#and proud I have been getting comics done

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Do you not realize it? Do you... truly not see what this means?"

The next Destiny Bond update is in progress! ❄️✨ –> Check out the latest part here 🔷 –> New to the series? Follow from the start! 💜

[biracy]

Tbh I should probably take a break. I almost definitely won't but I should, yknow

[apawture]

something else i have been doing behind the scenes is more generic story planning, leaving most details up in the air but just getting basic "team goes here does this these things happen" etc written down for the chapters so it can stop being a vague mush of different separate events that need connecting and only exist inside my head. and i have the first two and a half chapters planned! chapter 3 is nearly done but i need to make adjustments to it still

[thatone-highlighter]

“Do you know how tiring it is to have to reforge a bond every single time I change hands? Maybe being the Gem of Intelligence means I have to deal with so many egotistical mongrels one after the other with no breaks in between, and maybe you’re the first to actually treat me like a person!”

Felt like doing something funky for the one year anniversary of @maldito-arbol ‘s fic Ill Be Your Best Friend, second in the Were Just Human series!

Ive done this comic before but i thought it would be fun to do it a second time to compare and its such a good scene overall so. Its crazy that its been a year, it both feels like too long and not long enough. Im so glad i decided to read this series it is so good the writing is amazing and the characters are all so complicated and interesting, and of course all the people I’ve met and become friends with because of it! so i just wanna say thanks Mal, for deciding to write this i guess, this fic has been amazing it was a wonderful thing to look forward to every second Friday and its crazy to think i could have easily never met you or anyone else in the server or not if it hadn’t been for this series. So thanks and i hope this comic shows even a bit of my appreciation for you and your fic

And to anyone who hasn’t read the series, you should!! I Love fic 1 Marcy’s unreliable narrator and her mumbling habit keeping me on my toes trying to keep track of everything. The girls’ powers and the introduction to the gems and everything that happens with that is just *chefs kiss* amazing, and don’t even get me Started on fic 3 i cant even say anything without spoiling! So if you haven’t read it, go read it! Its such a good series and the writing and characters are incredible and agh! And if you have read it, read it again i don’t care its so good i could re-read it endlessly

[flamboyant-king]

Happy New Years!

I hope to show up more often on here with art to share!

Maybe just posting dumb stuff, but I also hope to see y’all more often too. 

\(^o^) Cheers!

[honeybubblebeeeeee]

Arranged marriage AU!Toji x Reader

Summary: Your son with toji, Megumi, said his first words today

CW: toji is cold and distant mostly hurt and no comfort mild fluff i guess??

Idk this was a random thought and now its here

REQUESTS OPEN!

Marriages were not always done out of love. Some were done out of necessity or desperation. Much like the one you were currently in. It was necessity of clans and land squabbles and power hungry old men that didn't care for the feelings of those around them - only getting what they want.

And in your case they got what they wanted. Did you get anything you wanted? Well kinda.

Being in an arranged marriage to Toji wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. It could be worse but it could also be much, much better.

You had known each other since you were children as it was planned from a young age that you two were to be married. You hadn't minded. Toji was attractive and you had a mini crush on him for the longest time but he always detested you. You knew of the numerous women he had slept with before your marriage, having run into them multiple times. It felt like he was trying to push you away, to force you to beg for an out but you both knew that wasn't happening.

You had only been married for a short time now almost two years. It had been mostly uneventful in the name of new marriages aside from - ya know - the whole baby you had. Toji and you were told to waste no time in trying to produce an heir and really that was the only Toji showed you any affection. Outside of those moments he was cold and inattentive. Those moments were only out of the necessity to reproduce anyway. He didn't interact with your son Megumi very much either.

You cleaned up the kitchen after dinner in your large but yet lonely house. Toji was still out. Work or something else you weren't sure. Megumi babbled and bounced as he watched you move around the kitchen from his highchair, music played in the background. You smiled at him as he babbled. "Hi 'Gumi." You waved at him smiling wide. He laughed giddly at your voice, his mop of black hair bouncing with his movements.

He was the happiest and the cutest baby you had ever seen. You were more than proud of yourself. It was only mildly hurtful that Megumi was identical to Toji. His dark hair, his facial structure screamed Toji. The only thing he had gotten from you was your eyes. They reflected back at you as you approached the bouncing baby putting him on your hip.

You danced along to he music, bouncing him around as he laughed and babbled.

You put him down on the floor as you turned off the music. He continued babbling to himself as he crawled around. "Dadadadadada"

You turned almost comically slow to look down at your son. "What?!" Your smile was wide and your face was full of surprise.

Megumi babbled on again almost coherently. "dadadadadada"

You were so in shock you could barely move. Picking him up and swiftly sitting him on the counter. "Gumi did you say dada?! Say it again! Say dada."

Megumi laughed and babbled at you. You repeated the word multiple times, he watched intently his mouth moving as if trying to copy you. More coherent this time. "Dada"

You smiled wide and clapped at him. "Good job Megumi!! Oh my we have to tell Dada don't we? Such a smart boy."

Within the same moment Toji burst through the front door. You looked up at him as he passed by the kitchen, not even taking off his shoes before going to stomp up the stairs. "Toji! Oh my gosh come here Megumi just-"

"Leave me alone." He marched up the stairs. You heard his footsteps through the house and his bedroom door slammed. You looked down at Megumi as his small hands held onto your shirt and he looked up at you with big eyes. "Dada." You smiled softly at him. "Yeah baby... dada." Looking towards the stairs as if seeing him stomp up to them all over again.

Hours went by and he never came back down. You texted him that his dinner was in the fridge, that you wanted to show him something, that you were here for him if he needed anything, that you were sorry he had a bad day and he never answered or even read a single message.

Since figuring out he could say 'dada' Megumi had not stopped repeating it. You knew it wasn't to annoy you but you couldn't help feel a pang of hurt every time he said it. Toji was rarely around. Why couldn't his first word be mama, the one who is always around?

It was Megumi's bed time but you really thought Toji hearing Megumi would lighten up his day a little. You sighed to yourself as you built lego towers with Megumi upstairs in his playroom. Here you were, still trying to be the wife but he really was making you into a stranger.

You bathed and dressed Megumi in his pjs and held him close as he looked up at you. "Should we go see if dada is busy Megumi?" His eyes widened at the word and continued his babbling mantra of it. You walked through the east half of the house where your room and Megumi's plus your own office, some extra rooms and Megumi's playroom were. Toji's side was the west wing. If you were actually husband and wife you would share the north wing, where the extravagant bedroom - apartment practically - sat bare and collected dust. You looked to the double doors at the end of the north hall with disappointment before making you way to the west end and stepping up to Toji's door.

You hesitated before knocking softly. Waiting a moment before looking down at Megumi and shrugging. "I don't know if he's awake bud." You thought for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside. The light were on so you entered even though you knew you shouldn't. Toji never let you in his room. You'd only be in here a handful of times and all those times were unpleasant.

You walked through the sitting area into the bedroom until you noticed the bathroom door shut. You shook your head, looking to Megumi, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I think we will show dada tomorrow okay?" Megumi was unusually quiet, maybe being able to feel the tension that grew in your body. Turning swiftly you made for the door you came through but before you made it out of the bedroom the bathroom door opened.

"What are you doing in here?" Toji's voice was loud and cold. You turned to look at him. Water dripped from his wet hair, his body damp with steam. A towel hung loosely around his waist. "Did I say you could come in my room?" His eyes bore holes into you. The heat that rushed into your face gave away your fear.

You looked down to the son you both created, trying to look anywhere but at the way his muscled form rippled infront of you. It was easier to pretend you didn't find him attractive or care about him or have feelings for him when he wasn't right infront of you.

"Oh... sorry... I just..."

He eyed you, how you stayed focus on Megumi. The small boy holding onto your free hand. "What happened? Is Megumi ok?" His expression changed as he approached the two of you. His voice still cold and annoyed but a hint of concern hid underneath it all.

Your head snapped to him. Eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Nothing I just... he said his first word today. I thought it might cheer you up to hear it if I can get him to say it again."

His features softened ever so slightly. "His first word?" Toji tilted his head in thought. "What was it?" You couldn't help but notice the small amount of excitement in his voice.

Megumi bounced in your arms at Toji's voice, babbling along as if trying to figure out how to say it all over again. I smiled at Toji and then back down at Megumi. I pointed at Toji. "Who's that Gumi? Hmm? Say dada! Say it again baby show dada."

Megumi babbled and pointed towards Toji for a few moments before sounding out dada once again.

Toji's face immediately brightened. "What?! Dada??" He chuckled deeply, one that sounded genuine and it shook something in you. "He actually said it. Good boy Megumi." Toji stepped up to you and the baby as he spoke. Brushing Megumi's heap of hair back.

You kissed to side of Megumi's head as he bounced on your hip. "He hasn't even said mama yet." You chuckled softly but the tinge of hurt was in your voice. "Anyway that was all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for coming in your room, I know I'm not supposed to."

He shook his head. "it's okay." He assured as he watched Megumi babble and squirm in your grip. He was overtired for sure. Toji seemed to be a different person than the one you had come accustomed. His permanent scowl was gone and he looked almost happy. "Can I hold him?"

His question shocked you. Eyes widening but you handed him over.

Toji softly cradled him, rocking him back and forth as he whispered to him. Megumi didn't cry or fuss, even his overtired babbling stopped. Slowly his eyes got heavy and closed. You watched intently as Toji interacted with your son. If it could be like this all the time.

"He really does have my hair. He's got your eyes too." Toji commented quietly while admiring his son. His eyes flicked up to yours for a moment.

I smiled at him. "Yeah... he does..."

Toji chuckled softly. "He really does look like me. It's kinda scary."

You laughed a little more sincerely than you intended. "He does, has your personality too."

Toji chuckled low. "Yeah, he's cold and distant just like me?"

Your smile dropped, panic set in at his words. "Oh n-no I didn't mean it like that..."

Toji shook his head and looked up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at your panicked expression. "I was joking, I know what you meant." He assured as he watched the sleeping Megumi in his arms.

You let go of a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "oh right."

Toji whole aura seemed to relax when he held Megumi. You wished he could be around all the time. That he could be the father figure Megumi needed. That he could be the husband you wanted. To come home after a long day, and sit together. To be able to go to him when you needed a hug or reassurance or just wanted to feel loved. Your eyes focused as you realized that Toji was watching you deep in thought. Shaking your head you held out your arms. "I can take him now if you want. I don't want to bother you."

He held onto Megumi for a moment, seeming almost reluctant before handing him over to you. You smiled and nodded at him, turning to leave. He called out to you as you reached the door. "Wait, Y/N-"

You turned to look at him. "What's up?"

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. "Never mind sorry. Goodnight."

You eyed him for a moment before reluctantly turning away. "Alright... goodnight."

He couldn't bring himself to tell you the things he wanted to say. He couldn't find the words. How does he make up for the suffering you already endured? You had always so easily melted his cold dead heart, so he kept you at a distance but you had been so close. He already felt it melting.

[seventh-district]

god that birthday post fucks me up so much i love it

[byooregard]

x men tumblr dashboard simulator

bluebabadee

THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI

10 notes 📌Pinned Post

sparklejays Follow

based on your likes!

every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles

#actually mutant #jay .txt

276 notes

scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism

🏙️tilleys-brain Follow

self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic

#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain

1,657 notes

oh-you-pretty-things

.

#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk

3 notes

mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral

🩻mutantpollscentral

*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever

#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick

668 notes

sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses

🎹pussy-truck-faggot

HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.

#THIS!!! #rb

5,678 notes

rosetvler

god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.

rosetvler reblogged rosetvler

non-mutants can reblog this btw

#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this

18 notes

katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries

🌌rosetvler Mutuals

i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

dude do you hear yourself right now

🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow

Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

i. i am a telepath.

#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad

15,678 notes

[lilybug-02]

Happy 2 Year Anniversary to The Chara Timeline ✨

I FINALLY made drawing references for you guys, yippie!✨

It’s wild how long I’ve been working on this comic without reference sheets. I’m never that consistent with my art style, so I figured it was a waste of time 🫥💀😔 this is my first full comic okay…

Thoughts and Feelings About the Comic Below ❤️💖💕💞

Wow. It’s been 2 years??? I thought I would be done with this comic in 2 months! I don’t know whether to feel worried or accomplished!!

(With months between each update, I understand why it’s been 2 years. I’m a slow writer and artist and well- many things have come up in my life that had to come first, like my sisters wedding! 💞 and college 😅)

I want to thank my family and friends (WHO DO NOT READ THIS COMIC- THANK GOD) 💕 AND I want to THANK YOU! The readers! 💐💐

You guys are relentless! I’m as impatient as traffic and yet you guys wait for weeks or months at a time for like 4 pages?! You guys don’t even complain!!! I truly want to thank you all for that ❤️ it helps me so much. Being busy and getting burnt out are common and it helps me feel relaxed that i'm not on a timer. Literally tho- you guys keep this comic chugging I swear. Tysm 💐

Unorganized rambling about the comic ahead :) ⭐️🔥

—

My feelings with this comic are actually so complicated. On one hand I hate looking at my older art because GOD IT LOOKS SO OFF I want to stab it, and then on the other hand I am so so proud of myself for even continuing it this far. Ngl the weird route has been one of my favorite parts of this comic. It took me FOREVER to figure out an ending, but damn do I still get chills >:) hehe.

I’m still miffed that I named this project “Deltarune: The Chara Timeline” I could have gone for something so much COOLER. Doesn’t help I use like 7 different titles for it either. We got Deltarune the Chara timeline, Deltarune chara timeline, THE Chara timeline, chara timeline, Ct??? Man,,, I’m crazy. I take after my family so hard. We have 3 names for each of our dogs 💀.

Comic/Animation Tip i have learned. It is VERY GOOD to make the character relatively simple in design. Shape language is also super important, ((but I never really got around to doing that before I was half way through the comic, woops.)) These things can make ur process go by so much faster. This whole comic has been a HUGE learning curve. LIKE OH MY GOD. I had to learn how to draw backgrounds, write dialogue, plan a story, learn how to draw fast and draw noses (which god damn I really still can’t). And I had to learn how the heck to squeeze art into a tiny page and make it not look grainy. It's intense!

Anyways.... this has been such an awesome opportunity! Thanks Toby Fox!

I totally ran out of “art time” for my iPad and wanted to finish this today. So it’s a bit rushed. I’ll add weapons and possibly the other characters later :)

Oh shi- I forgot to add this grainy image of the next few pages lmao

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 10 - A Song of Ice and Fire | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: The moment has arrived for you and Aemond to prove yourselves against the Martells. You can only hope you've done enough to earn your place | Word Count: 7.7k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: teasing, hair pulling, mile high club (oop), voyeurism, degradation, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), ass slapping, orgasm denial, threatening behaviour, mentions of a broken family, mentions of chronic pain, blood, slight angst, injury in relation to chronic condition, trigeminal neuralgia, hospitals

A/N: I can't believe this is the LAST CHAPTER FUCK 😭😭😭 i love these two sm, would die for them 🥰 I really hope you guys enjoyed this series, it was so fun to write! If you're lucky there might even be an Epilogue 😉

Sunspear.

That’s where the finals would be.

Cocky fuckers. Thinking that they had the win, by having it on Martell turf.

At this point, the prospect of winning was low on the priority list. The top spot had been somewhat taken over, by carrying out the plan you had in store, which Aemond was increasingly becoming more and more suspicious of.

You and Helaena would play dumb whenever he walked past her room, hiding whatever you were doing. As much as Helaena prefaced that what you had planned was a terrible idea, she’d grinned and told you to do it anyway.

She’d even given her opinion when you modelled it.

“Perfect” she said with a proud smile, leaning back in her chair.

You’d packed the suitcase well enough that Aemond wouldn’t see it even if he opened it by accident.

When it was time to load up the car for the flight to Sunspear, staying in a hotel overnight before the finals tomorrow, there was a finality to it that widened the pit in your chest. Helaena had barely had you out of her arms, intent on hugging every last bit out of you so that she could savour the feeling.

“We’ll all be watching the match tomorrow” she smiled, “try not to get into too much trouble before then”

As much as you’re happy that she and her family will be there, as your manager, he will too.

Aemond had pre-warned you about that.

But to be honest, you were expecting it.

“You know me, can’t keep out of it it seems” you smile back at her, hand slipping out of hers as you move onto Alicent, who stands straight, pink lips pressed together, like one touch and she’ll just crumble into tears.

Alicent nods, picking at the top of her turtleneck, “It was so nice to have you here, sweet girl. You are welcome back whenever you like” she manages, her voice wavering with emotion.

Smiling gratefully, nothing else need be said when Alicent opens her arms to pull you into a hug, as if you were her own. She smells like expensive perfume, probably YLS, as you’d often seen the bottle poking out of her bag. At first, when you met, you found the scent overpowering, and somewhat tart. But now, as the perfume enveloped you in a warm, motherly hug, it was entirely comforting. And your heart strained in your chest, knowing that it may be a while before you get to come back.

Your face pulls into a smile as Alicent then moves onto her son, bringing a comically tall Aemond in comparison into a warm embrace. No person is more surprised than you when Aegon walks over, trying to hide how nice he’s being with humour.

“Come in. Bring it in then”

You laugh through your nose, giving him a quick hug.

“Alright, that’s enough”

You shrug, smirking, “Fine, you smell anyway”

“Ouch, I’m so fucking wounded”

You pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“I’ll be watching as well. Can’t wait to see what happens” Aegon winks.

You turn awake, feigning ignorance, “Dunno what you mean”

You fought the urge to tear up as you looked in the mirror, watching the three of them wave you away. With lips pressed together to force a smile to your face, strained with emotion, you spare them a wave back, bidding the large Targaryen House goodbye.

Once past the security gates a deep exhale exits your lungs, and Aemond’s hand wraps around your knee, stealing your attention.

You smile at him, giving a soft nod, “I’m alright”

Aemond laughs through his nose, “You’re acting like you’ll never go back” he chuckles, “I know Mum would be very offended if you didn’t”

Smiling, you know it’s probably true. That they would like you back as often as possible, no matter the outcome of the finals.

Aemond scrolls through his phone, biting the inside of his cheek, “Applications are closing soon” he muses, almost so quietly you don’t hear him unless you’re leaning close.

“For what?”

He clicks his phone off, shoving it into his sweatpants pocket, “For the new academic year” he replied anxiously.

“Philosophy and History right?” you smile, putting your hand on his to calm him, “You’ll love it, Aemond”

“I know, it’s just-” he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll be good at the whole academic side of it. It’s one thing to be interested-”

“You’ll do great because you’re interested in it” you smile, “besides there’ll be plenty of workshops on essay writing and such”

He sighs, like the idea of doing all of that is just so overwhelming right now. Not knowing what to expect, has his whole body tense.

“Finals first. Then I’ll apply” he states, turning to flash you a small, Aemond-smile. One you return with warmth.

“I’ll help you with your Personal Statement”

He laughs, “Then I’ll never get in” he jokes, making you swat his arm playfully.

It was a couple of hours on a plane to Sunspear, and with the assistance of the private jet supplied by Hightower Management, it was a simple process. The car even pulled up right next to it, allowing you both to largely avoid the media who stood behind the chain-link fence, trying to get a word or a photo from the mysterious couple.

You’d barely looked at the news. But every now and then, a notification would inevitably pop up on your phone, about your outburst and subsequent removal from the Targaryen House. Frustration boiled in your veins.

That wasn’t true.

But then again, not a lot they wrote about was true.

It happened so often, each time affected you less and less, and the quicker it was to push that aside.

An ‘unnamed insider’ had also offered their opinion.

‘There was an altercation with the Chairman of Hightower Management, in what I understand was a lapse of morals’.

You had laughed when you read it.

And so did Aemond.

Alys Rivers.

Still trying to dig her claws in, desperate for even a slither of that limelight. Of Aemond’s attention.

She wouldn’t fucking get it. No fucking way.

Aemond had joked that you’d beat her in a fist fight if need be. And you didn’t doubt it. In fact, the mental image somewhat amused you.

You looked up from your phone, the hum of the incessant jet engine vibrated through the seats. Arryk was fast asleep in the front of the jet, slumped back in his seat, with his hands clasped on his chest. His suit, inevitably crumpled with the awkward sleeping position he found himself in.

Aemond was seated next to you, earphones in, leaning back to only appear as if he were dozing.

You bite your lip, looking back down the aisle and then to Aemond.

He cracks open his eye as you stand up from your seat, a suspicious look rakes over you as you pull the jumper you were wearing over your head and huffing it onto the seat.

“Where are you going?” he asks gruffly, to which the only thing you can do is smile, seeing the way his gaze absorbs the image of what you’re wearing stuck tight to your skin.

Knowing he fucking hates it.

Hates it.

You roll your eyes.

“The toilet?” you reply sarcastically.

Gods, you know you’re pushing your luck but you just can’t help it.

You can practically feel the irritation radiating off Aemond. His lips part to say something but you’re gone with a smirk on your face before he can say anything. His harsh, determined gaze bores into the back of your head, burning a bright hole through it. You sway your hips as you walk down the aisle to the bathroom, closing the door, but not locking it.

10 seconds.

That’s how long you give it.

You pretend to wash your hands, looking in the mirror and smoothing your palms over the ponytail that sits semi-loosely at the back of your head.

5, 4, 3…

The door opens quickly and with a click it’s shut again, but this time Aemond slides the lock across. He had to duck to get into the cramped bathroom, and now with two people inside, it feels utterly stifling.

You have to bite back a smile that you’d guessed him so spot on. It hadn’t even been ten seconds. And here he stood, putting on a stoic, blank face, as if he had no intention of doing anything at all.

Your lips part to speak, but your throat is instead met with pressure, his palm flush to it and his fingers around the sides as he pushes you further into the bathroom.

“You want to get fucked?” he suggests in a dark, husky voice, the muscles in his arm tensing and untensing as his control begins to wane, “Hm?”

You can see the way he expects you to respond, but as his fingers press on the sides of your neck, it only serves to make your mind swirl with want, seeing how frustrated he is. Nothing seems to want to come out of your mouth, shock pleasantly blocking your throat.

“Think I didn’t see that? The way you rolled your eyes? Acting like a little slut?”

You swallow under his hand, his words sending a bolt of arousal straight between your legs, throbbing with desire. The way your cheeks burn makes it clear to him what you really want, coupled with the tremble that has now managed to worm its way up your legs.

In a smooth moment, your thighs hit the counter in front of the mirror, his arm now reaching widely around you to hold your head up to see his expression in the mirror. You shiver at the sensation of his hair on your skin, his nose dragging up the side of your neck, his breath eventually hot on the shell of your ear.

“You just want it, don’t you?” he grunts, pressing his now noticeable erection against your backside, his hips moving torturously slow, as if to make you wait, to tease you.

Pride rings in your body at the way he’s just so easily fallen apart the way you predicted.

“No” you tease, biting back a smile which he sees in the mirror.

His mouth drawn tightly into a line, not revealing at all what he’s thinking.

Aemond’s large hands go to your leggings, tearing them down harshly like he can’t get a good grip on them. The speed, the sheer neediness of the gesture, has arousal pooling where you need him most and your skin prickling with desire.

“We’ll see about that”

You have to spread your hands on the counter to keep yourself up as Aemond tugs your leggings down just enough and bends you over, exposing you just enough that the cool air against your core makes you shiver.

“No” he gruffs, wrapping your hair around his knuckles and tugging back to make you look in the mirror at him, “You’re going to watch”

You barely have time to think about his threat before you feel the fat head of his cock kiss your folds, pushing forward, Aemond moans breathily as he looks down to watch you take the entirety of him, squeezing his length tightly.

It feels like the air is being constantly pushed from your lungs, he doesn’t even give a moment of reprieve, one hand tugging your hair and the other kneading the fleshy globe of your ass to spread you open for him to see. His cock pistons so quickly and with such a lewd sound that for a moment, it makes you embarrassed that Arryk might actually hear from the front of the plane.

“Keep your eyes open, princess” she breathes, leaning over your neck and giving a harsh tug to remind you. You whimper as his teeth graze over your skin, combined with the way he bullies that sensitive spot inside you in this position, it all feels very too much.

“Just my little fucktoy aren’t you, hm?” he grunts against your ear. And without even thinking you nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak, your eyes dragging down to watch the ceaseless rocking of his hips slapping against you.

He delivers a hard slap to your ass, “Say it”.

“ - yes, I am - I am -”

Aemond groans, burying himself as deep as he can inside you with each devastating thrust, “Yeah, that’s right -”

You gasp loudly, eyes slipping shut as his hand makes his way to your front, his thumb drawing harsh circles against your clit. It’s more pressure than you anticipated to such a sensitive area, and it has your body pushing back to meet his, desperate.

“ - fuck, Aemond -”

“ - not my name, princess-”

Just when you’re about to lose it, he ceases his movements to your clit and slows his pace dramatically and he chuckles darkly when you whine with annoyance.

“If you want to cum, I want to hear it-”

You can’t help but feel irritated. You are so, so close. It’s unfair.

“Come on, you can do it, baby-”

With a strained, annoyed tone, “-fuck, daddy please - I’m so close-”

You feel him grin against your neck, “better”

Nothing feels more overwhelming than when he picks up the pace again, blood feeling as if it’s on fire as it hums around your body, right to your little bundle of nerves that Aemond hasn’t left alone.

“-that’s it, cum around my cock, princess-”

And you do.

Hard.

So much so that Aemond has to put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. Especially when his pace never falters, and he fucks you through your orgasm with the same vigour. Aemond moans as your walls flutter around him, squeezing his length tightly.

He pulls out, fisting his length quickly in his fist, a shuddered groan falling from his glorious lips as his warm cum coats your bare pussy. It’s near-pornographic, the way it feels to be covered by him, and even more so when he smears his cum over your slit with the head of his cock.

You smile tiredly, seeing that this little act is something that Aemond enjoys doing often.

Perhaps it's his way of reminding you you're his.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect-” he praises, “-baby you’ve made such a mess- come on, be a good girl-”

You’re near breathless as he pushes you to your knees in front of him, covering your lips with the cum that glazes his cock before plunging into your mouth. You let your jaw relax as Aemond makes the slow, lazy pace, using your mouth to clean the aftermath off his length.

You moan around him, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue.

“That’s it - you like me using your mouth, don’t you-”

You make a noise of confirmation as he continues to use you, making his head tip back at the vibrations stimulating his oversensitive cock.

He pulls you off by your hair, looking down at you reverently, using his thumb to swipe whatever was left on your lips back into your mouth.

As your eyes meet, both of you light up in a smile.

"Seven fucking Hells, what am I going to do with you" he smiles lovingly.

The Dornish heat was nothing compared to that little bathroom.

The air was crisp as you exited the plane, a dull, but satisfied ache between your thighs. In fact, Arryk had looked at you both with some level of barely-contained suspicion when you came out the bathroom on the flight, and you’d flushed bright red when he asked if you were alright, and swatted Aemond when he made no attempt to hide his smugness and laughed out loud.

The hotel was lavish, and entirely different in style from the hotels you were used to on the tour. The floors were marble, the walls largely made of stone, with bright and vibrant colours decorating the tall ceilings and walls.

Even people’s fashion was different. Flowy fabrics of silk and light linens, probably due to the intense heat, which was already making it difficult to concentrate.

You gave Aemond a look when the receptionist gave you one key.

As if being in on an inside joke of sorts.

The last time you were forced to share one room, it was a very different circumstance.

The room was spacious and utterly luxurious, but you’d expect nothing less from the Martells.

The bed was enclosed with panels of delicate details surrounding it, along with silks of various vibrancies to lift it. The floor was marble, and a nice cooling sensation in comparison to the stifling air.

And as Aemond snaked his arms around your waist as you looked out onto the balcony at the lavish gardens, leaning down to bite at your neck softly, your eyes slipped shut.

“Aemond the finals are tomorrow, we have to practi-”

“And I intend to” he whispered back, kissing higher and higher on your neck, while one of his hands sank lower and lower, til they were beneath the waistband of your leggings.

“It’s still early, Princess” he mused.

You had both christened the bed that afternoon, and later on, any available flat surface Aemond could find, he would do things that would make even Aegon blush.

Unlike the other hotels, there was only one ice rink in Sunspear, and it would be the one you’d be using tomorrow to compete against the Martells. It was a bit annoying having to book in a spot to go over the routine, and you and Aemond had already practised beyond measure, but it was still nice to get a few more sessions in before the big day.

Surprisingly, you felt okay, and Aemond was the nervous one. Even though realistically, there was little outcome for Aemond, whether you won or not.

You sigh, the cool air of the rink hitting your skin, “At least it’s nice and cool in here”

Huffing your bag onto the floor, you look behind at him when he doesn’t reply.

Aemond, with a stoic expression, only gestured with his head in the direction of the stands.

Larys Strong sits there, his cane in hand.

His head is angled down, so that he’s looking over the bridge of his brow, his darkened eyes flitting between you and Aemond from where he’s seated in the middle of the rows of seats, which tomorrow, would be filled with people.

Immediately, irritation gnaws at your insides. And the only saving grace is Aemond’s careful hand on your arm, grounding you.

You make no effort to go to him.

He will come to you if he wants to speak.

It almost pleases you that it takes him so long to stand and step down to the ice rink, so that it gives you more time to think of what to say. You go to move away to speak to him, but Aemond’s fingers tighten, holding you close to him.

He wanted to stay with you.

“Aemond” Larys greeted first, leaning on his cane as he stopped before you both, smirking as he searched both of your faces.

Aemond didn’t respond.

“What do you want?” you ask, getting swiftly to the point, as you knew he wouldn’t.

Larys bowed his head, as if briefly embarrassed and wondering what to say, his slick wavy brown hair not moving around his shoulders.

“I am here for the finals-”

“That’s not what I asked” you added quickly, “to the point, please”

You didn’t see the barely-contained smirk that Aemond was struggling to keep at bay behind you. It turned out, he rather liked to see you angry.

Larys floundered noticeably.

“You had seen my emails?”

“I had”

Larys raised an eyebrow, “and it was insufficient?”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t hide your contempt, “You expected me to go to the press?”

“I thought that was the plan”

“There was no plan. Nor an exchange of terms between you and I. I sought your help because I thought you had information on my employment, and you did. There is nothing more to say”

He goes quiet for a moment, before lifting his signature smirk to his face.

“I see the Ice Princess has some fire in her”

Aemond’s grip tightens, as if he’s ready to explode at any moment.

“I do hope Floris is alright” he muses, taking a short step forward, “it’d be a shame for such a capable skater to retire so soon into her career”

Your eyebrows furrow.

Was that a fucking threat?

Larys smirks slightly, appearing to have hit the nerve he was after.

"Good luck with the finals"

"Watch it" Aemond responds, keeping a firm grip on your arm. Now because he's afraid you might actually hurt him.

Larys laughs through his nose.

Fuck you.

You and Aemond watch with bated breath as Larys leaves slowly, the clang of the double doors rattling behind him.

Aemond let's out a breath.

"Should I be watching where I put my skates now?" You ask him, half joking. But it earns a breathy laugh nonetheless.

"You say that. Maybe you should"

Practice goes as expected.

The routine is intricate, perhaps the most technical so far, but in a nice way. Working with Aemond now, when everything had been addressed was nice.

Gods it was so nice.

It almost made you sad that he wanted to retire after the finals.

He was so graceful. For such a tall guy, lined with lean muscle, he had such elegance on the ice. Wasn't afraid to show off, which the judges would no doubt love.

The song?

Swan Lake. The Ending Song.

A bold choice of Otto's.

Was that a threat too? Perhaps?

It didn't bother you too much, as you'd found a perfect place within the song to do what you had planned for weeks.

And gods, it'd all be worth it to see his face.

It was all very surreal.

A flurry of texts crowded your screen on the morning of the finals.

Rhaenys.

Baela. Rhaena.

Floris.

El.

Even some of your family.

Estranged family.

You're certain you blocked their number.

You sigh, pulling the towel around yourself and walking out of the open wet room. Aemond is laid flat on his back on the bed, a damp cold cloth applied to the marred eye.

If you didn't know any better, he looked asleep.

"Still bothering you?" You ask.

He just makes a noise of confirmation. His eye not moving.

You rub his arm lovingly as you sit next to him.

His eye had been bothering him all night, so much so that embarrassingly (his words) he'd had to remove the glass eye he wore and slept without it to alleviate the pain.

He'd looked so vulnerable when he showed you.

As if you'd run away when you saw it.

But instead, your heart leapt. You were more lovey than usual after a little drink at the bar with Aemond after practice, and you'd pressed your lips to his scarred cheek. Lingering.

Little did you know, that his heart leapt as well.

And when you slept, moulded in each other's arms.

It felt like it was always meant to be this way.

It changed something.

"Do you want some painkillers?" You ask softly,

"I'm alright, just took some…waiting for them to kick in"

Patting his arm, you give him a reassuring smile, though he can't see it.

Making sure he's not looking, you sneak the outfit out of your suitcase and into your bag for later. Biting your lip, you try hard to contain the excitement in your veins. And nerves as well.

For a lot of things.

Ping!

You laugh through your nose.

Scrolling, you check the other messages you have.

You laugh at that too.

Gods she's such a boomer. It's kind of painful.

You shoot her a quick text back, clearing the texts from your family without replying.

Not like they deserve it anyway.

Everytime you see a text from them now, it only reminds you of why Otto hired you.

Bad circumstances.

Someone of low background.

Ugh fuck him.

Fuck. Him.

With a barge pole if needed.

Aemond huffs as he gets up, squinting and looking over at you, "ready to dance with the vipers?"

"Oh more than ready" you smile at him.

You're thankful you have your own dressing room at least. To get everything right without Aemond's curious eye constantly looking at you.

No time for quickies this time round.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hair all done into a ponytail with curls falling from it. Decorated with glitter hairspray and little pearls. Your outfit is black, as Otto had said it would be in his email. The corset is almost velvet like, with a slight v at the top (which made it difficult to initiate your plan, but you managed).  And the mesh skirt over the leotard sways like a cloud over your legs.

You steel yourself.

You can do this.

When you go out to the hallway, looking down to the ice rink, where the stands are entirely full with the echoed chatter of the audience, your skin immediately prickles with nerves.

You feel Aemond's hand on the small of your back, making heat crawl up your neck.

"Feeling okay?" He asks in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

You don't think you'll ever get over the feeling you get when you see him with his sapphire eye.

It literally takes your breath away.

But his scar looks reddened somewhat.

You furrow your brows, "Are you?" You ask, concerned, "your eye. It looks sor-"

"I'm fine" he says quickly.

I don't believe that.

You can see the way he's trying to be brave about it. His jaw tight and his good eye looking anywhere but you, as if he knows he'll be found out.

"Aemond we don't have to. If you're in pain-"

"No. I want to do this for you" he urges.

For you.

You swear for a moment your heart skips a beat, stilling in your chest as the rest of you gets warm.

Aemond can never be forced.

He's stubborn like that.

A Targaryen trait, you muse.

But you know deep down, he won't heed your warning. He's headstrong. Completely sure of his own opinion, rightly or wrongly.

There's something about it now though, which doesn't feel right.

"I'm alright, princess. Promise" he adds, taking one of your hands in his while he takes in your outfit.

"You look nice" he says, forcing a smile to his face. His hand goes over your sleeves to the clips at the top. He plays with them briefly, as if wondering what they are before you playfully slap his hand away.

"Off"

He gives you a look.

A suspicious one.

He knows you're up to something.

Then he smiles.

Again a forced one, but stubbornness will kill him first.

As you both walk towards the ice rink, journalists, media, the judges, the faces of the audience as well as the Martells all serve to wake your nerves.

You wave at Rhaenys in the crowd, Baela and Rhaena seated either side of her.

"There they are, the Ice Prince and Princess. Ready for the finals in their all black get up"

"They appear to be closer this time, speaking in hushed voices- oh! Was that a kiss I saw?"

"It was! Perhaps there is more to this mere partnership than meets the eye"

Aemond whispers to you, "up in the stands, to the right"

When you follow his eyeline, your face drops and you turn to avoid the cameras from getting a good look at your expression.

Otto Hightower sits there.

Alone.

Good.

He's looking down at you both, chin high but his gaze looking over his nose like you're shit at the bottom of his shoe. His hands are clasped in expectancy, clearly desiring a favourable outcome to the performance.

But at least now you know where he is, so you can see the look on his face.

The thought of it has an evil smirk rise to your face.

"Are we going first?" You ask.

Aemond nods.

Fuck. You hate going first.

And as if by magic-

"Aemond fucking Targaryen. The One-Eyed wonder!"

Qoren's voice has a tendency to travel. And right now, it's travelling through every nerve in you, jolting them awake. He walks over with a swagger, a slowness, clad entirely in bright mustard and wine tones, akin to his partner who is sat on the bench scrolling through her phone.

Aemond sighs, "Qoren" he greets flatly, rubbing his thumb against his temple on the marred side of his face.

"Just wanted to say good luck" Qoren smirks, nudging a curled wave out his face, "I'm certain you won't need it"

Cunt.

That's what you want to say.

Instead, you roll your eyes and take Aemond's hand leading him to the ice rink.

"Ignore him" you tell him, pulling of the blade guards and tossing them aside.

Aemond huffs a laugh, "Seven Hells, if he's in your bad books he's done for" he replies, joining you as you both go out onto the ice to do a few laps.

"Our Crownlands couple look ready and composed for a challenge today"

"And a challenge it will be. It's never easy going first, especially against the Martells. They'll have to work for it"

You skate next to him for a few warm-up laps, the heat rising again to your face as he takes your hand, giving his signature one sided smile.

Your heart flutters pleasantly.

In front of all these people?

He sees your reaction.

"I'm not going to hide anything anymore, princess" he says softly, "I've done it for far too long"

One part of you wants to cry with joy.

The other wants to drag him to the nearest dark corner.

So instead, you squeeze his hand. A good compromise.

As you skate to a halt in the middle, you mouth the words.

'I love you'

And your heart roars with delight.

He mouths it back.

"Our couple seem utterly smitten with each other"

"Their chemistry rivals the Martells, for sure!"

Taking a deep breath, you and Aemond nod to each other, getting in position to wait until the music starts.

It's quiet.

You could hear a pin drop.

His hand is warm.

The clarinets begin to play, the opening sequence of violins accompanying the music as you and Aemond begin the medium paced routine. The only sound you both can hear is the blades tearing through the ice, the rustle of your clothing against each other and the shallow breaths between each movement of the routine, moving swiftly hand in hand, twirling and feeling light and airy as Aemond lifts you effortlessly.

The music is almost frantic, the trumpets are getting so loud that they almost vibrate the ice beneath you. But you concentrate on the routine at hand, letting Aemond take your weight with each quick lift into the air, each synchronised motion perfectly executed.

“Quite a quick routine from the couple. Good choice of song and good technical ability so far”

“Yes, they really look like a proper team now, don’t they?”

As the music picks up momentum, you briefly glance at the stands mid-spin, smirking when you spot Otto’s eyes half closed, looking right at you. As if wondering what it is you are thinking.

Drums.

As Aemond moves in front of you for a split second, your hands lift to your shoulders, unpopping the buttons there.

No going back now.

Aemond looks over you in brief shock as the black is completely encompassed, a sheet of dark green falling over it like a curtain, replacing the beaded darkness with the bright forest colour he was so used to seeing his mother wear on her old performances.

It quickly changes to a barely-contained smile as the fabric laps at your thighs, the green mesh replacing the translucent black, right as the music hits its crescendo.

"Oh my-is that what I think it is!"

"Hightower Green looks very good on our Ice Princess!"

You don’t even have time to look at Otto.

The audience is a mix of clapping, awes and shouting of support. Never wavering for a moment.

Aemond continues the routine with a big, boyish smile plastered onto his face, performing the rest of the moves and lifts with a renewed vigour and passion that was not there before.

The rest of it seems to fly by, assisted by the smitten way you look at one another. Before you even know it, the music has died out. You and Aemond face each other, foreheads almost touching as the applause roars around you, several items like flowers and flags being thrown onto the ice around you.

It’s difficult to describe Aemond’s expression. Awe? Affection? Lust?

Love.

All you know is that you love it. And that all this was worth it.

You’re about to open your mouth, when his hands find each side of your face, his fingers holding the back of your head desperately, as he crashes his lips to yours.

In front of everyone.

In front of all of Westeros.

It feels exhilarating. Adrenaline boils the blood inside you, burning for him. And when you part, breathless after not only that, but the energy of the routine, all you can do is smile. Feeling so in love with him it’s honestly disgraceful.

Hand in hand, you bow to the audience, a massive grin plastered on your face. Rhaenys, Baela and Rhaena are all stood, clapping passionately. Larys is seated at the end of a particular row, both hands clasped on his cane, smirking beneath it, as if he just loves watching the drama unfold.

And then Otto.

You’re happy to find he looks absolutely livid.

That's right, you think. This is where my loyalties lie.

Aemond’s grip tightens on you as you give your bow to the judges. But it’s not a tight, comforting hold. Not one of victory, or love.

“Aemond?..” you ask, turning to him.

He’s breathing heavily, his other hand pressed to the scarred side of his face, his good eye blinking quickly as he turns to you.

Your face blanches, “Aemond, what’s wrong-”

“I’m fine, it’s just-ah fuck”

He nearly doubles over in pain, his hand pressed painfully to the left side of his face, the faintest bit of blood trickling between his fingers.

Panic rings through you, and with your hands on his sides, you guide him on the ice towards the edge, helping him sit, ignoring the muffled whispers and rumours that echo around the atrium, “let me see, Aemond..”

He shakes his head erratically, “No, no, just-I’m okay”

“Aemond you are not okay” you urge, watching the way his other eye waters from the pain, his face going pink as he encourages himself to take deep breaths.

“It appears he may have some sort of injury. We’re waiting on some updates from management”

“Who do you need me to call?” you ask him hurriedly,

“I don’t know-fucking-call Mum, please” he replies pitifully, bending over in searing, hot pain that radiates from his eye socket.

Spotting Arryk, you rush over and grab his phone that he throws, pulling it to your ear while rubbing Aemond’s shoulder.

“Aemond, take the sapphire out, it’s just going to hurt you more-”

“No, no, I can’t-” he shakes his head, panicked and scared.

“Aemond”

When his good eye meets you, he looks so vulnerable and unsure you almost regret your tone.

But you just want him to be okay.

Turning away, he dislodges the sapphire, his hand still covering his face, despite having the utmost trust in you, he still doesn’t want you to see it, all red and sore.

“Hello, Alicent? Yeah I think Aemond is having one of his neurological-fuck-I don’t know-episodes? I don’t know what to do?” you speak nervously into the phone.

“I know, I know, sweet girl. He needs to go to Urgent Care right away, and needs his glycerol injections, alright? Where’s my father?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see him!”

“He has Aemond’s health insurance card, okay, find him and get him to hospital as soon as you can. okay? Has he taken the sapphire out?”

“Yes, I made him”

“Good. Until he gets to hospital, just apply a warm compress and keep him calm, okay? You can do this”

You hang up quickly, looking around and spotting Otto as he paves his way through the crowd of people. Still rubbing Aemond’s shoulder, all notions of hating him are gone in favour of helping the quivering, vulnerable man in front of you, whining pitifully as his nerves are set aflame.

“Otto, he needs to go to a hospital. Do you have his health card?”

Stoically, he nods, his eyes ignoring you, “I do, Arryk will take us. Come on”

He assists Aemond to his feet, leading him to the exit with urgency.

The fire doors open and Aemond turns to you, “You have to stay”

“What? No! I’m coming with you!”

“One of us has to stay, we’ll get disqualified” he reasons, with a wavering voice.

“Aemond, I don’t care about-”

“Well I do. Stay” he urges.

You go quiet, staring at him in disbelief and also shock. And seeing it all over your face, how conflicted both of you are, he leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers stroking your hair lovingly.

“I’ll be fine, baby..” he adds softly, “Stay”

You watch him hurry out of the fire escape, and straight into the back of Arryk’s car with Otto. He’s so doubled over in pain, clutching the sapphire in one fist, that he barely has any time to look back at you standing there, the warm air making the mesh skirt lap at your legs.

You only meet his worried gaze at the last second.

A shuddered breath tumbles from your lips, the adrenaline and panic of the last few minutes just sinking in. You feel a bit helpless, unable to do anything for him as he’s driven to hospital.

“Hey” the soothing voice of Rhaenys at your side pulls you out, and you look at her with bleary eyes, “are you alright?”

You nod quickly, “Yeah, I think so..”

She guides you back inside, sitting at the sidelines, “Sit here, I’ll get you a drink”

You can’t relax. The room feels like it’s spinning.

“Just a little update. Aemond Targaryen has been rushed to hospital in what we believe is an episode of acute pain due to a long-standing condition”

“We’ll wish him all the best in hospital and hope it isn’t anything too serious”

Rhaenys gives you a warm cup of coffee, but you can’t drink it, you’re too on edge already. And if any caffeine is pumped into your already hammering heart, you think it might explode.

You don’t even concentrate on the performance the Martells are doing, eyes nowhere near the scoreboard. Your leg bounces nervously, fully aware that you are probably being scrutinised endlessly by the media, with hundreds of articles already written about you.

Their orange and red outfits dance in your periphery. Spins, twists, lifts. Things that right now, don’t mean an awful lot to you. All you can think about is when Aemond turned to you, blood trickling between his fingers, face twisted in pain.

“Hey…”

You don’t even realise you’ve zoned out until Rhaenys taps your arm excitedly.

Shaking your head, you look around, everyone’s stood. Smiling. Clapping. The Martells are lazily skating their way to their end of the rink, talking with their manager, with bowed heads.

“Wha?..” you reply, completely dazed, “what’s happened?..”

“Qoren’s partner fucked her landing. They’re a whole 10 points short on the technical. Not including the penalty they’re likely to get” she replies, leaning closely to whisper it, a victorious smirk on her face.

Oh shit.

Your eyes meet the scoreboard, watching as the rest of the scores come in.

With the penalty, they’re tragically low. But your breath feels hot in your throat still.

This was always the part you hated.

Rhaenys’ ring-clad hand grips yours tightly.

The crowd's cheer, applause and shouts of support are nothing compared to the roaring in your ears.

"We won"

Entirely shocked beyond words and comprehension, Rhaenys pulls you into a hug, jumping up and down excitedly. Your face is blanched with shock, eyes still, and you realise you must look a total idiot to everyone else. The reality of the situation still not entirely dawning on you.

"The Crownlands have done it. The Championship title is theirs!"

"Shame our Ice Prince cannot be there to receive his trophy"

"Go! Go!" Rhaenys urges, pushing you by your shoulders to the stands where the judges are all grinning, holding the trophy, medals and large bouquet of gloriously colourful flowers.

It's a blurred slew of 'well done' and 'congratulations'.

The Martells, though devastated, nod in your direction in congratulations. And you barely hear it, but Qoren even seems to offer some sort of kind words for Aemond's condition.

Still doesn't make him less of a twat.

The trophy, long and golden, is heavy in your hands, rested against your shoulder, with the flowers pushed into your other, shoulders sagging with the weight of two medals around your neck.

Aemond.

With a few quick thank yous and bows of your head, your panicked, searching eyes find Rhaenys, who already has her car keys and your jacket in her grip.

"Come on" she utters, "quickly"

It feels utterly silly to still be wearing the green outfit for the competition while riding in the passenger seat of Rhaenys' Mercedes. But at least your black jacket provides some semblance of normality. You didn't even have time to take the medals off.

You did however, change your shoes, shucking your skates off in the footwell of her car.

She's driving well over the speed limit. But hey, most of Sunspear are as well. Through several junctions, she even graces some of the locals with her middle finger.

If you weren't so taut with nerves, it'd make you laugh.

The tyres screech loudly as she pulls into the hospital car park, the trophy nestled between your legs nearly making you trip over yourself as you hurl yourself out the car door.

Those tell-tale clicks of camera shutters and the echo of incessant questions are instantly upon you.

With the trophy loosely in one hand, all you can do is run to the entrance of the hospital, where the media are not allowed.

This time, they part a path for you.

The security guards at the front who have been fending them off, see your outfit, medals and trophy and immediately slip the door open, "Room 47"

You nod in thanks, your breath feeling like blood in your throat from the effort of running so fast and so suddenly. The lights inside the hospital hallways are stark, clinical, and far too bright. Your trainers thud against the linoleum floor, eyes desperately searching for the numbers on the rooms.

"25...24...shit, I'm going the wrong way-"

Aemond.

It doesn't help in the slightest that the hospital is a complete maze. You probably look a complete mess, pink in the face, hair all mussed up from running, but it's the last thing on your mind.

At the end of the hallway, you spot Otto, chatting with a dark-haired man in a white coat. Engaged in conversation, only looking up when the tide of loud footsteps comes closer to them.

You don't care about that either.

Otto tries to reach out to stop you from going in, but you're too fast, fiddling with the handle of the door before he has a chance to pull you back.

It's quiet. Your hurried breathing sounds so loud in your chest.

The door slams into the wall and Aemond looks up, seated sideways on the hospital bed. His cheeks are pink, from the remnants of pain that still linger, but he looks calmer, relaxed, with his brows unfrowned and sitting comfortably on his forehead. His hair, that was so neatly styled for the competition in his signature bun is somewhat curled from the sweat on his forehead and back of his neck.

A surgical patch is taped over his left eye.

His lips twitch when he sees you there, his right eye gleaming with affection, clearly out of breath, having ran the entire length of the hospital to get to him.

"Hey Princess..." he says softly, in a way that never fails to make your heart lurch into your throat.

You almost cry with relief that he's alright.

He licks his dry lips, "Did we do it?..."

With a relieved smile, a lump forming in your throat with emotion, you nod quickly, "Yeah...yeah we did..."

The breath is expelled from your lungs near-painfully when you surge towards each other, throwing your arms around one another, the trophy propped on the floor where you were previously stood.

He feels warm, with his hands around you like this, his heart thrumming fast in his chest. Your body sags against him.

He feels like home.

You hear him inhale, the familiar scent of you immediately having a calming effect on his body, his hand raising to brush your hair from your face as his palms cup either side of it, pressing a light feather-like kiss to your forehead.

His thumb wipes your undereye of moisture. But his smile says it all, his eyes crinkling, briefly irritating the spot where he's obviously had his glycerol injections not a moment before.

"I never doubted you" he utters quietly, "...not for a second"

You give a watery laugh. Hardly recognising this Aemond compared to the one you first met.

Competitions.

Scores.

Drama.

It all means fucking nothing.

The future. Happiness. It's all right here.

"Aemond Targaryen, don't ever scare me like that again..." you smile at him, half-joking, fingers tenderly stroking along his jawline, prickles of regrowth rubbing comfortingly along your skin.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, his mouth opening slightly as he smiles.

"No promises, princess"

And finally, with a pleased little muffled sound crawling up your throat, his tender, full lips descend onto yours, sealing whatever is felt between you right now and all that has happened before.

It doesn't even need to be said. Those three little words.

Because they're just not enough.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

[justblades]

⌕ BUSINESS PARTNERS WITH BENEFITS, 18+

⟢ CHARACTER : sampo koski x afab! reader WC : 1.3k

⟢ WARNINGS : MDNI. public teasing, oral (male receiving), throat f, finger f.

everyone gets to witness sampo's absurdity. from his ludicrous backhanded methods whether to be of aid or to fool— that's how they perceive sampo koski. little do they know, among the many 'partnerships' he formed to which he singlehandedly decides, he actually has a business partner, a mutual connection. almost anyone who comes across him etch on their minds he's either to be trusted or disregarded. the two sides tiptoeing upon the boundaries every single time.

it's not just that. he oftentimes gets sidetracked whenever the dyad is commencing a dangerous operation. be it gathering intel from the enemies hideout, he'd still have the time to gawk over your body like he was to descend into insanity if he wasn't given a chance to douse the flames of his lustful tendencies.

and that's how you ended up in this bizarre situation. sampo laps your sprawled out mounds, gloved hands fiddling with your hardened nipples. you bite your lip in an attempt to stifle the moans threatening to slip out, as comical sampo appears from his choice of words and personality— he still manages to pleasure you in all kinds of ways, all for the sake of quenching his thirst for intimacies.

your breath hitches, and as bad as it can get, a soldier whips his head to the source of the weak noises, following his intuition. you knew full well being in cramped up spaces with sampo can be a handful to manage, among the many times you reminded him to focus on your jobs, he shrugs it off and proudly proclaims he'll still get it done in spite of you doing it in the middle of an operation.

and he always does. sampo may be deceving at times but his words never fall on his back. sampo's lush green eyes fixate on your expressions, finding enjoyment at how your eyes squint from the jolts of pleasure he sends into your system. he inches forward your face, tip of your noses just a hair's breadth away. "i can't get enough of this."

your eyebrows furrow in exchange, "i thought it'd be just this?" you ask, irritation seethes through your teeth. "when have we ever been caught whenever we do it? come on, we've been partners for years already. is sampo koski really that much of a doubtful figure?" his usual cocky, teasing tone laces his words, beaming you a sheepish smile right after.

in a sense, he's right. and that's exactly how you fall prey on his words. lastly, it's not bad, it is always a great past time when the intel hasn't been leaked yet to the other side. that was exactly it - you two have been business partners with benefits since long ago, making it a hobby to do the deed regardless of time and place, all for the sake of fun, cooperation, and lastly, money.

you slowly rid yourself of clothes, being careful not to draw much attention. meanwhile the bi-haired male basks in his momentary victory, reveling in the moment he won over your rationality.

sampo glides his gloved hand to your inner thighs, a sinister smirk plastered on his lips— with no hesitation lingering in his mind, he rubs viscules on your slit with his thumb finger swiftly, finding your region at such a fast rate, taking into account that he can't see nothing but pitch black darkness and the way you look underneath him.

he has your body memorized as if it was the back of his hand, one of the many things he's skilled at, although it's uncertain whether he should be proud of that. the corners of his lips tug further upwards as soon as he feels the liquids come in contact with his skin, dampening his onyx gloves.

with a rapid thrust, he pumps his digits in and out of your hole. you melt into pleasures, mind starting to be clouded with nothing but sampo's shit eating grins. perhaps you were more sensitive to his touches today since the teasing was too prolonged, and of course, it was intentional, all planned out by the master in control.

his bashful smile never ceases, a rapid rush of determination gushes through his veins. "if only you weren't appealing and so good at this, i would've gone for your neck a long time ago." fortunately, your words were muddled with the soldiers' fancy stories that they were unable to hear your threats.

sampo, as if it was engraved in his soul, replies with the same attitude as usual. "why thank you for the compliment." you scoff, but the huff of breath you heaved immediately got followed by a soft mewl, the navy haired curls his fingers inside your walls as he could feel you squeezing him tight.

"ahh, i wish i were inside you right now." he muses and proceeds to rest his head on the soft beds of your chest. a crease forms between your brows for the nth time, not until he had something up his sleeve once again. it only made sense when a surprising warm feeling slicks on your skin, in stark contrast to the chilling temperature deep inside this spacious building.

a realization dawns on your perturbed mind, maybe it would be easier if you part your lips open and let the breathing noises erupt, rather than trying to hold them back which could lead to your cover being blown. and finally, "dismissed." the soldiers say and leave the room in unison, and you could feel the heavy weight on your chest instantly dissipate into the air.

the two of you scoot out of the small cabinet and immediately locked the metal doors. "i've been in the receiving end for way too long." your eyes spark with hopes of revenge for sampo teasing you like that to which he promptly notices. "no, i—" you push him on the tabletop and hold him down with a hand on his sculpted pecs. as your other free hand travel down to his bulge, you were caught in surprise once you felt a particular spot wet.

you've known him for too long, the same goes for his clothing. if it got this damp despite the thick pants he's wearing, it is no doubt: he came from teasing you alone. you click your tongue in annoyance but proceed to kneel in front of him anyway, still set out on making him whimper and plead for mercy.

if anything, it's better he already came, this way, you could make use of his heightened sensitivity to your advantage. his cock grows hard again and you coil your hands around its body. it throbs from the slightest, feather touches - and you did not dawdle any further. enveloping the margins of your lips from the head of his dick, you try your best to provide more space.

skillfully brushing your sultry tongue from his cock's small folds, sampo throws his head back in pleasure. "h-hey, i'm still sensitive, i just came—" you gobble all his length, proceeding to bob your head up and down, building momentum while finding the right timing to quicken the pace as well.

he whimpers as he feels the crown of his dick hit the farthest back of your throat, "e-eno—" you fiddle with his ballsacks as well, gripping on them tightly, playing around to see what kind of play sampo would like today. with no forewarnings, strings of milky white liquids sprawl into your mouth, a hint of sourness and sweetness breaks through your tastebuds.

as a perfect business partner you were, you gulp all of it down, your mouth perfectly clean of any evidences from sampo's satisfaction. you watch on sampo's lifeless body, appearing like the soul was sucked out of him. fatigue gnaws at his bones meanwhile you chortle - one that was of a mocking tone. "a well deserved defeat."

my masterlist !

[weebsinstash]

hey, can I have more husband and wife family dynamics with thragg? maybe more about her pregnancy or the kids' childhood/baby time?

Sure can! It's been pretty fun writing about potential scenarios where this monstrous piece of shit can actually feel love. First and foremost I was watching a video on YouTube going over this scene again and uh Comic Readers KNOW How Fucked This Man Is. um, out of context vague spoilers but, I'm assuming people asking about Thragg have read the comics or are curious about the comics but like yall Need To Know how he treats the kids of his enemies

I feel like I need to share/remind people of this scene because like, this man can be kind of hard to pin down. He's from this loveless society that sees kindness as weakness and he's like King Dickhead but there are still times when he can be quite courteous, even apologetic, sarcastic, whatever. I think at the end of the day he's just a very selfish, explosive, emotionally impulsive man but revisiting this scene was a little surprising for me since I forgot he was even like, capable of "small kindnesses" like saying sorry or whatever. Like. Is him wiping her tears while smearing blood all over her face a well intentioned accident or is he like waging psychological warfare on this like, i think she's literally 5 years old. What is the purpose of him apologizing to a child for splashing blood of her family member on her when he intends to kill her or leave her for dead in front of her dying parents anyways. I'm still trying to get a feel on this man

THAT BEING SAID, moving on, we're talking about a yandere Thragg today and thankfully that comes with perks

- it's pretty obvious but like, you are his favorite mate and your children are his favorite children. I like to think of concepts with Reader being Ursaal and Onaan's mother or even the previously mentioned triplet idea with Mark being their sibling (otherwise I'd have to invent new characters and that doesn't, resonate the same, and I also really like Ursaal actually and I feel like there's some real story potential in Ursaal discovering more of her humanity through her mother's kindness and wanting to protect her mother from her father)

-can you imagine like. I still think about the idea where you're actually Nolan's mate but one day you mouth off to Thragg and he "puts you in your place" in front of Nolan as a punishment to you both and like a month later you find out you're pregnant and, I imagine abortions are only done on Viltrum if the fetus is too weak or defective, so you're forced to carry it and you and Nolan are lying that it's his and then one day Thragg just, passes by, sees your swelling tummy, takes one sniff of you, "it's mine" and demands a paternity test. And you'd think, "oh surely he'd just take the baby" which is what you'd prefer but, no it becomes a pretext for him to steal you from Nolan altogether

-you're fed incredibly nutrient dense, protein packed, ultimate pregnancy food because Thragg wants those babies as healthy as possible. Thragg has probably had other alien kids before but these are his first hybrid or nearly fully Viltrumite children and that makes them special. New dad Thragg holding up these little absolute mammoths of newborns with all their chunk and pudge and rolls and he's just so proud, "look at how robust these children are! Surely they have inherited my strength! Fine additions to the Viltrum Empire were born on this day" and you're like half awake in bed and he just, pets your hair

-ok just. Ok just picture it like. You're pregnant and upset and so stressed out because you didn't want to be Nolan's mate after he helped conquer Earth but at least you had known him and liked him initially. You're just constantly stressed out and angry and watching every single word you say around Thragg because you don't know him or what he's capable of, but I imagine a sort of scenario where he's taking you to the doctor and running tests and procedures and just, you know prenatal checkup stuff, but the doctors are all speaking to Thragg instead of you, you aren't even being told your own test results, and the two of you finally arrive back home and you just break down crying and kind of tear into him, "I'm sure YOU have had lots of kids before but I'VE never had a baby before and I don't know what to expect or what's going to happen or- or -" and you're just bawling because, it's not a lie you're scared. You're having a baby and you're gonna be a new mom and it's entirely against your will, out of your control, and that's incredibly stressful. And this becomes a moment where Thragg actually shows some humanity by sitting you down and discussing the doctors visit with you, and that's one of the first times the two of you actually have a civil, extended conversation

Thragg thinking he's so fucking big and tough and then he sees you this little fragile fleshy untrained civillian with the big teary boo hoo eyes with your shaking hands on your little belly as you cry about being scared about giving birth to his baby and he's just, "shit I DO have feelings" and immediately feels the overwhelming need to comfort you. He'll comfort you under the guise of "stress isn't good for the children" which is true but, it's him blanketing his own concern and masking it under an excuse

-I kind of feel like that hypothetical event would be like, a footnote in your relationship. He starts treating you differently, attentive in new ways, more... emotional ways. He'll stop by while he's working on a break or something to check on with you and the assigned caretakers he has guarding you (because the very second you're confirmed pregnant you have 24/7 security) and he'll awkwardly grunt out questions about, have you eaten yet, are you experiencing any pain today, any discomfort, any new symptoms. He'll check in with your guards/nannies privately about if there's anything you're doing that he needs to know about, give tou a nice husbandly shoulder touch and then (reluctantly) getting back to work

-to be blunt part of me questions if he even has sex to create children or if he uses something akin to IVF and I only say this because of the absolute ASSEMBLY LINE he sets up on Thraxia. Trust me though he beats the kitty up with you CONSTANTLY

-I actually think after giving birth is like the ONE time you're allowed any birth control because apparently if you have too many pregnancies in too close time frames it actually sucks the calcium out of your bones and can give you osteoarthritis and Thragg wants you healthy, "for more future children obviously" which is such a lie because let's say you have your miracle birth of giving him twins or triplets or whatever but you hemmorage and become infertile or whatever. Mf is STILL keeping you around. When you think about it he technically doesn't even need you to help raise his children, he has people for that, but he forces you to be part of the process anyways

- tbh I kind of like the idea of Thragg developing some weird fucking like complex where he discovers he feels comforted cuddling you, like man gets hit by oxytocin like a fucking freight train, and it becomes him literally being unable to sleep without you in his arms. You could be in a yelling screaming argument with this man and he suddenly like, just completely shuts you down, "ENOUGH!! I require rest and I won't tolerate anymore of your childish whining!" And you could be spitting mad at him and he's just, picking you up just physically picks you up and drags you to bed anyways. Hooks his arms around your waist as the big spoon and buries his face in your hair even as you spit insults about how you hope he kills himself

Like I think I've mentioned this idea with other characters before but imagine Thragg waking up on the middle of the night IMMEDIATELY PISSED because the bed beside him is cold and he finds you on the couch, on the couch, maybe even without blankets and visibly uncomfortable, because yeah he WILL wake you up to drag you back to bed with him.

- Thragg being this warrior who literally watched people be disembowled and tortured and conquered races but suddenly you're in labor and he's in the delivery room (he refuses to wait outside) watching you literally scream in pain and he just, takes your hand and tells you to squeeze, and that it'll be alright, and he sees you so vulnerable and scared and emotional and you're looking to him for some kind of help but he can't, even with all his strengths and feats he can't help you right now, however this pregnancy goes is up to fate and the doctors and he feels like an actual visceral HUMBLING sense of helplessness that just makes him, even more obsessively protective over you

- deadass if it becomes a "he can only save one: you or the children" life-threatening pregnancy scenario, he chooses you. Says you can always try again but even if you wind up infertile and "useless" to him, he's too attached to you at this point, it doesn't matter if you "don't serve a function" or whatever bullshit Viltrumite mindset he may have had with previous mates before. You're different to him, and you're making HIM different as a person

- You're just half alive on the couch because Giving Birth is Hard and here's Thragg doing shit like personally bringing you water, feeling your forehead for any fever, monitoring your condition, aggressively interrogating your guards for extra info, sitting beside you with your babies in his arms. He lets you rest after giving birth and nearly bends over backwards

- I feel like at some point you're forced to accept a lot of real fucked up stuff and especially if you are a hybrid Vultrimite yourself and thus will be with Thragg for, basically forever, like some real "mate, do you have any cravings today. What do the children require" "ummm... at the ceremony last month, there was that... blue, little.... crab thing?" "A Florkian. They are incredibly rare" "oh... I'm sorry, I didn't know-" " -and since I observed that you were fond of the taste when you were consuming them, I went ahead and conquered their homeworld and farms have been established. I can have the slaves prepare a dish for you right away" "oh, thank you, ive been craving it ever since i ate it but i didnt want to bother by asking 🥰" "as your mate it is my duty to provide for you. Do not keep any of your desires from me"

- your children are getting trained as soldiers the second they develop powers and that's something you'll have to get used to. If your little babies get their powers at 5, they're still learning combat, getting knocked around, near beaten, "toughened up". Thragg will conceal the full extent of how they're treated from you because the way he sees it, you weren't raised on Viltrum and you're simply ignorant of their culture. He doesn't need you to accept how things are. Your kids will come home with black eyes and bruises and bloodied noses and he'll growl at you not to make them too soft as you weep over Ursaal missing a chunk of her hair because an opponent grabbed her by it and she had to break away and some was ripped out at her scalp, like. The psychological damage of asking your small child how their day with their father went, "it was excellent mother, I made my first kill!!" And then gleefully describing to you in detail how while their father was fighting an enemy soldier, the soldiers child attacked yours, and, your baby killed another kid. Like. That's the sort of thing you have to be raised with to block out of your heart. Going to hug your child who may not even be 10 years old and they have literal blood on their hands

-personal headcanon but also semi canon but I imagine Ursaal is the most competent of your twins and is Thragg's favorite. She just has a better tactical mind on her shoulders and isn't, uh. As horribly sadistically violent as Onaan. Like say your kids become platonic yandere or whatever, or, you have your own kids with thragg and the twins are separate but still attached to you. Onaan is the kid you find killing cats because he's jealous they get more attention than him while Ursaal is like, giving her father incredibly detailed reports and her own insight into what you've been up to, how you're feelings, things you say and do when Thragg isn't around

-so I know y'all see that image I posted with Thragg and his twins. I tried to censor, The Cape last time but I realized like, even with censoring the head it's still super obvious who that is, there's only one white furred creature in this entire show. I imagine after Thragg gets his Beast Drip that, once Throkk's daughter comes for revenge, she is also slaughtered, and her pelt becomes YOUR cape. Or maybe Thragg offhandedly mentions to you that BB Jr has vowed vengeance and you're casually flipping through a book, "is she as strong as her father, like if you had to rate it 1 to 10 with her father being 10 and 1 being a human. If the daughter is at about a 7 or below, Ursaal should be able to handle her, get herself a nice coat to match her father" and Thragg feels this warmth in his chest to hear you're actually observant of his/your children and their prowess, especially to hear you praise Ursaal in such a uh violent context, just casually suggesting his daughter could turn another sentient humanoid creature into a pelt to wear. This is another example of "living the viltrum life will eventually dehumanize you and rob you of certain empathies"

- I don't think you would actually have a title but could you imagine if Thragg decides you're like, officially his true mate, like the mate above all others, like you're the Empress in his little harem of concubines and ladies in waiting. I hc that your official title is something like Grand Duchess or perhaps if this is the twin/triplet scenario something more vaguely historical sounding like The High Mother or Regent Mother or, you get the point

-I still think "Reader turns out to be an incredibly late blooming hybrid" is a neat concept but I also don't know how they would miss that since during your pregnancy and all you're receiving medical care out the ass but like. Thragg personally training both you and the children as a family. Would be kind of humiliating honestly because it's kind of vaguely implied you should learn things before the kids do and if you struggle, here's Thragg, telling his kids in private they have to protect you and keep an eye on you and report any problems back to him

- thragg would definitely be training you in hand to hand but suddenly finds he can't bear hitting you in the face or hitting you at a certain strength. Like. Absolutely 100% you're gonna have a lot of scenarios where you're brawling or wrestling and he pins you and it swiftly transitions to you getting rawdogged from your high on adrenaline husband. Tbh that sex would probably be his favorite, where he has to defeat you in combat and then rewards himself. Can probably border from hatesex to consensual to noncon, not that he has a problem doing THAT to you either

- probably has portraits done of you and him. Idk do you think Viltrum has like enough art culture for portraits to be a thing? Most fascist tyrants have portraits. He would have several done: you and him, just you, you while pregnant, him and you while pregnant, you holding your babies, you and him holding your babies, and family shots as they grow up. Say you conquer a planet together as a family and one day you're revisiting and there's some sort of museum set up amd you find like a wall length portrait of, you and your children soaked in blood tearing carnage through the fire and flames and Thragg is beside you just nodding in approval, "they captured your image rather well"

- goooooddddd imagine you're just a normal human and you progressively start showing signs of aging. You start getting more wrinkles. Your body starts working in different ways, popping, cracking, aching. Onaan, Ursaal, and Thragg all notice and they're like FREAKING OUT HONESTLY. The children don't want to accept that their mother is actually going to be a speck on the timeline of their entire lifespans. Thragg doesn't want to accept that he has to let you go and you're never coming back. They all become obsessed with finding ways to keep you young, keep you alive, fuck it they'll clone you and transfer your consciousness into a new body if they have to! This is comic book world and these are obsessed aliens and they have OPTIONS

- something something "what if Reader isn't a viltrumite hybrid but is still like super-powered or a mutant or whatever and this isn't revealed until you like are fatally injured or even DIE die and suddenly you, pop back up". Cause I feel like this "close call" would drive any yandere literally insane because, what if there's no second chance, what just happened, can you still die, they can never never never never never allow you to get hurt ever ever ever again

Thragg just walks into the kitchen and you have the stove top red hot and you've just got your palm resting on it and you look to him kind of just shocked, all, "look... nothing happens... I just feel some of the warmth" and Thragg just puts his fist through your oven anyways, "you could've gotten hurt" and immediately picking you up and carrying you to some sort of perceived "safer place"

- this is like a specific scenario but like, can you imagine as a mom you like to brush and comb Ursaal's hair and you idly suggest she could always grow it out more and you could help braid it and things, but once it starts getting longer Thragg objects and says it could get grabbed during a fight and orders her to cut it but you step in and say she shouldnt have to, it's HER hair, and you two get into it, and one day Ursaal is brought home by her father and he's all but shaved her head after she had actually grown it out to a decent length. You and Thragg are at odds over how to treat rhe children and Ursaal begins to realize that many of the restrictions her father instills on her are because of a way of life she may not fully agree with, a life filled with violence and bloodshed with no room for love or kindness or creativity. She probably helps you from going over the edge too, honestly. If anything else through this life with Thragg, in your darkest places you may still find yourself thinking you have to keep going to try and help your children

- with others, Thragg is the kind of yandere where he's standing in the same room as you and you're both doing completely different things and he suddenly says, "so I noticed during the meeting that your eyes kept lingering on my mate" and without further warning he's beating up someone on the accusation they were lusting for his wife, no discussion, just fists , and he'll do shit like this a lot to the point people don't feel comfortable being around you and you're just further socially isolated

- I feel like Thragg would have some weird like fondness slash fetish for watching you breastfeed. Like, awww here's his cute little wife with his chubby little babies and you're giving them their nice milk, what a good mom, providing for the babies he put in your belly ❤️ part of me is convinced if you're a viltrumite or hybrid or whatever that you uh. Eventually wind up with a lot of babies. A LOT of babies. Do you think he would want a specific amount or its just vibes. Like you're over 300 years old and you've already got 50 kids with him but he sees you teaching one of your youngest sons how to throw a punch and suddenly he wants another

- all I'm saying is if he ever catches you self harming or attempting to hurt yourself he's gonna have a real extreme reaction. Like he finds you cutting yourself with a broken glass and you're immediately restrained and taken to a hospital, completely stripped, inspected for other wounds, and if there are any and especially a lengthy history of them, you're in such trouble. But I also think it would be extremely difficult to hide this from him since as time goes on you two are constantly having sex or he's inviting himself into your shower to bathe with you. You accidentally bang your arm on a counter or something and get a tiny bruise, this man will know about it and wants a detailed report on where it came from

- even when you guys aren't super familiar with each other and you've "just met" he's already protective and all that. Like you've just been brought into his home and you barely even know him still and he may even act mean and angry to you and then one day he sees you have a large bruise on your arm, "what is this?" ".... it's nothing, Grand Regent" "I asked you a question and you'll answer me: where did this come from" "... I spoke out of turn with one of your advisors and turned to leave without permission, Grand Regent" "And so they grabbed you?" "Yes Grand Regent" "who" "it was my fault, I-" "WHO" and the second you give a name or description he's wordlessly leaving the room and shows up again HOURS later with visible blood on him, "it has been handled. You are not to be harmed or punished without my permission or instruction"

- in some scenario where you leave the kids behind and try to run away, like... he isn't just gonna throw up his hands, "well I already got children out of her, she has served her purpose" and leave you the fuck alone. If anything this man would track you down just to tell you off for having the fucking nerve to disobey and defy him! I can picture an actively captured wife where you are constantly kept on some kind of restraint or have a bracelet or collar or even a LEAD THAT HE HOLDS and you're IMPRISONED rather than "I'm being monitored but otherwise I have my own agency". Thragg will make himself a throne that you can be chained to if he has to. He'll have restraints made that are decorative and complimentary of your features. Imagine he's making some sort of public appearance and while he's speaking he's got an arm around your waist and you're pulled up against him and meanwhile you've got. A bar gag and cannot speak

- really, truly, in a way, you become a symbol, but one of all different kinds. There are Viltrumites who see how their mighty Grand Regent treats his mate and they are viscerally disgusted (Kregg and Lucan comes to mind), like people who really start to question the society they are living in, questioning if it really must be so selfish and devoid of empathy, questioning if they really want to keep living this way and for their children and their children's children to live like this. Then there are others who see the way the Grand Regent controls his mate and see its as a sign of strength and permission to treat their own mates the same.

Mostly, though... the only thing that will take you away from Thragg is death. Until the day one of you dies, you're stuck with him, and there's basically no one around who's stronger than he is, period. You might as well cozy up and get friendly with your new husband, since you're going to be together for a long time and spend lots, and lots, and LOTS of time together ❤️

[hiveworks]

Interview with Mad Rupert, author of Sakana

September 2023

Sakana, the story of life and love in a fish market, is coming back from its hiatus soon! The strip comic style webcomic began in 2010 and follows Jiro, Taisei, Yuudai, and Chie as they navigate their relationships and learn to face their feelings. We asked creator Mad Rupert, author of Robber Robert and artist of Bunt!, for an interview to celebrate the series return.

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Sakana has been your baby for 13 years. What has the webcomic journey been like for you over the past decade?

It really has been over a decade, hasn’t it! There have certainly been ups and downs, periods where I was updating as much as I could, and also long hiatuses. I feel like webcomics have always been an amazing space to practice my craft and stretch my writing and drawing skills alike. You can kind of do anything you like with webcomics, and oftentimes people come up with wackier, and imho more interesting concepts than if they were beholden to a large publisher. Not that I haven’t made my fair share of traditionally-published comics and graphic novels… but there’s just something so gratifying about coming up with your own wild story and working towards its end on your own time. Webcomics are incredibly tough and time consuming, but also the ultimate form of self expression. 

What is the origin of Sakana? What made you want to tell this story?

Sakana actually started as a class project when I was a junior at the Savannah College of Art and Design. I had been accepted into the Sequential Art department’s yearly Japan trip to study comics and cartooning in Tokyo for a few weeks, and our final project was to create 11 comic strips based off of something that made a strong impact on us during the trip. We had visited the old inner market (now demolished) of the Tsukiji Fish Market at 4am one morning, and it was the most incredible place I’d ever been, so I decided to craft a short story that took place in the market. Beyond the first 11 strips, I decided to continue the story for as long as I could as a way to practice the comic techniques I was learning in class. That was over a decade and 600 strips ago! It really has become the most ambitious project I’ve ever undertaken.

Do you have the ending already written? Do you see a conclusion in sight?

Yes! I’ve always had something at least resembling an end in mind throughout most of the comic’s lifespan. For a long-format comic like SAKANA, I think it’s very important to have a rough ending planned out as early as possible, otherwise it becomes difficult to keep the narrative moving in a satisfying direction, drop little tidbits of plot that will pay off later, or even maintain your enthusiasm for the project. To be clear, the details of Sakana's “end” have changed many times, which is only natural with a very long project like this. But I’ve always kept crucial details the same: basically certain characters in a certain place at a certain time doing certain things (to keep from getting too spoilery haha.) HOW they get there, WHY they’re there, and WHAT exactly they’re doing will ebb and flow as the years go by and I myself get older and older. But having a general sense of the end in mind has kept things moving all this time. The story’s got one more volume to go, and then I’ll be done!

Your hiatus is a result of working on a traditionally published graphic novel, coming in 2024. Is there anything you can tell us about your book?

My new graphic novel is called Bunt! and it’s a collaborative effort between myself and my dear pal, Ngozi Ukazu (author of popular webcomic Check, Please!) Ngozi wrote the book and I drew it, and we’re both really proud of what we’ve made! It’s already available for preorder all over the place and it will officially be out in stores in February 2024. We’re really looking forward to getting out there this fall and winter and spreading the word about it!

You recently successfully completed a Kickstarter for an 18+ comic, Robber Robert, as well. What is it like balancing these different narratives, genres, and mediums of publishing comics?

It’s definitely been a struggle at times to balance everything, and I definitely don’t recommend working on 3 giant projects at the same time! I finally had to admit that I couldn’t do it all at once, which led to me putting Sakana and RR on hiatus to finish Bunt!, and then keeping Sakana on hiatus while I finished up RR. I really burned myself out on comics for a while, and it’s been a huge struggle to get myself back to a good place with my work. Finishing Bunt! and RR Chapter 1 has really helped reenergize me, but I can always feel myself trying to overload my work schedule again and again. It’s my greatest weakness as a professional artist.

What keeps you inspired?

Making something for myself, practicing my craft, and putting my own stories out there are all huge driving forces in my life. Learning to stop overwhelming myself with work has also helped a lot. Looking back on all the art I’ve made and all the different things I’ve tried makes me feel like I can do anything I put my mind to, so long as I give myself the time and space to enjoy the process.

Do you have any webcomic or graphic novel recommendations?

I’m a big fan of anything fantasy or sci-fi, especially if the narrative approaches the fantastical elements in a weird, unique, and kind of gay way haha. My favorite manga is currently Delicious in Dungeon, but I’m also a fan of historical series like Golden Kamuy and Bride’s Story. For webcomics, I love anything by Evan Dahm, like his long-format series Rice Boy and Vattu. As for Hiveworks comics, there’s too many to list individually but my current favorites are Fairmeadow by KP, and Tiger, Tiger by Petra Nordlund. 

Any advice for new readers of Sakana?

I would say…despite its high page count, it’s not that long of a read! The strip format keeps it moving at a pretty quick clip when read all at once (but it certainly didn’t feel like that over the last 13 years updating one page at a time!) I know that the format and the black and white rendering might feel a little dated in the current era of Webtoons and full-color stories, but I’m too stubborn to change now, and I really appreciate anybody giving it a shot! Also, no matter who you are, or how much you dislike him in the beginning, Yuudai will probably be your favorite character.

You can read Sakana for free at sakana-comic.com and print books are available at hivemill.com

[kbspangler]

This is the public statement from @alepresser and myself which went up at Webtoons tonight.

Now for some ranting. Just from me, not from Ale—she's innocent of the art crimes I've committed in the past, and boy howdy have I committed art crimes.

This is the first page of my first webcomic, A Girl and Her Fed. I started this thing back in 2006. (I don't actually need a head count of those reading this who weren't yet born in 2006. I'm sure you're delightful and I wish you well in college.)

And this is the last page I drew in early 2020 before I turned art duties over to Dr. Beer. It's better, right?

Well, these days, A Girl and Her Fed has pages like this:

I drew this comic for fourteen fucking years because it's a story I wanted to tell, and I thought webcomics were the perfect format for it. I didn't know how to draw. I got better through sheer obstinate perseverance and sticking to deadlines as best I could for, again, fourteen fucking years. I sought out a replacement artist when I ran into time constraints and couldn't do art plus writing anymore; I'm a much better writer than an artist, so I had no problems whatsoever kicking art to the curb.

The first time Ale sent me art that would go up on the website—art I hadn't needed to draw myself—I literally cried in relief because I had been grinding myself down for, yet again, fourteen fucking years.

So when I read comments from people who say they want to make a webcomic but can't draw themselves and therefore need to resort to AI, that little line between my eyes gets dangerously deep.

This isn't like I'm some old dude who's bitching over student loans getting cancelled after making regular payments. This is me, someone who threw raw art onto the internet like a monkey hurling fresh poo, because I wanted to make a webcomic and the art is part of the process of storytelling via webcomics! I could've (arguably should've) hired an artist right out of the gate, and that would've been part of the process of making comics, too: a partnership between an artist and a writer is also something which grows and develops over time.

For example, after Dr. Beer and I spent two years working on AGAHF, we decided we enjoyed our partnership so much that we set out to make another webcomic! It's great! It's got wonderful art and consistent storytelling! You should read it!

But turning art duties over to unaltered images generated by AI because you want to make a webcomic but "just can't draw" is, frankly, a bullshit excuse. I'm not talking about persons who are physically unable to draw due to disability—I'm talking about people who say they want to make webcomics but simply don't wanna do the art part.

Friends, if you don't want to show your entire ass in front of God and country, you don't actually want to make a webcomic.

Do the thing yourself.

If you're scared, don't be. Take the plunge. Set a goal of twenty strips and do the thing yourself. If you can already draw but can't write? Great! Write twenty strips, write forty panels, etc. You might surprise yourself. If you can write but can't draw? Great! Draw twenty panels and see what happens.

Whatever comes out of it, it's a thing you've done yourself. It's something new you've given to the world, no matter how big or small. Be proud of that. And if you need to partner with someone else to make your comic dreams work? You can do that, too! It's still a thing you've done yourself, and many projects are stronger when done together.

...but maaaaaaaaaybe hire that partner before you've busted your own ass for fourteen fucking years. That one's on me.

[flipppyflopp]

“You’ve got this….you can change…you can be someone she’s proud of.” ♠️

Because of all the White Rabbit Fest art I’ve been seeing Deuce everywhere, so I decided to revisit him and drew this piece looking back on his delinquent phase! I wanted to draw that moment he decided to change his ways to better himself for his mother, so I drew him looking in the mirror getting ready to dye his hair. I always enjoy seeing Deuce in the game trying his best and I love seeing him celebrate his little victories along the way in the game, like with Wish Upon a Star and his ceremonial robes vignettes. Can’t wait till we get the White Rabbit Fest on the English version so we get more Deuce backstory 🤧

I could ramble about Deuce and his growth for ages, but I’ll end it with I’m just so proud of him 😭 I’m going to try and focus on the Sebcroc comic to get it done before the end of the week. Hopefully I’ll have time to do some simplistic doodles along the way, but we shall see.

[circuscountdowns]

Crude Timeline/Breakdown of my goofy Cult of the Lamb drawings if you’re interested:

The whole premise for this i guess au? Started during my first run, I already knew the game was about kill god become god, but Did Not know you could Marry the god youd betray??? Or indoctrinate him???. Like I didn't even choose the Marriage Doctrine cuz I'm like boo r u kidding me I'm choosing violent Battle Pit always. Which Lambert wouldn't know any of this in the beginning either but the big deciding factor is: 

Lamb is going into it with the mindset of Kill All Gods for what they've done to the sheep (sorry my benefactor, ur included <3) Kratos style lets go, none spared.

That being said, they have a lot of devotion towards Death, I like to think the Sheep folk prayed to The One Below for quick passings knowing they're a huge sacrificial species, and because sheep with their huge herd mentality, the worship flowed heavily which is a threat therefore that plus prophecy equals Slaughter. 

So with TOWW, they play along and genuinely mean they're serving death because they worshiped Death as a concept, a divine entity. They believe when they “kill” TOWW they'll still be “together” because Death is unkillable right (and the lamb would never have to be alone again right). Something new will be written thats the both of us as one.

So in between crusading Lamb and TOWW get closer (i am going to take your throne but that doesn't mean we can't have fun banter or that i don't really really enjoy ur compliments and attention ((because I love kittys…))) and that's when the comic about tanking happens. 

But oh no! Through their journey Lamb discovers that TOWW is actually a Bishop, chained for a petty family squabble??? Has a name and it’s Narinder???? 

The revelation kinda breaks something in their head. it upsettingly humanizes the Bishops, trivializes the death of their people, and takes TOWW off the pedestal they'd placed him on. Uh ohhhh how does this change things i mean I'm still gonna kill all the gods but what does it mean to be a god is it just a crown whats going to happen to Narinder is it actually Narinder I like ?? (And i had a comic for this time planned but idk if ill get to it)

Meanwhile Narinders opinion on the Lamb has so far just been Wow im so proud, I chose good yay I'm gonna be free (why do I feel like I could be free from their devotion alone?) (why are they just like me fr?) 

When Narinder is defeated and they have the choice, the lamb feels they betray both their people for not keeping their promise to kill all gods, but also their Faith and Narinder, v conflicting. 

After indoctrination, Narinder does his typical Isolation, depression, and Lamb mourns what they'd had. In their loneliness, they stop allowing their cultists to die for long. They do all Narinders quests, and when it comes to the resurrection he's like Haha I remember why I liked you. But also he can exploit this. That's the time of the Resurrection comic.

He tries to micromanage from there, if he can't be the god being worshiped rn he's going to control the god. Starts off with whispering insecurities of Your cultists will find a way to leave you, be firmer. Gods should do this, have this, they'll leave if you don't. Lamb knows what he's doing and mostly humors him to keep him around but over time they've just both started to build a proper relationship again. He successfully ironically becomes their right hand.

This goes on for a sec before Mystic Seller knocks on da door like Hello do your joobbbb. And thats a kick enough to get Lamb out of their misery shit to really consider their original plan of killing gods and what exactly they want Death to Mean. (Comes to a conclusion that death is a peace that has to be earned. Through living.)

Bringing Leshy back brings a rift and arguments between Narinder and Lamb. That's when the Narinder Confessional comic happens and he lets out just how hurt he was by Lambs betrayal (cuz that seems to be all anyone ever does to him lol except for his sons)

So as a sort of reconciliation! Lamb brings back Aym and Baal. Yay! That's that comic, where Narinder tries to say it doesn't affect him so Lamb forces them to be together. Aym and Ball stay in the cult for a good while as Lamb works to free Heket, but Narinder is still super giving Lamb the cold shoulder. When Heket is indoctrinated Narinder gets angry again that he has no say on the matter. 

Lamb starts sneaking off to sit in the confessional booth at night and it gets Narinders attention. He follows them in and hears them speak about essentially their motivations and beliefs described earlier. I have a half finished comic of this to partner with Narinder’s confessional, with Lamb’s being more down to earth and kinda just explanatory of the whole timeline but who knows if ill finish it tbh

Narinder reassesses his feelings for Lamb after that.

Right after Lamb's confessional would be when the Baal and AYm comic happens, and Narinder asks for his last request of going on a mission, fully committing to living a life.

Cue big ambiguous gap of time where Lamb gets the other siblings, yada yada healing and dealing. Shamura in the pillory comic happens, the bishops are Not happy about it, but Shamura's only locked up for a night.

Probably takes a hundred or two years for the siblings being comfortable enough around each other and theres a lot less venom being spat out. Idk gods grudges be lasting forever sometimes. Eventually They can start having family game nights, cue that comic. Everyones tired of the shit Lamb and Narinders got going on. 

Lamb still thinks Narinder doesnt have romantic feelings for them. Best friends til the end me and my god, never mind the tense flirting. Lamb does that with everyone. (cursed with flirty asexual disease) For Narinder its that he shouldnt have to say anything everyone should just know that the Lamb is his. Straight up if Lamb asked him, do you love me hed say yes in every sense, but though he is aware of how he feels and would be honest on approach, an immortal relationship/marriage?? It is a lot to ask of the lamb, that has to be a decision they make. Hes content as is.

but No Way could Lamb ask that without a safety net.  So when Lamb realizes Oh its like. romantic jealousy? Interesting lets see how far i can push it, announces they will be choosing a spouse (due to a wager lost they reason, depending on who asks) (the siblings who know of Shamura’s deal, watch in mild amusement at how absolutely wired this gets their brother. No one helps him.) fine for narinder If they get married thats up to them but hes gonna make sure theyre worthy of his vessel first. Marriage is just a title compared to what he and the Lamb have. 

Cue comic i have planned that is Such a funny idea to me but im not liking how its turning out so who knows. But they get married yay! 

Some years later kudaai has offered to make the lamb their own weapon. They go on a little trip to the spot they were sacrificed, now very overgrown and forgotten, and find their chains to make their weapons. 

far future comic

many many many years later Lamb death comic.

that’s it for now. I’ll add more if ideas come but this is context if you’d like. Feel free to ask questions, I’m rotating these fellas in my head