#He doesn’t know whom he feels more betrayed by

[slttygeto]

CURSING MY NAME, WISHING I STAYED.

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you never got the chance to say goodbye to each other in 2007, you never thought you needed to. ten years later, you are still unable to find the right words as you stand in front of his lifeless body. if suguru geto was truly dead, who was the man standing in front you almost a year later?

જ⁀➴ content warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, manga spoilers, slapping and choking.

જ⁀➴ word count: 1,4k

જ⁀➴ note: this was requested about a year ago and I only got the chance to work on it today. enjoy :)!

You never associate Suguru with spring, despite it being such a lovely season, you remember it being the one season where he decided he needed to pull away. It was subtle, but you could feel it. He ate less, spoke less, he didn’t want to hang out as usual. You didn’t go on missions anymore, but you tried to be present. Even when summer came around and all hell broke loose.

You associate Suguru with autumn. Satoru doesn’t say a single word when you say it loud, when you tell him that that the orange leaves falling down and painting the road remind you of your past lover, how your love for him felt that way when he left—fragile, easily crushed. But Satoru would beg to differ. He could see it in your eyes, how they refuse to meet his when Yaga brings up the man’s name. It hurts to lose a best friend, but it hurts even more when you have a best friend and a lover in the same person.

Ten years later on Christmas Eve, Satoru has to put his best friend to rest. He doesn’t need to call you or tell you where he is, you just know. You show up as Suguru is taking his last breath and you stand there, unmoving. Your love for Suguru didn’t feel like autumn anymore. The tears running down your face were warm, and your chin was quivering as you let out a pathetic sob.

“I’m sorry.” What was Suguru apologizing for? For killing people or for betraying the people he loved the most? You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, didn’t even bother to wipe the tears blurring your vision. You just stared at him, how a smile was dancing on his lips as he saw the two people he loved the most standing in front of him.

“Perhaps in another life,” Suguru’s voice is quiet, and you seem to take notice of how pale he looks. “I am who you’ve always wanted me to be.”

You wanted him to be many things, but it seemed unfair for him. If Suguru was truly unhappy while in Jujutsu high, then maybe you were never meant to be together. If he couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world, then perhaps destiny played its cards wrong. If you were never able to keep Suguru around, then Suguru was never yours to keep in the first place.

You watch as the life slowly fades out of his body, and Satoru turns away from the corpse of his best as you kneel down in front of it and hold his lifeless body in your arms, the heart wrenching sobs that you let out force the strongest sorcerer to stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s time to go.”

--

 “You’re late, (name).” You never associated Suguru with autumn after his death. In fact, no season could do your past lover justice. Yet the person standing in front of you reminded you of winter—cold, mean and lifeless.

Why was Suguru standing in front of you?

You and Satoru are unmoving as the familiar body of your best friend and lover approaches the two of you. You don’t speak, your lips are frozen as you stare in shock at the same person whom you’ve been mourning his death for the past twelve months.

Geto Suguru passed away on December 24th. You’ve been mourning his absence for almost a year—so who was this person standing in front of you?

“I don’t remember you being this quiet, my love.” The pet name sent shivers down your spine, and you watched as the hand of your past lover reached towards your face to hold it. You craved this, to be held by him again after so long, to feel the warmth of the one person who promised you a lifetime of happiness—only to break that promise so soon. You pull away harshly when the tip of his fingers touches your cheek, and Geto Suguru seems to find your hesitance extremely funny.

“Who are you?” You step back towards Gojo, and you don’t need to look his way to know that he was just as taken aback as you were. Wide blue eyes staring in shock at his best friend—his one and only. It was sad that Geto Suguru (while he was still alive) was your enemy for longer than he was a loved one or a best friend.

“Geto Suguru of course.” Liar.

“My six eyes…” Satoru starts, and your heart breaks at how panicked he sounds. “My six eyes are telling me that you are Geto Suguru.”

But he wasn’t Suguru. This wasn’t the man you fell for, nor the man you fought last year. You refused to believe that he somehow came back to life. Not when you kneeled in front of his corpse and held him in your arms.

“But my soul knows otherwise! So hurry up and tell us, who the hell are you?!”

It’s a gut wrenching feeling as you watch the man in front of you open up Geto’s head and toy with it as he wished. He lets out an ugly laugh, one that doesn’t match Suguru’s beauty.

“It’s a cursed technique that allows me to hop between bodies by switching brains. Of course, it lets me use the innate techniques within the body, I coveted his cursed manipulation and these exact circumstances.” His eyes then land on you and a sinister smile is dancing on his lips.

“You,” he starts, taking one step forward towards you. “As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories, begged Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri to not get rid of Geto Suguru’s body, am I right?”

As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories.

You didn’t know what to react to first. His words felt like a thousand burning knives, each one stabbing you from a different side. You fight back the urge to jump on him, you know you’re at disadvantage because Satoru was bound to this prison realm.

“I did.” Your response is short and quick, and the man in front of you chuckles at how dry you sound.

“He loves you a lot, you know?” Kenjaku pauses for a second, and the time he takes before continuing makes you feel as though he was mocking you. “Always wished he could trade places with the strongest sorcerer. You two were close, it always nagged him.”

This wasn’t true. This could never be true because Satoru and Suguru were closer than ever. You don’t remember a single instance where you felt as though Suguru was jealous of his best friend. This man was trying to shatter you in hopes of trapping you the same way he trapped Gojo Satoru.

“How are you gonna let yourself get used like this, huh?” Satoru sounds enraged. “Tell me, Suguru!”  

You are just as shocked as Kenjaku when his neck twists, a sign of resistance when hearing Satoru’s loud yell. It was almost as if he heard him and wanted to wake up, to free himself of the man who was using his body to toy with the feelings of his loved ones. He then laughs, and again it sounds evil as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Ha! No way! This is a first for me,” his eyes then fall on your frozen figure and by the look on his face, he was up to no good.

His hand makes its way towards you and wraps around your neck, you get that his intention was to choke you. But when his hand refuses to squeeze around your neck, the look on his face turns into an annoyed one. Kenjaku couldn’t hurt you, Suguru didn’t let him.

Unfortunately, he still had more control than the original soul occupying the body and his hand manages to grab your neck and push you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of your chest.

“You’re getting in the way.” No matter how hard Gojo tried to shift the attention back on him, Kenjaku seemed to want to get rid of you and as fast as possible. You find yourself thrown next to Satoru, tied up in similar bounds.

“Goodnight, my love.” His hand caresses your cheek, and you’re forced to feel his cold touch against your skin. You hear a smack and your cheek stings, teary eyes forced to stare into his cold ones when he roughly grabs your jaw.

“Let us meet in the new world.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[bosbas]

Chapter 6: in a world of boys he's a gentleman

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, Eloise being the best, Colin finally having brain cell(s), but then very quickly losing aforementioned brain cells

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

May 30, 1816 – One week has passed since the unfortunate revelation of Lord Barlow’s true nature, and Lady Y/N Montclair has yet to make an appearance at a ball. Could it be that the Duke’s betrayal has left her too disillusioned? Perhaps the eligible gentlemen of London have failed to meet her exacting standards. One can't help but wonder if Lady Y/N be present at tonight’s ball, where the ton's most eligible bachelors will undoubtedly be vying for her attention now that she is decidedly searching for a new suitor. Who among them shall be lucky enough to capture her attention? This author does not know, but hopefully, this evening reveals more of Lady Montclair’s intentions.

Colin was grinding his teeth, his right eye twitching slightly as he glared at Eloise, with whom he had been arguing for the better part of the last hour. 

“It’s not like I haven’t tried to be agreeable! She’s just impossible,” he ground out.

Colin was about finished with having to face criticism from his sister when you were the one who had ignored his attempt at a truce.

“It certainly doesn’t help that you rile her up every single time you see her. She’s trying to find a husband, mind you!” Eloise shouted back. 

She had grown quite close to you in the past weeks, and she knew the kind of pressure you were under tonight. It was your first ball after finding out the Duke had sneaked away from the Bridgerton ball with Miss Barrington, and your full focus would be on finding a new suitor. Eloise generally preferred to stay out of your neverending conflict with Colin, but she knew he would never understand what you were going through. The very least she could do was ensure that he acted decently toward you, though it seemed like even that would prove a challenge. 

“Exactly! I was the one who wanted to warn her about Lord Barlow’s betrayal, and now she thinks I’m the one who gave him access to our courtyard,” snapped Colin. 

He couldn’t believe Eloise. How could she not see that you were one of the most infuriating, unpleasant, and insolent people in the ton? Why was she so intent on defending you? Colin was irritated beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to never speak with you again after the horse races. You had promptly ignored him after accusing him of orchestrating Lord Barlow and Miss Barrington’s escapade, and he spent the rest of the afternoon angrily stealing glances at you as you chatted pleasantly with his sister. 

And to learn that you still wanted to find a husband? You could become a spinster, for all he cared. And he didn’t. He didn’t care. About you or about Lord Barlow, or frankly, about anything that had transpired since the Bridgerton ball. All he knew was that tonight, he would be forced to watch you bat your eyelashes and giggle softly as you talked to countless men when all he got from you were angry stares and sarcastic laughs. 

“She’s the one who doesn’t want to be on good terms with me,” he added stubbornly, crossing his arms. 

Eloise let out an exasperated groan and rolled her eyes. “Colin! Can you not find it in yourself to set aside your dislike for her and understand that she is an unmarried lady who just lost a titled man she was practically guaranteed to marry? She is in a precarious situation, not to mention feeling heartbroken and betrayed.”

In truth, Colin thought, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t even begin to. He had never faced that kind of pressure before, certainly not about something as trivial as marriage, and suddenly he felt guilty for wanting to spend the entire evening tormenting you so he could avoid watching you amass suitors. 

Sensing that her words had struck a nerve, Eloise took advantage of her brother’s waning resolve. “You are Colin Bridgerton, Mayfair’s sweetheart! I don’t understand why you can’t act that way with her.”

“She doesn’t want that! She doesn’t want me!” Colin yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut in frustration. 

But Eloise didn’t let up. “I’ll wager she wants that tonight. You don’t need to kiss the ground she walks on. Just be civil and refrain from any ungentlemanly conduct. It’s her first ball since the Lord Barlow scandal, and she doesn’t need to look bad in front of a crowd of eligible bachelors.”

“I don’t ever do it on purpose!” he defended. 

“You could’ve fooled me,” scoffed Eloise. Then, softening her tone, she added, “Just tonight. Please.”

“Fine,” he relented. 

If it was so important to Eloise, he would do it. He supposed he would want someone to do that to Eloise if she was ever in your same position. But he was already dreading the night. He had never particularly enjoyed balls, and he knew tonight would be especially dreadful. Usually, your arguments provided prime entertainment, and if he wasn’t allowed to fight with you tonight, he would just have to endure the monotony of the ballroom without any respite. 

---

You drew in a sharp breath as you entered the ballroom, looking around at the crowd nervously. Charlotte placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and led you toward the back of the room. Had she chosen to go to the furthest place from the entrance simply to torture you? You were nervous enough as it was; you didn’t need the added anxiety of having everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through the crowd. 

You had opted for an elegant white gown tonight. Well, your mother had suggested it and you had inevitably agreed to wear it. 

“It’s meant to look like a wedding dress!” she had exclaimed earlier. “It shows you’re still in the marriage mart despite everything that’s happened, and you’ll have gentlemen queuing up to dance with you.”

Whatever the reasoning behind the gown, you had to admit that it was beautiful. It accentuated your figure, and you could already feel plenty of keen eyes on you and more than a few furtive whispers. Though you couldn’t make out exactly what people were saying, you were sure you heard your name mentioned several times. However, you smiled gracefully at everyone anyway, wanting to avoid being seen as a complete laughingstock after losing Arthur. The Duke, you corrected yourself. He was no longer Arthur to you.

“Y/N,” you heard Eloise’s excited voice beside you.

You turned to see her smiling face and squeezed Charlotte’s hand to let her know she could go on without you. 

“Hello, El,” you greeted, smiling wide. 

“The balls have been torture without you! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she gushed, taking your hand and leading you to a less crowded part of the ballroom. 

You relaxed slightly. At least one person here didn’t hate you. But perhaps she was the only one. As you kept speaking with Eloise, you realized that not a single bachelor had come to ask you for a dance. Usually, you had to reject quite a few gentlemen within the first few minutes of being at a ball, but your dance card remained empty tonight. 

Swallowing nervously, you looked around the room and assessed the gravity of your situation. Plenty of people were staring at you, but no one had moved toward you. Were they waiting for someone else to walk up to you? Did they not want to be the first to dance with you? Or did this mean that Lord Barlow’s actions had well and truly ruined you? Feeling the familiar beginnings of tears forming in your eyes, you quickly started to panic. What would your parents say? 

You were trying to focus on Eloise’s words, but all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat, and you were surprised people around you couldn’t hear it, too. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably as you realized that you might have truly fallen out of favor with the ton. The thought made you feel sick. This wasn’t how you wanted the season to go. How you needed it to go. 

Just as you were ready to bolt outside in search of fresh air, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Your stomach clenched, and for a fleeting moment, you hoped it was Colin Bridgerton. As much as you weren’t looking forward to the inevitable antagonism you would face from him, and as much as you knew that he wasn’t interested in anything from you other than an argument, the thought of engaging with someone of the opposite gender provided a fleeting sense of relief. Anything to momentarily divert your thoughts from the Duke's betrayal and the disheartening realization of your diminished standing in society. Although knowing Colin, he would probably bring up the subject just to spite you. 

However, as you turned around, you came face to face with your brother. A tiny rush of disappointment coursed through you, and you crinkled your face in confusion. It was a disconcerting realization, indeed, to find yourself yearning for the company of Colin Bridgerton, the very individual you despised most in the ton.

Leaning down close to you, Louis asked lowly, “Ça va?” (Are you alright?).

“Louis,” you rolled your eyes and nodded, trying to convince him­–and yourself–that you were fine. “Ça va” (I’m alright). 

“Excuse me just a moment,” spoke Eloise as she looked between you and your brother. She squeezed your hand and turned around, leaving you with Louis.

You cringed, internally hearing your parents scolding you for speaking French around her. But Louis, unphased by Eloise’s exit, spoke again. “Non, j’suis serieux. On peut y aller,” he insisted (No, I’m serious. We can leave). 

It was nice of him to check up on you. But it only left you feeling worse, a sobering reminder that your situation was dire enough that your brother was actually being sweet to you.

As much as you would have liked to, you knew you couldn’t leave the ball. It would only make it worse to flee now. Your parents had already allowed you a weeklong break from social events, and they would be most displeased to find out that you were giving up so soon after your re-entry into society.

So, you steeled yourself, forcing yourself to keep your tone light. “Leave the ball? For me or for you?” you asked Louis, poking him teasingly.

He relaxed upon hearing your light tone, letting out a breath as he smiled down at you. Your parents had asked him to be especially careful with you tonight, and he was left with sickening worry. You were his little sister, and as much as you had your differences, he still thought himself in charge, at least partially, of your wellbeing. 

The worst part was that he knew exactly the kind of man Andrew Barlow was, and he was beside himself with guilt that he had even let the man near you. But you seemed to be getting through it, he noted, relieved. 

Colin was rooted to the spot across the ballroom, staring at you as you engaged in easy conversation with your brother. How you could be so disagreeable toward him, and completely pleasant with everyone else was absolutely beyond him. 

But what really caught his attention tonight was your attire. You were wearing a white gown, and he briefly wondered if that was what your wedding dress would have looked like. He couldn’t help it; you looked positively stunning, and he was angry because he knew if he even attempted to talk to you, you would most likely bite his head off. 

Colin jumped as he felt a tap on his shoulder, slightly embarrassed at having been discovered staring at you. He turned around to face his mother and Eloise smiling far too innocently for his liking.

“Colin, go dance with Y/N, please.”

“Can’t Benedict do it?” Colin pleaded. He would do anything not to have to speak with you right this moment. It was far better to look at you from a distance, where he could pretend you didn’t completely despise him. 

“He’s dancing with Penelope Featherington at the moment, so no. Colin, it’s one dance!” Violet responded, exasperated.

“It’s not like she won’t have anyone else asking her,” grumbled Colin unhappily. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen anyone ask you for a dance tonight. 

“Colin,” Eloise pleaded. “If they see you dancing with her, they’ll be more inclined to speak with her.”

Remembering his conversation with his sister from earlier, Colin accepted defeat, mumbling a low “just this once.”

He found himself growing increasingly nervous as he made his way over to you, and he clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. What had gotten into him? This was merely a dance like any other. He’d done it many times before, and he could do it with you. 

He cleared his throat as he reached your side, drawing you out of your conversation with Louis. 

“Not you, too,” you sighed upon seeing him. “I’ve had enough of a difficult time today without your input.”

Colin was momentarily unable to speak, though he quickly recovered. At this point, he didn’t know why kept being so surprised that you thought so lowly of him. 

He was not like the rest of the cruel members of the ton, he thought defiantly. And he would show you just how unlike them he was. This was the real Colin Bridgerton, not the insecure, combative version of him that seemed to slip out whenever you were near.

“A dance, Lady Montclair. I came to ask for a dance,” he said patiently, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t act like you’ve got a full dance card,” he rolled his eyes. Alright, maybe he couldn’t completely shake his hostile demeanor.

"Mr. Bridgerton, that is-” 

“Please.” 

“Why?” came your indignant response. 

“We can say we’re both doing it for Eloise if that will make you feel better,” he said, eyebrows raised. 

Unsure, you turned to look at Louis beside you, who gave you an unimpressed look and gently nudged you in Colin’s direction. 

“Fine,” you huffed.

He let out a breath and reached for your dance card. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, Colin became hyperaware of his surroundings. Every sensation was heightened, and it was almost too much for him to hold your hand as he led you toward the dance floor. He had never had this much physical contact with you, bar the times you had not-so-accidentally stepped on his foot, and he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Your hand felt so delicate in his, and he was actively resisting the urge to interlock your fingers with his. Where had that come from? Why was it that he could never get a grip when he was around you?

Colin was forced back to the present moment as you reached the dance floor, and he carefully set one hand on your waist and used the other to hold your hand, getting into position before the music started playing. 

His stomach was in about a thousand knots, and he awkwardly shifted his hand placement, unsure about whether he was making too much physical contact with you. With the way you looked tonight, Colin would have been happy to keep his hands on you all night, but he was sure you did not share the sentiment, and the last thing he wanted was to inadvertently make you uncomfortable. If he was going to make you upset, he would much rather have done it on purpose and off the dance floor. But that’s not what Eloise has asked of him, so he settled for gingerly holding your waist, his fingers carefully touching the smooth fabric of your dress.

Much to his chagrin, Colin stumbled slightly as the music started in an attempt to begin dancing with you. This was not at all how the most charming member of the ton was supposed to act, he scolded himself, cringing. Perhaps it was a good thing you had never agreed to dance with him before this, and that he never got the chance to properly pursue you as a suitor. If merely a turn about the dance floor with you had him feeling so out of sorts, he couldn’t even imagine what kissing you must have felt like. 

Except now he was imagining what kissing you would feel like. His gaze suddenly fixated on your lips, and he wondered why he had never noticed how inviting they looked. It would be so easy to simply lean down, ever so slightly, and touch his lips to yours. Perhaps it would cause a scandal, given that you were in the middle of a ball, but he rather thought it would be worth it. Just a few- 

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Bridgerton” your sharp voice cut through his musings. 

Colin blinked, brought back to the present moment in an instant. It appeared that, in his rather improper daydream, his hold on your waist had tightened considerably. Irritation bubbled up inside of him as he softened his grip. It seemed that nothing had changed between the two of you, after all. His attempts at playing nice had been, as per usual, futile.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the concept of dancing, Lady Montclair, but it necessitates at least some level of physical contact,” he snapped, glaring but still unable to look away from your lips. 

Unfortunately, his words were punctuated by another stumble as he fought to stay upright and keep moving to the music, and he had to hold onto you to avoid toppling over. 

“What is the matter with you?” you hissed. “Did you never learn how to dance?” 

Colin looked down at you, grimacing and expecting to find the furious glare on your face he so often received. But your eyes were elsewhere. They were skittishly looking around the room, and your mouth was settling into a deeper and deeper frown. 

He noticed you anxiously chewing on your lip, your hand slightly shaky in his, though you were doing well to hide it. He felt like an idiot. Of course you were uneasy. It was your first dance trying to find a new suitor, and he was making you look like a fool in the middle of the dance floor. Colin felt his own anxiety melt away, replaced by a strange protectiveness he wasn’t sure he was familiar with.

“Just look at me,” he whispered as he twirled you.

You were too anxious to do anything but follow his instructions, and your eyes shifted to him instantly. He looked concerned, and you wondered whether it was concern for you or because he had almost fallen face-first in the middle of the dance floor. Either way, you were grateful you had something to focus on that wasn’t the constant obvious stares you were getting from everyone around you.

But, as Colin twirled you once again, you made eye contact with a man you had danced with on a few occasions. Before you could smile politely, he turned away to whisper something to the person beside him, and your face fell. As you returned to face Colin, you couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see who would be the next person to prove that you were ruined.

You felt a squeeze at your waist, and your eyes came back to Colin’s.

“They don’t matter. Pretend it’s just me and you,” he said softly, reeling you in effortlessly. “Well, perhaps your sister as well, just in case you attempt to murder me.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a soft giggle and bit your lip to keep from bursting into laughter. And though you were still surrounded by people surely itching to see you stumble and fall, you felt the rest of the ballroom fading away. As long as you kept looking at Colin, and he kept looking at you, there was nothing that could distract you. 

“I haven’t been in England that long, but I’m fairly certain murder is illegal here,” you quipped, smiling warmly at Colin for what was probably the first time.

“I’m fairly certain it’s illegal in every place I’ve been to, but I’m not so sure that would stop you,” he said back, a positively rakish smile on his face. But you were far too distracted by his mention of his travels to notice.

“You’ve traveled? Eloise hasn’t mentioned much,” you said curiously. 

“I’ve mostly traveled by myself,” he explained, now completely composed, previous stress forgotten, and finding himself enjoying your company. “My family doesn’t have the same penchant for adventure as me, so I usually set off on my own.”

You hummed thoughtfully. This, you hadn’t expected. Now you knew that you and Colin shared a love for travel, and it was a very unpleasant feeling, indeed. You had spent so long trying to distance yourself from him, and it was slightly disconcerting to know that the two of you had something in common. Especially something so embedded in who you were.

“Where was the last place you went to?”

“Greece,” he answered, smiling down at you. “I came back just before the season started. My mother was quite upset with me when she saw my tan.”

You laughed, perfectly picturing Violet’s hand over her chest as she saw her son after spending weeks in the sun. “You’re mad! If I had your kind of freedom, I certainly would not have stayed in England for as long as you have. Why haven’t you left since?”

“I- I’m not sure,” Colin answered. Why had he stayed so long? Usually, he liked to travel during the summer months, but he had stayed put so far and had no upcoming travel plans. “I suppose I am enjoying the season this year.” Was he really, though?

But you had already moved on to your next question. “The language is quite challenging, no? Did you learn at all? How long were you in Greece?”

Colin could have kissed you then and there. His family rarely showed interest in his travels, seldom responding to his letters, and once back in the ton, no one else bothered to inquire about his time abroad. Thus, he found himself pleasantly surprised by your curiosity, even if it was you—of all people—who displayed it.

As your conversation unfolded, Colin realized he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The effortless banter, combined with the tingling sensation that coursed through him whenever your hand grazed his neck, made him feel as though he were soaring high above the ballroom floor.

What if you had said yes that night at the Danbury ball? What if you had accepted his invitation to dance? Would it have felt as remarkable, as natural as this moment? Or was the allure of having you in his arms heightened simply because you had already rejected him?

Colin supposed he might have fallen for you that very night at the Danbury ball, had the circumstances been different. He could have seen himself, in a fit of romantic fervor, asking for your hand in marriage mere days afterward. Perhaps, then, it was lucky that you seemed to have an instant disdain for him. It likely spared him from acting the fool. Though truth be told, he often found himself behaving quite foolishly in your presence regardless.

As the dance ended, Colin found himself yearning to continue speaking with you. He grabbed your hand in his, feeling much more composed this time, and led you away from the dance floor. But he barely had time to turn back around to face you and continue your conversation before a trio of suitors came up and asked you to dance. Before he knew it, you were being swept away once more, this time on the arm of someone else. 

Colin congratulated himself on a job well done as he made his way back to where Eloise stood, deftly declining a gentleman's offer to dance. It was a triumph, he thought, that Colin had gone more than five minutes without arguing with you, and you had even laughed at something he said! It felt far better than whatever hostile rapport the two of you usually had.

“Thank you,” Eloise smiled gratefully at her brother. “Now, was that so difficult?” she added in a teasing tone. 

“I will have you know that yes, it was,” answered Colin stubbornly, but he knew he was lying even before the words came out of his mouth. Gliding across the dance floor with you in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Even now, as you twirled gracefully in the arms of another, Colin found himself not seething with jealousy as he might have expected, but rather in a state of awe. There was something enchanting about the sight of you, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Then, unexpectedly, your eyes met his over the shoulder of your current dance partner, and you bestowed upon him a heart-stopping smile, silently mouthing a 'thank you'. Colin had to feign a cough to cover up the giggle he had just let out. A giggle? From Colin Bridgerton, certified rake? What on Earth were you doing to him?

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[ihobbit]

I think Bilbo was the greatest treasure in Thorin’s life, and definitely more important than the Arkenstone. This is proven by his behavior immediately after the showdown on the ramparts. The shock of being betrayed by Bilbo was overwhelming. The closest, the most beloved, the one whom Thorin trusted ABSOLUTELY. Thorin is dressed in armor and armed, but the most important thing is that now he knows exactly where the stone is - it is in Bard’s pocket! If the Arkenstone really was that important to Thorin, he would attack immediately! But Thorin suddenly doesn’t care. From this point on we hear nothing more about the Arkenstone. He goes into the throne room and just sits there, filled with pain and resentment. We must understand that Thorin has a difficult fate and hard life, and Bilbo became a real salvation for his wounded soul. And now he feels that he has lost the only one that was really important to him. And of course it's not a stone.

[theold-ultraviolence]

ooooh how about something with jealous and protective aemond 🖤🖤

Shepherd of Fire • Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader • 18 +

Summary: Aemond gets possesive of his Lady wife after a guard keeps ogling at her. One night, he plans on making it clear to him whom she belongs to. CW: oral sex (f & m receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming, PIV sex. Exhibitionist kink kind of. Words: 3.5 K

A/N: JO! Thank you for dropping this thought, I seriously took it and ran with it lmao. This is pure filth with some plot. Disclaimer that I'm a GOT newbie so apologies if I'm a bit off with the lore and with my use of High Valyrian, literally used a translator app for it. As always, title comes from an A7X song.

Blood is replaced by vitriol in Aemond’s veins whenever he catches another ogling his wife.     

Don’t they know you’re his? Or do they wish to get a taste of his blade down their throats? 

Feel it slashing up their heads, for having turned it in your direction as you passed the hall in a light dress when the seasons warmed. 

Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows not to take their chances, to be respectful or else they’d witness, firsthand, the titanic wrath of Aemond Targaryen, that matches the potency of the flames that erupt from Vhagar’s fire breath. 

But this time, it’s some new guard – one whom Aemond hasn’t even cared to learn his name – sworn specifically to keep watch of the passageway that leads to your shared rooms. He’s quite young – younger than Aemond, even – with a full beard, broad shoulders and rugged facial features. Unlike Aemond, he has both of his eyes, bigger and brown, like that of the richest liquor.    

Those eyes are always wide and alert as they should, but their expressiveness gave away the thoughts that crossed his mind when he got a glimpse of the princess. Lust, pure and unabashed lust displayed on his widening pupils, making Aemond tighten his hold on your arm when you’d be passing by.

You’ve told Aemond not to fret, have proven your devotion and loyalty over and over, with the strength of your embrace and the urge and tenderness of your kisses, and the tight grip of the muscles of your core when he’s inside of you. You soothe the jealousy that might creep up on him given the guard’s handsome complexion, but that’s only a superficial concern. 

He knows it’s not you, he does not fear you might ever betray him. What keeps him awake at night — with his hearing sense heightened for a lack of a perfect vision, fixed on the sounds coming from behind the door — is the possibility that this bastard might try his luck and molest you. 

Aemond worries that one day he won’t be by your side when you walk to your quarters and the man will take full advantage of it, pull you to the side and do things he doesn’t want to imagine. While you’re no damsel in distress in the least, he knows what men of a certain caliber are capable of when provoked, even if they’ll never be able to rival Aemond’s own strength. 

As your husband, he swore to love and care for you, to protect you. 

He’s a watchful tower when it comes to his wife; sneering if he passes the guard, paralyzing him with a glare so intense it could kill. He should just rip both of his eyes and extinguish the hunger that should not be found there. 

For the man’s stare still lingers on you, despite it all.

His eyes wander around your breasts, before tentatively scurrying downwards to the hemline of your dress that brushes your calves. Aemond can tell, even if the guard remains still, he can tell that he’s salivating at the exquisite sight you make. 

One evening, Aemond finally snaps.  

You’re returning from a banquet, scheduled on the hottest day of the season, which prompted you to wear one of your more revealing dresses in order to withstand the heat throughout the length of the evening. By the time you return to your rooms, there’s a thin layer of sweat that makes your gorgeous skin glisten in a most enticing way. Aemond himself couldn’t wait to reach the marital bed and take you, but one look at the guard’s leer and all blood rushes in his system like an impending tide. 

He tightens his hold on your arm while defying the guard with his gaze. 

Aemond’s eye remains fixed and daring as he turns the lock of your bedroom door, gently ushers you in and lingers by the door frame with one final look at the man. 

“I expect you to keep a close watch.” He orders, in that soft but threatening tone of his. 

“As is my duty, your grace.” The guard nods courtly, though unease coils inside his gut when he meets Aemond’s wicked grin before the door is harshly shut in his face. 

Then, Aemond turns to you in a flash. 

His beauty, his darling Lady wife looks like a goddess, as you remove your dress in front of the fireplace, with your arms outstretched behind you to unclasp the cords that tighten it. Aemond’s on you immediately, gently pushing away your hands so he could finish the deed, revealing the line of your back that demands to be kissed. 

He’s peppering desperate kisses from the nape of your neck and down your spine while his hands settle on your hips. Each kiss gets bolder with a tease of his tongue as he reverently dotes on the valley between each shoulder blade. 

“Husband,” you sigh, “that feels wonderful…” you melt from his touch, arching your neck back to guide Aemond’s affections to it. 

The prince emits a low growl as he sucks on your earlobe, licks at the shell of your ear then quickly spins you around and pushes you to the bed’s edge, before kneeling, lifting and dropping you on top of it. 

“My, your grace, we’re in a different mood,” you squeal and tease, easily sliding the dress and everything else off of you. He smiles devilishly, staring at the plains of skin languidly draped along the satin sheets while mirrors you, deliberately unclasping each leather garment, until the last thing to be off is his eyepatch, leaving Aemond entirely bare before you. 

He pounces, capturing your lips in his to lick and nibble and bite all sloppily, when he’s usually more meticulous in this regard. 

Now he’s overcome with possessiveness. Messy and raw. 

He wants you all marked, wants to see your lips swollen and chin dripping with saliva that marks the trail that he takes down your jawline and to the side of your ear, to whisper in High Valyrian, “I want you to scream for me, as loudly as you can. I want everyone in this hallway, everyone in the vicinity, to know that you’re mine. I want them to know who’s making you scream, who ruins you and leaves you begging for more. I won’t stop until you’re a sobbing mess, my wife. You’re mine, my love.” 

“Mirre,” he growls, shivers alighting every centimeter of your skin, “ñuhon.”

He accentuates the word with a gentle bite to your neck and the tight press of him grinding his cock against you – rock solid and thick, already leaking precum down your leg. 

All Mine. 

Too soon in this game you’re a whining mess and all he had done was whispered huskily into your ear, with those delicious rolls of his tongue as he spoke in the language of his ancestors. 

Aemond is mad for you, but he doesn’t even imagine what monumental effect he has on you.

You’d move the stars if he asked. You kneel happily and willingly before him every time without him even having to command you to it. 

You’re grasping at his shoulders, seeking for something to hold on to as he becomes a hurricane of a man, roughly grabbing you by the meat of your thighs, dragging you to the center of the bed all bent up in half and settling in front of your cunt. 

He wastes no time in drinking you in, in lapping a firm line across your slit before his tongue dives deep inside of you and it twirls, and prods and curls, intent on coaxing every single drop that spurts from you to swallow down greedily, while his hands knead and squeeze your thighs, pressing them tightly to frame his face. 

Your toes curl, grazing the spot in between Aemond’s shoulders to edge him on, plead for him to keep going, and going, and going and never stop, not when his quiet grunts reverberate deliciously into your walls and you can’t help but fist the sheets, grab a handful of his hair or else you’re sure you’ll soar away from this bed. 

Aemond brings one thumb to press on your clit, two fingers to spread out your lips for him so he could latch his tongue to that sweet and sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Once his tongue finds that perfect interval of sucking and licking on it, his fingers slowly venture right inside your cunt – teasingly at first, but steadily inching deeper and deeper, knowing that he’s reached the perfect spot by the way your legs tense and a noose tightens around your neck that makes your moans and gasps become ragged.

He keeps going, increasing the pressure by the minute, the speed – ardently gazing at your figure unraveling. 

How your eyes scrunch shut and you go all silent and strained before one lengthy moan escapes from deep within your gut, and your hands desperately grasp the back of his head to keep him in place and support yourself as you cum. 

He starts chuckling, looking up at you.

“Aemond…” you mewl, mind blank except for the lingering pulses that still send bolts all over your nerves. “Husband, please…valzȳrys kostilus.” 

You want him close, want him on top of you. 

But Aemond is looking so sinfully at you. 

He’s looking as if he’s a shepherd of fire, here to guide the embers that are crackling within you into a powerful blaze. 

That impish smirk just widens for he goes in to greedily eat out your cunt once more, leaving no room to recuperate. 

Your eyes roll back, planting your feet on the bed as your hips lift desperately into an unstable bridge. 

He steadies you with one of his arms locked around your tummy while his opposite hand entwines itself with your own, determined to make you come again only using his mouth. 

And oh, he does, he does, he does.  

He’s never been one to not meet his resolutions. 

Always been a man that achieves his goals effortlessly. 

“Husband!” you hiccup, white knuckled and burning from inside out, sensations so heightened that you’re wiggling to get away if only for a quick break but he’s relentless. He’s snickering right into your cunt as he reigns you back in place and practically buries his face in the puddle that has become of you. 

He’s at it vigorously, akin to a starved man savoring his last meal on earth, wetly grumbling with pleasure at the taste, at the feel of you dripping endlessly. 

Until, quicker than expected, the fire rises once more and you yelp, “Aemond, please!” 

“That’s it, my love, keep going. Scream for me,” he grunts in High Valeryian – and Gods, the fucking sound of that tongue is enough to coax the orgasm to throb into the third one. 

You’re one body aflame — vision going black and voice having been burnt a while ago, leaving your mouth agape around a silent scream. 

And he doesn’t even let a second pass. 

He slides his hand off of yours to fuck two fingers into your cunt again in a tantalyzing pace, so slowly dragging the pleasure out to drive you wild.

“No, no, no, husband — Aemond!” you shriek, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” you blabber and sob into your pillow, stretching away from him like a cat would. “Daor, Aemond!” 

But he’s as untamable as a dragon is, no matter what language you use. 

His fingers keep digging, loving but firm and insistent, adding a third one and curling upwards while quickening the speed of his wrist. 

Suddenly everything in the whole room gets hazy, and the obscene sound of your squelching cunt and Aemond’s heaving breath seems amplified, echoing like the ripples that build at the pit of your stomach once more. 

The last orgasm has you feeling like you're flying across the skies on top of Vaghar – suspended in Westeros’ skyline, yet secured on the saddle, safe because you’re always enveloped around Aemond’s body when you ride his dragon with him. You reach the highest point in the sky to then free fall and crash down into an ocean of bliss.   

Aemond carefully detaches from you with one soft kiss to your clit; your throat is so hoarse now that all you can do is take one big inhale of breath that you let out with a frail whimper, and your legs give out and tumble down away from his shoulders. 

He kisses his way back up, all along your drenched body, reaching the galloping pulse point in your neck to soothe it gingerly. 

You tighten your hold around his shoulders and kiss him – all lazy licks from how exhausted you’ve become – and he has the gal to smirk and laugh right into your mouth. 

“What –” you try to speak, all breathy and tired but grinning after such a thorough fuck,  “what was that about?” 

“Do I need an excuse to ravage my wife?” he grumbles, but by the way there’s still some tension in his shoulders, you know there’s more to it than he lets on. 

You massage his shoulders, cradle the side of his face and tuck a strand of silver hair over his ear – his half-ponytail hairstyle was no more with how you’d yanked at his locks all throughout. 

All tamed with how your fingers brush his hair, his head nuzzles the crook of your neck, turns slightly towards the door on the wall opposite your bed and you know. 

The guard. 

You use his tactic against him, you use his ancient tongue to whisper all sultrily, “You needn’t worry, my husband. But if we’re playing this game, why don’t we show whose cock is the only one I want. Who’s the only man I get on my knees for?” 

His eyes widen, length twitching against your leg, all ruddy and thick, looking as if he was about to burst by your words alone. You softly push him off of you by the shoulders, onto his back, quickly settling between his legs and drooling at the sight of Aemond. 

All that power, all that might. Such a massive man, willing and spread like the most lavish feast before you. 

You never break eye contact as you lick your lips, press one hand down on the toned surface of his abs, stroke the coarse patch of hair that marks a path from his belly button to his cock – while the other takes the base of him, and leads his leaking tip right into your mouth. 

“Hīghagon, husband.” 

You moan, all wanton and debauched and urge him to do the same thing he’d asked of you earlier. 

 Scream for me.  

Aemond’s never been vocal in bed – or generally in life – but you want him to scream for you, just like you had for him.

You want him to scream as he uses you to fuck himself with your mouth, and groan so loudly at the sound of you gagging on his throbbing cock. 

Though he bucks his hips into your mouth more roughly by the second, though you're moaning like a brothel whore as you come up and down and hollow out your cheeks and slobber all over him, he still seeks out your hand that had been resting on his navel and grips it firmly, earning you a loving smile when you come up for air. 

“Hīghagon, Aemond,” you mewl before you suck on him again, before you lick the underside of his head with your tongue in tight, teasing circles until his muscled legs tense and arch, until he’s a growling mess, grabbing you by the crown of your head to push you further down so your nose is all pressed up in his pubic hair while your throat contracts around him.  

“My love, stop…” he wheezes, fighting the internal urge in him to cum in your mouth when he’d plan all along to last the whole night.

“Stop…” he murmurs lovingly, guiding you off of him. 

You detach with one crude pop, seductively licking at the string of precum that spurts from his head, before excitedly climbing on top of him and showing him just how good he tastes as you lick into his mouth with a pleased humm. 

You both take one moment to come down from your shared high, just kissing one another – muscles pliant, exchanging breaths and caresses and sweet nothings whispered between kisses. 

His wandering hands skim your sides, settling on your lower back while you continue to kiss. 

And soon, those greedy fingers reach your ass, fondling it and squeezing it, using it to press your cunt against his cock and start gently rocking you against him. Just grinding, not entering you yet. 

Just warming yourselves up, enjoying the closeness and the contrast in texture – him, all hefty and veiny, against your soft, puffy lips. It’s intoxicating, and his absolute favorite feeling in the world. 

“Avy jorrāelan, Aemond,” you sigh as you take the initiative to grab him and lead his tip into you, slowly sitting on his cock while his hands stroke your sides up and down encouragingly, reaching to fondle your breasts while he kisses your neck.

I love you. 

It makes him yearn, even if he has you right here with him. 

He’ll never stop yearning for you. 

Will never stop aching to feel as close as possible to you. 

He’s so overcome by it that he can only nod feverishly and hold on to you so you’ll know that he means to say it, but words have always managed to flee from the tip of his tongue when he needs them the most. 

It doesn’t matter though, he shows you – lavishing your neck with kisses until they travel to your tits and broadly lick and suck each of them zealously. 

Then he just grunts as you start to ride him. 

Slowly, so slowly building up to it, using this round as an active break. You arch your back to elongate the lines of your body, lines that he follows with his hands as they seek hold on your plump breasts. 

The movement of your hips is careful, tentative. Circular motions that serve more to bask in the feeling of his massive length inside of you than to climax immediately. And Aemond looks so ruined and blissed out beneath you that you can’t help but bend – at the same time that he rises up – and meet him halfway in a passionate kiss. 

A sinful part of you hopes that the guard will hear the more quiet, wet noises and infer that you’re just kissing. You hope he’ll know that what you share is a stronger bond than what he’s able to imagine. Stronger than just the brute strength that a guard possesses due to physical training. 

You’re obsessed with your husband, as he is with you. 

And no one will ever, ever come between you. 

With renowned motivation, Aemond suddenly manhandles you on your back and hoists your legs up on his shoulders, thrusting inside of you swiftly. 

You huff out a laugh and bite your lip, framing Aemond’s face between your hands and exclaiming, “Harder, husband. Go harder!” 

He smiles and growls as he quickens up the pace, pistoning in with an unforgiving rhythm that has you half laughing deliriously -  half moaning. “Kessa, Aemond!” 

Yes, yes, yes, you’re screams reach a higher pitch with each thrust while your nails claw at his back savagely, wishing to leave your mark on his body just like he’d done with yours, as you’re sure you’ll be walking around the court trying to hide the hickeys that will bloom as soon as you’re finished. 

Good. Let them see. Let them all see. 

But that comes tomorrow. 

Right now, what matters is that they hear. 

Your cries are feral: wails augmenting in pitch the harder he fucks you, while his groans just get deeper and more resonant. 

Yes, yes, yes, the mountain’s peak is right there, and you let Aemond now by digging your fingernails deeper into his taut flesh, by clenching around his cock with forceful pulses. 

It hurts so good it makes you weep. 

And that’s before his thumb finds his way to your clit. 

Then you’re really seeing stars – your screeching is no longer just for show. That’s just your response to the way it feels as though Aemond has touched you with a vibrant torch that lights all over your body as quickly as a forest fire does, leaving nothing untouched in its wake. 

You barely register the moment he slips out of you, grunting as he gives his cock the last vicious pumps that soon paint the expanse of your stomach with his cum.

“Ñuha ābrar…” he whispers, “my life. All mine.” 

“Fuck, Aemond,” You sigh into each other’s mouths, grinning all stupidly in love and endlessly pleased. “You think he heard?” You snicker while sweetly pecking Aemond’s lips, face all cradled in your touch as he remains on top of you. 

“I’m sure everyone in the Red Keep did.” 

And it’s precisely what he wanted. 

When, in the middle of the night, he slithers from your chambers to ask a handmaiden to refill his jug of water, the sight of the Guard –  standing by his post all jittery and  drained of color  – fills up his chest with unadulterated pride.  

And it’s not long after that, that the man resigned from his post. 

And after that, he was never to be heard of again throughout the whole of King’s Landing. 

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Baki Headcanons (II)

Featuring Jack Hanma, Kaoru Hanayama, Katsumi Orochi and Chiharu Shiba since the latest Baki season is out. TW: Violence, dubious consent

[Baki Masterlist] [Part I]

Jack Hanma

Once Jack finds a purpose or a goal to achieve, he will hunt it down in deplorable mania with no regard to any impediment along the way. He’s deemed you to be his newfound motivation and minor details such as your opinion of it are but a slight detour. He’s already had one dream robbed from him - that of being the strongest. He’s not as generous as to accept yet another loss. Really, (Y/N), why so afraid? He promises you won’t regret it.

Outside of his obsessive tendencies, Jack is rather kind and understanding. He pays great attention to detail when it comes to you and is willing to go to great lengths for your sake. Being a servant on the knee is a small price to pay if he gets to see your satisfied expression. What a strange effect you have on him. To think that his pride immediately crumbles at your feet…No, it’s the other way around. It’s because of you that he can keep his head up, no matter what.

Jealousy or possessiveness are not things that plague Jack. His mere presence is enough to signal loud and clear that you’re not to be approached. Like a wild animal guarding his territory, he finds intruders a warm-up sport to entertain himself with and nothing more. But what if, say, it was you trying to get out instead? Now that would be just plain nonsense. No one else can guarantee your safety to such degree. You must be confused, and in situations like these Jack has no choice but to bring you back to your senses. Regardless of what it takes.

I have to say, if you choose Jack as your boyfriend you should definitely brace yourself. He has vowed to shield you from all threats, but his love for you doesn’t count as one. The fact that you’re laying there bruised all over further shows how intoxicating you are to him. His brain turns into mush and the only thing he can focus on is that you belong entirely to him. He could crush you, break you, kiss you until your lips bleed, hold you until your ribs crack. He holds the power over you and you have willingly offered this vulnerability to him. He doesn’t expect you to hold back, either. He is yours to mark as you please.

He will return to his senses and apologize for the vicious, feral attack during intimacy. He is a man of instinct and logic rarely prevails when dealing with temptations. And you, darling (Y/N), happen to be the strongest drug he’s ever dealt with.

Kaoru Hanayama

Hanayama is initially very conflicted about his feelings. Has he not sworn to dedicate himself entirely to the Family? What kind of puny leader loses focus in the middle of an important agreement between clans to think of a normal civilian? What kind of respected kumichou asks his subordinates to take a detour in their debt collection to check on some regular human? Here he is, sitting between the women working for his business, reluctant to touch them in fear of being disloyal. To whom? You don’t even know him and he’s already built an entire code of honor to follow. Shameful.

It doesn’t take him too long to rationalize his inexplicable attachment. Just like his father had found his mother, he too was bound to stumble upon someone for him, a partner fit to bear the weight of the family honor. He isn’t betraying his Group, he’s providing it with an equally capable leading hand. Oh, he just knows you’ll do great. You were made for this. You were made for him.

Confessing to you is a difficult task. Hanayama usually conveys his feelings with his fists, and he’d rather not pummel you down as the sweet “will you date me” invitation. So you’ll often find him staring intently at you, a frightening aura surrounding him. Any moment now, he’ll say it. And what if you respond with no? He hasn’t considered that. He’s been so entranced by your future together that he didn’t even entertain the idea you wouldn’t want to be part of it. Small obstacle, you just need a little bit of convincing.

He’s not the type to show his jealously, mainly because there’s no need to. If someone flirts with you, you’re not worried for Hanayama’s feelings but for this stranger’s safety. You’ll choke in terror trying to warn them to step away and if they still persist you know you’ll never see them again. One does not mess with the yakuza and lives to tell about it. Hanayama further contributes to this reputation.

The young man is very much aware of your fragility and would never do anything to permanently damage you. That said, he really can’t help the dizzying adoration that overwhelms him whenever he uses his knife on you. Just small, superficial lines gently tracing across your body, that immediately bloom into bright red flowers, cluttering along until they finally burst into an intricate mosaic. He feels like a poet penning his love for you in the most intimate way conceivable, because you’ve offered yourself as a canvas for his eyes and his control only. The Madonna of his existence.

Katsumi Orochi

Katsumi wouldn’t say that he’s taking it too far. He followed all the proper steps, from the innocent secret crush, to shyly confessing his feelings, and finally the drunken delight of hearing your acceptance to date him. There’s nothing wrong with skipping some steps. There’s no textbook claiming that love has to be gradual and evolve in time. If you know you’ve met your soulmate there’s no reason to hold back. And from the moment he laid his eyes on you he’s been certain, this was not mere coincidence.

He’s clumsier than he’d like to admit when it comes to romance, but one thing his extensive karate training has provided him with is discipline. He has a little notebook to keep track of your interests and likes, and if he’s completely clueless about something he will research it later. It helps him keep his plans organized and simultaneously make sure he won’t miss any detail about you.

It he thinks about it, love is a lot like karate indeed. A natural charm for it can hardly compete with raw passion and hard work. Step by step, he can see the fruits of his labor. Martial arts require a cool mind however, and while he’s learned to remain collected and act without haste in a fight, when it comes to you he can’t seem to remain still. His thoughts are burning hot and erratic and the tangled chaos in his head is exhausting. He wishes he could lay out his love for you and carefully smoothen all the folds, but maybe the inability to do so just further proves you’re a special case.

He also doesn’t consider himself to be a jealous individual. Right? In the middle of his training he finds himself idly pondering about such a scenario. He faces the wall, trying to picture a rival that might steal you from him. Silly. You wouldn’t leave him like that. You know how much he loves you. Or do you? He loves you so much. So much. So fucking much. His vision returns and his eyes widen at the large dents and cracks he left in the wall. The skin of his fists is throbbing, irritated.

Katsumi is rather needy during intimate moments. Whether you want him as your dominant or submissive accomplice, he will beg or demand for your words of love. Let him know that you don’t belong to anyone else. That you’re all his, forever and ever and even after death. Always.

Chiharu Shiba

Chiharu is an extremely stubborn man, so if he concludes that he has feelings for you, absolutely no rejection will get through to him. He doesn’t just fall for anyone and isn’t as shallow as to base his interest on appearance alone (though he did almost crash his bike once daydreaming about your face). It’s everything about you that’s convinced him there’s no one else for him. So now he just has to prove that similarly, no one else is better for you.

I feel like he would use his sturdiness and resistance to pain as a way to manipulate you into agreeing with him. You’re unsure whether you like him more than a friend? Is it because he’s not skilled enough? You don’t trust him? He’ll pick random fights with anyone and no matter how battered and bloodied he is, no matter how much you plead he stops, he’ll keep going until he’s dead or until you give in.

It’s his personality to show off. From the flashy bosozoku uniform to his customized retro Kawasaki, he likes to make it clear to others where his priorities lay. That includes his partner, of course. Not only is he the proud leader of Tokkoutai, but more importantly the one you belong to. If he’s feeling extra cheesy he will greet you with a dramatic spin and reveal he had his jacket stitched to some kanji symbols representing your relationship.

Chiharu is not particularly proud of it, but his bouts of jealousy often end in violence. Potential rivals lead him on a downward spiral of anxious what-ifs. He struggles with a certain feeling of inadequacy whenever he compares himself to other fighters. Put him next to someone like Baki and he fades into nothingness; No elaborate fighting skills, just a hard skull and a bunch of dirty tricks. Will that be enough to protect you from anyone? For how long? Before he knows it, his knuckles are dyed red and whoever approached you too fondly is scattered on the ground.

Safe to say this man has a lot of stamina and will be at your service 24/7. Anytime, anywhere. Just let him know. Feeling especially needy? He’ll throw you on the hood of the nearest car and just take care of you regardless of who’s watching. You’re strongly considering keeping a spray water bottle in your bag to keep him under control when you’re in public.

Despite all this he is very soft spoken and careful around you. He would never, ever hurt his precious darling (Y/N). And he won’t allow anything else to hurt you, either. He would die for you. Actually, scratch that. He’ll do you one better. He would kill for you.

[lunarmoonanons]

Thorns

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Tyanna tries to convince Maegor that his wife is having an affair but he doesn’t believe and has her punished for slander.

Prequel to Wilted Rose

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

Maegor liked to possess his wives. He showed affection in an overbearing way. Love came with a hand around the throat. Each of his wives felt the overwhelming imposing nature that was Maegor’s affection. But among the wives, there was his favorite: YN. 

At first there were three wives, then YN came to Maegor’s life. Then there were four. Until Ceryse died, and once again there were three. For a time Maegor was content with his wives. But when YN provided children and Alys did not, there was a growing impatience with the Harroway woman. All the while Tyanna whispered in the king’s ear. Alys felt immense jealousy when it came to YN and her children, wanting desperately to provide the king with her own son. 

At the moment YN had only given the king three children. Alys soured when she saw YN’s months old children. But soon Alys’ prayers would be answered. The king was pleasantly surprised when Alys gave him the news, even turning his ear away from Tyanna as he gave Alys affection. He was glad to have another child and finally one from Alys. 

Unlike YN, Alys accepted the teas that the dark woman offered during her pregnancy. YN did not let the witch anywhere near her body or her children, but Alys saw that Tyanna had healed Maegor once and now she was giving her healing brews and remedy’s. 

As the months ticked by, YN became pregnant once again and Alys’ stomach grew from the child. Yet the birth was not a happy occasion. The babe was an eyeless stillborn monstrosity. Maegor was furious. Killing all who attended the birth save for Tyanna and Alys’ sisters. 

From there Tyanna whispered more and more into the ear of the King till eventually her whispers turned Maegor on Alys. YN was seven months pregnant when Alys and her whole family were murdered. YN knew it was the work of the witch, and forbade Maegor’s wife from her birthing chamber and from her children. Though Tyanna never betrayed any feeling of jealousy or anger at the woman. 

When YN gave birth to two twin boys, she had to remain on bedrest which separated Maegor from his wife whom he began to cherish more than any of his others. Tyanna saw this as her move. Her chance to remove another obstacle in her way. When Maegor was alone in his room she struck.

“My lord.” She was slippery with her words. Coming up behind him as he stared at the fire. 

“Speak.” He was tired and didn’t want more whispers in his ears. 

“I have unfortunate information. In regards to your dear wife, YN.” Tyanna trailed her fingertips over his shoulders. 

Maegor grunted but made no move to shove her away. So Tyanna continued and placed her cold hand to the back of his neck, fingernails lightly scraping the soft flesh. 

“My lord. She is unfaithful. She has given her body to others. I fear your two new children are not yours-” What she was going to say she could not finish as Maegor had turned suddenly and wrapped his rough hand around her throat squeezing tightly. 

“You snake. You witch. Do you take me for a fool?” Maegor spat. 

“My lord.” 

“I know every move she makes. I watch her constantly.” Maegor brought his lips to her ear. “As I watch you. I see your jealous eyes. I see your scheming steps.”

“Have I not proven one of your wives to be a treacherous woman? I gave you the Harroway girl.” Tyanna choked. 

“You step high above your station if you think I will be easily swayed against her. I know her every move, and I can have your black tongue severed for your slander against her.” Maegor snarled and threw the woman to the ground. Landing a swift and hard kick to her stomach. “Be grateful I let you live. But should you speak against her again, I will have your tongue for that.”

Tyanna showed no weakness. She merely stood up and walked out of the room. Clearly Maegor favored his Tyrell wife dearly and would not be turned against her. No matter, she would weave her web around Maegor till he choked. 

Maegor left his room and went into his children’s chambers. He knew with absolute certainty that his favorite wife would never turn to others. She was too frightened of him to do that. He held his rose within a tight overbearing grip.

[princessjojo-x]

TaurusVenus ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

💝 taurus is represented by the bull so he doesn’t like being perceived as the delicate type (even though he very much is). others often consider him as reserved, private & mysterious bc he doesn’t expend much energy towards strangers, he’s cautious of new people & he doesn’t like talking just for the sake of it. others are aware his energy & time is valuable which makes him even more enticing.

💝 out of all the venus signs, he’s the least likely to experience love at first sight bc he takes awhile to warm up to new people. he takes his sweet time when forming bonds & he prefers to build rxships steadily. he is definitely a slow burner & he wont change his pace for anybody. he’s slow-moving & hesitant in the process of love due to the intensity of his love & level of devotion he has to offer. it’s so hard for him to let go of those whom he lets in so he needs to be completely certain & guaranteed before letting his guard down.

💝 he can be a little secretive, especially regarding sensitive topics. he doesn’t want others to know much abt him but he will open up in comfortable & stable atmospheres. if he does show his his vulnerable side to you & you turn out to betray him, it will hold a lot of weight & he will struggle to recover.

💝 amongst all the venus signs he has the easiest love life bc he’s very wise in regards to rxships even if he’s never been in one before. he doesn’t mind waiting for a good & dependable partner to enter his life bc he’s very patient. he wont date a woman unless she ticks his boxes & treats him properly. he may like or lust for multiple women throughout his life but he’s likely to only fall in love once.

💝 he is very attractive due to the laidback temperament he projects; his comforting & predictable presence makes others feel at ease & safe.

💝 initially, it may be difficult to distinguish whether he’s into you or not. even if he is attracted to you he might not act on it bc he knows you will come to him one way or another. you know he likes you when he’s being extra warm & fuzzy with you or constantly sharing & offering things with you.

💝 he may seem calm but he has a lot of passions & feelings boiling beneath the surface. once he’s warmed up to you, you’ll see a completely different side to him. he’s sensual, sentimental, devoted, reliable, non judgmental & romantic to those closest to him. his affections are stable, secure & permanent. he’s undoubtedly an honourable lover & friend. he always makes his partner feel seen & appreciated bc of the compassion & care he surrounds her with. he’ll even refrain from arguing with her bc he wont want to spoil the atmosphere. he’ll try his best to ensure she is taken care of emotionally & physically. he wants to see her indulge in sensual pleasures & will happily chip in there too (good food, nice clothes, etc). ensure to show your gratitude & he’ll be loyal to the end.

💝 hes not afraid of commitment & he has traditional expectations regarding rxships. he’ll set strict values & rules for himself; for example, not allowing himself to make prolonged eye contact with other women or not contacting other women without informing his partner. however, some women may view these traits as boring, slow & outdated. during matters of love, his partner will need to give in to him at times bc he won’t readily give in to her. after all, he’s a bull, stubborn asf, to the point of being unmovable.

💝 since he has a steady self esteem, he’s not easily threatened by outside forces. however, he is territorial & protective over his possessions bc he takes good care of them & has a fear of losing them. he can act this way with his food, his space & even his loved ones. he may limit his partners freedom by being possessive & controlling in covert ways. at best, he is protective & territorial over her. at worst, he is obsessive & addicted to her. he will value his partner highly, treating her as a possession & a prized object (trophy wifey). he views his partner as an extension of himself & wants his partner to come under his wing where it’s safe. he’s the type to carry you over a puddle or hold your umbrella.

💝 unfortunately all venus signs have the potential to cheat but it’s definitely unlikely for taurus venus. he wouldn’t want to risk losing the routine & stability of a rxship just for a random affair. however, if he perceives a lack of commitment, physical touch, deeper intimacy or emotional unavailability from his partner, this will make him feel insecure, trigger his fears of abandonment & ultimately be the main culprit to why he’d ever cheat. not to mention, if he has other placements in air or fire elements, it will add a great deal of restlessness, despite the intent of earthy taurus to stay loyal.

💝 since he loves so deeply & has such a fear of change, it takes him awhile to give up on rxships, especially bc he feels his best when in a secure rxship. he may stay in expired rxships & be reluctant to start over bc of his need of security, familiarity & predictably. it’s very difficult for him to let go of anything or anyone that holds meaning & value to him bc it correlates to his purpose of living. he settles for people he has deep attachment with even though he knows there are better options elsewhere. attachment generates an adrenaline within him & he refuses to let go even when it’s being taken away. he is similar to his sister sign scorpio in this sense. but scorpio holds on tight to control & possess. whereas taurus holds on tight to hoard & collect.

💝 however, taurus placements don’t forgive or forget anything. at best, he will punish his partner by withdrawing from her temporarily or permanently. at worst, he’ll be relentlessly stubborn in his pursuit of revenge. his patient & methodical approach ensures a carefully planned retaliation. but it does takes a lot for him to reach this point due to his tolerant & patient nature.

💝 his self esteem is generally steady, he has a realistic opinion of his worth & he doesn’t depend on others to define him. he can be quite vain & enamored with himself. however, in the beginning of his life he likely had difficulty with feeling secure & would’ve often compared himself to mental aesthetics or others looks. but once he has a solid grasp on what makes him valuable, nothing can shake his confidence.

💝 he’s likely a homebody who sleeps & eats a lot since he values routine, stability, comfort & safety. he likely eats the same foods & listen to the same songs due to his reluctance to change. he perceives lounging as a rejuvenating sensory experience (comfy clothes, soft bed, calming candles, tasty snacks).

Turn On’s:

💝 he wants safety, stability & predictability in rxships bc he lacked this during childhood. he wants the security that his partner will stick around & provide. he chooses partners & friends who are self-contained bc that’s what he strives to be. he prefers a women with calm demeanours instead of aggressive or in-your-face personalities. she is able to keep her life grounded & stable materially, emotionally or mentally. she has a solid plan for her life, no matter if it's big or small. she definitely knows the power of planning ahead & taking well calculated actions. for example, she has everything he would ever need, in her purse (especially food). talk to him abt your financial goals & include him in your plan for the future.

💝 he wants his partner to prove to him that she’ll add value to his life. his materialistic tendencies can sometimes overshadow emotional components of a rxship, leading him to value tangible items or status symbols over genuine connections. he loves being surrounded by gifts & luxury. he’s attracted to products of high quality & durability. he loves when people put a lot of thought in when buying/making him gifts. he values sentimental things that you can’t just buy anywhere. he likes to know you really pay attention to their interests compared to just getting something name branded or a gift card. he dislikes cheap & tacky products with clashing colours. he is willing to spend a lot of money on himself.

💝 someone else making him feel more comfortable will be the main culprit for why he may leave you. stability & safety is very important to him so promise him a cozy & comfy time. after all, taurus rules the senses so think abt lighting, candles, aromatherapy, lingerie, etc.

💝 his love language: holding & cuddling one another, just sharing personal space with his partner, cooking meals together, heart-to-heart conversations, being reminded of his worth, being pampered & spoiled, nice scents (perfume)

💝 he prefers to be pursued instead of persuing others. he wants to feel completely adored & desired by his partner everyday. she needs to emphasise her loyalty to him & his worth to her. he has powerful need for tangible expression & presence of affection. she’ll have his heart forever once she’s achieved that.

💝 he loves a sophisticated, respectful & well mannered woman who’s attached a very high value to herself (without being boastful or dramatic). she has a soft but stubborn side to her, she can take control when needed & she has aligning views to him.

💝 in a nutshell, he seeks a partner who is: successful, fancy, generous, affectionate, warm, sensual, passionate, possessive, natural, beautiful, feminine, easy going, understanding, calm, down to earth, predictable, reliable, committed & most importantly consistent.

💝 he is very sensitive & responsive to my physical touch, he will smile & shiver delight. when you rub or run your hands across his body it feels like electricity to him. if you regret his cuddles & kisses bc you’re not in the mood for touch, he will take it personally & he will feel hurt.

💝 to impress him, dress in earth tones (beige & khaki), look expensive as he loves luxury, dress comfortably as taurus is a sensual sign & wear minimal makeup as he likes natural beauty.

Turn Off’s:

💝 he’ll be eager to cut you off if you bring too much drama & trouble into his life; eg if he notices you purposely trying to make him jealous or uncomfortable, if you live a very chaotic & unstable life, if you’re an unpredictable & overly-aggressive person. he’s a venusian after all so craves he peace around him.

💝 he dislikes partners who are immature, fake & frivolous (not having any serious value or purpose).

💝 he feels turned off by anyone who brings any form of change or newness into his life. he won’t like you trying to rush or force him into anything. it’s important to ease him into new things. taurus placements have neophobia (irrational fear for anything unfamiliar). they like things staying the same bc it gives them a sense of peace & stability. he will run away from anyone who challenges this perspective. he wants to stay in his own bubble & will not want anyone to burst it in anyway.

💝 hes threatened by fast-paced & high-energy situations in the context of love including excess displays of emotions & drama when it comes to simple conversations. he may even feel over crowded by too much chatter.

💝 distant parents who try to play games with him rather than growing up & committing (same for all earth venus) including still talking to an ex.

💝 rejecting his offerings, date ideas or any physical touch.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The Sydcarmy dynamic

I just had this chat with OOMF and whilst I've been posting about Carmy because it's easier for me to get into his headspace, I never really went over their dynamic before here. I definitely have in my fics and while watching and re-watching the show for the past 3 months. Because that's how long it's been since I discovered The Bear, 3 months only, I started watching it on New Year's Eve while I was getting dressed to go to this party and by January 1st I had finished S2. That's what this show did to my head.

So, let's get into it!

From my perspective, the Sydcarmy choreography is the following:

The real Carmy is this aloof guy who only REALLY listens to Syd when she's distressed. And only then he gets his shit together for her.

He pushes all her buttons first (when he's the distressed one, he shuts down, he changes the rules).

And only then he behaves for a while, to get on her good side again. But then the real Carmy strikes again. And it’s an endless cycle of push and pull.

However, Syd secretly enjoys this because she sees this as:

"Awww he’s willing to change for me, for us ❤️".

“He’s shitty but he’s also trying and imma help him! Awww”.

And she’s right. He is trying and he can certainly be shitty.

And he is changing because of her, because of them. That's his arc.

And he pays her back by being the only person other than her father with whom she can be her vulnerable self.

She doesn’t allow herself to be truly vulnerable with anyone else.

She can let go of her G Woman mask in front of him knowing that he will never use that against her. Ever. That’s why they help each other.

They support each other in this journey of him being less shitty and she being more vulnerable. That is what makes them stronger. They are stronger together and that is why things fall apart when they are not together and that is why they will keep coming back to each other no matter how far apart they drift at different points of this journey. They will always gravitate towards one another because they "existentially" need and choose each other to grow. They basically push each other in the right direction. That is why they acknowledged that they make each other better. They are finally getting themselves to admit it! YAY! That's progress.

Their relationship is not based on love, respect, or even friendship but on trust. The rest comes later for them, as a consequence of the latter.

That’s why they are loyal to each other and when Claire was around Syd felt betrayed.

It wasn't jealousy. Not all of it, it was more than that.

It was loyalty, territorial loyalty.

She doesn’t wanna share because that threatens his loyalty, not necessarily because she’s jealous of Claire. She also feels jealousy, yes, but not consciously, anyway... because she is nowhere ready to admit yet that she has feelings for Carmy in a way a business partner shouldn't. She's not there yet. And he has recently gotten to that point, after the panic attack. So, basically, they are not there yet. I go over that here.

What Syd didn't know and it's a game changer, btw, was that Carmy was never “loyal” to Claire. He was just with Claire as a sublimation. Let me explain:

He was projecting. All the things he didn't allow himself to feel or do with Syd, he was projecting onto Claire.

That’s why at first he was reticent but when he realized he could do this with Claire, he was game! And finally, let Claire in. She had to fight her way in, he wasn't necessarily inviting at first. We all know how that turned out though... Not his brightest moment.

Now Carmy is ahead of the curve, compared to Sydney. He already had his realization/Eureka! moments during and post-panic attack and the walk-in moment, both catalytic.

Syd on the other hand, has a longer way to go in terms of self-awareness. That's why on the surface she seems to be keeping things more together. She is, for now. But she will have her walk-in moment too or some kind of trigger that will force her to deal with what she's been burying under a pile of excuses and rationalizations that serve her status-quo purposes, as mere defense mechanisms. Because the change will not come willingly, it will be forced and it probably won't be pretty.

They have that in common and it's also part of their dynamic → Taking things to a breaking point before moving forward, before LETTING IT RIP.

[rachetmath]

 Okay, I know some people might be mad at me, but I stand by this. Volumes seven and eight were the most horrible volumes to me. Many you would say because of Ironwood and how the heroes betrayed him. And I would say, “Yes. That is absolutely the reason.” However, that is not the only reason I hate those volumes, especially with nine.

Ren and Oscar:

Ren and Oscar were the MVP s of volumes seven and eight. In volume seven, Ren was concerned with lying to James and was more worried about the people's safety. He became the most emotional in the group and started acting somewhat critical to the point he lashed out at Nora, Yang, and Jaune. This causes Nora to become somewhat distant from him and Jaune to be a little disappointed, especially after mentioning he cheated Beacon. However, after a little talk with Jaune and yelling at Harriet, Ren semblance evolves to where he can read emotions.

Oscar, who was willing to trust James when Ruby, for reasons, didn’t. Who openly told James the truth about Salem, then gets shot for it. Then gets found by his friends and immediately gets taken by Salem’s forces. He then persuades Hazel to betray Salem and gets Emerald on the side of good.

Here’s the problem, Ren didn’t do anything. Like, he didn’t try to fill James in on anything. He stood by his friends and still carried out the lie. And then his evolution really was unnecessary and wasn’t well-earned. And many of you might say, “But he earned it by standing up to Harriet. And it helped them in some way.” Okay, but hears the thing. First off, Harriet was going to hurt Ren if Winter didn’t stop her. And second, his semblance wasn’t even that useful in finding Oscar.

Now Oscar, he just overstayed his welcome. He somehow persuaded Hazel to betray Salem… Even though he is the reincarnation of the man he hates. He gave away the information to Hazel, who was ordered to collect that intel by Salem, which Hazel got mad at Oscar about afterward. But what did he offer Hazel to make him switch sides, considering Ozpin still can’t kill her? Why offer the last question to him? He already knows everything.

 And then Emerald, whom he met once and tried to kill Ruby in Heaven, Oscar managed to get her to join the hero side. Why? Why would the characters who not only met Emerald but were betrayed by her and Cinder be willing to trust her? Because Oscar says so? And what makes it worse is Ren agrees to it first because of his evolution. The reason it doesn’t make sense to me is because it’s coming from the wrong characters. Which brings me to my next problem.

Jaune and Nora:

Mainly, Jaune was my issue. However, we will talk about Nora first. Mainly on how the writers gave her the Jaune treatment. Nora was more concerned for the people of Mantle, while Ren was concerned for the entire world. This is due to Nora’s backstory where she was poor, parentless, and alone on the streets. Nora knew exactly how the people were feeling. So you would think out all the characters, she would most likely side with Robyn. Maybe even so far as to tell her what’s going on. But then it was Yang and Blake. Even though Yang was completely against lying to Ironwood and was calling Ruby out on it. (But hey, bumblebee matters.) Then what made Nora's coming out party even more hollow is she leaves Mantle to her teammates, while she goes back to Atlas with the majority of team RWBY, only to be knocked unconscious for half of volume eight. All while thinking about only Ren.

Jaune got it the worst though. Not just with the fact that he had to kill Penny even though he trained with his semblance and probably the most innocent and cool headed person on the group. But as I said before, a lot of Ren and Oscar's actions were pointless - no, didn't make sense because they fit Jaune’s character more.

Look, I said this before, but Jaune has no reasons to trust James. Not only because of Leon’s betrayal but Ozpin whose secrets came to light. Jaune had his trust broken two times. By Headmasters, no less. And you may say, “Ironwood gave Jaune and his friends their licensees early. And a place to stay.” True enough, however, Jaune knows Salem exists. James is trying to keep her a secret until Amity Arena is ready for launch. Who's to say he’s not giving them their licenses and a place to stay to keep an eye on them? (However, that’s not true. Considering Ironwood as we have seen has done nothing wrong to them.) That’s something for Jaune to consider. And even though he could feel sorry for the citizens of Mantle, that doesn’t mean he would fully trust Robyn either, due to her methods causing more harm than good. (The only reason anyone would side with Robyn is that she is a better choice than Jacque. Plus, why do we just see Yang argue about this? Why would Jaune agree to something that he almost hurt Oscar for?)

Basically, Jaune should have been the middle man from the start of volume seven, and in volume eight he brings everyone together. In volume seven, we could’ve had Jaune struggling due to having to help Atlas and Mantle as a huntsman while training to extend his aura, keeping his team together, and watching out for Tyrian, who said he had an interest in him (still don't know why.), and Salem. Jaune would’ve had a hard time, especially because his friends would have been making things worse, and he had to follow up on their actions. (More importantly, Jaune might as well learn to stand on his own two feet as huntsman and a leader. Otherwise, how is he important to the story?)

Then in volume eight, when Ren lashed out at him, Jaune would have had more to prove. Imagen Jaune negotiating with Winter on letting them go in to save Oscar. Offering the relic as leverage so they can find Penny, who mind you they were looking for. Rushing in, extending his aura, and going on his own to find Oscar while relying on his friends to do their part. Then having to fight and reason with Hazel to help him. Even to promise Hazel a future where no more people need to die due to Salem’s and Ozpin’s war, considering Jaune lost Pyrrha. Even maybe seeing Hazel ask Jaune to bring Emerald with him. Jaune learning to trust Emerald, despite everything she’s done because he may need her or sees her redeeming qualities. All this, though unintentionally, is to prove Ren wrong. That he’s capable of doing great things and making him a supposedly better leader than Ironwood. He’s based on Jeanne D'Arc, right? Who was the biggest turnaround in the war for France in 1429. A leader and influencer who managed to convince her allies to join her side. Despite being a woman and a peasant with no proof that angels told her to help in the war.

(Okay, look, many of you might say, “Jaune is not a good fighter” which I agree… but isn't a fight more like a debate using strength and knowledge. And we have seen Jaune fight just not with human opponents.Him fighting Hazel may determine how far he has come from when we met him. Also Jaune’s and Hazel's character a true opposite 

Plus the whole point of Hazel’s character is him being a broken man with nothing left to lose. A man who lost all faith in humanity and the hunting world ever since his sister and possibly his whole family were slain by it. His faith slipped the moment he met Salem and found out she was immortal and cannot be killed, making his sister's untimely death even more worth less. However, Jaune is the opposite.

Jaune lost Pyrrha. He lost the very first friend and could've been lover to the hunting world. He was betrayed by others who he thought were  his allies. To make matters worse he too learns of Salem’s immortality. Yes, he was angered by this information. Furious. Almost enough that he would have done the same things Hazel was doing out of spite. But he didn't. He still fights the good fights.

Hazel is man who feels no pain. Sees an indifference between Ozpin and Oscar. Mainly because unlike Jaune he never hanged out with Oscar. So Jaune who was already worried for Oscar, especially after he got kidnapped would be the one to oppose and object Hazel for his actions. Believing that his actions will not only not bring his sister back… but mainly dishonor her. I'm just saying these two should have fought.)

But that’s it for volumes seven and eight. Look, I don't hate Ren and Oscar. However, as some of you complain about Jaune getting too much screen time or being a self insert but when Oscar does the same thing, no one talks about it and are ready to defend other characters and not call out their levels of screen time. Or how they don't fit into the situation. There were plenty of better things Jaune and Nora could have done beside kill or nap for the volumes. Instead, they’re pushed to the side until the writers need an escape goat to advance the plot.

(Also if you are wondering why I am just talking about team JNRO then I am going to be straight forward with you. TEAM JNRO CARRIED THE WHOLE ATLAS VOLUME. And mean main character wise..They save team RWBY. They were the main one probably keeping the people of Mantle and Atlas alive. Jaune killed Penny to save Winter. Basically unlike team RWBY, team JNRO were doing their FUCKING jobs. Hate me if you want to.)

[nrilliree]

Why is it always “Rhaenyra should’ve been a better friend to Alicent” and not the other way around? Have people forgotten how friendships work? It’s a two way street and it was Alicent who betrayed Rhaneyra not the other way around.

Everyone seems to conveniently forget that Rhaenyra was confiding in Alicent about her concerns regarding the council plotting to remarry Viserys so soon after her mother’s death so there’ll be a male heir and what does Alicent do? She dismisses Rhaenyra’s concerns, tells her it’s not for them to worry about and “what if your father were to marry?” (which is rich of her to say considering her own father hasn’t and doesn’t remarry). Alicent doesn’t say these things out of naivety or ‘girlish’ innocence, she says them because she knows she’s apart of the plot to get Viserys to remarry - she IS the plot.

God. I’m so sick of people acting as if she was an innocent bystander. She had HALF A YEAR to tell Rhaenyra about her talks with Viserys. Viserys doesn’t raise the question of whether Alicent tells Rhaenyra until half a year into it. She had ample opportunity to say something and she chose not to because she knew what she was doing and the way her and her father were going about it was cunning and conniving and wrong.

And then people are mad at Rhaenyra for not being more understanding of Alicent and the position Alicent was put in when it’s revealed that she’s to marry Viserys - Rhaneyra put two and two together and realised Alicent was scheming just as much as the council was. But yeah, she totally should’ve welcomed Alicent with open arms.

It’s not out of the ordinary for a child to be mistrusting of a step-parent in today’s world - IN REALITY - so, I’m not sure why people act as if it’s so weird or out of the ordinary or like Rhaenyra is overreacting about being mistrusting of Alicent after she becomes her step mother ESPECIALLY given everything above.

But yeah blah blah Alicent the eternal victim, nothing is ever her fault, she can never ever bear responsibility for her actions because she’s ALWAYS the victim first blah blah 🙄

I wrote this a moment ago, but I deleted the post because some anonymous person was making a mess again. Alicent, in Rhaenyra's eyes, lied to her and betrayed her. Alicent, as a young woman of marriageable age (not a child, as some say, because it was not the 21st century), secretly met in the evenings with a single man whom everyone knew was looking for a wife. She went to his chambers alone. She had dinner with him. She gave him gifts. To ANYONE looking at it from the side, it would look like Alicent WANTED to be queen. What do you think the servants who took two meals to the king's chambers and saw Alicent there thought? "Oh, what a poor girl, I feel sorry for her" or rather "she seduces the king"? Because that's what it looked like. And this is the version Rhaenyra knows, because for several months Alicent didn't say "my father forced me, I didn't want it." After half a year, Viserys asked if Alicent wasn't telling Rhaenyra about it, and he didn't forbid her from talking about it. After half a year.

Why did Alicent expect Rhaenyra to confide in her about bed matters when Alicent hadn't told her for half a year that she was meeting her father in the evenings? Especially since she knew Otto wanted to destroy her and Alicent was secretly trying to become queen (according to what Rhaenyra knows). And seriously, what girl would want to continue to be happily friends with a girl who has sex with her father? Honestly. Rhaenyra stopped trying for this friendship, but that's not surprising. Because Rhaenyra doesn't know about the "Otto forced me" version. But she still managed to show some sympathy towards Alicent - when she accidentally offended her with a comment about being locked in a tower, she apologized. During the last dinner, she said that she appreciated Alicent for taking care of her father. And Alicent? She declared open war on Rhaenyra at her wedding, and then spent a dozen years trying to ruin her life.

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 8

Find the series masterlist

You meet the rest of the 141 officially, learn a few things, and definitely put Kate on your shit list.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, stitches, medical hand-waving, more swearing, Ace is not having a good time.

Word count: 1.9k

You hated to admit it, but he had been right. You did feel better after you slept. You’d refused the offer of borrowed clothes, needing to keep your own on you. You had no idea what time it was - your phone had died overnight. 

But before you could go to the door and try it, it opened. The dark-skinned young man you’d helped all those months ago in Morocco stood there, smile in place. 

“Good, you’re up. Come on, you’re expected.”

“By whom?” You pulled your shoulders back, tipping your chin up. Projecting strength you didn’t feel. 

But he just smiled, motioning for you to follow. “His office is just down here.” 

You huffed. “Should’ve let you bleed out in the street,” you muttered to yourself, though you did follow him. 

“I never did thank you for that.” 

You startled a little - you hadn’t thought he could hear you. “It’s fine. Don’t mention it.” 

“You really helped me then.” He paused in front of a door, turning earnest eyes on you. “So, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” You shifted, uncomfortable, and nodded to the door. 

He opened the door without further ado and waved you in first. You got in two steps and slowed. Because of course this was Captain’s office. Of course it was. 

“Captain,” you drawled with a mockery of your normal smile. “What accusations are we throwing around today?” 

“None.” He watched you closely, eyes just a little narrowed, before he waved to a seat across his desk. “Sit.” 

You debated standing, just to be obstinate. But you sat. Because you were still a little woozy. 

“This is good intel.” He tapped the notebook sitting in front of him. “Laswell told me you brought her the lead on Shepherd, as well.”

“Does it matter?” You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. 

His lips twitched down, just a little. “You’re good at your job. Laswell suggested bringing you in on this, and after seeing what you’ve got, I’m inclined to agree.”

“And you think that after whatever stunt you pulled last night that I’ll be willing to work for you?” You raised both eyebrows at him. 

“Wasn’t sure you could be trusted.” His eyes were hard and unapologetic. “You’d understand if you’d ever been betrayed.” 

“You make an awful lot of assumptions for a man who doesn’t know me, Captain.” You curled your lips in a sneer, hands clenched around your arms. You hadn’t wanted to hit anyone so bad in ages. 

He was quiet for a few long moments, eyeing you. “You asked why, last night.”

You clenched your jaw tight at the reminder of that weakness, but you nodded once. 

“I needed to see how you’d defend yourself.” His lips turned up, just a little. “Threw me off when you didn’t.” 

“Laswell didn’t tell you everything. Just what she thought you needed to know.”

“That much is clear.” He leaned back in his chair slowly, steepling his fingers together. 

“What was the plan?” you asked, unable to help yourself. “Interrogate me? Try to scare me into submission?” 

“Something like that.” He shrugged. “Hard to know who to trust.” 

That much, you did agree with. “Well you should take me right off that list.”

“I don’t think I should.”

“You absolutely should. You should also throw me out of your base, while you’re at it.”

He had the audacity to smile, like you were amusing. “Nah. Don’t think I will, love.” 

You twitched. Not quite a full flinch. But a little twitch. Damn it all, but you couldn’t not feel something when he called you that. Despite the fact that you knew it meant nothing. That you meant nothing. 

“See, I think you like people to think you’re flighty.” He leaned forward slowly, gaze pinning you in place. “You’ve built your reputation up over years. You do good work, solid work, but you never stay in one place. Good way to keep from getting attached.”

“Good way to keep from getting shot,” you shot back, shoulders so tense they hurt, chin up. 

“But you’re loyal, to some very few people. Laswell, for one.” He waited a beat, but you had no defense for that. Because he was right. “You’d be a hell of an asset.” 

Your jaw clenched tight for a moment and you swallowed. “I’ll think about it,” you hedged. “Where’s the exit?”

“You’re not leaving yet.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

“Kate made me promise to keep you for a few days, make sure you’re healing up alright.”

“If she’s so damn concerned, I’ll go show her myself, thanks.” 

“Ace.” He didn’t back down, holding firm under your glare. “You’re staying. Sergeant Garrick will show you to your room.”

You nearly hissed. “No names,” you reminded him sharply. 

“You know the names of the people you work for.” He smirked suddenly. “Except mine.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” You stood, turning towards the door. You needed to go. You needed to get out. Immediately. 

“John Price.” 

You froze just shy of the door. You didn’t need any elaboration. Captain John Price. The name wiggled itself into place in your heart, like it had always belonged there. But you denied both of you the pleasure of his name. “Captain.” Without looking back, you swept out of the room, Garrick close behind you. 

“Make a left,” Garrick instructed. You followed, for now. Just until you could work out the best way to get out on your own. “Now a right.” You grit your teeth but did it. “Yours is here, on the right.” Garrick stopped in front of a door, pushing it open a little. “Shout if you need anything.” His smile was warm and a bit sympathetic as you walked past him into the room.

You shut the door without replying. As much as you wanted to throw yourself on the bed, you didn’t - the last thing you needed was to tear your stitches. Instead, you sat carefully, plugging in your phone and listening hard around you. You couldn’t hear a lot. Either the base was bigger than you’d anticipated, or there were more walls separating you from the action, or there just weren’t that many people around. 

More intel needed. 

But the first order of business, before any of that…

GET ME OUT OF HERE.

It took Kate only a couple minutes to respond. Did he talk to you already?

Yes he did. Make him let me go. You glared down at your phone. 

It will be just like working for me, but he’ll be able to make direct requests too.

You sighed, short and sharp. Not the point. I want to leave.

The response this time was slower coming, easily double the wait. In a few days. Heal up a bit first.

You snarled soundlessly and dropped your phone to the bed, angry and hurt and feeling a little betrayed yourself. This was not how things went. This was not the norm, and you didn’t want it to be the norm.

You didn’t want to be anywhere near Captain John Price, where he could hurt you more. 

You never should have looked into that Russian company. 

The back of your head thumped somewhat gently against the wall behind you. Okay. Laswell wasn’t going to help you. None of your contacts would be helpful here. 

You were on your own. 

You’d barely gotten into planning when someone knocked on the door, and then popped it open an inch without waiting for an invitation. 

“Lunch for you!” a cheerful voice called, accented but differently. 

“Fine,” you agreed slowly, scooting back on your bed. Hypothetically, if Captain had been telling the truth, you had nothing to fear from this man. 

But you weren’t feeling particularly charitable towards Captain at the moment, certainly not enough to just take him at his word. 

The man who entered was tall with a mohawk, bright eyes, and a cheerful smile. “Ace, is it?”

“Mmhm.” You eyed him for a moment, sitting cross-legged on your bed. This was turning out to be one of those times that you really wished you had more self-defense training. 

“I’m Soap.” He handed you a tray of food, which you took carefully. “Heard you’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

“That’s what I’m told.” You forced your voice lighter, working hard to get back into your normal headspace. Since you were stuck here, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction of watching you suffer. 

“I’ll show you around after you eat.” He grinned, grabbing the desk chair and sitting backwards in it. “Make sure you don’t get lost.” 

“I don’t imagine I’ll have much need of that information,” you said mildly, watching him even as you started eating.

But he just grinned at you and started talking, launching straight into a list of a few of his favorite places he’d visited. You didn’t interrupt, just listening as you ate. Until–

“Wait. Hold up. You ate there?” You couldn’t quite keep the horror out of your voice.

He paused, blinking. “Aye?”

“No. Unacceptable. That place charges double what they should, and it’s only okay food! Next time you need to go to–can you hand me that–yes, thank you.” You took the pen and paper he handed to you, scribbling down the name and address. “This place is much better. The owners are the sweetest people, too.”

“Thanks.” He looked surprised, taking the note. “I’ll try it if I get back there.”

“I insist.” You pushed your tray away. “Now, if you’d be kind enough to show me to medical, that should be all I need.”

He chuckled, standing. “Captain wants you familiar with the base,” he said, shrugging. “We’ll stop by medical but you’re getting the full tour, hen.” 

Your eyes narrowed. You needed to get out of here. Immediately. “I see.” You stood carefully, taking a moment to check in with yourself. Side still hurt, but no worse than this morning. You did feel steadier, at least, less woozy. That would have to be enough for now. “Very well. Lead on, then.” 

He winked and held the door open for you. You refused to be charmed, even when he started chattering again immediately, walking you around the base. 

It was smaller than you would have guessed, likely a satellite base for a larger location, or a covert location. It was also quiet. Not too many people around, then. Hmm. Interesting. 

Soap was easy company as he led you around, sticking close to you. How much of that was per Captain’s orders you weren’t sure, but it was only a little annoying, so you let it go. 

At least until he led you into a room, ushering you over to a set of chairs. A briefing room, if you had to guess. 

“What’s this about?” you asked slowly, taking a seat, frowning a little. 

“You’ll see.” Soap plopped himself down into the chair next to you. 

And then Captain walked in with Garrick and the masked one from the night before. Your good mood slid away and you scowled.

Fuck.

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (VII): I Don’t Wanna Live Forever.

Imagine Aemond Targaryen defies you to play truth and dare…

Warnings: explicit smut, drama, fluff…

***

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call. It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all

You are a noble lady of House Tyrell sent to serve Queen Helaena and thus find a good match. In the meantime you are good friends with the queen and her brothers, especially with Lord Aemond, whom you have a particular fondness to.

And though discreet you are, since he started courting Lady Alys, notwithstanding the general disapproving, he sensed you stepped away. Because it’s you, he looks after you.

Finding you thus in the gardens, Aemond approaches you carefully—although not without noticing your features, the colour that paints your locks and the smooth skin seen in delicate cleavage, reinforced in a soft shade of green gown that you dress.

How pretty you are, my lady.

A thought that he does not voice, though.

"I have missed your company, dear Y/Nickname", his husky voice comes out loud.

"Oh have you now?", you answer, pretending to be busy smelling roses nearby.

“Yes”, he frowns when seeing you are not giving him any attention. “Why does it come out as surprise for my lady?”

Despite his bad reputation, his words betray it when coming so softly to your ears. And they always have had some effect in you. To your dismay, even now they do.

You feel that same aching in your legs you’ve struggled to suppress in the past four years since you’ve arrived at court and… discovered how attractive is Lord Aemond. But you’d hope you masked well for he never mentioned it, even though he is more than aware of your sentiments towards him.

Perhaps this is why he’s coming after you, detesting to see how cold you’ve grown to him.

“Because”, you turn in careful moves, always vigilante with your sentiments, “you have been busy, my lord, and this is not my place to expect otherwise.”

Aemond throws his hands up in the air, impatience getting the best of him.

“Is this what we’ve become now? Strangers to each other?”

You cast him a hurt glance and it’s when he has a glimpse of your broken heart. Aemond regrets his impulsive tongue and shortens the distance by taking your wrists gently and making you look at him.

“Y/Nickname”, his throat tightens when his eyes scan your soul, denuding it in such a way that a shiver runs over your spine.

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day. Give me something, oh, but you say nothing. What is happening to me?

You look at him in silence, but then you divert your gaze away. Aemond watches, stunned, as you recompose yourself.

“I should best find my way, lord.”

“No, I shall not permit it.” He then raises your chin delicately. “May I meet you after dinner?”

“What for?”

“I want to apologize for my errors”, his fingertips slide to your cheeks, and a small smirk twirls on his lips when spotting a light shade of red coloring your cheeks. “Please, lady.”

You should not deny him easy access, but this is no ordinary man. A thief is what he is, having stolen your heart.

“Lady”, he almost begs when seeing a struggle behind your eyes. “Have you forgotten our friendship?”

“Nay, lord, but you apparently have.”

He takes your hands again and there presses a kiss each. You see pain in his good eye and this bends you to his will—like always.

“I shall forsake my good sense if you let me see you one more time.”

“Fine”, and then for your good sense. “Midnight. At my privy chambers.”

You turn quickly so he doesn’t see your face going bright red or even read the distrust in your eyes. You miss, however, the sincere smile that spreads shyly upon his lips and the love that replaces agony. Aemond knows now his heart has found it’s one true home…

And Alys’s name is not one thought nor ever to be spoken again. But you don’t know that yet…

***

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain. And I don't wanna fit wherever. I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home in vain…

Aemond’s eye is glued in you. Following discreetly behind Queen Helaena, you believe you are not getting anyone’s attention. You dress in red, but you cannot imagine you are the rogue prince’s target.

You barely know as you delicately sit in shadows that under his thoughts you are denuded, calling his name as he loves you right. Unbeknownst to you, Aemond has so many ideas involving you. He wants to kiss you passionately, he wants to make you his.

He hates how long he’s wasted your time and his… Looking for glory and creating his own story, he forgot the light of his world. You, the rose of his garden; you, whose motto is growing strong; you, who even now in shadows, shine brighter than anyone.

As you are encouraged to dance with other ladies, Aemond follows you with his longing gaze. He can tell you are avoiding him, acting nonchalantly when in truth a small smirk in your lips betrays you.

A deadly game it is, you should know. And when you raise your eyes, meeting his purple good gaze, that old aching raises to your belly and weakens your knees.

And it’s when an invisible spark ties you to him.

I'm sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind. Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life. Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day. I gave you something, but you gave me nothing. What is happening to me?

***

Midnight.

Punctually, Aemond knocks at your door. And when you open it, he sees how nervous you are even though you believe you are not showing it. Your hair is tied in old fashion and your green gown is still on your body.

“Lord”, you greet him with a proper curtsy. “Welcome.”

He takes your hand and there kisses it, eyeing you intently as if he is looking for something behind it. Only then he closes the door. Silently, he follows you to the table close to the fireplace, where you offer him a glass of wine.

“Lady”, Aemond smiles at you. “Looking gorgeous as always.”

You pretend to occupy your gaze with the glass you take to your lips.

“Thank you, but I am unworthy of your praise.”

“How come?”, he asks you, waiting anxiously for your eyes to meet his.

Another sip.

“I am nothing like her”.

And there I go. Taken by my insecurities.

“No”, he agrees calmly. “You are a rose found in noble places.”

Silence comes when you don’t expect to hear such compliment. Aemond reclines back in the chair, pleased to make you blush.

“Since you are quiet this day, I thought we could play that game we played as children”, he smirks.

“What game?”, you cast him a suspicious gaze.

“Truth or dare”, Aemond takes a sip of his gaze. “Like old days, my dear.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your seat.

“I do not think it is wise to play it when we are both drinking wine.”

Aemond chuckles quietly. You know you don’t trust yourself so close to him and to worse, he knows it well.

“Are you afraid of me, my dear Y/N?”

“Not really, no”, but you answer him more nervously than you’d like. “I mean…”

He then takes your hand and holds it gently. You like the contrast of your warm skin to his cold one.

“I am prepared for the thorns”, Aemond smiles sincerely. “Do you honestly take me as Aegon?”

“No”, and here you calm yourself. “Fine, let us begin.”

“I start”, and he smirks at you. “Truth or dare?”

To his disappointment, you choose truth. But to your consternation, he asks you crudely that question you thought you’d never hear.

“Do you love me, lady Y/N?”

Your eyes go wide and you nearly choke with wine. Aemond is amused by how red your face goes and this isn’t the wine speaking. You take a long sip, trying to elaborate a getaway response, but Aemond is staring at you in a way that lying is only trapping you further.

“I… Why’d you think so?”

“For questions, if I remember your rules well, only answers like yes or not are valid”, the prince laughs heartily as you frown at him.

“That is not funny, Aemond. We were children then!”

“But they remain valid! And we are not children anymore, thankfully”, to prove his point he raises his glass. “Well?”

Unwillingly, and completely red, you say:

“Yes.”

One more sip and you avoid his gaze. Aemond, however, is not letting go of your hand.

“Your turn”, he asks you, amused.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth”, Aemond smirks.

You sigh heavily.

“Very well… Has Lady Alys been the first woman you slept with?”

Aemond laughs at your question and when seeing a dark shade of red in your face, he gently leans closer to stroke your cheek.

“You are very adorable when jealous, my lady.”

“Just answer the bloody question”, you grumble, hating the vulnerability.

“Fine. No.”

“No?”

“No. And you can’t ask me other questions, remember?”

You roll your eyes, but eventually cede a smile.

“Your turn.”

Aemond asks you the same question before. This time you know you ought to choose a different option. Therefore you come up with “dare”.

“I dare you to kiss me”, Aemond smirks.

You stand in protest.

“I shall defend my honor, lord. Who do you take me for? Are you here to play with my feelings?”

He too stands.

“We have played it before. We have been great friends too. Come now, have I ever disrespected you?”

“No”, you hesitate still. “But…”

Aemond places his hands around your waist, patiently waiting.

“Trust in me, Y/N. Do not overthink.”

You have so many arguments, Aemond knows it. But to your surprise—and so his—, you decide to obey. Wherever this is leading you, you opt not to think too much. It’s not as if your elder sisters had not done it…

And so you kiss his lips. Aemond sighs in content when tasting yours against his. It should be just like this, innocent and all, but the silver haired prince wants more. Slowly and respectfully his tongue snakes into your mouth and searches for yours.

In other circumstances you’d have panicked. But you are not a young lady anymore. A damsel you may be, but this is the knight of your dreams. And you feign some experience when cupping his face with your hands and following the rhythm he dictates.

Aemond is somewhat surprised by how good your kiss is, and he wonders if you are indeed that innocent you claim to be. And as it gets more passionate, the prince is surprised by being so captivated by you… Your touch in his face, your fingers gripping his hair, all of which gets him aroused.

Remembering the game is still on, though, he parts it briefly.

“My Gods”, he speaks breathlessly. “You surely are hiding a lot there.”

You smirk at him.

“It appears you know nothing of me, lord.”

He furrows his eyebrows.

“How should I understand that?”

You shrug your shoulders, not willing to share any secrets you might or might not have.

“Truth or dare?”, you ask as you sip one more gulp of wine.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to take off your clothes”, you smirk.

Aemond raises his eyebrows.

“Aren’t you bold?”

“Every rose has its thorn”, you giggle.

But neither parts the gaze when he does as asked. Aemond hates that your wide-eyed gaze affects him so.

“I hope this is no vindictive game whatsoever”, he grumbles under his breath, noticing how you seem to rub your leg into the other, a sight that only makes him further rigid.

You roll your eyes, refusing to answer such comment. You sip your wine, back at the chair now, enjoying the view of this silver prince… until you are surprised by his… well, state.

“Have you never seen one before?”, Aemond inquires at your subtle shyness when watching his member full erect. “Should I…?” he asks, suddenly awkward for misjudging you.

“I have not”, you admit, perhaps more leaded by the wine than otherwise. “But don’t keep it away from me. I…. I like it.”

Aemond feels a strange fever take possess of his body and it doesn’t come from his flame.

“Then I dare you to touch me.” The idea makes him further rigid, and it aches him in ways he never judged possible to feel.

You hesitate, but one more sip and the hesitation leaves you. He is now sitting in your tapestry and you join his side.

“You must guide me”, you whisper hotly in his ear.

Aemond casts you an unreadable look.

“Are you comfortable in doing it?”

Every doubt dies the moment you take the reins of the situation. You watch with a lusty curiosity as you touch his manhood, experiencing it throbbing as a result of your moves.

“Gods”, and he moans so sensually that you feel your nipples going unbearable hard under the cloth of your gown.

“Is it good?”, you ask him anxiously.

“Y-Yes”, Aemond moans louder just as he shows you how to pump it faster. “Go on, Y/Nickname.”

You bite down your lip, obeying as requested. Right under your watchful gaze, Aemond is the victim of his own game. He moans louder, his abdomen goes up and down, his breath goes heavier. You know you should stop right there, but you want to see where this will take you.

It doesn’t take a lot more before a white liquid runs into your hands, nearly ruining your gown. Aemond throws his back to the floor, and something about him collapsing like that makes you wet and fervent in your feminine parts.

“My love, you did a fantastic job”, he smiles so sweetly at you, that you cannot help but smile back. “Why is your hair still tied? I want to see it loose.”

“Let me clean my hands first”, you giggle as you stand and head to the quarters that serve as some sort of bathroom.

Once you go back, you spot Aemond nude still, now sitting in your back. You stand quiet for a moment, reclining against the wall, admiring his features.

He’s so comfortable at your privy chambers, admiring it with his natural curiosity, waiting for you as he finishes his wine. And you cannot look away from his beautiful physique, wishing to be deflowered right here, right now. Your morals can be mended with the moon tea, you decide, untangling your hair.

Sensing someone is observing him, the moment Aemond turns at you, he doesn’t need much to get erect one more time. Your long hair falls like a cascade over your shoulders, falling almost to your knees. There is something about your gaze that has the prince completely on his knees for you.

And oh so he would if you asked…

“Truth or dare, my lord?”

“Dare.”

“Take my clothes off.”

The prince stands, readily to come after you. His hands begin to unlace your heavy gown, but as he does so, he inclines to you, whispering in your ear:

“There is no lady prettier than you. You must be an angel to possess such divinity beauty. And here am I, corrupting you.”

You blush at such wording.

“You are drunk, lord. You know naught what to say.”

“Oh, aye. I do. I want you. So badly…”

And when he turns you at him, you blush at the lust gaze he casts you. Aemond removes your heavy gown, his hands already famine for your body.

“Your breasts…”, he moans, admiringly as he cups each. “Your nipples are already hard. Does my lady know what this means?”

“Nay. What could a damsel know of such matters?”, you tilt your head, waiting for his guidance.

And like a good tutor, Aemond begins to teach you.

“It means that what I feel, you feel too, evidently in different ways because our bodies are different.” He begins to touch the swells of your breasts, each finger eagerly moving to hold it fully. “Fuck. These are good and firm breasts.”

“Do you like what you see?”, you groan at his touch. And you groan louder the moment he plays with your nipples, twirling with his thumbs. “Oh my Gods!”

“Oh yes, I do”, he smirks. “It’s better than I’ve imagined.”

You stare at him in disbelief, finding hard to balance as he touches you slowly. You thus rest your hands over his shoulders.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve fucked Alys thinking of you”, Aemond confesses sincerely. “It’s true. I have loved you long before you’ve grown to love me, my lady. You have been the object of my sweetest dreams, the affection of my heart and the aim of my desires. Always wondered what’d be like to have you all to me.”

Part of you doesn’t believe him, but another one wants to. Either way you lean to kiss him passionately, and soon the game is forgotten. You sit on his lap, feeling the tip of his manhood rubbing in your entrance, which arouses you.

“My Gods, I shouldn’t be doing this”, you speak in between kisses, then dragging him to your bed. “But I need you. I need you now, Aemond.”

Somewhere along lines reason has long left you both, and the prince is prompted to align his desires with yours.

“As I need you, my lady”, and that being said his mouth drops to each nipple, making you moan louder this time, all the whilst his fingers find your entrance and there begin to play along. “All wet for me, oh my damsel!”

He hums against your skin, driving you insane. Wine may have its part to blame, but it doesn’t excuse the heavenly sentiment of doing it right—even if it’s morally wrong.

You want him right there, devouring your breasts with his tongue, his skillful hand releasing the pressure in your womanhood.

Until it gets better… and he replaces his fingers with his mouth. His tongue diving inside you brings greatest delights no book is enough to describe. You feel like a sinner, but a sinner redeemed.

“Oh Aemond!”, you want more of him, to selfishly possess him. You want him so bad that…

Every control is lost and Aemond himself feels brought to the seven heavens.

And when he removes the one thing that covers his eye, no words are needed to be said. He crawls over you, spreading your legs further. Seeking for your consent, you kiss him in confirmation.

Moved by wine, instigated by such a deadly game that played with secretive sins, this is not, however, merely lustful desire. When he penetrates you, deflowering you thus, new promises arise.

“I will make you my wife”, Aemond vows when taking your face with his hands. “No man shall touch you, my darling.”

You moan lowly in response, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t make promises you cannot keep”, you whisper against his lips, enjoying the mix of pleasure and pain that comes with his gentle moves.

“I will keep”, he vows under his breath. “I am going to pregnant you woman and show the world you are mine and mine alone.”

To prevent you to protest it, Aemond searches for your lips as you two lock bodies together, moving as one.

In the end, you know, your prince has the best of you… but fruits are only about to grow.

***

• Epilogue

That a sweet rose as yourself has managed to hold tight the untamed heart of the bad reputed Targaryen prince has been the news for the season in Westeros.

Aemond Targaryen, notices a certain chronicler of Aegon II’s reign, has taken as wife Lady Y/N of House Tyrell on the last days of spring following the fifth year of King Aegon, Second of His Name’s reign.

A random courtier, on the other hand, claims that this is no ordinary marriage, but a lustful and loving gaze all made at once. You are described by your beauty and discreet manners, and rumours spread that you became Lord Aemond’s wife after refusing to be his whore.

And whatever happened to Lady Alys Rivers? No one really cares to know. But a minor chronicler suggests that she turned her whoring to Lord Daemon Targaryen. If that is really truthful, no one is bothered to discover it.

In the meantime, Aemond Targaryen takes possession of Dragonstone and there makes it home for you and the new family that comes with your children.

What really is intriguing is that less than eighth months after the wedding, Lady Visenya is born, which raises some eyebrows. But who dares to express this thought out loud?

Not as if you care or Lord Aemond does. You are all too content with the life that so many moons ago both of you desired but neither had the courage to share with each other.

And here you are now, his lady and mother of his children.

[barleyalive101]

Don’t you guys wonder how rhaenyra felt seeing alicent birth sons easily while her moth struggled, I’m not saying she wished to see alicent struggle but I’m saying she might have felt some sadness to her mother , some bitterness on her mother’s account seeing alicent having son after son healthily while her mother only had her ,seeing alicent doing the thing her mother couldn’t do.

I wonder if rhaenyra wished to be a boy , then she would have been enough, her father wouldn’t push for a son , her mother wouldn’t have died , everything would have been better ( Viserys would still want more kids as it’s risky only having one but he wouldn’t have been that insistent ,perhaps a break between the pregnancies )

Can you imagine having your best friend that knows how much you love your mother , how it saddens you she died trying to birth the “male heir” , how much it hurt losing her , how much it hurts even more that your father will have to marry , marry someone who’ll replace your mother, turning out to be the replacement, Be the someone who your dad will marry after you told her everything, turns out to be seeing your dad behind your back a few weeks/months after your mother’s death.

I know Viserys must marry but marrying Laena is different than alicent , cause rhaenyra doesn’t have a strong bond with Laena (show ) , it doesn’t feel personal like a break of trust. Having someone whom you cared about rise and take your mother’s place.

Alicent didn’t even have the decency to tell rhaenyra before the council even , alicent knew viserys choice , she made sure she was the choice by otto’s orders , Alicent at that moment didn’t treat rhaenyra like a friend , she was like everyone else.

Side note : Viserys also should have told rhaenyra beforehand , she’s his daughter not some lord to find out at the council. He wasn’t exactly a good dad to rhaenyra either. He wasn’t even there for her after he killed her mother , the first thing he says to her after her mother’s death is about the prophecy like really that’s what you are opening the conversation with ? , After not talking to her for soo long , then he comes in blaming daemon , “you weren’t there for your niece”, well where were you for your daughter ?.

One extra thing viserys never questioned why the fuck does the hand of the king ,Otto fucking Hightower has spies watching his daughter and brother? Spies he hasn’t ordered being put , why is he stalking the royal family, it ain’t his business unless viserys makes it his business, when was it the hands job to have spies without the king’s knowledge?

Back to the main topic ; So Alicent’s betrayal is waaay worse than rhaenyra’s supposed “betrayal” , Rhaenyra doesn’t owe alicent anything after the move alicent pulled , alicent betrayed first keep that in mind , before you say “well Otto forced her to do that” , how is rhaenyra supposed to know that , alicent didn’t say anything and afterwards we see alicent undermining rhaenyra by ordering the bard away ,reminding her of her position above her then after the fiasco with daemon , alicent comes in talks shit about the targaryen customs , ( after she’s married to one , hypocrite) basically dissing on the entire family tree , throws some heavy accusations at rhaenyra, barley letting rhaenyra talk and Rhaenyra didn’t lie to her she said daemon didn’t touch me ( touch in this context means sex not kiss cause even Otto says it as sex ) which is the truth, she didn’t lie , she just didn’t give her full details and why would she , alicent is no longer her friend, she’s her queen as rhaenyra was reminded beforehand.

Funny thing , Like a fool I honestly expected alicent knowing rhaenyra did it with Crispin , would prove that rhaenyra didn’t lie about daemon,that Otto was wrong but no alicent turned into a mega bitch, who constantly sought out to ruin rhaenyra’s peace , out of jealousy, even though Rhaenyra didn’t hurt her.

[tsubaki94]

Why is Sam so petty? It's like she wanted Danny to say something that would give her a reason to hate him, and because he didn't, she hates him.

Alright, let’s look at Sam’s character and how she sees Danny.

First off, she is quick to judge, that’s a character flaw. The first time she meets Danny he is cutting ahead of her in line to stand with the A-listers whom she despises. So right off she gropes Danny into the spoiled privileged category and confronting him only confirms this, it is also confirmed when Danny tells Dash he is going to try and get a new gaming console out of Vlad. Basically not a good first impression.

Then the accident happens, and he is missing from school for two months before showing up with Tucker late for a class having apparently rescued him from a locker where Dash (Danny’s best friend as far as she knows) put him. However, this is also where Tucker starts defending Danny because he realizes he wasn’t as bad as he first thought, (and he pities him). Still, Sam is greatly annoyed at Danny especially seeing that he is just doing a wheelie in the back of the classroom not even listening to the teacher. And then he gets paired up with Tucker for the writing assignment, emotionally for her, this is like having her best friend stolen by Danny.

What happens after that? Well, she sees Tucker and Danny in Doomed together instead of writing the book report which Tucker said he was going to do. So when he gets to school the next day she is pissed and again Tucker shuts her down and forces Sam to rethink.

She watches Danny during gym-class sees him struggle and at the end of class Dash pours water on him unprovoked. Automatically Sam’s moral justice takes over and she sees Danny as a victim of bullies and tries to comfort him because maybe Tucker was right. After all a friend wouldn’t just dump water on someone.

Then we have the math scene and Danny is struggling, something she can’t relate to, and then Tucker helps him and that annoys her because Tucker is her friend. The paper plane only makes things worse as she sees Tucker becoming better and better friends with Danny. This is where we see a bit deeper into Sam’s mentality. She doesn’t let people in because she is afraid of losing them or getting hurt by them, but Tucker got in and stays with her even when she is bitching.

Because if we look at Tucker for a moment, he is more forgiving and doesn’t judge the book by its cover. He also noticed that Danny struggles with reading and tries to help him, something Danny gladly accepts, unlike Sam who needs to be able to do things on her own. And Tucker has already realized that Danny, like Sam, gives attitude when he feels attacked.

But back to Sam and the vegetarian Lunch Week. First off, it wasn’t her intention to make it all vegetarian for a week, she and a lot of students in school wanted to get a vegetarian alternative, maybe even vegan, so that they too could eat the school lunch and didn’t have to bring their own. The school decided to see how much vegetarian food they had to make and what the general student body thought of the dishes, so they made it a Week.

Sam tries to explain this to Tucker (who overplayed things because he is nervous about the change being permanent and him having to think of what is being served instead of just taking the meat and potatoes like he always do.) but when Tucker hears her say that she was a part of doing the changes his brain doesn’t prosses the rest. He feels betrayed and Sam’s fear of losing him as a friend only grows.

Tucker leaves to calm himself down and think over what Sam said, he isn’t going to hate her because of the lunch menu but will bitch about it just like she does about people. It also helps him cope with the situation.

Sam who is left alone with Danny really wants to start a fight with him and prove that he isn’t good enough to be friends with Tucker. But Danny doesn’t act like she thought he would and shows that he cares for Tucker. This leaves makes Sam angry because he doesn’t act like she wants him to, but she also softens up to him because he is on her side on the lunch menu debate and he doesn’t just take Tucker’s kindness but also gives it back.

To summarize, Sam thought Danny was just another jerk like the A-listers. She wants to keep believing this because it’s easier than getting to know someone and letting them know her. However, she listens to Tucker and takes his words to heart, sees that the A-listers aren’t treating Danny like a friend. And when she tries to confront him, Danny doesn’t act the way she thought he would forcing her rethink her judgement of him. She puts her judgement to the side for the moment in favor of keeping Tucker as her friend and avoids stepping on his toes when it comes to what she thinks of Danny.

Wow, this got long. I hope you understand the thought process behind Sam a bit more. And as people have pointed out, she is only 14, still a child with room to grow.

[lightlycareless]

How strict is Naoya in his parenting style and how might that appear when he’s parenting the child he’s chosen to succeed him? I’m sure it’ll look different than how Naobito treated him but I also wonder if he’d have struggles falling into old patterns on occasion

Hello!

Another interesting ask 👀👀 One I haven't wondered to myself, always thinking that he'd be like, spoiling his kids rotten... but anyways!!!

If we’re talking about the version of Naoya that doesn’t care about anything else but himself, then yeah, he’s going to be super strict + detached. You cannot force him to care and will undoubtedly replicate the things he saw when growing up to his kid; his children are going to hate him, and I think… Naoya might hate them too.

However, we’re talking about a man that has you as his wife, whom he loves very much and has slowly begun to change for the better, learning that he too is deserving of happiness and capable of harboring such feeling, which he tries his best to extend over to his children 😊

It’s not easy, certainly not with someone as the Zen’in as relatives, but he does his best to raise them in an environment vastly different from his. And if there’s a silver lining to all this, is that he has such bad examples around him, that he knows what not to do lol.

The real issue here is when it comes to putting down boundaries, in other words, dealing with the consequences of their never-ending, unrestricted doting.

I mean, there was no way they knew it would be difficult, right? Everything had been nothing but smooth sailing when (for example’s sake) Naomi was a baby! She was just an adorable toddler, as well as their first child, so they had to give her all that she wanted, and more; besides, she was too young to know any better, and as first-time parents, you deserved to do this!

What could go wrong?

The two would soon find out the moment she begins to walk, talk, and, you know… everything else.

Because Naoya and you had spoiled/doted on her so much, she thinks that your warnings are, well, playful suggestions; and it becomes difficult to get her to understand that you two were being serious…

Leaving the two with no other option than to look into punishments.

I think this oneshot is the perfect example of what would happen when Naomi does get grounded, as well as everyone’s surprise from the fact the two actually kept their word and did it.

Because of her spoiled, and lenient upbringing, Naomi is exaggeratedly sorrowful. Straight up miserable which leads her to isolate herself from her parents, upset that they would “betray” her like this, which honestly makes Naoya and you feel like an absolute piece of shit, heavily debating whether to just save her from being grounded and move on!

However, you both decided against it after coming to the conclusion that this was, in the long term, for her good.

Yes, it definitely hurts to see her avoid the two, and yes, sometimes you’ll cut her “sentence” a bit shorter… but you always do your best to explain why she’s being grounded in the first place; one of the many things Naoya does differently from Naobito, and while it takes a while for her to get it, they eventually bear fruits.

Over all, the Zen’in clan is astonished that someone as Naoya was capable of raising such a well-mannered child (considering his upbringing and what seemed to be hers at that point.) but no one will deny that they’re relieved she’s not bound to be as crazy as her father was.

She’s still a child of course, so expect a lot of mischief here and there, but nothing too crazy—that’s for the youngest of your kids 🤭

Now, referring to the “old patterns” section… Yes. As any human, Naoya will undoubtedly fall into his old self from time to time, when it happens the first time though the reaction to it will be so, so painful to him, he’s actively going to avoid his children because he thinks of himself as a “danger to them.”

But that’s the beauty of families; you both have each other for support, so when he doubts himself, you’ll be there to lift him up and reassure him he’s a good father—and vice versa—by reminding him that it was not intentional, and him knowing such proves it all together.

These things don’t happen very often after years go by, if anything the two just become more lenient, when the rest of your kids bring it up, Naoya will quickly jump to deny it lol.

I believe the only places he’d be very strict though would be when naming his successor and training them to be sorcerers—but it’s all because he knows the dangers such responsibilities entail, and he wouldn’t want any of his children to be unprepared to face them.

So, the final conclusion is: while Naoya will be highly doting of his children, spoiling them with whatever they want whenever they want it, he’ll still manage (although very, very hardly, to his very best) to be strict when needed, but never borderline abusive—he’s at a point where he wants to give them only the best.

Doesn’t stop them from being mischievous little devils, but they’re all lovable, nonetheless.

Extra: he’d be a total soccer mom. The way he gets into it is kinda scary, but not unexpected, he is highly competitive after all…

Y’all sending me these asks have me very very happy, ngl. Thank you so much for indulging me, you literally how over the moon I am to know there’s people that like what I do :’)

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope you have a wonderful weekend, take care and hope to see you soon!

[manwrre]

i have been dreaming of a top gun:maverick!inspired harringrove fic for the past few days. esp since their usual dynamic is a cocky, self assured blonde and a wildly stupid + talented brunette so puhlease. if that doesn’t scream harringrove, i dunno what will.

imagine billy, whose dad got kicked outta the military on a bad conduct charge but never tells a soul—too ashamed and too proud and too angry to bear the weight of his actions. so instead, when he gets home to his wife and kid, he makes their lives a living hell and runs their home like a base.

0600 - wake up “because i won’t have any slobs living under my roof,”

0605 - leave behind a bed of perfectly creased corners or “sleep on the floor, since you want to live like an animal,”

0615 - start the chores or “starve. there’s no such thing as eating for free,”

“don’t talk back,”

“don’t ask questions,”

“you’re not a baby, billy— stop crying over toys.”

“are you some kind of fucking fairy? sit up straight.”

“you better not embarrass me, boy.”

and it only gets worse when billy’s mom finally ups and leaves. no amount of “yes, sir”s can save him from his father’s wrath and soon enough, rewards and punishments become all too similar; the line between them, blurry at best. neil’s love feels exactly the same as his hate and both leave heavy stamps of purple and blackish-blue near billy’s heart.

so by the time that billy’s eighteen and old enough to leave, he’s more decorated than most. has given up more than most. has endured a battle longer than that of most neighboring countries.

and he doesn’t really have a choice (if he wants to leave neil’s house) but to join the air force and so, that’s what he does. and billy’s done a lot to survive but flying? the thought of it makes him feel alive. and the notion is only cemented after he watches a p-51 mustang take off for the first time and his heart feels it’s been through 10gs of force.

so he becomes the goddamn best in his batch. he gets his degree in mechanical engineering. he gets to flight school and he’s glittering. he’s whip smart and confident and has the instincts to back it up. he’s tall and sun-kissed, blue-eyed and blonde-haired. and that alone has everyone on the squad calling him “johnny— like bravo, not the jackass.” paired with his sweet, little texan drawl, he’s charismatic and a total wildcard. he bitches and preens and leads but billy,

billy gets the job done. every single time.

doesn’t care who it pisses of. doesn’t care about kissing ass. and yet still, when there’s a particularly tough mission, the admiral knows that johnny boy is up for it.

regardless, he racks up a long list of avid followers and enemies.

so when he gets to hard deck a day before top gun training is meant to start, he’s not surprised to meet the latter of whom in the form of steve “beemer” harrington.

steve, who looks the same as he did in flight school all those years ago— golden and freckled just about everywhere. he fills out his shirt just right and if billy were closer, the coupla inches steve has on him would be more obvious.

“beemer, as i live and breathe.”

billy’s pleased to see steve’s eyes widen at the sight of him. smirks when he realizes he’s on the receiving end of the brunette’s sweeping gaze.

“johnny,” steve says, around the rim of his beer bottle. “you look…good.”

and oh, does that light him up.

billy’s careful though, to not let his face betray a single thing. instead, he grins a little wider. a little deeper; a little meaner.

“well, i am good, beemer.” he shrugs and plucks the pool cue out of carver’s grip.

he ignores the blonde’s huffing beside him and instead, leans forward to line the tip of it up behind the ball.

he knows the motion accentuates the long lines of his body. he knows that gravity favors him and the undone buttons on his shirt; gives a generous view of his naked chest.

“i’m very good.”

steve’s eyes flit between his and then, somewhere lower.

and billy snorts, lining up his aim; coiled tightly and precise. holds it for all of a second before the string snaps and he’s breaking the rack with a resounding, wooden clackclackclack.

“in fact, i’m too good to be true.”

and thereby starts their enemies to lovers trope! i’m talking heated looks in the locker room, post training tension, make out sessions in the otherwise empty gym. hanging out at each other’s on base accommodations and billy calling steve ‘bee.’ imagine them exchanging dog tags?? and steve getting all possessive when billy’s got his flight suit unzipped halfway and tied around his little waist. they’d be instructors together and show off in the air, driving everyone crazy. the perfect leader and wingman.