which Rhaena threw her overnight bag at her nearly knocked all the wind out of her, “fuck me, Rhae, the hell is in this thing?”

“What? I need to bring aftersun, painkillers, first aid kit, blister patches—”

Baela snorts, brushing past her anxious twin to stuff her bag in the boot of the van, “Rhaena’s brain doesn't know the difference between having a gun to her head and being unprepared.”

“At least you pack lightly,” she smirks, raising a brow, trying her best to shove the luggage aside to fit.

Jace was quick to follow out, his flip flops unabashedly falling to pieces, clad in khaki shorts and a white shirt. She'll never get her head around what Baela sees in him. Sure he's funny, attractive, but he dresses like he's done it in the dark and it's still the early 2000s.

She watches as Helaena and Aegon squabble for the house keys to lock up, having hosted Jace, Baela and Rhaena the night before in preparation for the trip. Luke and Daeron, as fun as they are to have around, are too young for a trip like this. And it's probably for the better anyway, knowing the history between Aemond and Luke. The incident that nobody really dares to talk about.

Helaena beamed, eyes tinged pink from either sun or something stronger as she clambered into the back of the van in a boho white dress. There was an easy air about everything. An excitement that cut through the humid air that billowed off the concrete pavements. The sort you only get from going on holiday.

And Aegon, well.

He's Aegon.

He winks, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes, “hey babe.”

“Absolutely fucking not, Aegon. Get in the van.”

He feigns disappointment, “you're breaking my fucking heart.”

“You'll live.”

Aegon snacks Helaena's arm to budge up a space and plonks himself right in the middle seat, stretching his legs out only to annoy Rhaena in the seat in front.

“Who's ready for a road trip!” Helaena squealed excitedly.

Baela laughed, glancing back over Jace’s arm that was around her shoulders, “are you high already?”

“Excuse you, I am perfectly sober.”

“She's high,” Rhaena added, barely looking up from her phone.

She bit back a laugh, and was about to ask where the last passenger was, always late but hey, reliably late. But he appeared before she had the chance to utter the words.

Aemond.

He walked towards the van with the usual effortless arrogance, duffel bag shoved over his shoulder, silver hair pulled into a lazy knot. He was dressed in all black because of course he was. Even if it was nearly 40 degrees Celsius and hot enough to fry an egg on the kerb.

To be fair, she'd not seen him in a while, so she looked him up and down, and he was, if not a little bit taller than the last time she saw him. And the scar that lined through his brow, through his eye and down his cheek was almost silvery in the midday sun.

Aside from that, he was still the most raging twat she'd ever met.

For the slightest second, their gazes met, but he was first to look away. No smirk. No greeting. Just the cold, unreadable calm. 

“Here he is, our favourite brooder,” Aegon laughed.

Aemond exhaled through his nose, sighing into the last seat at the very back and tucking his bag between his feet, “shut up, Aegon.”

Aegon grinned, clapping him on the shoulder, “Gods I missed this family dynamic. It's so fucking healthy.”

She pretended to instead be interested with how to turn the headlights on and off, even though she wouldn't need them on the six hour drive. Boot closed, engine roaring and everyone, well…nearly everyone, squealed ‘let’s go!’.

The inside of the car smelled like sun cream, salty crisps, and whatever questionable concoction Aegon had decided to mix into his oversized tumbler. The air-conditioning was on full blast, fighting against the relentless Dornish heat.

Helaena, currently high as hell of a ‘brownie’, was sprawled out like a sun-dazed lizard, arms stretched above her head, blinking lazily at the passing scenery.

Aegon chuckled, “how many did you eat, Hel?”

Helaena giggled, “like…one and a half. But they were big,” she raised her fingers like she was measuring something ridiculous.

She looked in the rear-view mirror as a car behind them overtook them on the dual carriageway, and caught eyes with Aemond, who had his noise cancelling headphones on. The blue of one eye and the misty grey of the other made her heart leap as they clocked on hers, however briefly. And Baela certainly noticed how hard she gripped the steering wheel.

Aemond looked largely the same, lean but built, sharp features, all arrogance albeit silent. And though his hair was tied back, a few strands were loose. And she hated that she noticed.

It had been years since the falling out.

It was a terrible mix. They were teenagers. Had a bit to drink, when the tolerance was horrific. Followed by a very public argument at one of his family gatherings that ended in her calling him a ‘pretentious, controlling asshole’. And well, the rest was history. They existed whenever the friend group got together, each too stubborn to force the friendship group to adjust to their spat, but she avoided him all the same.

For the record she still thought he was all of the above.

The drive was quiet but long. And between Helaena's spaced-out ramblings, Jace’s terrible choice in music and Rhaena complaining she needed to pee, Baela took it upon herself to find a service station to stop up. And as soon as the handbrake was up, the doors flew open and they all rushed out like a chaotic clown car act.

The station was nothing special, some off-brand fast food places and a tiny shop for snacks and drinks. But it would do. She hopped out the drivers side and down the side of the van, bristling when Aemond climbed out his side and they brushed shoulders.

He smirked, “relax, I'm not going to bite.”

All she could do was shake her head and throw a face of disgust that Baela certainly didn't miss, “are you two still at it?” she asked, amused, “this has been going on for years. Honestly impressive at this point.”

She rolled her eyes, watching as Aemond stalked off behind Aegon to the shop, “I don’t have the energy to argue with someone who thinks he’s better than everyone else just because he reads philosophy books and drives like he’s in a Fast and Furious movie.”

Aemond didn't go inside, he leaned on the wall, stoking up a cigarette, the lazy smoke dwindling from his lips into the hazy Dornish air. She hated the way he was just so effortlessly nonchalant, like he belonged in an black and white movie.

“You’re staring,” Baela said, voice laced with amusement.

She tore her gaze away, scowling, “I am not.”

Baela hummed knowingly, “suuuure. You know, if you just fucked it out, all this tension would be gone.”

She choked through a sip of water, “Baela—”

“What? I’m just saying,” she shrugged, smirking, “I mean, I don’t even think he hates you as much as you think he does.”

She scoffed, “please. We’ve been at each other’s throats since we were kids. Aemond thrives on making my life miserable.”

“Or,” Baela drawled, “he thrives on getting under your skin because he likes your reaction.”

She rolled her eyes, but her face felt hot, was she getting a sunburn? “We’re not having this conversation.”

“Fine, fine,” she relented, then, casually, she added, “by the way, I heard he and Alys broke up. Months ago.”

That made her freeze.

Baela watched her expression closely, like she was waiting for a reaction. She forced a neutral shrug, stuffing her hands into her pockets, “and?”

“And,” she smirked, “you’re pretending you don’t care.”

Did she care? Really?

“I'm going to pretend we didn't have this conversation.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Baela laughed without a care as Rhaena bounded back up to them with a handful of snacks. Aegon and the rest weren't far behind.

Aegon groaned, “thank the gods I was about to gnaw my own arm off.”

“I don’t know how you’re hungry,” she replied, eyeing him, “you inhaled half a bag of crisps like ten minutes ago.”

“I'm a growing boy,” he winked. Making the others gag.

Mercifully, nothing more was said on the matter. She simply graced the spot where Baela had been sat, had her snacks and let her drive the rest of the way. Rolling down her window, she let her hand rest out of it, the warm, dull air flowing through her fingers. Blissfully ignorant of her nemesis in the back seat.

She knew their dad was rich but Viserys’ obnoxiously sized villa was so endless it bordered on ridiculous. It was perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the endless blue stretch of sea, with a white, sandy beach sprawling at the foot of it.

The villa was no eyesore either. It's sunbleached patios, white stone walls and glass doors all reflected the shimmer of the sunlight on the water. And despite having the literal sea at your feet, the pool sat beneath the balcony, wide, deep and perfectly maintained.

Viserys Targaryen never did anything by halves.

Aegon whistled, “fuck me, I knew the old man had money, but taste?”

Helaena pushed by him, bag in tow, “I get the biggest room!”

“No you fucking don't—” Aegon called, running after her like a child.

She stretched her legs, hopping out of the van and inhaling the warm, salty sea air. The view was ridiculous, and a natural staircase made of stone led down the side towards the private beach.

Baela nudged her arm, “this is amazing.”

She nodded, “despite the company, this trip might be bearable.”

Aemond, audibly, trudged past with his duffel bag, lazily making his way into the villa with a smirk as if he'd heard.

Yep. Bearable.

Everyone was too exhausted to do anything but dump their bags in their rooms and laze around the pool. That, and raiding the kitchen for all the food.

By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, everyone had found their spots and Jace and Aegon were already three beers deep and failing to pot anything at the pool table. She had found herself with the girls poolside, nursing a bottle as they dipped their feet in the cool water.

“We're all waking up early for the beach,” Rhaena declared, loud enough for Aegon to groan.

She laughs, the water rippling around her legs, “what are we doing swimsuit-wise? Practical or hot?”

“Hot.”

“Hot!”

Rhaena and Baela answered simultaneously.

“Hey I've seen you in the bikini, you'll give someone a heart attack,” Baela grinned.

“Shut up.”

Maybe it wasn't heart attack worthy, but the bikini certainly was something. It had honestly felt like she'd lived a lifetime since last seeing herself in swimwear, the seasonal depression had done no favours there. But now, looking at herself in the mirror, she nodded and pulled her hair away from her face, lathering herself with sun cream before attempting the blazing Dornish midday.

“Gods, if I were gay,” Baela whistled from where she sat on the bed, a dark blue translucent shawl tucked over her shoulders.

She rolled her eyes with a snort, “please, you'll be gushing in thirty seconds about how Jace looks in knee length shorts.”

“Hey. Knee length shorts gets some girls going, okay?”

Rhaena scoffs, white streaks of half-rubbed in sun cream glazing her cheeks, “just you, sis.”

Yep, definitely just you, she thinks.

She'd underestimated the beach. It was gorgeous, idyllic, in fact there weren't enough words. It was just secluded enough to feel private, and nobody wasted any time in making use of it. 

Some jumped head first into the waves, tackling and splashing. Aegon had brought with him a garish purple lilo, which Jace found great pleasure in flipping over occasionally, dunking Aegon and whatever drink he was holding into the turquoise water.

Even Aemond, who usually abstained from these sort of activities, had shed his shirt and waded lazily into the water, the sun somewhat reflecting off his sun-cream glistened skin.

She hated that she noticed.

Even more, she hated the way the water made his hair a shade darker, how the drops of water ran down his chest—

No. No. Nope.

She leaned back on the sun bed, pushing her hat over her eyes, willing the image out of her mind as quick as it had come. And the first day passed quickly. She'd dipped in the sea, yes, but not the boyish, rowdy behaviour that the boys and even Helaena were sporting. Most of it was spent lounging, relaxing.

Burning.

Gods, a lot of burning.

By the time night-time had rolled around, her shoulders were pink, mirrored with a dusty line across her cheeks and nose. The ticklish sensation hadn't kicked in yet. That was tomorrow her’s problem.

Right now, all she needed was a nice cold shower and peace.

And peace she found. The villa fell into an easy, relaxed quiet. Somewhere down the hall Aegon was giggling drunkenly, Baela was probably spooning Jace and she could fear the faint sound of TV through Helaena's bedroom.

She padded barefoot across the cool tiles, pushing open the balcony doors that graced one side of her room. The breeze crept in, welcome and warm on her skin, just enough to let in the salty scent in the air.

She mindlessly rubbed the back of her neck where the bikini top had made its tan line. Or what would eventually be a tan line anyway, right now it looked more scarlet. Staring out, the flickering lights of nearby villages blinked in the distance, sparkling along the peninsula where the villa sat atop.

The reflection of the lit pool below caught her eye, and she felt her throat tighten at the sight. Swimming, in the dark and illuminated only by the cool lights beneath the water, was Aemond, cutting through the water with lazy, practiced strokes.

He was alone. Quiet. And ashamed to say he looked good.

The thought came before it could be stopped, but once it was there it took root, and an immediate scowl crept to her face at her weakness. 

His bare shoulders gleamed under the tempered light, lean, toned frame moving through the water with a silent grace. The water had made his hair slicked back, revealing the cut of his jaw, and the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Aemond ran his hands over his face, leaning back with a sigh to dip his hair back into the water. Her heart nearly leapt through her chest as his gaze lifted to her on the balcony, catching her watching him.

Shit.

Her stomach twisted, heat crept up her neck and it absolutely wasn't sunburn. She could do nothing more than just pretend she wasn't watching him, so she turned on her heel, and slid back inside her room, holding the balcony doors shut with her heart rate going a mile a minute.

She could feel his gaze as she shut the door. Could imagine his expression too, smug bastard. 

Mouth suddenly dry, she pulled her shawl around her tighter and made for the kitchen, needing something to take away this aftertaste. Grumbling and sighing, she scolded herself, barely even at the cupboard before she spotted him.

He was standing by the fridge, bottle of water in hand, in nothing more than the shorts he was wearing to swim resting low on his hips. His hair was still damp, but some bits curled around his face, and she hoped he hadn't seen the way she noticed the slightest ‘v’ that disappeared below the waistband.

He turned, perfectly calm, as if he hadn't just caught her staring for the second time in ten minutes.

“Can't sleep?”

She crossed her arms, looking off, “needed water.”

He laughed once, breathy, and threw the water he was holding to her, which she caught with her other hand as it slipped through her fingers. 

“Thanks.”

The moment stretched. 

She only watched from her periphery as Aemond grabbed another from the fridge, and twisted off the cap. She had luckily resisted the urge to watch him bring it to his lips and down half as if he was parched.

No sooner had she bought the bottle to her own lips.

“You keep looking at me like that.”

She nearly choked on her water.

Her fingers tightened around the bottle, crinkling under the pressure as she turned to glare at him. “Like what?”

His eye flickered, taking her in with slow, assessing amusement. “You tell me.”

Her breath hitched, and she hated that her body betrayed her, the way her thighs tensed slightly, the way her fingers curled. Aemond noticed. Of course he did.

She rolled her eyes, masking the heat creeping up her neck, “you’re delusional.”

He chuckled, taking a slow sip of his water, his smirk never fading.

“Sure,” he murmured.

Rolling her eyes came naturally, “I still don’t know why you even came on this trip.”

Aemond raised a brow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She scoffed. “Because you hate me.”

He tilted his head, considering her, his smirk turning thoughtful. “And what gave you that idea?”

She drained the bottle and crushed it with her palm, annoyance brewing, and she saw the amused quirk of his brow, “oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’ve spent the last few years acting like I’m the most insufferable person in existence?”

“You're not insufferable,” he chuckled, “maybe a bit, actually.”

She blinked, “excuse me?”

He shrugged, “I never said I hated you.”

She let out a dry laugh, “right. So all those times you went out of your way to argue with me? That wasn’t hatred?”

“I think you’re confusing hatred with enjoyment.”

She stomach flipped. No. Nope. Absolutely not.

She pointed a finger at him, “don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

That tone. That fucking tone. The one that was both amused and knowing, the one that made her face heat up against her will.

Aemond tilted his head, his voice dropping just slightly. “If I hated you,” he said, “I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

She stared at him. The smirk had slipped from his lips. The teasing tone gone. Fuck. 

There was something in his gaze that was something else entirely and she wasn't sure she wanted the flip of her tummy to tell her what it was. She swallowed hard. And before she did or said something stupid, turned on her heel and left to the sanctuary of her room.

And he let her.

A lazy morning was needed for most to sleep off the sunburns and drinks, but for her, she needed the lie in just to avoid running into Aemond as much as possible.

So with the day ahead, they'd decided to go to Sunspear Old Village, a collection of independent restaurants, shops and bakeries. The drive was short, but the difference between the villa and the sprawling village side streets was immediate.

The atmosphere was exciting, sunny, citrus and salt, vendors calling out for customer's attention. Markets lined the stoned path, freshly baked goods, colourful fabrics and handcrafted jewellery.

She and Baela lagged behind, a large sunhat on both their heads to shield from the unyielding sun, taking their time weaving through the stalls, oo-ing and ah-ing at the various Dornish wares.

One particular stall was everything she liked. Handmade jewellery of all golden hues, one worker was moulding a ring into shape and another was placing stencils against thinly laid gold and striking it with a mallet.

The one she liked was a small, golden sun pendant. Dark gold. Delicate and yet striking despite its simple design. The metal was hammered in small indents, and she marvelled at the craftsmanship with her fingertip over the surface.

“You should get it,” Baela insisted.

She tilted her head, “hm, I could but…don't really need it, and I didn't exchange enough money.”

“Since when did you need an excuse to buy jewellery?”

She grinned at Baela, glancing back at Aemond and Helaena as they toddled behind. The taller man had his hands in his pockets, sighing as his sister dragged him into yet another stall. 

She swore she caught his gaze on her, for a split second.

Baela was too observant for her own good. “You are so fucking obvious.”

“What?”

“I heard you two talking last night.”

She nearly choked on air, “what the hell, Baela—”

She snorted a laugh, pulling her sunhat over her eyes, “I wasn't eavesdropping! I just wanted a glass of water when I heard—” she straightened her back, puffing out her chest, “you keep looking at me like that.”

She gasped, smacking her arm, “Baela!”

She laughed, dodging herr second hit. "Oh, come on! That was the most tension I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought you two were about to—"

"Don’t. Even. Finish. That. Sentence."

Baela just smirked, eyes twinkling. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You so are.”

She huffed, opening her mouth to fire back–

A flash of white and gold hurtled between them, and Helaena, her dress swishing around her shins, beamed up, “look!” she exclaimed, vibrating with excitement as she presented a gold charm in her palm, “it’s a scorpion!”

Neither of them could hide their amusement. 

“Hel, of all the things to buy,” Baela smirked.

Helaena just grinned, unbothered, “scorpions are lucky,” she said matter-of-factly. 

She laughed a little, half in amusement and half because it must be nice to see the bright side of everything, “of course you’d find something weirdly meaningful.”

Hel clutched it happily, “I’m going to put it on my keychain.”

She exchanged looks with Baela, who simply shrugged. Helaena was Helaena.

And then, as if she could sense the conversation she had just interrupted, she tilted her head at her, blinking dreamily. “Are you flirting with Aemond?”

And all it took was Baela barking out into fits of laughter for her to roll her eyes, pretend those words hadn’t just come out of Helaena’s mouth and jog forwards to Rhaena instead, who mercifully was blissfully unaware of anything going on with the aforementioned Targaryen.

She and the girls had taken it upon themselves to bring down some food from the kitchen as well as the fire pit, nestling it into the sand and pulling their shawls over their shoulders to stay off the chill once the sun had dipped with the temperature.

Aegon, as expected, was putting on a show. The moment the flames came to life, he thumped his chest like a deranged caveman, grinning wildly, waiting for laughter that never came.

Baela, unimpressed but entertained, simply lifted her phone. Flash. Click. Post.

Aegon froze mid-motion, the colour draining from his face. “Baela. Delete that.”

She smirked, tucking her phone away. “Nope.”

“I will literally die if that’s on the internet.”

“It’s already on Instagram.”

With a loud groan, Aegon flopped backward into the sand, arms outstretched in defeat. Baela only grinned, her attention shifting to the half-empty bottle beside her. “Oh, fuck, we’re out of vodka.”

She nestled herself closer to Jace, clearly not intending to move.

From across the fire, she scoffed. “I’ll get some, you lazy fuckers.”

Aegon half-heartedly saluted, “brave of you. I wouldn’t make it up those stairs sober, let alone drunk.”

He wasn’t wrong. The private staircase leading up to the villa was steep and unforgiving, and this was, what, her fourth time climbing it today? With a resigned sigh, she pushed herself up, the warmth of the fire lingering against her skin as she stepped away from the group.

By the time she reached the top, she paused, catching her breath, turning toward the horizon.

The sea stretched out endlessly, dark and gleaming, with a sliver of gold and baby blue still clinging to the edge of the sky where the sun had disappeared.

I could get used to this.

Even if she had to endure him.

Shaking the thought away, she slipped through the villa doors, heading straight for the kitchen. It was dimly lit, the quiet hum of the night settling around her. She barely made it three steps before a voice cut through the silence.

“Thirsty?”

She jumped, nearly knocking over a glass. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she spun around, eyes landing on Aemond. He stood near the counter, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable, except for the faintest trace of a smirk. But it wasn’t just the way he looked at her that made her pulse jump. It was how he looked.

His silver hair was damp, strands curling slightly at the ends, still clinging to the warmth of a recent shower. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, just a pair of low-hanging black shorts, his skin catching the dim glow of the kitchen lights, casting shadows over the sharp lines of his stomach, the cut of his collarbone.

She swallowed, gripping the vodka bottle a little tighter than necessary.

He was insufferable.

He was annoying.

And yet–

“Didn’t take you for the helpful type,” she muttered, turning back to the cabinet, refusing to look at him for too long.

A quiet chuckle left his lips, “I wasn’t waiting for you, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Her jaw tightened. “Didn’t say you were. Just stop lurking around waiting to frighten me, would you.”

Aemond leaned against the counter, watching her with that same unreadable expression. She didn’t know what he was looking for, what he was waiting for, but it was irritating. She set the vodka bottle down on the counter with a dull thud, crossing her arms as she turned to face him fully. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get from this.”

“From what?”

“This,” she gestured vaguely, “you know exactly what. You’re acting like we never fell out. But we did, Aemond. You should hate my guts.”

Aemond resisted the urge to outright laugh. The truth was, they had never fallen out. Not in his mind. Oh, they had argued. Gods, had they argued. She had called him pretentious, insufferable, a controlling asshole. He had thrown words back just as easily, his own cutting remarks meant to frustrate her, rile her up, get her to fight him harder. 

He liked that she didn’t hold back, that she met him blow for blow, insult for insult. Still does.

Aemond exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, “you’re still talking to me.”

She scoffed. “Like I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

Something in her chest twisted at that, but she refused to let it show. She rolled her eyes, reaching for the vodka bottle and tucking it under her arm. “Whatever game you’re playing, Aemond, find someone else to play it with.”

She left the kitchen without another word, gripping the vodka bottle tighter than necessary as she made her way back down the endless stone steps to the beach. The sea breeze hit her as soon as she reached the bottom, cool and briny, doing little to chase away the strange heat in her chest.

You always have a choice.

She scowled, shoving the thought aside as she rejoined the group, dropping the bottle into Baela’s waiting hands. “There,” she muttered, sinking back onto the blanket, pulling her shawl tighter around herself. “Now stop making me do all the work.”

Baela grinned, already unscrewing the cap. “You’re a hero.”

The fire burned low, casting a warm glow against their sun-kissed faces, flickering against the edges of the waves. She barely noticed Aemond’s arrival until he was lowering himself onto the sand a few feet away, silent, as always, but technically, next to her.

Unlike earlier, he had thrown on a loose button-down, the top few buttons left undone, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and collarbone. His silver hair was still damp, stray strands falling over his sharp features. He looked completely at ease, like he belonged in the firelight, the shadows playing over the angles of his face.

Stop that.

Baela poured out shots, handing them around. “To questionable decisions and even worse hangovers.”

Jace groaned. “We are so fucked tomorrow.”

The alcohol burned, but she welcomed it, letting the warmth spread through her veins, dulling the tension in her shoulders. One shot became two. Then three.

And then, somewhere between Aegon trying to wrestle Jace into the sand and Rhaena doing drunken cartwheels again, the conversation took a sharp turn.

“Oh, I know what we should talk about,” Aegon declared suddenly, tossing an empty bottle into the sand.

Baela groaned. “If you say kinks, I swear to the gods—”

“Kinks.”

Jace put his face in his hands. “Fucking hell.”

Aegon smirked, completely unrepentant. “Come on. We’ve been drinking. There are no rules. Let’s make this interesting.”

Rhaena laughed, shaking her head. “This is already a terrible idea.”

Baela smirked. “Fine. But you go first, since you brought it up.”

Aegon leaned back on his hands, completely unbothered. “Easy. Hair pulling, spanking, and—”

“Enough.” Jace groaned. Helaena fake gagged, shaking her head.

One by one, everyone went around, rattling off their preferences with varying degrees of amusement or reluctance.

And then it was her turn.

She hesitated. “Pass.”

Baela raised a brow. “No passes.”

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders, acting unfazed. “It’s not even that interesting.”

“Then it should be easy to say,” Baela countered, smirking.

She took a sip of her drink, then, with a casual shrug, said, “Choking.”

It wouldn’t have gotten such a reaction if it were anyone else, but Aemond, fucking chuckled. She turned her head sharply, only to find him watching her, smirking slightly, his gaze dark with something unreadable.

“What?” she snapped, her voice sharper than intended.

“Nothing,” he grinned behind the bottle he was nursing.

“No, go on, what’s so funny?”

Aemond tilted his head, studying her, his smirk growing the slightest bit sharper. “I just don’t think you’d let someone get their hands on you like that,” he murmured.

Her pulse spiked.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the heat of the fire, maybe it was just him, but she felt it, the way the air shifted, the way the space between them suddenly felt far too small. Luckily, the others swiftly got bored of their verbal sparring. A small relief. But it made her feel at least like everyone wasn’t zeroed in on what they were talking about.

She scoffed, leaning back and burying her palms in the sand, “and you’re an expert.”

“I don’t think you’d let someone do it properly.”

Despite the crackle of…something, in the air. The alcohol had not only made her wavy, but braver. And she met his gaze with her chin up, “and you think you could?”

Aemond exhaled a quiet laugh, setting his drink down beside him. 

“I don’t think. I know.”

Her lips parted, something thrumming hot under her skin, crawling up her spine. She pushed it away quickly, her eyes lazy and challenging, “yeah right, as if–”

Her lips snapped shut when she felt it, unhurried, his hand curling around her neck. Not tight. Not rough. Just enough to feel it. Just enough to make her breath catch. Her entire body went rigid, heat pooling at the base of her spine, her pulse hammering against the cage of her ribs.

His fingers rested lightly over her throat, long and steady, the faintest pressure applied in a way that was taunting. Testing. Aemond watched her reaction carefully, his gaze dark and focused, thumb resting just below her jaw, brushing over the sensitive skin, feeling the thrum of her heart at her pulse point. She swallowed, and he felt it.

His lips curled slightly. "See?" His voice was low, smug, dangerous. "That's how you'd want it."

Her breath was shallow, a sharp contrast to the cool sea air around them. She willed herself to react, to do something, anything,  but her body wasn’t cooperating.

Aegon groaned loudly, “gods, just fuck already.”

The spell snapped.

Aemond pulled away, slow and deliberate, and she ripped her gaze from him, shaking herself back to reality. "Shut up, Aegon," she muttered, rolling her eyes, though her voice was noticeably weaker.

She glanced around, seeing that most were preoccupied. Thank the gods for vodka. But even as the conversation shifted, as Aegon moved on to some other stupid drunken tangent, her body still felt the ghost of Aemond's touch. Still burned with it.

She stole a glance at him beneath her lashes.

He was still watching her.

By the time they all stumbled back to the villa, buzzed from the alcohol, sunburnt from the day, and far too aware of the tension still crackling between her and Aemond, she knew she was in trouble.

Everyone was dispersing into their rooms, peeling off damp clothes and sand-covered swimsuits, muttering about showers and food. And her shower was swift and much needed, though the lukewarm water stung slightly at the red patch on her shoulder blades. She threw on a long shirt to sleep in to keep the sensitive skin off the sheets.

A soft knock though, froze her. In her gut, she already knew it was him. But it wasn’t gratifying in the least when she opened the door and confirmed she was correct. He leaned against the doorframe, as if he had all the time in the world, still wearing the loose linen button down shirt and shorts, though it was only now she noticed the chain sat at his throat.

She sighed, exasperated, but with a dull, needing ache she didn’t want to admit, “what do you want, Aemond.”

Aemond exhaled a quiet laugh. Then, without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside, kicking the door closed. She stepped back automatically, breath hitching.

“Tell me to leave,” he murmured, his voice dark and even, like he already knew she wouldn’t.

The words balanced on her lips. But the heat between them was too thick, too heavy, and the ghost of his touch still lingered against her throat.

So she didn’t.

And the second she didn’t tell him to fuck off, she knew she was losing a game before it even started. Aemond crowded her as she backed up, almost casually, but there was nothing at all casual about the way he was looking at her. The way he was closing this distance as if he could predict how it would end. There was intent in every movement.

She echoed herself, “what do you want, Aemond.”

His smirk was expected but still made her stomach flip all the same, “I think we both know the answer to that.”

The air thickened, wrapping around her like smoke, suffocating. She should stop this. She should push him away. She should. But she didn’t. Instead, she stayed perfectly still as Aemond reached for her, tilting her chin up with two fingers.

"Say it," he murmured, and her eyes flickered to his mouth as he uttered the words.

She swallowed, throat dry. “Say what?”

His thumb dragged along her jawline, slow, teasing. "That you want me to touch you."

Her lips parted, a breath escaping. Humiliation and arousal tangled together, tightening in her chest, her stomach, lower.

She hated him. She wanted him.

And that was exactly why she finally whispered.

"Touch me."

His smirk disappeared, the fight leaving him. And then he did.

His lips crashed against hers, swallowing her gasp as his grip tightened around her jaw, backing her against the door. The force of it made her lips part, and Aemond wasted no time in taking advantage of it. He kissed her like he was claiming something, like he’d been waiting for this, waiting for her to give in. His tongue brushed against hers, demanding, teasing, and the moment she kissed him back with the same hunger, his hand wrapped around her throat. 

Not hard enough to cut off air, just enough to remind her that it was there.

A soft, desperate sound escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Aemond smirked against her mouth, pulling back just enough to murmur, "So you do like it."

She glared at him, breathless, dizzy with want. "Shut up."

His fingers tightened, just slightly. Her pulse jumped and she tugged him back to her by his shirt, back to her lips, Aemond groaned, deep and low, before pulling back and flipping her around, her front pressed against the door, his chest flush against her back. Even like this, she could feel him strained against her backside, and it only made her want to push her hips, see how far she could push him too.

His hand slipped up her shirt, on the bare skin of her stomach, and she froze and melted at the same time. She felt him exhale against her neck at the touch, before sliding the tips of his fingers against the waistband of her underwear. 

"Tell me you want it," he murmured against her ear.

Her breath came out shaky and she hated it, “Aemond—”

His fingers slipped lower, teasing, hovering exactly where she needed him. "Tell me," he repeated, dangerously patient.

She clenched her jaw, her body already thrumming. “I want it.”

Aemond’s chuckle was dark and satisfied. "Good girl."

His hand slipped beneath, past the barrier of her underwear, and the moment his fingers met her slick heat, his breath caught. Her lips parted, choking on air it seemed, her eyes slipping shut as he took his time.

"Fuck," he rasped, voice rough, "so fucking wet."

She bit her lip hard to stop herself from making a sound, but then he pressed his fingers against her clit, slow and deliberate, and she shuddered.

“Don’t be shy now,” Aemond murmured, lips grazing her neck, his other hand coming to her jaw to tilt her face towards him.

She nearly whimpered when he circled his fingers against her, slow, teasing, in complete control. The pressure was just enough to drive her insane, but not enough to push her over the edge. And then he did something dangerous. His hand tightened around her throat at the exact moment he slipped a finger inside her.

Her knees buckled.

"Aemond—"

Her body met him with infuriatingly little resistance, and Aemond seemed to revel in the warmth of her, how tight she seemed around one digit alone. And she just knew he was thinking about something else. How she might feel around him.

He groaned, pulling back just enough to look at her, his eye dark, jaw tight, lips parted like he was barely holding himself together. “You’re fucking perfect," he muttered.

Then, without warning, he added a second finger. She gasped, pressing back against him, his name slipping past her lips in a breathless, wrecked moan.

Aemond grinned, pressing his lips to her shoulder, her neck. "That’s it," he murmured. “Take it.”

Pressed between the door and Aemond was an unfortunate predicament. Unable to move, she could only stand there and take it, his long, deft fingers pressing up into her forcefully and crooking forwards, searching for her sweet spot with an almost obsessive attitude. But equally, so close to the door, to the hallway outside, she had no choice but to press her lips together and be quiet, despite his wish for her not to be.

He wanted people to hear.

She felt the slow, forceful grind of his fingers deep inside her, not thrusting in and out, but pressing, pushing, curling, rubbing against that spot that made her body tremble, made her breath hitch. Aemond moved his fingers in deep, slow circles, stretching her from the inside, coaxing out pleasure with cruel precision. Every shift of his hand sent shockwaves up her spine, her walls gripping around him tight, desperate, needy.

His thumb dragged against her clit, matching the pressure of his fingers inside her, not flicking or teasing, pressing down firmly, rubbing slow, torturous circles.

"Fuck—" the word tore from her throat, raw and uncontrolled, her hips jerking forward into his touch. And at the friction against his aching arousal, he almost whined.

But Aemond hummed, pleased. “Good girl.”

His voice sent heat licking down her spine, pooling low in her stomach. Her head fell back, her body tightening, burning, spiralling toward something devastatingly sharp.

"Aemond—" her voice was wrecked, breathless. He groaned, like hearing her like this did something to him, like it unravelled him, too.

His hand at her throat tightened slightly, tilting her head back as his lips grazed her jaw. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”

She could only nod, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel. The pleasure coiled tighter, deeper, spreading outward, her thighs trembling around his hand. Her body snapped, shattering apart as waves of pleasure crashed over her, raw and consuming, making her shake in his grasp.

Aemond groaned at the feel of it, his fingers working her through it, slow and deliberate as her walls fluttered around him, her body pulsing, clenching, trembling.

She barely had a second to catch her breath before he was moving. Grabbing her like a sack of potatoes and throwing her on the bed, wrenching her underwear down her legs, and forcefully flipping her over onto her stomach.

And then.

A sharp crack of heat across her backside.

Aemond must have felt her jolt, must have noticed the way her breath hitched, the way her thighs instinctively squeezed together. “Don’t be so surprised,” he mused, positioning her exactly how he wanted. 

He leaned down, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear, his voice dark with satisfaction.

“Girls who are into choking are into much more than that.”

Her stomach twisted, her breath catching both at his words and his manhandling. She glanced back, catching his hands as they worked his shorts open to free himself, rendering her mouth suddenly dry. It was all so quick, she barely got a good look at him. He tugged her hips up slightly, the fat head of his cock parting her sensitive folds and began to push inside, and then she forgot how to think entirely. A wrecked sound escaped her throat, muffled by the sheets, her body already soaked, stretched, ready for him after his ruthless teasing.

He filled her completely, every inch stretching her open, the burn of it making her eyes squeeze shut. Aemond groaned, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

“Fuck, still so tight,” he rasped, pulling back before slamming into her again, rough and unforgiving. The force of it sent her forward onto her elbows, her breath punched from her lungs. Starting out in this position, she felt every bit, the way his cock bent inside her, as if sculpting her to the shape of him.

It was filthy. Brutal. Perfect.

His fingers dug into her flesh, his pace relentless, punishing, as if he wanted to ruin her for anyone else. She let out a desperate, breathy moan, her body giving in, taking everything he gave her, arching back into him. And when she did, Aemond let out a low groan, sliding a hand up her back, over every notch of her smooth spine, trailing along the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling into her hair and tugging.

A ragged gasp tore from her throat, her scalp burning in the most intoxicating way. She clenched around him, and he felt it. His grip tightened, pulling her head back just enough to make her spine arch beautifully, her mouth parting in a silent moan.

Aemond groaned at the way her body reacted to him, the way she clenched around his cock like she was trying to keep him buried inside her forever.

“Oh, you really do like that, don’t you?” his voice was low, rough, laced with something dark and possessive, her hair wrapped around his long fingers.

She barely managed to choke out a sound, something between a gasp and a whimper, but it only spurred him on. His grip in her hair didn’t falter as he snapped his hips forward, fucking into her harder, deeper, rough enough to make the headboard slam against the wall. She shook beneath him, unable to do anything but take it, absorb every brutal thrust, every sharp pull of her hair that sent electricity racing down her spine.

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” he murmured, his pace never slowing, his thrusts hitting deep, over and over, dragging her closer to that edge.

She could only nod, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets, at nothing.

She whined as he released her hair, his arm sliding around her waist to pull her up to him, dragging her up onto her knees with her back flush against his chest. Her head lolled back against his shoulder as his hand slid over her stomach, pushing her back onto him with every deep, punishing thrust. 

“Aemond,” she gasped, barely able to form words, her voice breaking.

He groaned at the sound, at the way she tightened around him, pushing his hand lower, rubbing slow, firm circles over her clit.

And that was it.

Her body snapped, pleasure crashing over her in violent, uncontrollable waves, her moans raw and shattered as she came around him, clenching so tight it nearly sent him over the edge too.

“Fuck,” Aemond gritted out, his thrusts turning desperate, chasing his own high as her body milked him.

He buried himself deep, his jaw tight, breath ragged, before he finally let go, groaning her name as he came, spilling inside her, holding her still as he filled her completely.

For a long moment, the room was silent, nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing, the crackling of the sea breeze through the open window. Aemond’s grip eased, his hands sliding down to her waist as he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his breath still unsteady.

Slowly, he pulled back, completely out of her, his hands sliding down her hips, making her shiver at the loss of him. He pressed a quick, lingering kiss to her shoulder before pushing himself up, reaching for his lowered shorts and pulling them back over his hips.

She lay there on her stomach, face pressed into the pillows, trying to process what the fuck had just happened.

And more than that , what it meant.

But before she could let her thoughts spiral, Aemond flopped onto the bed beside her, stretching his long limbs out, one arm tucked beneath his head.

It was almost too casual, too normal, like they hadn’t just spent the last hour fucking each other senseless. She turned her head, staring at him, trying to read the subtle curve of his lips, the way his gaze flickered to her like he was waiting for her reaction.

Finally, she spoke, voice hoarse from overuse.

“So…what now?”

Aemond let out a low chuckle, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “That depends. Are you going to keep pretending you hate me?”

“You should be the one pretending to hate me. I was convinced you despised me.”

“Hate you?” He glanced at her, sharp, amused. “I never hated you.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You, though? You’ve been trying very hard to convince yourself that you do.”

Her stomach flipped, and she groaned, grabbing a pillow and smacking his arm with it. “You’re a dick.”

Aemond caught her wrist easily, his grip firm but playful, tugging her just enough to pull her closer. “Careful,” he murmured smugly, “you might make me think you actually like me.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no real fight behind it.

Lying back down, she stretched, her body already sore, knowing she was going to get it in the neck from the others tomorrow.

“Oh gods, they’re going to be unbearable about this,” she muttered.

Aemond just grinned, clearly unbothered. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He gave a lazy shrug, running a hand through his messy silver hair. “A little.”

For a second, Aemond propped up, fishing something out his pocket. 

“What are you–”

Her voice died on her lips the second she saw what laid in his palm. The sun shaped, gold pendant she had seen at Sunspear Market earlier that day stared back. The dark gold glinted against her eyes, and she tentatively reached out to touch it.

“You—”

Aemond shrugged. But she could see he was trying to play it a little cool, to stay off the embarrassed flush to his cheeks at such a sweet gesture, “I saw you looking at it.”

She hesitated, but she was more shocked. She hadn't honestly expected something so nice, especially from him, as hard to read as he was. Such as right now. He was so composed. As if he hadn't had it in his pocket all day, waiting to give it to her.

“You bought this for me?...”

A silly question in hindsight, but she was too floored to ask anything else. And she didn't even need his reply truthfully.

Still, Aemond smirked, propping up to watch as she ran her finger over the metal, “I did, but…”

She looked up, her heart constricting, “but?...”

Aemond bit back a nervous smile, “you can wear it…if we give this a chance,” he says, vaguely gesturing between them.

Her breath caught. Not because it was unexpected, he had been pushing her in this direction all night, all trip, maybe even longer than that. But hearing him say it so simply, so confidently, so Aemond, sent something warm and unsteady rippling through her chest.

She glanced away for a second, fingers brushing the pendant absentmindedly, before letting out a slow breath. “And what exactly is… ‘this’?” she asked, her voice softer than before.

Aemond tilted his head, “this,” he murmured, “is me saying I don’t want to pretend I don’t want you anymore.”

Gods, he was good with words when he wanted to be.

Her lips parted slightly, but before she could say anything, his expression shifted, turning just a little sharper, a little more amused.

“And also, I’m realising one of my kinks might be you calling me a pretentious asshole.”

Before she could stop herself, she burst out laughing. It was unexpected, light, breaking the thick tension in the air.

“Maybe you are a pretentious asshole,” she managed between giggles.

Aemond hummed, leaning closer to brush his lips against hers, “hm, you keep up, don't you.”

She couldn't stop smiling, her cheeks hurt. And Aemond's fingers brushed her skin, reaching for the chain of the necklace, “let me.”

Lifting her hair, she raised her chin so he could clasp the pendant around her neck, the gold sitting elegantly against her chest. He hummed in appreciation and she swallowed, a shiver running down her spine at the barely-there touch.

“Shall we celebrate.”

She raised a suspicious brow. Celebrate.

A bark of laughter threatened to break out.

“Celebrate how, exactly?”

The dark looks returned to his gaze, and she gasped as he maneuvered atop her, his hand bunching up her shirt around her hips. “With you, wearing nothing but that pretty little necklace I just bought you.”

Her stomach tightened. And her body responded before she did.

And judging by the smug look on Aemond's face. He noticed.

She woke up sore, in the best way possible.

The sheets were tangled around her legs, her body still buzzing from the night before, and when she shifted slightly, the cool press of gold against her skin reminded her of exactly how they’d celebrated.

Aemond had already left the bed when she woke up, thank the gods, which meant she had enough time to collect herself before inevitably facing the others.

Black bikini, sandals slipped on and she was out straight away, her hair still tousled from how rough Aemond had been with her the night before.

Helaena, Baela, and Rhaena sat sprawled out on their towels, sunglasses perched on their noses, drinks in hand. They looked far too entertained. And they knew. Oh, they fucking knew.

“So…” Baela drawled, adjusting her sunglasses as she turned toward her. “You had an eventful night.”

She rolled her eyes, dropping onto the sand beside them, already regretting coming down here. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rhaena scoffed, hiding a smirk behind her drink. “Oh, come on.”

Helaena, as dreamy as ever, blinked up at her, tilting her head. “You’re glowing.”

Baela snorted, finally pushing her sunglasses onto her head so she could look at her properly. And then, her gaze zeroed in. She grinned. “Oh my gods, you’re wearing it.”

Her stomach dropped. Shit.

Baela pointed at the gold sun pendant resting delicately against her collarbone, shining in the morning light. “So, Aemond buys you jewellery now?”

She groaned, tipping her head back against the sand. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

Rhaena smirked, twirling her straw between her fingers. “Not a chance.”

Helaena giggled, “I knew you didn’t hate each other.”

“Oh, I still hate him.”

Baela barked out a laugh, “so that was a hate fuck, was it?”

Rhaena snorted into her drink, nearly choking on it.

As if completely uninterested, Helaena excused herself, grabbing an empty tupperware as a beetle flew into the reeds by the stairs. Classic Hel.

Rhaena cleared her throat, “so…was it good?”

“I'm not talking about this.”

“Oh, so it was good,” Rhaena mused, eyes twinkling.

“I hate all of you.”

Baela leaned in. “You know what they say. The quiet ones are always the worst.”

Rhaena thoughtfully. “I bet he was really intense about it.”

“Oh, definitely. Control freak. Probably took his time—”

She groaned, “oh my gods, can we please change the subject?”

Helaena returned, beaming, a freshly caught beetle in her tub, “well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm happy for you.”

She peeked up at her through one squinted eye. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be happy about your brother getting laid.”

Helaena simply shrugged, smiling. “You make him less grumpy.”

Her only saving grace was that the guys were too far out in the water to hear any of this. Jace and Aegon were already trying to drown each other, waves crashing around them as they wrestled.

But Aemond stood farther out, water lapping at his waist, arms crossed, watching the spectacle with mild amusement.

She had no doubt Aemond suffered the same treatment this morning. Hounded with questions and easy ribbings. But unlike her, Aemond could silence any incessant question with a pointed glare and a well placed ‘fuck off’. 

As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned, his hair sticking to his face. She watched his gaze drift to the necklace that sat snug at her collarbone, and then back up to her eyes, the faintest smirk on his face.

Maybe the rest of this holiday wouldn't be so bad.

✨ Please note ✨ I no longer do taglists. If you would updates, please follow @targaryenrealnessdarlingfics and turn on notifications!

[knight-of-flowerss]

Nerd!Cregan brothers best friend type situation like Jace’s twin sister and obviously even in the au she’s the princess-esque type, rich family, cregan and jace she thinks are losers but like her and cregan actually make such a sweet couple like ugh him rambling about a game and she’s like babe i really dont give a fuck or understand but i love you so im listening (but really she’s just drooling over his bicep as he waves it around explaining some anime shit)

NERDS HAVE THE BIGGEST DICKS OKAY???

HEHEHEH YESSSS I LOVE NERDS OH MY GOD 😭🙏

Sorry but she's deffo his childhood bully💀 "dad, how did you meet mom?" "Oh, she would cut my hair and chase me and your uncle around with a knife when we were little.. hm.. good days.." and kids are like wtf- 😀🧍‍♀️

This is lowkey a brain dump of Nerd/Geek!Cregan, would love to write a more story like one but I just HAD to do a brain dump lmao

Also I have three different geeky things mentioned in here, 1 is Demon Slayer, 2 is Star Wars and 3 is a poem and if y'all can tell me what poem, I'll give you a lollipop or something or like a fic idk girl

MDNI 18+!!!

MASTERLIST

"So- Tanjiro and Nezuko are siblings, yeah? Their whole family gets killed by a demon and Nezuko gets turned into one! And there's these people- they're called demon slayers - they kill these demons and like protect everyone and-" At this point, you had zoned out. He was just sat there rambling on about Demon killer or Slayer demon or whatever the fuck it is.

Your loud smacks are heard through his yapping, the chewing gum becoming a weird, warm, melted texture in your mouth since it'd been there for so long.

Cregan was hot. So fucking hot. But goddamn, sometimes you had to tune him out.

Like, even during sex you have to shut him up.

You're actually surprised he isn't more quiet during sex. He's fucking his best friends little sister and all he can do is whine and moan. I mean, I think he got it from you though.

The first time you fucked him, it was his finals week. Non-stop revision for the overwhelmed nerd. Physics or chemistry or whatever confusing science shit he did - it had a specific name - fell on deaf ears.

You had asked him about it, to put his mind off of cumming too fast. Virgin. So he rambled on and on about endless science-y things, even getting so engrossed to the point that he had kind of forgotten that he had one of the hottest chicks in school bouncing on his cock like her life depended on it.

But his whines and moans were the best, literally music to your fucking ears. This was never supposed to happen. Never. He was this whiney little bitch boy that she's known since all three of them were in nappies.

You were there when he wet himself at Jenny D'Minco's sixth birthday party and everyone laughed at him, you included. You were there when he cried over the fact that you crumpled his favourite Pokémon card when he was eight. You were there when he busted his nose trying to impress a girl at the roller rink when she was sixteen and he was barely twelve.

You were even there the first time he came in his pants. 15 years old, surrounded by hot, older girls in bikinis at a pool party and one rubbed up on him? Yeah, he was a gonner before he even registered it.

Watching him grow up, seeing all the awkward shit that made him a 'nerd' and a 'geek', etc, should've given you the ick, it really should've. Especially since he was three years younger that you, but you're a nasty bitch deep down inside.

You lied to yourself. Telling yourself you didn't like him. That he was weird and an incel. But god, you'd be lying if you said that watching him jerk off in the bathroom sink when he thinks he's all alone in the house didn't turn you on to the fucking max.

But he had joined University. Left everyone behind. And so did your younger brother. He left a scrawny, whiney bitch that you wanted to jump the bones of but held yourself back, and came back a fucking man that could probably do curls with your full weight and not even break a sweat.

Safe to say, your panties didn't survive that one.

He had grown more confident over those few years too, truly finding himself at Uni. As if he wasn't himself already. But he just felt more comfortable in his own skin.

And back to where we began. Anime. Fucking anime. This man rambles about anime when he should be choking you out with his bicep as he fucks you from behind. But noooo, you're fuck buddies with the bloody BFG who refuses to hurt you.

After what seems like hours to you - it was really just three hours, I mean, how inconsiderate y'all, it ain't even that long 🙄 - he finally paid attention to you.

"And Anakin gets sent to protect Padmè in Naboo, which is obviously where they finally admit they love each other, until Padmè like- rejects him! To keep each other safe, but still!-" Your spit drools down his arm as his fingers delve into your warmth. It doesn't even seem to phase him, the fact that he's finger fucking you blind.

He has some YouTube video on in the background, showing the timeline of Anakin and Padmè and their love story, a Jedi and a former Queen turned Senator- God! You're actually learning some of this bullshit!

A high pitched moan escapes you before you can help it as his fingers find that one spot that makes your legs turn into jelly and your eyes roll back into your head.

And this fucker doesn't bat an eye.

"I think the way they had Padmè's funeral is so interesting- I mean, they literally posed her to still look pregnant, no one knew Luke and Leia were even born! They literally protected them from Anakin- Vader, since birth!" He gushes, grinning at the fact. He didn't find the fact that she was dead enjoyable or anything, he just appreciated the time and effort put into the fifth and sixth episode, the extra details making it so much better.

Cregan's gaze finally flicks down to you and his smile goes from wide and endearing to soft and affectionate. "Gods.. you look so beautiful right now sweet'eart.." Yep. That did it. Him looking into your eyes as he calls you "sweetheart" in that thick accent of his? Oh, you were a gonner before you even realised it.

With a loud whine, your thighs clamp around his arm, trembling slightly as you utter a soft "fuck.." under your breath. And then the part you love the most, his fucking whimpering.

No matter what you do together, no matter how loud or quiet you are, Cregan always has a reaction when you cum. Always. Whimpering and whining as his lip catches between his front teeth and his eyebrows furrow.

Also, don't get me STARTED on when you haven't seen him in a while and you're finally alone. Literally bones = jumped.

He weeps softly, tearing streaming down his face as his hips buck up, whimpers slipping from his lips involuntarily as you suck him off. Well, he always cried when you do. Probably one of the hottest things he does.

You're evil too, you don't even let him cum. Just leaving him high and dry until he finally musters up the courage to treat you how you oh so desire.

I mean, dominant Cregan groaning and moaning in your ear as he pounds into your cunt is fucking amazing and all but, riding him is just so much better.

His thick girth filled you up perfectly, each ridge catching on your gummy walls. "A-and.. the Duke kills the Duchess- well.. fuck- ah!.. He gets jealous and- shit!"

He gets so loud that you have to clamp your hand over his mouth, gripping his cheeks firmly as you ground your hips, teasing him just enough.

You love your geeky fuck buddy- I mean like! You like him.. but he's hotter when he can't shut up, drunk on your pussy.

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @cryinonthefloor553 @visenyablackwood @velaryyon

[dayque]

Alec: Okay, the kids' snack is in the refrigerator, their schedules are written here, they can watch TV but don't leave them unattended for too long and for no, but NO, reason do you let them take a nap. If they sleep their sleep cycle will be a disaster later.

Jace: Bro, relax, everything's going to be okay.

*Magnus in the other room*

Magnus: Okay. Let's go over it.

Rafael: Lunch at 1, snack at 3:30 and dinner when you return. Not eating anything Uncle Jace cooks, not leaving the house to hunt demons even if he says it's safe, and we can't play jumping on the furniture or walls either. We can't do dangerous spells that involve...

Max: I know! I know!

Rafael: But I'm saying it!

Magnus: Let him say one part, go ahead Blueberry.

Max: I can't do spells that involve: fire, breaking things even if they are small, summoning animals that do tsss, or psss, or ksss *putting hands in the shape of little claws*, levitating or summoning demons.

Rafael: We also can't listen to Uncle Jace if he has a new idea about a spell we've never done before.

Magnus: Very good! I am so proud of my little sweets, and what do we do if there is an emergency and daddy or Bapa can't come help?

Both: Call Aunty Catarina and Aunty Clary to save Uncle Jace.

[bananacakepie]

For every woman in Valentine’s Circle that had kids/a kid, Valentine took one of their sons. Almost immediately after his birth, he stole Jace from his mother and a little latter he stole his own son from Joyce. He ended up raising both of them, while poisoning their minds to see themselves as weapons and to believe love was bad. You might think that this isn’t true, because Maryse and Robert Lightwood were in the Circle, and Valentine never took Alec. You’re right. Alec was spared because another son - his little brother - was taken in his place. And even though Jonathan was the one to kill him, the battle plans for the Mortal War were planned by Valentine, and Jonathan was Valentine’s weapon at this point.

Jocelyn Morgenstern, Celine Herondale and Maryse Lightwood were all members of the Circle. Jonathan Morgenstern, Jace Herondale and Max Lightwood were all taken from their mothers because of Valentine.

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday!! I hope you and the whole Household are doing amazing this week :) Would it be possible to request some more of your alpha/alpha Malec verse? I adore that Alec is such an alpha-alpha (if that makes sense) to literally everyone and then Magnus comes along and Alec is immediately on his knees, neck bared like 'collar me please I am yours and only yours.' I'd love to see the reaction of other people who, might I add, in no way doubt that Alec is terrifyingly competent, to Alec waltzing into the Institute with a collar that he's absolutely preening over. <3 No preferences at all on rating.

oh wow today has been a day with unexpected things but that's not really a surprise at this point ^_^ but we're all home safe and the puppy is a shiny little baby who wriggles around squeaking his toys and won't go potty outside by himself at night even though he's pushing eighty pounds at this point.

Uhm, extremely violent descriptions in fic? short but sweet death? last part of fic.

i hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

to be or knot to be

A frown is already on Alec’s face when he walks into the Institute and finds Jace giving orders.

Jace doesn’t have the authority to command any shadowhunters, unless already on the field and that’s borrowed permission.  He certainly doesn’t have the training or the power to be trying to command an entire floor.

“Stand down.” Alec’s voice cuts through the chatter and movement and Jace’s anger spikes but Alec ignores it. “Everyone back to your regular routine. Jace, get down here.”

Jace looks about ready to argue but then his eyes find Alec’s neck and he visibly flinches, face pale and uncertain because Alec has a claim to him.

Alec belongs to someone else now, his protection is offered and held by another and now, it’s on Jace to be the protector of their family. It's now Jace's honor to take care of Izzy and Max and himself the way Alec has done for years.

Alec smirks, because Jace isn’t prepared for that, not with the way he’s wasting resources on Clary and also jeopardizing the secrecy of the mission.

A mission involving a holy relic and cultural artifact.

“Are you insane, Alec?” Jace hisses when he gets closer, but it’s not quiet enough and several hunters look over, attention caught by the disrespect. “You let someone collar you?”

That’s not something you bring up like this, not in public but Alec’s prepared for it.  Jace is volatile and has been since childhood, it’s easy enough to guess how he’ll respond.  Especially when letting himself panic over Fray.

Alec has Jace facedown, adamas tipped arrowhead pressed to where spine meets neck before he can question Alec again. As talented as Jace is in the field, he never expected a sneak attack and also tends to try to intimidate rather than just take down.

“Yes, I did.  Obviously.  If not, then I would be dead or the person who tried it would be dead and I wouldn’t be collared.” The room shudders at the certainty of his threat, “and what business is it of yours? Do I ask you about who you fuck and what goes on in your bed? What right do you have to speak of my relationships when you were about to waste Institute resources on someone just because you like the way a new omega smells?”

Alec very much does not think about Jace or Izzy’s sex lives. He prefers to think about his siblings' mating habits as little as possible.

Fray runs into the room at that moment, proud and flushed and disheveled and then promptly in shock that Jace is on the floor.

Alec wants this done publicly and he lets Jace up with a whisper of warning that makes Jace scowl but duck his head with a nod of understanding.  He’ll contain himself for now, but Alec isn’t sure how long it will last.  

Especially once Alec’s done with Fray.

“The cup.” Alec says, holding out his hand and she hesitates. 

That much is clear and no shadowhunter in Alec’s institute thinks he’s asking for something like a regular cup, they understand the weight of his words and bristle, as if preparing for a fight.

“But my mother—”

“We will use our resources the best we can and request additional aid from the Clave.  However the Cup has always belonged to the Clave. It is not a bartering chip and it is not worth your mother’s life.”  Fray seems relieved, she shouldn’t be.  “It’s worth far more.  We’ll be sending fire messages requesting transport as soon as it’s sealed. This is how you get aid, Fray. You can’t just demand it and expect it.  There has to be reciprocation, especially since both of your parents are known terrorists. There’s no evidence that your mother ever changed her mind from her original views or goals and even with your memories, you don’t know anything either.”

Fray hisses, looking like she wants to scratch out his eyes and protest, but Alec isn’t wrong and even the Clave classify them as such, even if only because of the Circle’s attacks on other nephilim.

“The cup, Fray.”

It’s given over sullenly, with a bitter scent to Fray as she hands it over and Alec points out the necklace as well, ignoring her rising anger or Jace pumping out protective and soothing and angry pheromones as well.

Alec secures them in the central safe with plenty of witnesses and cameras and then sends a fire message to three Clave officials  and an Elder that he knows personally from training in Idris.

No one else has commented on the leather and metal entangled around his neck.  

They’re all aware.

The weight of eyes on his neck have been heavy and perhaps Alec might have crumpled under them once but it’s Magnus’ claim on his neck.

It’s Magnus who imbued the collar with magic and locked and sealed it with his blood and Alec has no intention of disrespecting something that means so much to him.  

Or letting anyone else do so either.

—-

Magnus fingers twitch and he barely manages to hold back the fire that begs to spring to life.

Alexander has barely been gone an hour and already Magnus feels the itch of protective violence building in his belly, reinforcing the wariness that he holds about letting anything or anyone he cares about near the Institute. 

The phone rings and Magnus answers it tersely and without looking and then untenses as a beautiful chuckle sounds across the phone.

“I’m safe, the cup is secure and I’ve sent messages to Idris.  Regardless of whether or not I’m accepted, they can’t blame me for anything that happens from now on.”

Magnus still feels on edge, his new mate far from his reach and even under the wards of his own magic, he’s too vulnerable.

“And I suppose you have piles upon piles of paperwork.” Magnus tries to be lighthearted, attempts to infuse his voice with amusement rather than longing but he’s not sure it works as silence pauses between them.

“No, just the one.  For mating leave.”

Magnus perks up despite his best reservations. 

“Oh?” 

“Even if you have the self-control to stay your hand for weeks, I don’t.” Alexander admits it readily and easily, “I can barely handle the looks without wishing I could see your hands drenched in their blood.”

Magnus wants that with a pang of yearning and he has to settle himself, because Alexander is right.  Magnus is more than capable of holding himself back, but the longer Alexander speaks the less Magnus wants to.

“So then, you’ll finish your paperwork for leave and come to me?”

“I’ll pack first,” Alexander says, voice turning distracted and Magnus’ emotions uncoil at the knowledge Alexander intends to settle and stay with him. “Then I’ll come, it shouldn’t take too long.”

Magnus inhales the scent of Alexander that lingers in his loft and inhales deeply, letting it wallow in his lung.

“Then I’ll be waiting, darling. Don’t take too long.”

—

Alec really doesn’t mean to take too long, except one of his newer hunter’s is lingering at the door as Alec departs.

“Isaac, something wrong?”

Isaac’s eyes widen at the blunt question but then they narrow again, fixated on the metal and leather twisted around Alec’s neck, as if it’s a taunt he can’t let go.  Isaac is also an alpha, to see a collar around another alpha who is also his leader seems to be too much for him and if it is, Alec will let him rest peacefully.

A last reward for good work in the field.

As if he can feel Alec’s bloodlust rising, Issac leans back, head tilting in instinct before he rumbles and Alec feels his blood sing.

“No, not a challenge!” Isaac backs up two more steps and shakes his head, eyes clearing up and he looks at Alec with uncertainty but no violence. “Just, what does it mean?  For the Institute, for your hunters?”

“It means—” 

“Alec!” 

Alec twitches at the interruption.  

That’s Starkweather’s voice and since he became acting head, Alec reassigned his once mentor to the archives.  Hodge shouldn’t be anywhere near the command station, not without an order.

“Alec what have you done?” Hodge looks both surprised and horrified to see the actual evidence of the claim on Alec. The disgust is clear in his eyes and Alec knows that he’s supposed to remain rational, but Isaac already is testing his instincts. 

Hodge’s open disdain is a livewire against Alec’s raw nerves.  

Alec should be with Magnus, glutting himself in Magnus’ scent and being scented and marked in return and 

“And you’re leaving the Institute?” 

Alec doesn’t bother answering and Hodge shakes his head and looks at him like Alec is someone in need of saving. 

“A downworlder? By Raziel, Alec you let yourself be collared by a—”

Hodge doesn’t get to finish his sentence, Alec tackles him.

It’s not clean and it’s not neat.

Alec rips into him with every ounce of anger and resentment that has been growing since Fray showed up and Jace’s immediate interest in her was understandable.  Simply because she’s an omega and he's an alpha.

Meanwhile Alec finally has something and someone that makes him feel whole and wanted and right and in the very place he commands, he’s met with confusion and derision.

Alec isn’t really sure how he gets his fingers into Hodge’s mouth but he does and the screaming turns into white noise as he wrenches Hodge’s face into two separate pieces.

Ripping him apart at the jaw, unhinging it forcefully until half of Hodge’s face lies on the ground.

“Holy Raziel.” 

Alec ignores the blood coating him and Isaac’s words because a portal has formed and while Hodge is still breathing, he won’t be for long.

“No iratze is allowed.  Let him drown in his own blood.”  It might be a healable injury for a nephilim alpha, if given care and runes but Alec won’t allow that. “If Jace or Izzy argue to save him, detain them, after ensuring Starkweather has breathed his last.”

The haze of battle threatens to overwhelm him and Isaac has already tested enough instincts that Alec is honestly tempted to just kill him as well.

However, Alec has to remain reasonable even though he desperately wants to let go.  

It’s with gritted teeth that he gets through the portal and then warm hands are sliding through the blood on his face and licking it from his lips and chins.

“There you are kitten, don’t you look sweet like this.”

AN:

Magnus was delighted to have a blood covered (uninjured alec) come back to him.  However he was about to come through the portal himself if alec didn’t hurry it up because Alec like, chipped a nail while wrenching Hodge’s face apart and Magnus was happy for a reason to fetch his mate

[tiredandoptimistic]

My firmest TSC take will always be that Jace should have gone by Lightwood in the end. I get that him being a Herondale makes sense in the grand scheme of the TSC universe (him, Will, James, Kit, and Edmund are all birds of a feather), but his personal arc is far more dependent on the family who raised him. Learning about his biological parents is of course important to him, but calling himself a Herondale doesn't actually feel like a resolution to his identity crisis. TMI is all about rejecting the hatred handed down from previous generations, which is why neither Clary nor Jace identify as Morgensterns. While Stephen was nowhere near as bad as Valentine, he also did even less to shape Jace into his adult self. Robert and Maryse on the other hand actually raised him for half his life, and Alec Isabelle and Max grew up alongside him as his siblings. He's a Lightwood in every way that matters, I don't get why Jace (in-universe) would choose to identify himself as a Herondale when there's nothing tying him to that family but blood spilled before he was born.

Anyways, I'm a Jace Lightwood truther for life, thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[cheezeeflowerboi]

Obikin Singer AU.

Anakin is a famous pop singer, however, he wants to sing something else(I don't know, maybe alt rock or grunge). Like, he's singing Bye Bye Bye but he wants to sing Smells Like Teen Spirit, but because of his contract he has to keep playing boring stuff.

One day he goes out of his way to avoid the paparazzi, which are all very crazy over him as he is a very attractive boy band member, and he goes to sing at a little bar in downtown Coruscant. He's playing with some old college friends: Rex on guitar, Cody on drums, Quinlan on bass, and Ahsoka on keys, Anakin singing.

Possible makeup scene with Ahsoka, insert a little mascara, a little eyeshadow, leather fit, you get the picture. It's all a very big contrast to what he's been forced to wear in his boy band.

After months, Bail finally coerces busy body Obi-Wan into finally taking a break for once. He brings him to a small bar, or at least a small bar for Coruscant. Obi-Wan complains over how he could be doing anything else then but eventually stops once the band starts playing.

Obi-Wan of course becomes enamored with the singer's strong voice and gorgeously dark features. At some point, Anakin sees him in the crowd and immediately ups his game to the max. He's biting his lip, winking, and has already gone from Black Hole Sun to Bad Things by Jace Everett. (All songs are just vibe based it doesn't have to be them.)

Anyway, Quinlan spots Obi-Wan in the crowd as well, fishes him out after the show, and brings him backstage to meet the crew. As soon as they get the chance, Obi-Wan and Anakin are flirting hard with one another and Anakin even gives Obi-Wan his number, though in a much shier fashion than on stage since it's a lot more difficult to talk to the beautiful man with a sexy accent up close.

Obi-Wan gladly takes the number but mules over whether or not he use it, after all his job is really important. But after feeling sad and lonely for the last time, he gives him a call.

Either A) They go on a couple dates, talk about life, and they're polar opposites except for their taste in music. Like magnets they're just drawn to one another. Stuff builds up. Obi-Wan attends every grunge/rock concert of his and willing shows Anakin his precious vintage record vinyls. Meanwhile, Anakin starts dressing up in sluttier clothing at each concert because he feels bolder on stage than in person until one day Obi-Wan just can't take it anymore and fucks the boy band out of him.

B) All of the above except Obi-Wan randomly sees Anakin all dressed up in doll clothes as an advertisement for his next boy band concert, and he spits his tea out at the sight. Is that Anakin??? What's he doing in that very revealing outfit playing a contradictory genre??

C) They have a one night stand but some paparazzi interrupt their personal time. Obi-Wan is oblivious though as Anakin just randomly storms out. A few weeks pass and all he can think about is that hot singer, and without noticing it he starts collecting a ton of rock/grunge music records until the above happens.

All in all, they end up going at it nasty with a possible voice kink Obi-Wan and a manhandling kink Anakin.

[jimblejamblewritings]

starlight moonlight sunlight — blurb eleven

Title: Two Steps Forward

Pairing: eventual poly!Wolfstar x reader

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, we're approaching the comfort part

blurb series navigation here | previous blurb here

✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾✭ ☾

The first couple of times that you and your friends went to the lake, no one else was there. After you sent a letter by owl, the marauders and company started coming. You didn’t want to take advantage of James’ hospitality. At the end of the day, this was quite literally his home. They could use the lake if they wanted to. So while sometimes you staggered times, most days your friend group and the marauders simply took to separate sides of the lake. 

It was mildly pathetic — Remus and Sirius were aware — that they just stared at you when you and your friends weren't looking but they couldn't help it. Your bathing suits left very little to the imagination. Honestly, sometimes they were sure that you were just using your underwear as a swimsuit. This was one of those times. You slowly came out of the water, drying yourself off with a large fluffy towel.

"I have to go guys. I promised to come in early and help close the store after my book signing."

"Good luck. We'll be the first in line when it's time."

With a laugh, you gave them a wave before heading back inside the cottage to get ready for work. You had finished your book before graduation, with nothing but time thanks to the sudden loneliness you had found yourself in. It had been picked up by an agent relatively quickly and a publisher even quicker than that. And now it was officially out. Ever since the marketing for your book came out the bookstore saw a new light. You weren't sure if you were going to reach bestseller status but at least the bookstore saw customers daily now. And from what you could tell, the pre-order numbers weren't bad.

Only half an hour after you left, Max also got out of the water to go run a few errands. He probably didn't need to leave this early but he wanted to make sure that he and the rest of your friends were in fact the first in line for your signing. He could have apparated to a closer spot near Gringotts but chose to pass by the bookstore instead, chuckling when he saw you promptly reach to change the radio station.

The marauders had been finding some success with their band. They weren't huge and they weren't even sure if they were going to continue it professionally past university but it was fun for now. You, however, had a strict rule that no songs by Mischief Managed were ever allowed to be played while you were on shift.

With the scariest of your friends gone for the better half of the morning, Remus and Sirius found an opportunity to pounce. For once in his life, the raven-haired man kept his mouth shut and let his boyfriend do all the talking. Remus wanted to shrink under the gaze of your friends. They weren't nearly as scary as Max and he was a good bit taller than all of them yet three pairs of eyes focused on him was still fairly intimidating. Pamola, Jace, and Tilda all exchanged glances as they listened to Remus' ramblings. At some point, they weren't even sure what he was going on about anymore.

Pamola finally cut him off. "We'll be at your place for tea in twenty minutes. We can talk then."

They would have thought Remus just one the lottery with how bright he smiled. He and Sirius practically ran back to the main house on Potter Estate to get the sunroom ready. Obviously, they still had to apologize to you but they were more than aware they had to get through your friends first. They didn't have to be liked but Remus and Sirius needed to be tolerated enough to not have all their attempts blocked.

The sunroom looked nice. Pamola, Jace, and Tilda had to admit as they sat down. Sirius was a perfect gentleman as he prepared their tea to each person's liking, continuing to let Remus take the lead. There was much less flustered bumbling this time. Pamola and Matilda put on their best mean glares while Jace motioned for the two men to sit down.

"Do you know why we, especially Max, have been so hostile towards you?"

"Because you're good friends?"

He chuckled. "At least you understand the concept of flattery, Lupin. No, we're this way because she won't be. Garden nymphs are loyal to a fault. So are wood nymphs. Trees and gardens don’t move. They don’t flow with the wind but stay firm. She’s only two generations of wizard. Ancient bloodline of nymphs. She doesn’t know how to leave until that wizard side kicks in.” 

Pamola took a sip of her tea. “She’s been hurt before with other friends. Stayed longer than she should have. Y/N was hurt pretty badly by the whole thing.” 

“What happened?” 

“Nymphs are nature so they are very comfortable with a lack of clothing.” 

“Yeah, we’ve noticed,” Remus said with a laugh. It would be impossible not to be aware at this point.

“She trusted them. Made a little grove in the woods on school grounds and everything. Finally showed them a place where she could just be herself. They went swimming in the river and took pictures of her. Everyone wanted to see what a nymph looked like under her clothes.”

Matilda huffed. “They cut her face out of the pictures and convinced her that it was okay. Just an accident. No one outside of school could tell but we only have two student nymphs and the other one is a guy. Everyone at Ilvermorny knew it was her.” 

“They did that?” 

She nodded. “And she was still friends with them for another three months until we got her to be with us instead. Gardens don’t leave when their tillers stop tending to them. They just stay where they are until they wither. Nymphs are the same. Just be nice to her a few times and you’ve got the garden in your hands. She loves until it destroys her.”

“She never told us.” 

“Of course not.” Jace sat back in his chair. “Look, it’s nothing against you, even before this shit happened she still wouldn’t have told. It accidentally gets out and everyone’s trying to be her friend or get with her while knowing they can treat her like shit and she won’t stop them.” 

Sirius scratched the back of his head, looking up to try and prevent tears from welling in his eyes. It probably took a lot of courage and effort for you to tell him off those times. Even though it ruined your friendship, he was really proud of you for doing so. He sniffled a bit before looking back at your friends. 

“Who’s the other nymph? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Me,” Jace said, his ears turning pointed at the tips. “Nymphs stick together. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t protect Y/N. Look, you two have been decent ever since we've been here. Come after her book signing but don't expect us to help you if she doesn't want to talk to you."

Remus and Sirius nodded with the utmost sincerity. All they wanted was a chance to talk you again. They truly weren't expecting anything else no matter how badly they were hoping for it. Was it torture waiting for the clock to read 6pm? Absolutely. But the marauders weren't going to risk messing anything up by arriving even a second too early.

You smiled in satisfaction as you packed up the little sign in the window that had announced the book signing. Even though he didn't work there, Max stayed behind for a little bit to help you clean up. Like expected, the crowd wasn't going for miles down the road but it was enough people to fill up the store. And that was more than good enough for you. You briefly paused your wiping down of tables when you heard the bell on the store's front entrance chime.

"Hello, welcome to Pages in Bloom. Feel free to look around but it's Sunday so we do close in twenty minutes. Be right wit—.” You paused at seeing the marauders and company.

James and Peter held up multiple bags. “We brought wine to celebrate the debut.” 

Max slung an arm around your shoulder, staring them down. Sirius recognized that look. The one fiercely protective of a friend. The one that threatened everyone around because he had to pick up the pieces and would be damned if someone else came in to shatter your heart again. 

“Do you want me to kick them out?” he whispered against your shoulder. 

“No, I'll be fine. And you have a date, don't want to miss it."

They knew they had no right but Sirius and Remus breathed out sighs of relief at confirmation that he wasn’t your boyfriend. 

“You sure?” 

You nodded. Max walked past the group without saying a word, shoulder checking Sirius who just let it happen. To say there was tension would be the understatement of a century. Quietly, wine bottles were opened and poured into glasses. Congratulations and rave reviews fell from everyone's lips. You politely thanked them back. But no one seemed able to move past pleasantries and address anything deeply. You had a sense that maybe they were avoiding do so, waiting for something or someones, judging by the way they kept glancing over at your ex and his partner. Eventually, the sun started to set and the others slowly began filing out. Remus and Sirius stayed seated.

You preemptively poured another glass of wine, fearing you might need it. Remus gladly took the bottle from you when it was offered and poured himself the largest amount he could muster. He ran a hand through his hair before settling it to rest on the table.

"Firstly, before we say anything else, we want to apologize. Y/N, I'm sorry, truly."

You listened intently as Sirius echoed his sentiments. They didn't mince words, directly apologizing for what they did wrong rather than trying to be vague about it. And they didn't make excuse after excuse either.

"And I know we're in no position to make requests," Sirius started. "But we'd like to start over with you. Well, Moony would. I'd like to be given a chance to simply start something. If you'll have the both of us, that is."

The glass of wine in your hands felt heavy as you traced your finger along the rim. It wasn't a mattered of if you wanted them. Sirius' flirtatious nature wasn't something you were immune to. Remus' nice personality drew you in the first time. And both of them were more than pleasing to the eye. So the problem wasn't if you wanted them. It was should you let yourself want them.

“I don’t want another broken heart,” you admitted. “You hurt me, Remus. You really did.” 

“I know. But we promise that you won’t have another broken heart.” 

“I want to believe you but I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

“Is there any way we can fix this? Any inkling of a small possibility you’ll allow us to fix this?” 

You finally looked at them. “I would love for this to work. You’re both really nice and care for your friends and love each other dearly. I’d love that, to be a part of that. But I don’t think it’ll work. It’s the Remus and Sirius show. No room for other actors.” 

“It’s not. It won’t be. We promise.”

Sirius started to reach for your hand but thought better of it. "Let us prove it. We're not asking for anything right now but when uni starts can you at least close off your dating schedule? Pencil us in for all the slots… or at least half of them?"  

You nodded ever so slightly. Semi-exclusivity was something you were willing to give them.

|next blurb coming soon|

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[tragedy-machine]

no but, how am I to believe that Edwin and Charles are not gonna be endgame??

Charles's character in the doom patrol was heavily, heavily implied to also have feelings for Edwin too

the rejection was literally like "I'm not in love, but you're more important to me than anyone else, we'll figure out what that means later"

the actors both said they "wouldn't call it Edwin being friendzoned, bcs their arc has not yet been fully resolved"

we got to see Charles jealous of Edwin's time with Monty and the Cat King, and do nooot even joke that that wasn't jealously, like what else, what else bro? why would they go so overboard to make it seem like Charles was peeved af in those moments

there's already so much love between them

usually shows that do the "gay bestie in love with his straight bestie" use it briefly as a more of a backstory for a character, to then introduce a new love interest for the gay, so the previous crush can be an obstacle in their love arc (like in shadowhunters with alec, jace and magnus)

why would you hurt my buddy Edwin like that

the ship of Charles and Crystal never really took off in my opinion, they liked each other and kissed, but then Crystal ended it, but even if they continued dating in s2 any human x ghost ship is doomed to fail from the beginning, they've sadly got like maybe max 5/6 years until it's gonna be very visible that Crystal is no longer a teen and older than Charles soo unless she dies, they can't really be endgame (and this is not to shit on this ship!!! I've got nothing against it, just think they would have had to really committed to it and milk the aging drama for the angst to make me invested in it)

[lord-montgomery]

jace was so sure from the jump that izzy would get bored of simon. of course she would. that's the way izzy operated right? date a boy until he stopped being interesting. move on. izzy was too interesting for any boy anyway, and some ridiculous mundane? please. give her two weeks max.

funny, though, how that .. never happened. izzy never got bored. but it was never about getting bored. not really. even if that's what she told her brothers, even if that's what she told herself. the boredom came not because there wasn't more to uncover but because she refused to get close enough to see the more. the things that make a man interesting, that make him tick. she refused to let her own more be seen too, but all the interesting stuff is already on the outside right? a man could never get bored of isabelle lightwood. so she has to tire of them. otherwise she risks getting too close. otherwise she risks opening her heart.

and simon.. simon just kept surprising her. the thing about someone who is so unassuming to begin with is that they have the tendency to keep proving you wrong. and simon doesn't hide anything either. he shoots a skylight. he bites a vampire. hell, he becomes a vampire! he's funny and he's kind and he pays attention. he's not like the guys izzy has dated because they wear their interesting on the outside. they make it possible for izzy not to have to dig any deeper. but simon is just an open book that once izzy flipped the first page she found she couldn't manage to look up from.

izzy was never going to get bored of simon. no matter what jace said. no matter what izzy definitely thought at the beginning as well. because how could she? he's simon.

[foodsies4me]

i keep having thoughts about bridges

if alec is supposed to stay with magnis for a year then that means he will have a birthday and i just picture it like this

*on alecs birthday*

alec doesent really care about his birthday (bc of maryse and robert ofc, he used to think he would get something fun for his birthday bc mayrese always made sure jace got a good gift and robert always did that for isabelle (he used to think maybe only girls got gift bc izzy always got something but never him, but then jace got adopted and he got something too so maybe things changed...but no) ) anyways alec learned not to care about his birthday as to not be dissapointed and he generaly doesent wanna be the center of attention ayways so he and izzy and jace (and later max) made a made it a small tradition that he will accept a "happy birthday" and a gift only from them and it being a lowkey thing. Later on the trainees insist on making him a birthday card and drawing him pictures as a gift.

So when hes with magnus he doesent even think to mentionits his birthday to anyone bc it doesent matter anyways and why would thay care? he does smile when his box is stuffed full pf birthday cards from the trainees tho.

one day he and magnus are bantering and magnus goes something like "wise words froma 20 year old"

"21 actually- anyways--"

"what!?"

"what?"

"it was your birthday?"

"yeah a few weeks back but it doesent matter"

magnus is---sad? shoked bc all warlocks do something big for their birthdays, shadowhunters are so weird? idk but he doesent like it

the rookies, cat and the wearwolfs are also not happy they missed his birthday also wouldent magnus his husband know when alecs birthday is??? especally since its his first birthday after getting married... sus 🤔😒

Nonnie you have no idea how delightful I find that scenario. And how sad I am that I am not going to be able to include it in the fic in that shape because of spoilers. (Am I now wondering if I should retroactively make Alec nineteen at the start of the fic to have his birthday happen during the story to include this as a one-shot? Maybeeee) But yes, Magnus would be sad and the werewolves will be devastated bevause they’re friends Alec! Sven and Anita even have a kiddo on the way to make sure they’re the favourite! This is bettayal of the highest degree!

The rookies will take a page out of the trainee playbook and stage a secret surprise belated party because no party for Alec is not allowed. They all decide to make a mix of handmade or magicmade presents and baby Max puts or draws at least two bandaids on his present.💜

[sielaltruist]

A Photograph.

"Alright, look here," She shouts, looking at her elder brother and his family.

Isabelle watches as the onset of sundown paints an ethereal picture, adding to the beauty of already beautiful day. There was so much love and laughter today. And she's immensely happy for a day like this that marked the end of chaos.

"Max, here, look at Uncle Simon," her fiancé urges. It feels positively ecstatic whenever she reminds herself that Simon is her bespoken love. Her one and only.

Alec is holding Max in his arms as the boy plays with his Dad's wedding-suit lapels, too lost in tracing the runes on the coat.

"Blueberry, come on, look over there," Magnus tries, who is standing next to his husband and has his arms full of Rafe. The Lightwood-Banes are standing at a distance of more than two metres away from her.

Her elder nephew is the only one following their instructions, not making a move, and intently looking at the camera.

They both, Simon and she, are trying to take a picture of this lovely yet chaotic family. Her fiancé is holding the camera while she urges these Lightwood-Banes to at least glance in their direction without moving for a second, except for Rafe, who is an angel.

"How long is it going to take?" Her brother says, looking accusingly at her.

"Alec, you're the one who's moving now," she complains.

"Alexander, sometimes perfection takes time," Magnus tries to convince him.

Alec just rolls his eyes, and she makes a face at him.

"This better be perfect, Simon," Magnus adds later.

"It'll be once you all stop inventing a new pose every second," Simon shouts back, adjusting the angle again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the tiny sparkle of Simon's engagement ring, which brings back memories and instills pieces of the wedding day that is yet to come.

"Where did Jace go?" She looks around, searching for the blonde boy who was showing off his daggers to the kids right before this entire photo fiasco started.

"He's busy," Her brother responds, his face obviously giving away whatever information he is hiding.

"Doing what?" She questions, unsatisfied with response.

"Uh, Izzy, he might be busy with someone, some Ichigo ringer," Simon tells her.

"Oooh, the proposal," Isabelle remarks.

She's absolutely excited to plan another wedding, even though this one was a bit rushed, as she thought they would plan it for at least two months.

She had an entire binder, of which only one-fifth was used for organising this day.

"Wait, you knew?"

"Of course, I knew, Jace looked like he'd fall off a bridge given any moment,"

"And, this one here, can't hide a secret," She points to her brother, who is saying something to Rafe that makes the boy laugh.

"Alec told you?" Simon asks, puzzled.

"No, his face gives it away," She replies.

It's true, Alec may have a perfect poker face, but it's only limited to official meetings. And it's immensely easy to read him when he's happy.

"Yours too, Si," She says later.

Simon shakes his head as if he's tired of her all-knowing and audacious self, which in turn makes her chuckle.

"Love birds," She hears Magnus shout, making her look towards them, only to find Magnus wearing a smirk and Alec looking unimpressed.

"We're still here, waiting for that picture," Alec yells.

"Yup, on it," Simon says.

"Can't wait for the wedding night, huh?" She comments, just to watch her brother's face morph into a scowl.

"Izzy," Alec shouts back, while Magnus hides his smile.

"Okay, okay, focus on the task," Magnus tells them.

"Ready," Simon shouts while she, having the attention of the kids, points at both of her cheeks with her index fingers. Her nephews, who understand the gesture, pose perfectly for the picture, surprising their parents.

And it's the most wonderful and adorable photograph of the night.

Max kisses his Dad on the cheek while Rafe does the same with his Bapak, the surprise evident on their parents' faces, just as love, warmth, and happiness are.

Read it on AO3

[drakaripykiros130ac]

So, now I read insane posts that Mysaria becoming Rhaenyra’s lover makes perfect sense in terms of how the White Worm managed to manipulate her in the book.

Excuse me????!!!

So, the only possible way to manipulate someone is through a sexual relationship?

Maybe for people with one or two brain cells max.

In actual canon, the Dance had been chipping away at Rhaenyra’s mental health since the moment it started. Because first she lost her father (with the Greens covering it up and not even letting her see him), then she discovered the snakes stole her throne, and then she lost Visenya. These three in one blow. Not long after, Luke had been murdered.

At this point, Rhaenyra was not only physically incapacitated (the miscarriage did some damage and she was not allowed to ride Syrax for a long time), but mentally as well (she lost a father and two children).

Then, as the Dance progressed, she remained isolated at Dragonstone, not mentally capable of leading the Black Council and her husband could not remain there and be by her side either, (because how else were they to win the war if no one actually left the island to gather support)? Rhaenyra and Daemon did not have any quarrel. The Queen could not leave Dragonstone, and Daemon had to go, secure Harrenhal and ensure the support of Great Houses.

Then came the Battle of the Gullet, where Jace died. His death is what broke Rhaenyra for good. She was never the same after she lost her firstborn. Afterwards, she lost Viserys too (she believed he was dead).

And I do not recall Mysaria being at Dragonstone at all during this time. She helped Daemon with Blood and Cheese, but she came in the picture and became the Mistress of Whisperers only after the Blacks took King’s Landing.

After the Fall of King’s Landing, Daemon had to leave again, because the war had not yet been completely won. And so, that was when Rhaenyra was left alone with Mysaria advising her in King’s Landing.

Nowhere is there any indication whatsoever that there was anything going on between these two. And Mysaria, very easily, took advantage of Rhaenyra’s emotional state (and her Consort’s absence) in order to turn her against Daemon. And let’s be honest…it’s not some big achievement. Between Daemon’s “questionable” actions and Rhaenyra’s mental state, it was very easy for Mysaria to get the job done with just a few whispers.

Stop trying to defend a shitshow of a scene, which the showrunners themselves admitted came out of nowhere and was not scripted (therefore, intended for queerbaiting purposes alone).

Nothing like shipping Rhaenyra with the woman who literally tips her over the edge and destroys her life, right?

I repeat, girl on girl action is easy to find online. It’s not that rare. If you’re that desperate, find a decent site, a quiet space and work out…whatever you have to work out.