#beware that prince though

[loveyouhomex]

MOODS

Bea had told him before that Henry sometimes gets into these moods, where he vanishes into his mind for hours or days, not talking, barely eating, hardly existing. She’s asked him, way before the whole shitshow with the leak of the e-mails happened, whether he would stay with her brother during those times, too, whether he would love those moods exactly like he loves the other parts of Henry. It was a no-brainer.

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[insufferablelust]

The Prince Regent (Aemond Targaryen x F!Sister!Reader)

{Can be read as the sequel of Gevī}

There are rumors floating around after the march of the greens in Rook’s rest, you were shocked when you learned of what has happened, rushed to confront your brother— you were made to once again quell the madness within with rekindling the fire with him.

This work contains mature acts, Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

Words counted: 10.4k+

Content include: 18+ MDNI! Targcest (canon incest practice of the Targaryen house), Smut, Sex, Oral sex (F receiving), Heavy breeding kink, Slight exhibitionism (Sex at the council chamber), Choking, Rough sex, Dumbification, Manhandling, Slight degradation, Reader has the attributes of the Targaryens (silver hair, purple eyes etc), Mention of violence, Canon injuries and death, Mention of usurping the throne (half-canon), LOTS of pet names, Slightly Dark!Aemond (He is so obsessive and possessive and feral of you.)

Note: Hello! I am back with new fic yay! this is another Aemond fic, which can be read as the follow up of my last fic, Gevī which can be found here, or you can also read it as a standalone, up to you! This work is NOT beta’d (there will be revision) since once more I am still slammed with work so I have yet the time to refer to my beta reader, but hopefully there is nothing much amiss, if there is, I apologize and I hope it will not disturb your reading experience. ALSO AEMOND IS UNHINGED IN THIS ONE YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Remember that english is not my native language so bear with me. My request is always open for HOTD characters. Enjoy and let me know what you think! thank you my loves.

Masterlist

The day has been moving rather slowly today, you mused, the sun looks as though it is shining but overshadowed by gloomy clouds at the same time— horizon darkens as the end of the day is fast approaching. It has been a strange day, oddly quiet even in the hustle and bustle of a dreaded war-coming, you had heard of your brothers whereabouts, both the King and the Prince as your mother was panicking earlier when they both were absent from the small council meeting.

You ignored the ever so loud chattering of the lords and ladies around the hall, as you sat below the Weirwood tree to read your book, the only place where you ought to sought comfort and refuge from the looming darkness that follows ahead, you had always been more receptive— taking in your surroundings and only use your sharp wit when necessary, you are like your brother, Aemond, in that sense, where you do not find pleasure in talking much if it does not have any meaning to it.

Though, you had not been silent since the days following Aegon’s crowning, your expertise in knowing Westerosi territories and politics are often seen be used by the small council as Aemond would come to you in any instance he needed help. You also always tried to interpret Helaena’s cryptic messages— having realized of your older sister’s ancient-like gift since you were little, it was you that had warned them to move the crowning ceremony anywhere but the Dragonpit when she had said “Beware of the beast beneath the boards.” Yet when they do not paid attention to you nor your sister, tis’ true that your family was one second away from being engulfed in Meleys’s fire if not for the Princess Rhaenys’s last minute compassion.

But alas, you had not been of useful as of late, ever since the passing of your nephew, Jaehaerys, you scolded yourself often on why you were not with Helaena that night, or why you did not have the time to interpret what she had said about the rats, though, Aemond had repeatedly assured you that there was no way that one can know such cruel thing would happen, and that there was nothing you could have done— moreover if you had stayed with Helaena that night, all your lives might be even more in danger due to the fact that you’re a young maiden.

You still feel guilty though, for you had been spending your night in the arms of your husband that night— comforting each other in warm embraces inside your chambers.

You and Aemond had always been inseparable since the day you were born, his little sister— someone he had always come to whenever he was faced with a hard time finding solace due to the constant torment and taunts your eldest brother and nephews has caused upon him. You can scarcely remember the times where Aemond is happy in his childhood, but the memories that stood the tallest in your memory are ones akin to when he would read to you about the Aegon’s conquest or Rhaenys’s journey to Sunspear, or Visenya’s tales with Vhagar.

Another one is when he had ventured through Maegor tunnels to get to your room and would ask timidly to sleep in your room because he was plagued by nightmares, or that time when he had come to your defense as Aegon broke one of your crystal jar, one that housed the famed rose from the North, or that time after he claimed Vhagar, eye sewn shut in Driftmark, you had visited him in his chambers despite your mother’s warning to let him rest when you know better that he would feel better accompanied by you. Tis’ unbreakable this bond of yours, strongly linked, and undoubtedly passionate.

Aemond finds all the thing he is not, in you, you are gentle, soft spoken, soothing in nature— even as your hair is as silver pale as he, your jaws are as sharp he, your wit are as bright as he— Aemond adored the part that truly empowers you, your compassionate self, your jaw-dropping smile, your unmasked confidence, your unapologetic self is what makes him honored to have you by his side.

Your presence calms his raging stormy minds and hot tempered self, your sweet saccharine voice, your angel like touches, your supple smooth skin— always seems to be flustered in heat when near him, your soft lilac eyes that gives him assurances, your slightly curlier locks— something you get from your mother, always half braided with half fanned to your side— the necklace you wore, given by him, a Valyrian ruby that always adorned your enthralling being, you are the epitome of a Valyrian goddess, graced with the beauty that people would go to war for, solicited by your intelligence that makes you powerful altogether. The word ‘infatuated’ does not even cover his love for you.

Speaking of your brother, the days following his return from Storms end had caused many distraught upon learning of what befell your nephew, in the flurry of it all, Aemond had taken your maidenhead, which he swore to wed you then— and that he did, asked his mother to betroth him to you once and for all as you had always meant to be— insisting after the death of Jaehaerys that it is crucial to have more heirs so that if the time comes, your bloodline will not perish so easily— Alicent, of course, had been furious at his son for, “How dare you corrupt your little sister!” but when you came to Aemond’s defense, she let her guard down and at last grant you both what you wished.

The deal with the Baratheons has been annulled… for now.

You both were wed in the sept just a few days after the tragedy, and were happily consummating your marriage if not for the news of Ser Cole and Gwayne Hightower’s success of house Darklyn in Duskendale, and is set to march to Rook’s rest once more, where Aemond is to to join him, he had told you once after an intense rounds of fucking.

You were finally pulled out of your reverie when the chatter around you gets louder, feeling irked by it you look up from you book only to have your frown wiped out by the sight in front of you. You saw few of Aegon’s knighted guards bringing a huge wooden box covered with your house’s sigil— Gods be good. You have thought of the worst then, what if it is Aemond? what if they are carrying his de—

“Princess, Her Grace the Queen Dowager has requested your presence in King Aegon’s chamber.”

Aegon?

“Thank you, Ser Harrold.” You replied, clutching the book tightly as you stand up, and walk towards where the other knights and seemingly hurdles of Maesters rushing to, your throat dried at the possibilities of what might await you once you reach Aegon’s chamber.

Is he alright?

Is Aemond alright?

Did they defeat the Blacks? What happened in Rook’s rest?

“Mother.” You muttered as you halt your steps upon reaching the now packed room, your eyes does not yet know where to land it’s sight on, the frantically moving figure of Maester Orwyle tending to a charred body on the bed, or the hisses that came from the servants who brought fresh linens, cloths, and water, or at your mother who stood with panic written all over her face, eyes glassy with tears.

“What has happened?” You asked, still unable to figure out exactly who is it that laid there, due to the hurdling of bodies taking pieces of armors off. The smell of burning and dragon fire is so evident, that the ladies around you scrunched their nose— you thought none of it considering you are no stranger to the smell of dragons— but what caught your line of sight next shocked and silenced you quickly.

There laid the King, your eldest brother, Aegon, with half of his face badly charred, his body littered in wounds from fire— the sight of him like that makes you choke and sob as you lean against Alicent who also watches with terrified eyes, “Is my son going to die, Maester?” Her shaky voice only enhanced the amount of tears you let out, lips trembling in confused emotions.

How did— who did— why did—

“I will do whatever I can to help him, your grace, but now I must get back because this is the most important step.” Came Orwyle’s response. You may despise Aegon for his lack of respect towards anyone— women in particular, but he is still your brother, your king.

“Why isn’t Heleana here?” You asked, turning your head to look at your mother, “and… Aemond?” came the question that have plagued your mind since you were fetched by Ser Harrold earlier in the Godswood, is he alright? did he suffer the same fate? did the blacks charred him too? I can not live without him, he— I cannot—

“Come.” Your mother beckoned you out of the chamber to sit by the bench near the Weirwood tree you sat earlier, your eyes are frantic, trying desperately to understand what is going on, what happened, and most importantly if your brother— Aemond is alright, “I can not call for Helaena… she—“ Alicent’s voice came with a choked sob, it breaks your heart seeing her like this, after seeing what befell Aegon, you understood that this is hard for her regardless the way how anyone feels about him, your brother, her son.

“I can not put more burden on your grieving sister, you must understand that only you can do this.” Her irises stabs right through yours as you ponder her words, digesting on what she could mean by ‘do this’— you understood why Helaena wasn’t called first thing to Aegon’s chamber despite her being his Queen, his wife, the reigning monarch in his absence, due to her still sullen with grief, but then it all clicks for you.

Ah.

This is about Aemond, if Helaena is your mother’s pawn to strengthen Aegon’s claim, then anything linked to you have always been, will, and must be about Aemond.

Only you,

You’re the only one that can soothe Aemond, calm him, hear him, understand him, discipline him when needed, tame him when necessary.

Only you that can release the ever glooming glorious tension that has risen and finally reached its peak between the heirs— one who was born first as a male heir, and the other one who is actually deserving of it by power and knowledge.

It’s you, his soulmate, his other half— it has only been you and everyone knows it, even your sister whom have said you are meant to fill the socket of the eye that Aemond has lost, you’re the missing piece in his tormented soul, the very needle that threads his wound, heal his anger, and cool down his temper.

But before you can open your mouth to respond, the sound of clanking armor once again reached the both of you and a voice boomed through the otherwise serene peace of the Godswood, “Pardon me, Your Grace, Your Highness, but the small council has gathered, and has asked for the presence of the Dowager Queen.” the Knight spoke, causing you to sigh and drown the words you had meant to speak of.

“Very well, I must return but please,” She looked at you feverishly, “My love, you need to talk to him, reason with him, because he will not do so with me.” Your heart once again breaks at that, yes you may have not had the fondest of love for your mother solely because she was too busy preparing Aegon, being queen in your father’s sickness, and feuding with your half-sister to care for you but alas, just like Aegon, she is of your blood, she is your mother— knowing she feels powerless to aid her own children, so much so, she asked for her youngest daughter’s help is a sorrowful thing to witness.

“I will, mother, now go.” You said, pulling your best smile to soothe her, the tresses of your silver locks blowing in the wind as she cup your face to kiss your forehead before fleeing to the small council chamber— leaving you with your thoughts once more, deserting you to quell over your confusion, with no comfort of assurance or security— you need Aemond, and he needs you, but how can you both reason with him when he is not within your reach, you just seek to know his safety and shield him, Helaena, and your niece of all this— but alas,

Did he do it?

Did he burn Aegon?

Is his desire for power so great that it quenches whatever left of affection you all had as siblings?

What will you do?

You love Aemond, you love him more than anything in the realm, your bond with him as strong as the bond you share with your dragon, Valyx, you do not and will never betray him— you had remembered his promise of making you his Queen, that the realm will bow to both of you, that his love for you is so great that it will be more than enough for him to fight and relinquish in victory— but at what cost? You had half the mind to seek Helaena, to ask for her guidance but that thought is quickly diminished by knowing the fragile state of your sister after Jaehaerys’s passing.

No, you will have to speak to Aemond, whatever result it may produce, whatever madness awaits you, whatever turn of story that may arise— you have to be ready for it, willing to face it, conquer it— for you do not wish for harm to ever come to those you love, to Helaena, your niece, your mother— and most importantly Aemond.

You just hope the Gods will grant you their blessings and forgiveness to what you will do or don’t do.

—

You had waited hours outside the small council chamber, pacing in front of the huge grant door, thinking and pondering on what you must say to Aemond, what you will do to reason with him. Your thoughts are plagued with the memories of your last encounter with Aemond, not that you can help it, it practical branded itself to you— He had always branded himself to your memory with everything he said and does.

It was the night after his small council meeting had gone awry, well according to his recollection— Aegon had once again undermined his knowledge and acted foolishly, not trusting his brother’s judgement, Aemond laid down on your lap, as you caresses his hair, his patch is off now that he is alone with you, in your chambers, with you only wearing your lilac shift and he, a tunic pants.

“Zȳhon mition yne amīvindis.” He had said that night as the flame dances through his iris and shappire— there is that unquenchable anger in him, you felt it miles away even before he laid on your bed, you knew that he was furious by the way he stormed to your room at the hour of the wolf, you had been sleeping when he entered, but quickly made way for him beside you. His stupidity infuriates me.

“Aegon?” You asked as your fingers cards through his hair in a soothing manner, you wish you can take away his pain, his worries, his fear— but Aemond is a hot tempered man, who will not be denied of his desires, who will not back down from a fight, who will never cower in silence, “Hm.” He hummed to you, “He is your king.” You humored him, passing a chuckle to the wind.

“Not for long.” Your fingers halted as he looked at you, trying to process what he just said, you knew your brother is hungry for power— for his throne, but it has always been a blur to you just how he was going to win— especially with Rhaenyra’s looming threat of war now, “Aemond…” You whispered, a distraught look is evident on your face, your rosy lips pout like it is begging for him to kiss you feverishly— to claim you once again.

“Do nor fret, sister,” He said, eyes sharp through yours while he bring his thumb up to your lip to press down on your ever so cute and tempting pout, what a tempting little tart, he thinks, “I do not wish to bring upon the ruin of the realm,” He pushes his thumb slightly in, you gladly open your lips to take the tip of his thumb inside and suckle on it as it is your lifeline. Your eyes closed for a second from a comforting gesture it brings you, he knows this calms you, content you— “Unlike Aegon.” He whispered the last part before completed parting your lips with his thumb so you can suck on it with little mewls of contentment.

He cooed at your subdued state, gods, he does not care of anything but to serve you— give you the realm as you fully deserve, his queen. Beautiful, untainted, pure, and the very image of both the Mother and Maiden bestowed upon a figure— you, you and your flustered self, you and your cherry lips, fluttering eyes, smooth silver locks, body of a goddess, a personality of Eve, charm of Rhaenys, dream of Daenys, fierce of Visenya, and soul that is unique to just you. He worships you more than you know, but he will show you— he will always show you.

“There you go, sweet girl.” His voice both soothe and heat up your core, and it catches you by no surprise when the night ended with you both tangling atop of the bed, with you on your hands and knees, his hand against the back of your neck— as he fucked your cunt with a varying pace of both a feral madman, and a devout husband— yours. You had been naught but a whimpering mess, a shaky shivering little girl overwhelmed with pleasure.

He had worshipped you then, kisses you softly on your skin as he brings you to your peak over and over and over again with his fingers, mouth, cock— every inch of him is solely to make you feel heavenly, so much so, that you are sure that your vision had gone blurry and you slumped onto the bed as he took care of you.

Your mind was quickly pulled once more from your thoughts when you heard the door of the small council chamber had finally been opened, you stood diligently to the side, waiting for your husband so that you may speak to him. You watched the lords move outside one by one, bowing to you when they catch you, which you had curtly but politely nod, until Lord Larys Strong came to your line of sight.

“Princess, how nice it is to see you.” Now you have never hold much disdain towards those who does not deserve it, and though Larys had never done anything to you personally, you are but know how much a rat he truly is. Indeed, he is an intelligent cunning man, known for his whisperings and cruel deeds that, even you, do not wish to know—but for the sake of the crown, you begrudgingly smiled, “Likewise, Lord Larys.” The fingers behind your back is picking at your cuticle in stress, Gods where is Aemond.

“The Prince Regent will certainly be delighted with your presence, regency is not an ea—“

“Regent?” Your brow furrowed at the mention, head spinning and running by a thousand miles— “Aemond… regency?” You asked, desperately trying to figure out what in the Seven hells happened and what has been done by it, “Yes, your highness, he—“

“Larys, may I speak with my wife in private now?” His voice came from inside the room, and you can scarcely see his figure emerging from inside, he is wearing his usual black attire, adorned with a green coat as a sign that he had been riding Vhagar prior, your eyes slipped to see the now two dagger on his side, one each, and your lips twitch with shock as you spot Blackfyre on the scabbard, you can not mistaken it, for it is one of the only two mighty Valyrian sword left that belongs to your family. Aemond had watched you gawking at him with an aura of eerie calmness to him, the sight making your spine curled and skin shivering.

This is all for you, sister, all I do is for you, he wants to say.

Your stare fled from his dagger up to his calm form, the way he holds so much power even when he is just standing there, with his arms behind his back, legs parted, head tilted, and lips pressed into a thin line—your violet eyes went up up up until his own gleams into yours, heating what feels like a suffocating heat around you. You continued staring into his eyes as your heart thundered inside your chest, you do not even notice that Larys had said his farewell and had left you both alone, at the entry of the council chamber— or at least you thought you were alone, before your mother’s voice spoke from behind the door— caught your peripheral vision.

“What are you doing here so late, sweet girl? have you had supper yet?” She asked, hands coming up to cupped your cheek in her otherwise cold hand, she’d been furious, you mused, eyes fleeting to the red marks on your mother’s finger, it seems that old habits die hard, “I wish to speak to Aemond, mother.” You bit the inside of your cheek at the way you almost whimpered his name— yes you are confused and possibly angry at him right at this very moment but he is your husband, the love of your life, your other half— you are also drowned by worries and fears of his safety, especially after seeing the state Aegon is in.

“I need to know he is well.” and safe and I just want to run away with him where no one can find us, I wish this madness can stop and be in peace with him— but you do not say that, no, you just smiled softly at your mother upon hearing Aemond hummed at you intriguingly, almost like he is both amused and mocking your sense of worry.

He knows that you know he did what he did.

Good, he thinks, let you see that he would burn the realm down for you, he would sooner die than to give you any less than what his wife, his precious sweet sister deserves.

“Very well then, I shall check on how Helaena is doing.” You do not miss the way Aemond’s lips twitches at the mention of either your sister or your eldest brother, his stoic self is evermore transparent yet foggy all the same for you to read, “Tell her we send our well wishes…” It’s his turn to speak now, eyes never leaving your figure with his voice ever so so alluringly gentle, “and to Aegon’s recovery, of course.”

Your spine curled at that, the invisible hair on your skin risen at the chill and smugness of his voice— Gods, Aemond… what have you done.. that’s all you can think but moreover, what will I do with you.

Your mother left you both at that, yet you can’t find it in you to move or speak to him, the slit on your dress passes the breeze seeping through your skin, the neckline that came above your breasts seems so tight now as you take desperate breaths to calm yourself down— you both just stared at each other, his, with longing, love, affection, you you you.

Yours are filled with the same longing, same love, same subject of desire yet there is a glint of confusion, uncertainty, and doubt swimming in your eyes— not to spite him or put distrust in him, he knows that, he knows you best— He knows you are just confused, a darling little pet you are, even when thrusted with so many responsibilities at the time of war, you still have that innocent childlike self in you that cowers in his gaze, that is desperate to seek good in the midst of destruction, that is curious, always seeking his approval, his assurances. It warmed him, for he knows that, only he, can assuage that building turmoil inside of you, only he can ease your pain, assure your worry.

“Come.” He said, Aemond beckoned you inside the council chamber with two flicks of his fingers, you followed suit, hands cold in front of you— blood of the dragon yet cold hands, he always muses to you often time he warmed you up, ah you do always love his warmth, engulfing you with security and love, comforting you the only way Aemond can, you longed for that, and you know he longs for it too.

“Aemond..” Your lips trailed as the door closes behind you, there Aemond stopped in his tracks, leaning against the table with his hand perched back against it, lips turned in an amused smirk with his head tilted.

Fuck fuck fuck, you need to focus.

“Aemond…” You said once more, walking closer to him but stopping just few feet away, keeping a respectful distance— not that it mattered much, if he wanted to— and he does— he could have you so easily, manhandles you right here right now, bending you over the very table he now commands and pound you to oblivion, releasing his pent up rage and frustration in that sweet sweet cunt of yours, “Hm?” Aemond merely hummed at you even when his mind conjured up the most obscene things, he has to have you, he needs— “Speak, little one, I am listening.” He grinned with mockery, which made you huff and stomp your feet like you used to do when you were a little girl, yet he finds you so sweet as you do it, only making his heart soar with love and desire for you.

What are you doing to him, little girl?

“What has happened?” What he would do to wipe that pout from your face, why are you testing him so far today, his little nymph, “It was a successful operation at Rook’s rest.” He replied calmly, making your blood boil as you scoffed and shake your head disdainfully at his remark, “It was foolish, reckless even—“

“Did we not took out the largest looming threat?” He pressed on, edging you to be angry with him, “It was a worthy effort, a worthy price.” His eyes twinkle when he see your heating face— such an angry little dove, you are, what a temperament that has long been subdued by your years of princesses duties, causing you to retract back to a shell— though he knows better, that you and him share the blood of dragon and fire in you.

Let it burn, sweet sister, let it burn and we shall emerge from the ashes.

“A worthy effort? your king is at the teetering edge of death.” You bit your lip to suppress your anger, let it simmer but do not let it boil to overheat, “What of Helaena, Aemond? she has just lost her son, and now you’ll take away her husband too?” You tried to reason with him, eyes fleeting from his yes to his puffing red lips back to his eyes.

Focus, fuck, why can’t you focus.

“What do you take me for, sister?” His tone is accusatory, eyes sharply glared at you, if he was annoyed before, he is furious now, “You accused me of treason, is that it? deem me a kinslayer?” You tap your feet below you, a sign that you’re either nervous or irritated— maybe both at this point.

“You said it, not me, Aemond.” It was a pitiful attempt at trying to not think of him that way— even in your anger, you still want to find the good in him, but dearest sister, alas your soulmate is one paradox only you can understand, one cursed being you can love, a match to your own fixation, “Tell me you did not do it.” Your eyes held so much hope in them, pleading and begging for his assurances. He truly would do anything to destroy anyone that make you this worrisome, but if it is him, then he shall do what he always did, to declare his love for you, so immense that he can do naught, but serve the realm on a golden plateau for you.

He closes the gap between the two of you, standing tall over you, leaning his head forward to press his forehead against yours— breathing with rage with his warm palm coming up to cup your jaw, a possessive gesture, served only for you, there is so much passion between the two of you that your mind gets hazy and fuzzy with it, “Sweetling,” He breathes, once, twice, three times, “What have I told you over and over, hm? what did I promise to you?” His words thrum against your skin, with your bones stilling itself in the desire to melt into him— become one with him.

I will never leave you, dōnus ñuhys, you are destined to be my queen, for all the Seven, nor the Old Gods can never deny us.

“There will be nothing left for us if this madness do not cease, Aemond…” You whispered his name, eyes prickling with sharp heat beneath your eyelids— forcing you to close them shut even when you do not want to, “I am terrified.” You muttered it out of desperation and pure fear and that troubles Aemond, oh no no, his little girl, how has he been so blind to your cries.

He can feel his heart tugs with pain, his stubborn self is telling him to soothe you, calm you down, relieve you of your misery that is looming fear, oh little dragon— he hadn’t mean to scare you, only to show you his dedication, for who will he show it else to if not for the most important person of his life? he would not have find it in him to even claimed Vhagar, if it were not for you, you’re his source of life.

“Look at me.” That was not a request from him, but a demand, one you so eagerly followed, “You have me, what are you so terrified of when you have me?” He punctuates each of his words with pressing against you harder, your body jolted lightly as your rear hit the edge of the table after being spun by him.

“The war—“

“If we march together, our power will not easily be subdued— tis’ what needs to be done, and I will be ready to do it, risk my life so we will prevail. Would you not have done the same?”

“I would, you know I would.” Your eyes remained close throughout his declaration, eyes trying to frantically stop your tears but alas, it is a useless pursuit, tears flows down your cheeks at a faster rate than you’d like, at this Aemond cooed, wiping your tears, “You and I, we can have what is ours, sweetling, what has been ours since they took our eye.”

Our eye, he says, not mine— “You’re the missing eye that fills his socket.” Helaena once told you.

“What of Aegon?” You opened your eyes at him, holding his stare as best as you could even when he took a sharp breath and press his thumb on your pouty parted lips, “Aegon rushed to Rook’s Rest to proof his worth despite the better judgement offered by the council,” He paused, nose nudging into yours where you can feel every single allure that drips off your husband like its second skin, “He challenged Meleys, got overpowered, and I had to come in to save the armies… as I have intended to do before he so recklessly join in with Sunfyre.” His lips are touching his thumb now, the only thing shielding your petal bloomed parted lips with his.

You should be concerned by his statement, for you know Aegon would not ended the way he is now if Aemond had actually meant to ‘save him’, there is something else, you know he would not kill out of spite even with the years of insults and torments that Aegon himself, had bestowed upon your brother, he would not deliberately kill him, yet the intention to hurt is not lost on you.

Meleys is a strong dragon of your house, a battle trained one at that, but still not enough against the mighty Vhagar, that fought alongside Visenya on Dornish war and conquer it, let alone two dragons— but perhaps, you have naught but pressing longing now, your impulses seems to control you— your innate desires taking over and you can only do what your heart and body wants, never mind what your mind says, it matters not, you’re his, he’s yours.

You leaned impossibly closer to him, urging him to take away his thumb against your lips by tugging on his wrist as your glistening eyes look up at him with desperation in them, his humming is slightly cold, but you know better that its full of mirth— he is teasing you.

“I suppose now that I am in charge…” He tilted his head menacingly, pressing his lips upon the gap of your brow, hold you tight to him as he took in your rose oil scented skin, how heavenly, he thinks, “You ought to call me, your grace, isn’t that true, princess?” His thumb slipped inside your rosy lips then, the force is too heavy to bear as you sigh and suckle on the tip of his lips— eyes fluttered shut, “Uh huh.” Your lips parted from his thumb with a lewd pop!

“Your grace.”

Your eyes flit open, droopy with want, heat on the apex of your thigh is ever so persistent against the now soaked fabric of your silk smallclothes, Aemond eyes are sharp— ravenous as he stared at you, “Syz riña.” He purred. Good girl.

Having no more self control over him, Aemond use his free hand to hold the side of your neck— lightly pressing on the pulse point, enough to make your head dizzy, and presses his lips on yours with so much want, need, pressure of claim-claim-claim and mine-mine-mine.

If there is one thing about Aemond is that he’d never be denied, not when he was destined to claim the greatest dragon in the realm, not when he is supposed to sit on the Iron throne, and certainly not when he’s going to have you— no, you’re his, since you were bare as a babe, to now, his beautiful sweet girl of a wife.

Fuck, he’s achingly hard just at the feeling of your lips, body heat, and thought of your sweet flushed face. Gods be damned.

You gasped at the feeling of his teeth grazing your bottom lip, asking— no, demanding you to part your lips by biting at it— not too hard, yet enough to make you squirm on the ledge of the table, as your pretty pink raw lips parted in obedience, he wasted no time to push his tongue inside passionately— exploring your oh so delectable wet cavern like a madman, whilst you mewl with the lightheaded feeling of his grasp on your throat and his tongue battling, or more like conquering yours.

Your body is now dangerous low to the tabletop behind you as your nails fisting weakly at his leather tunic, a silent plea for him to give you time to breathe, its pure instinct he knows, but how can he deprive himself of you. Your melodic whines, the way your pink lips parted and indulge him so so sinfully, the way your chest heave with each gulping breath you try to take, and the way you clench your thigh, oh yes he knows all about it, little girl.

After you slap at his chest for a few times, Aemond finally relent, parting his lips from your now cherry bitten lips— you take big gulps of breath, gasping for what seems to be minutes after he released you, your head spins and you’re sure your knee would not been able to hold your figure even against the table if not for his strong grip on both your neck and waist.

“Come back to me.” He whispered, temple pressed against yours as you let out soft whimpers at the heightened pleasure of fuzziness in your head— just him him him, just Aemond Aemond Aemond, “I— please.” You can do naught but to plead with him, eyes watery as you stared at him—lips trembling, wanting to say so much more, please claim me, fuck me senseless, please make me forget that this realm exist, make me only yours, make me your queen just as you promised— but he knows, Gods he knows you, he knows what you want, he always does.

“Please what, sweetling?” But does it thrill him to no end seeing you so desperate, so needy for his touch that you’d beg and beg—Seven hells, not only is his heart thundered against his ribcage, but his cock is painfully aching at your dewey flushed face, “Use your words, zaldrītsos.” His words might be encouraging, yet his tone is anything but— its mockery, he is taunting you and it makes you drip down your legs. Little dragon.

“Touch me… please.”

You gathered all the voice you have left, even if it is just a mere whisper that sounded more like a meek mewl, “I am touching you.” He said, his fingers trails up and down the sleeve of your gown, making you shudder with want— tiny wantons of needy whines escaped you as his fingers trail upon the material of your silk covered breasts— nipples pert with peaking desires.

“Not— you know where I want your touch…” The frustration embedded within you forced this snappy remark of yours, one he clicked his tongue at, just like he always did when you were little— when you had eaten all your lemon cakes in a single sitting, when you would hide beneath the grassy slope atop of Rhaenys’s hill, when you would constantly fuss to keep his wound clean, so much so that you had stayed whenever the maester came in to change his dressings albeit the warning from your mother. It’s the click of the tongue that signifies not only to remind you of disobedience, but it holds a stronger purpose to know that he so affectionately loves and ardor whatever it is you do, even when you are being a fussy bratty little thing that you are.

“Being an impudent girl for me will not serve you well, I had thought you know this by now.” He shakes his head at you, fingers trailing backwards to slowly unlace the neat tying of your ladies’s work on the bodice of your gown— all the while brushing your half braided silver locks to the side and lean forward to nip at your neck causing you to gasp.

Oh he wishes to bend you to him, but moreover to protect you, all the same, as he did when he would wipe the lemon frosting from your lips, or give you his last candied sweets, or grip your wrist to lead you back to Maegor’s tunnels to not incurs the wrath of your mother, or clasp a hand to your lips to keep you from squeaking as to not alert Aegon of where your whereabouts— it is all meant as a testament of his often unspoken devotion to you, and you know it.

“Aemond—“ You are unable to mutter anything let alone an apology as you feel your gown slides off from your body down as it pooled on the ledge of the table— only held by how your body is pressed against the stone table, now only clad in your thin silk shift and smallclothes, you felt so exposed, your neck snapped sideways as you looked at the door behind you, it dawns in on you that you are in fact in a room where someone could just walk in, and found you both in the state of lewdness, “Aemond, not here.”

“I am the Prince regent, I shall do what I please, where I wish.” Came his reply, you can do naught but shudder at the deep rumble that is his voice, at your small gasp, Aemond continued to press soft almost gentle feather kisses on the exposed skin of your pulse point, down your jugular, to the base of your neck, behind your ear—“Ah!” You can feel him chuckling at your voiced pleasure, he knows you like the back of his hand, which spot makes you tick and jolt— you arch your back when he suck and nip at the sensitive skin, ever so reactive to his touch, you are.

You always are, little dove, like you are made to respond to him— his voice, touch, kisses, pleasure, demands— each and every single one of his decrees.

Aemond palm comes up to cusp your flowery breasts next, fondling the soft skin with your buds firmly against the calloused skin of his palm. He then rolled the blossoming darkening buds of pleasure between his index and thumb, causing you to grip onto his biceps, “Mm Seven—.” You tried your best to remain sane but alas, you never were to begin with, nothing is ever normal nor sane but you could not care less, not when it is him.

He chuckled at your oversensitivity, mouth slide down from the crook of your neck to your stern collarbone, before reaching the valley of your breasts. He looked up at you menacingly as he takes one of your pert bud into his mouth to suckle on it as you yelp— hand clutching his doublet in desperation, you are sure by now that your smallclothes is not only drenched but soaked from the way your cunt pulse with each second going by.

“Doñus riñus.” He murmured as he littered marks all over your now flushed skin, moving to the other neglected nipple, applying the same treatment of pull-tug-suckle on the poor overstimulated bundle of nerves. Sweet girl.

Aemond released your now reddened bitten tender buds with a loud pop! causing blush to once more darken on your flushed skin, he smirks up at you then,“Lay down, ābrazȳrys.” wife. He lightly push you downward against the stone table, you shuddered lightly when your heated skin met the cold surface, your eyes are glistened— wide yet droopy with needy innocence as you stared up at him, eyeing him as he removes his breeches slowly.

“Aemond…” You whined and pressed your thighs together when he keeps on teasing you by undoing his laces way too fucking slow, he knows it will drive you mad especially since your drenched tight cunt is inviting him oh so warmly— fuck, he thinks, you looked like the Maiden and Mother has painted, created the perfect goddess of the realm, silver locks wildly splayed on the table, with your braids almost undone, and your body glistened with thin layer of sweat and some of his spit, skin flushed with his markings on you, “Fucking temptress little slut.” He groaned as he stared at you panting.

Your puffy cheeks are heated with lust and neediness, your eyes stared at him like you always did when you sought comfort or wisdom from him— the same way little you had looked up at him whenever you beg for his remaining sweet treats, or when that first time in your reading chambers, oh how you had asked him so so sweetly to touch you— open and take your maidenhead like a good obedient little girl you are, how your bitten raw lips is murmuring pleads to him as if he wouldn’t give you what you want— oh his poor little darling, always wanting more more more.

Then his gaze fall down the swell of your breasts, the way it rises up and down with each breath you take, inviting him to suck and nip at the tender buds once more, and when he dropped his sight to your fluttering folds— he bit his lip, hard, for the view is both the most sinful obscene yet heavenly thing he could ever have witnessed in his lifetime, there you lay, ready for him, ripe for the taking, and the center of your pleasure is weeping for him to take care of you— to take you.

“Gevie.” He whispered as he drank his fill of you— you, the embodiment of a Princess, a Queen— all in name, nature, body, spirit, and soul, everyone should worship you, for he can swear to the Seven that you are holier than any deity common folk would pray to, you are not just the core of his being, but the essence of his vitality— his his his. Beautiful.

Aemond wastes no time to drop to fold your legs so he can enjoy his treat, he grunted before leaning down to kiss the inside of your mound— hand holding to your hips and one on your thighs to keep them there, his hold is stern enough to let you know that if you were to move them, oh little one, there will be consequences. You tried your best to keep them there as he press sweet lingering kisses all over the very surface of your folds, all wet and begging for him.

You gasped at the sudden sensation of his fingers parting your warm heat gently, making way for his tongue to spread the wetness from your opening up up up through the soft muscle then to your pearl, focusing on the now reddened and hardened nub with teasing licks and not yet a suckle on the oversensitive gem for he knows you would crumble and reach your peak oh so suddenly— no he wants to keep you on edge for a little longer, having you on that teetering insanity, controlling your pleasure as he pleases.

But when he does let up and suckle on the raw pulsing nub— you let out a sound akin to that of a scream, somewhere between a loud needy whine and strained moan— causing him to grunt, sending vibrations through your core, you jolted at the feeling, arching your back to pull away from him but causing a grinding effect instead— you clasped a hand on your lips to stifle the wanton sounds you let out.

“Ah-ah, do not hide from me now, little one.” He rasps against your cunt, you had half the mind to be bratty and yank his hair for causing you to be so so messy, but you only bit your tongue to halt yourself from getting yet another bruises from the last time you were bent over his knee— which was not that long ago, having been ridiculed on yet another Aegon’s quest, combined with your snappy attitude had him seeing red.

“Enough.”

“No.” You raised your eyebrow at the fuming man standing tall over you, having you crane your neck just to look up at his sharp eye and the mean clench of his jaw, “Thread carefully, sister.” He warned you, tilting his head that should’ve been an indication for you to stop— but alas you wanted to push him, to see the limit that is Aemond Targaryen, if only there is one— you rolled your eyes then, biting the inside of your cheek in an act of defiance. Oh now you have done it, little girl.

You barely seen him coming for the next you knew, you yelped as he manhandled you over his knee on the bed, both of your wrists are behind you, tightly gripped by his much larger ones— “Let me go.” You whined, trying to tug free of his grip only for him to chuckle darkly, “You wanted to test me, push me, and now you shall see the consequence of your misbehavior.”

“Aemond—“

“Ah-ah, if you wanted me to treat you like a whore, all you gotta do is ask, darling.” You clenched at that, letting out a squeaky gasp at the way his voice resonates through the room, “Hm, lets see if we can put that mouth to a better use than running your tongue like a tart.” With that he pushed two of his free digit to the inside of your bitten lips— down down down until it rests against your throat.

You looked up at him with teary eyes, heated cheeks, and lips wide open with his fingers stuffed inside of you— both preventing you to speak and constrict your air intake, causing your head to get fuzzy— not dangerous just flying on that mind space of him him him, Aemond notices your now cloudy lilac orbs and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead— all the gentleness short lived, however, when he freed your wrist from his grip to press a loud impactful swat to your cheeks causing you to yelp against his fingers.

“Now lets see if your dumb little head can count for me.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you feel the stinging white noise of his slap against your folds— yelping as you feel your peak closing in, “I’m close— please please.” You writhed underneath him before he gently shushes you, taking one of his hand and intertwining it with yours, whilst he enters your wet warm opening with the other— a finger slides in, before a second joining the pleasurable stretch.

“Tight little thing, you are.” He shakes his head between your thighs but your ears are ringing too loudly to register anything right now, mind so so hazy with cunt so so overstimulated, meanwhile, Aemond continues his ministration on your pearl, suckling on the poor nub with vigorous attention, “Mmnh, I—“ You can feel the height of your pleasure come crashing down on you, stomach tightening with heat, too hard, too much, so quickly.

“Let go for me, sweetling.”

You obeyed at his command, as you always do, a good girl you are always do as he wishes— your peak was a long one with you letting out a silent scream followed by plethoras of his name and chanting ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh Gods!’ as he savor your release.

The man above you grinned as your body shake beneath him, having one of the hardest peak of your life, he pulled his fingers out of you with a satisfied smile— a proud one at that, having to see your essence coating not only the tabletop where all the lords that serve him now would sit to discuss the runs about the realm, about his reign but also covering his fingers. You’re a delectable delight, perfect molded whore, carefully shaped nymph for him. His.

Aemond stands up, intertwining both your fingers together to guide you to sit up— having been near insensate from your heightened senses, he had to support your spine as you shakily face him again— and his sight of you is one he can only describe of all Seven heavens in itself. You, a mess you are, silver hair mused and wild as if you had been on Valyx back, it cascades down the plane of your shoulder and back, your face is flustered, eyes droopy, unfocused, and lips, your lips pulled into a drunken kind of smile.

Oh, he has gotten you in a place where all you can do is take what he gives you. Fuck.

You, sweet pliant you, in the daze of your peak welcomes him gleefully when he presses a passionate kiss on your lips, feverishly moving your lips with his, you gasp as he bit your bottom lip, tongue entering to enter your wet cavern once more, before parting with a lewd pop! sound, “Syz riña.” good girl.

The gentleness of his actions are short lived though, Aemond smirks before you feel him manhandled you around, and bend you over the cold stone table, causing you to gasp in both surprise as well as feeling the chilling sensation on your tummy and up your overstimulated chest area, “Shh, no fussing.” He scolded you as if you’re a child, but his stern tone alone made your knee goes weaker.

You can hear the sound of his breeches being untied behind you, the sound alone has your neck craning to the side, your head pressed against the table and drags one of your leg upwards to graze against his legs, smiling to yourself in a post peak-haze state, “Hurry.”— that soft giggly voice of your demand surprises Aemond as he chuckled behind you, shaking his head at the gentle brattiness you let out.

“Aemond!” You yelped when you feel his hand coming down on your bottom, not once but three times in loud harsh succession— you lift your legs once more not out of teasing nature but to quell the pain and the oh so good feeling that comes from it, your cunt clenching around nothing as you arch, “Little girls who ran their mouth will not get anything but this, you hear me?” He said, palming your now reddened tender skin roughly, though the sensation makes you whimper.

“Of course you’d love that too, filthy girl.” He gives you no time to process his words before he tap the now hard leaking length against your opening, which makes you whine lewdly, he is pushing just slightly in, but not enough to even get half of his tip in, making you cry out in frustration, “Kostilus, lēkia.” Please, brother.

“Hm, I do love seeing you beg for it.” He hummed, pressing a kiss on the skin of your back, before breaching the tight opening of your cunt inch by inch, “Fuck, missed this tight cunt.” He grunts, feeling the way your walls sucking him in inside your warm heat.

The stretch caused you to wail and mewl “Tis too much—“ and, “too big!” if anything, the sound of your protests and the contradicting clench of your cunt around his cock is making him more feral— almost animalistic in how he thrusts harder inside you, before burying himself deep deep deep, head nudging the opening of your cervix with just the right amount of pain from the pleasure of being opened by his length, and pleasure from the way the curved tip hit your spongey spot with ease.

Aemond does not let you breathe much it seems, as he begin his fulfilling assault on your battered cunny, thrusting his length oh so deep before pulling, then slam it back in with vigorous pace, hitting all the right places even when his width alone made you shudder near your peak, “So good— oh!” You moaned, closing your eyes and arching your back, to which he responded with a hand yanking your silver locks tightly, the impossibly deep arch of your back has you both drunk on the feeling.

“Take it, take me.” He moaned in your ear, not once does he relent in his pace, always fucking into you harder, pounding you into oblivion, so much so that your cannot care anymore of who might heard what the of you are doing in the very same table he now commanded, he now holds the highest marble rank, the thought would exhilarate you further if you had not been so consumed by the way his cock reach your sweetest spot over and over again.

“Let them hear you, sweetling— fuck, let them know who you belong to, who is in fucking charge.” His words have double the meaning, that you can interpret perfectly, for he relinquish in the knowledge of claiming you, owning you, which you happily obliged, but he also needs to hear it from you that he has deserved this place, as the Prince Regent, that he has fully earned it, and shall lead the realm as his own.

“I belong to- Ah! you, My Prince…” Your voice is shaky in the wake of your nearing release, your velvety walls involuntarily clenched around him when his hips stuttered at the revelation that is you words, it seeped into his skin, thrumming along his veins— his grip on your hair and waist is tightening, for you are sure that your skin would be covered by his love marks by the morrow, but you did not care, let them see, let them know who rules the Seven Kingdoms, and who is steadfastly stood by his side, his Queen.

“Ao nykē perzōñi iksi, ābrazȳrys. Hen prānot hae mērȳ zālagon indīliks.” You and I are made of fire, wife. We have always been meant to burn together.

“Issa! zaldrīzo ānogar, Īlvon qumblī iāris.” Yes! blood of the dragon, ours runs thick. You replied in the midst of your clouded mind, his declaration has made you seen the stars that for a moment you thought you had been flying through the sky with Valyx, yet make no mistake, for his hips driving into you, and the way he snaked one of his arms down around you to rub at your pearl, instantly ground you back to earth, “Va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Joined as one. He whispered deeply, “Avy jorrālean, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

“Come for me.” He rasped deep in your ear, that was the last restraint you have on you, as the combination of the never ending pounding of his cock inside your now oversensitive cunt has you curling your toes, the feeling of his fingers rubbing quick circle over your now engorged reddened nub has tears running down your face so prettily, so messily, painting the perfect picture of a ruined slut just for him.

You came with sobs escaping your lips, the plethora of whimpers of his name heightened the pressure inside the now sex smelling room, the sound of steps are loud from the grounds outside the keep, so does the sound of the occasional knight’s armors clanking, but all of that escaped your mind— too dumb speared on his length to give a fuck, your eyes closed as his hips faltered, feeling him shake above you at the telltale sign of his own impending release, you smiled drunkenly at the knowledge of your effect on him, “Give it to me, please, fill me up,” You mewled softly, finding every bit of your strength left to urge him, “Give me a babe, Aemond— mmh! let me give you an heir.”

Aemond groaned loudly at your words, “Fuck— fucking shit.” You have no idea what you have said to him, sweet girl, you have no idea how the thought of him marking you, both bound by blood, vow, and his seed inside you, does to him. You have no idea how much he wishes to always keep you full of his come, so you may be swelled with babes, because then nobody would ever question his claim over you, nor claim over the true line of Targaryen blood that is deserving of the Iron Throne.

He thrusted inside you one more time before stilling himself deep— so fucking deep inside you with his tip nudging your womb, and releases his seed inside of you with words of lewd affirmations spilling out of his lips, “Good girl, gonna watch you swell with my babe.” and, “Take it, little one, I’m yours— fuck!”

Your neck craned to the side as warmth filled your insides, smiling and biting your lips at the overwhelming sensation of both searing pain as well as being completely full of him, claimed and mark by him, undoubtedly his, “Avy jorrāelan, valzȳrys.” I love you, husband. You muttered, his eye still closed and his lips peppering small kisses along the plane of your back and your spine.

After some moment of calming down basked in silence, with only each other’s deep breathing, and him humming high Valyrian to your ears, he then slipped out of you, before turning you around and carry you to the where the chair for the King, or in this instance, the Prince Regent is located.

He sat down on it, with you laying on top of his lap in a fetal position, the crown of your head is tucked safely under his chin whilst his palm caresses the skin across your back and arms softly, “I hope I was not too rough.” He murmured against your hair, kissing at the messy silver strands lovingly.

“You were…” You mumbled, looking at him mischievously, he raised an eyebrow at you- biting the inside of his cheek awaiting your response, “But I like it.” Came your reply, cheeks flushed once more at the way he muttered something akin to “Fucking hell” under his breath.

“Aemond—“

“I will never put you in danger.” He said, eyes boring into yours, full of hope, full of promises, “Do you trust me?” His voice came out with a hint of vulnerability to you, almost like he bares his neck for you to bite if you so please.

You frown at this, “Of course,” You put your palm on his jaw, “Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.” Vow spoken through time, of darkness and light. He smiled at your words, have long he had dreamed of binding your blood in the tradition of Old Valyria, he is perhaps the perfect devout son that worships the Seven, yet he is also very much connected to the blood of the dragon as you are with yours. Tis’ something he have vowed to do with you once the realm’s stability comes back.

“Do not be afraid.”

“With you? never again.”

It is true that you longed for nothing more than to be with him in a world of your own, in a world where there is no more bloodshed, in a realm where peace is known, no green— no black, just you and him— but you also know that it is wishful thinking, for you all have a part to play, you included, as Helaena has said before, if your part is to be the eye he had lost, if your part is to be his anchor, his devoted wife, his sweet sister, his lover, his destiny, then by his side is where you shall be.

For it is better to go to Seven hells and back with him, then to live in agony without him.

You’re bound by vow, by blood, by wounds, by heart, and most importantly by that invisible string of everlasting fire. You are meant to burn together.

[writtnbyhan]

NFWMB.

PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader

TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1945

PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3

You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.

You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.

So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.

You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.

Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.

“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.

“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!

You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.

“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”

She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.

It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.

After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.

Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).

Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.

“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.

“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.

He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.

“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.

“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.

You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.

“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.

“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.

“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.

“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.

“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.

The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.

“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.

“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”

“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.

“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.

That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.

“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”

Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.

Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.

You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.

“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”

Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.

“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.

Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.

“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.

[sleepiedahlia]

HIS TAIL

FEATURING: LEVIATHAN,SATAN,BELPHIE,BARBATOS

TW: both smut and fluff but mostly fluff! tell me if i missed anything!

HIS WINGS|HIS TAIL ( YOU ARE HERE)

LEVIATHAN

-surprisingly his tail has a lot more scales then the rest of his body but he sheds every few months to make sure his scales are healthy and I also think he might be able to grow it back..?

-but his tail is very long and smooth scales so when you touch it your hand glides over his tail with ease

-he doesn’t use his tail as a defense mechanism as much as satan does because 1. He doses leave his room and 2.he’s really not a fighter,but if he did use his tail for defense he’ll hind of lift up his tail and wave it around slightly as warning but if someone doesn’t listen he will smack the living hell out of the with his tail

-his most sensitive sensitive area is the base of his tail even though his whole tail is sensitive but if you Touch by the base of his tail he shakes a little bit but he does like it! But during cuddling he wraps his tail around your waist or leg and the Same goes for in bed but he’ll be slightly more tight and he definitely uses it to help you out when you need it ;)

SATAN

-for Satan showing his tail to you when he is not angry is a sign of love deeper then anyone could imagine

-but his tail has very rough scales so it does make it harder to Touch because it’s also kinda spiky as well

-when he gets angry his tail becomes a weapon and it hurts when it Hits you smack dab in the fase…yeah that will leave…a few marks,when he tries to warn someone on the rare occasion if he doesn’t already try to kill them the first time they did something his tail wraps around his leg tightly almost enough to go through his skin and most of time he tries to use it to kill lucifer

-his Most sensitive are is the tip of his tail and when you touch it he’ll pull away pretty quickly but once he realizes you mean no harm to him he’ll let you touch it as much of you want!

-he does like to have it wrapped around you a lot and especially when you two read together but only in private because he wouldn’t have it out in public ever only if he was about to make someone have a 504 error and never be seen again

BELPHIE

-belphie has a cow like tail but it's not soft though it's more rough then it looks but it doesn’t stop him from sleeping with it

-he mostly uses it to keep you as his cuddle buddy for longer then you wanted but that’s actually how he first showed it you, he had his tail wrapped around your waist

-but after he realized he was doing that it was too late and he did that every time you cuddled or slept with him:)

-defense wise he doesn’t use it all but if he did he would also try to use to kill Lucifer and put him six feet under or someone took his pillow and he wants revenge which also might end in a 504 error…just don’t cross him…

-his most sensitive place is the tip of his tail before it goes into a big fluff ball,if you do touch there he’ll just wrap his tail around your hand tightly and that all that really happens but if it where someone else beware he might strangle them to death

-in bed I think he would just use it to hold you down and he would definitely use the fluff part of his tail to mess with your nipples a little bit or your clit

BARBATOS

-barbatos tail has a slight slimy feeling to it and has more of a sea serpent shape to his tail like levi

-but he uses his tail like another arm he can use it for anything and since he has and extra part to his tail he could definitely hold you down and grab else at the same time

-the only time he’d ever use his tail is when someone tried to do something to the prince,I swear with his tail he could take like 4 demons out at the same time and he also has good tail reflex’s so he can tell when something’s near him and if something’s thrown at him he can smack it away or grab it with his tail but he could also probably use his tail like a spear also

-honestly I don’t think he has any sensitive spots but if I had to chose a specific place it would be the extra part on his tail and if someone or you were to touch it he will just ask you to stop but if it’s you he won’t say anything and just let’s you touch it

-in bed he could possibly use the second part on his tail to stimulate you while he’s fucking you into the mattress but if your into gagging he would probably use his tail as a gag for you if you wanted:)

@SLEEPIEDAHLIA

- PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK! BUT PLEASE ADD CREDIT IF YOU USED MINE AS A REFERENCE FOR A POST! PLEASE AND THANK YOU! -

[palajae]

episode three. | park sunghoon

PAIRING ▸ host!sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ ouran high school host club!au, high school! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WC ▸ 3.1k

SUMMARY ▸ host park sunghoon: the strong and silent type. with his cold, tsundere personality and killer good looks, it’s hard not to fall for sunghoon. his connection to sunoo is of utmost importance; however, you could be the one to change that. (but be warned, he’s a man of few words.)

AKA episode three of the kiss, kiss, fall in love! series

AN/NOTES ▸ social awkwardness, not proofread

sorry okay it’s been a fat minute since i posted but FINALLY JAE has gotten the next part out ‼️ i really channeled the engene in me for this one lmao.

EPISODE THREE. Beware the Ice Prince!

seriously, you only started attending the en-host club because your friends did and you really had nothing else to do.   

you had heard several of the boys in your grade were in the infamous club, but besides that, you had no interest in “club” affairs. 

natty and lily wouldn’t stop talking about how “chivalry wasn’t dead” and how “god had favorites.” you figured by going, you could kill some time and meet some new people.

mainly due to the fact that you were attached to the hip to your… well, sketchbook. what better to utilize the people around you for your passion? 

and the most pretty ones were—obviously—found at the en-host club! 

by going there, you could observe and hopefully see some good art. 

while your friends had their favorite designated hosts and activities, your first entrance to the club involved a lot of awkward silence and muttering. 

“you mean, you don’t want to hang out with any of us?” sunoo—you think—frowns. 

you shake your head, stammering. “n-no! i just, prefer to be alone. i can just-like-sit in the corner or something.”

he brightens up and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“i see. you just like the company?” 

you nod and the host smiles again. “that’s fine. you don’t have to be entertained by one of us. you’re welcome as much as you like! you could even sit by sunghoon!”

your eyebrows furrow as you follow sunoo’s line of sight to-

oh dear. 

probably the finest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

a true work of art. 

your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest as you glance back at sunoo.

“he doesn’t like to talk much either, so i think you two will get along well!” 

you look uncertainly at the controlled chaos happening all around the room, before back at sunoo. 

he nods encouragingly at you. “don’t worry. even though sunghoon looks like it, he doesn’t bite. in fact, it’s probably the opposite.”

holding your breath, you clutch your sketchbook tighter in your hands before approaching the table sunghoon was quietly sitting at. 

he didn’t even do anything, yet you felt so intimidated. 

wow, it was really stifling to be in his presence. awkwardly, you take a seat. and although he doesn’t move, you feel his eyes land on you. 

biting your lip, you hesitantly wave. 

that was it. no words exchanged. 

after a while, you finally began to relax. still, neither of you said anything. you even felt alright enough to open your sketchbook. 

your eyes would travel across the room, although they always landed on the same person. the one sitting in front of you, silently sipping his tea.

so you sketched. and you enjoyed it. so much to the point you returned the day after, and the day after. 

eventually, the hosts came to know you as a regular. they knew your exact order and your routine. the same every time you came—even without your friends. 

they understood that you simply appreciated sitting and observing. with all the things going on at the club, you enjoyed staying off to the side the most. 

like sunghoon. 

after the first day, you couldn’t work up the courage to approach and sit next to him when he wasn’t with sunoo hosting. 

that was fine. you had eyes. you could sketch him as long as you could see him. pages, filled with a variety of sketches, began to fill up your notebook. 

and most of them were of sunghoon. 

who were you kidding—all of them were of him. every outfit in every season, every expression of his (and he rarely showed emotion). you basically memorized sunghoon’s face. 

and in your time observing at the en-host club, you realized you had only heard him speak a total of six phrases: welcome, goodbye, yes, no, and thank you. 

he more than piqued your interest, but you were far too shy and unmotivated to do something about it. 

checking the clock, you sigh wistfully while putting your sketchbook back into your bag. as always, this was your time to leave. occasionally, one of the hosts would notice you leaving and wave goodbye. 

this time, you’re almost to the door when a tall figure suddenly appears in your line of vision. 

you falter, swallowing abruptly when you realize it’s sunghoon. he looks dashing in his pink hoodie and light jeans—someone mentioned the boys had a boyfriend concept today.  

you stare up at him curiously until he steps closer to you. your mouth dries up at the close proximity. you feel like you can hear your blood rushing in your ears. 

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, as per usual. instead, he walks over and holds open the door for you. 

for a second, you don’t move. and then it hits you. 

what the what the what the, he opened the door for you! 

you quickly squeak out a thank you before practically dashing out of the club room. you’re not sure if you heard or imagined the soft “get home safe,” coming from his voice. 

was he watching you? is that how he knew to open the door? why did he go all the way to help you? did he know what time you usually left? 

you fall onto your bed with a sigh. you were overthinking, and you were delusional. just a little bit. 

perhaps, you would work up the courage to talk to him next time.

you swear you’re not that delusional. most of the time it was you who was staring at sunghoon, sneaking glances at him when he wasn’t looking. whenever he was busy hosting. honestly, your best works were of his stunning side profile. 

but something feels different from that day forward. 

like…like sunghoon was the one staring at you. at first, you were sure you felt eyes on you. 

you would glance up from your sketchbook with a frown, glancing around the room. it was at that moment you would catch sunghoon turning away from you. 

but in what world would he be looking at you? 

he didn’t say a single word. 

it happened so often to the point where you would actually meet his eyes before looking away. you always broke eye contact first. 

this back-and-forth occurred four times before you decided to do something. yes, you counted. 

you decided to remind yourself that you only live once, and you took the chance. you finally stopped being a coward and sat next to sunghoon, one lovely afternoon. 

he seems almost shocked when you approach him, like your very first day at the host club. 

once again, no words were spoken. you simply smiled before taking the seat. unlike the other girls who usually fawned and squealed over him, all you did was sit and enjoy his company. honestly, he was so familiar to you at this point, you actually felt comfortable.   

and when you thought he wasn’t looking, you liked to sneak peeks at him as well. he was even more breathtaking up close. 

that became your daily routine whenever sunghoon was free. although it was absurd, you once thought that maybe he looked forward to sitting and watching with you. 

“what’s up with you and sunghoon?”

“h-huh?”

natty leans over from her desk to shoot you a look. “i mean, what are you two doing in the corner all day?”

you look down at your desk bashfully, “it’s not all day…i just enjoy his company.” 

lily laughs, “sure. i bet you have a lot fun staring at him.” 

you feel your face get hot as natty elbows her. “i think the two of you are cute. even if you have nothing to say to each other.” 

“yeah, i don’t know how you managed to get so close to him. sunghoon is pretty detached from the other girls. he’s just there half the time with sunoo.”

your heart quickens. was that true? 

lily sighs, almost face planting into the table. “what up with all the boys recently? heeseung has been so obsessed with that one student who i don’t even know the name of since they’re so busy studying all the time. and then the top two people of our class are constantly preoccupied with each other. at this rate, i’m gonna move to jake…”

you nodded in contemplation. she was right, you’ve seen heeseung following around your classmate like a baby duck following their mom. even weirder, the two smartest people in your grade started to sit together at the club. 

you were there for it all. 

“sim jaeyun? um, I’m not sure about him. he and riki have a lot of crazy fan girls,” natty wrinkles her nose. “hey, i did hear there was a new host! his name is jung…jung-something.”

“jungwon,” you finish for her. she nods, “i think he’s pretty handsome.”

“not as much as sunghoon though,” you unconsciously mutter. 

sunghoon can easily remember the first day you walked in, eyes wide like you were a kid on their first day of school. the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly. you looked like a baby kitten. 

he catches himself, focusing back on sipping tea while sunoo devoured his sweet treats. 

“do you want a bite, hoon?”

he shakes his head amusedly at sunoo’s bright expression. 

“you should stop eating so many sweets. you already had two slices of cake today.” 

while sunoo pouts and gets up to put his plate away, sunghoon refocuses his attention on you. he didn’t mean to—his gaze was just drawn to your presence. 

he watches wordlessly as sunoo approaches you. you looked so intimidated, sunghoon already felt bad and he didn’t know the reason. 

he catches himself again, internally chiding his own behavior. get a grip, you’re a host. 

suddenly, you’re approaching him. you look like a kitten again in front of him, just like when you first walked in. his whole body tenses. 

sunghoon waits, yet you don’t say anything. only a simple wave and that’s enough to light a fire in his heart. 

he’s surprised to see you sit down and pull out a sketchbook. he observes as you flip through the pages, trying to sneak a peek. but then he realizes he’s being kinda, really creepy. 

so sunghoon purposely turns away to focus. look anywhere but at the person sitting across from you, he repeats to himself over and over. 

after that day, he noticed you didn’t sit next to him. for quite a while. 

so, he chose to watch you. he watched you walk in every afternoon with a hesitant smile. he watched as you took the same seat near the window and pulled out your scuffed up notebook to draw. 

he watched how your lips pursed when you weren’t happy with a sketch, or how you would stop to think while looking around you. 

sunghoon liked the way your eyes lit up when you turned to a blank, fresh page. and when you would smile and greet the other hosts, gratefully accepting a cup of tea. even the look of concern you had on your face as you watched jake and riki do something stupidly dangerous again. 

the thing he liked the most, however, was when he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. 

sunghoon’s not sure why, but he likes it. after all, he couldn’t say anything. he did the same thing to you. 

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

that’s why, when you sit across from him one day with that stunning smile of yours, his breath hitched. 

sunghoon… wanted to say something. he tried, really tried, but no words would come out. he couldn’t think of anything to say. 

apparently, that was fine with you. you relaxed in the silence, so he did too. 

it’s not like he meant to, but he snuck a glance. he was so curious as to what you had been working on in that sketchbook of yours. he knew it had to be your prized possession, the way you carried it around everywhere. 

sunghoon certainly wasn’t expecting to see his own face, beautifully drawn. it was him from a few weeks ago, last week, and yesterday. he remembers the detective concept and outfits they adorned. 

you… you sketched it all. all this time, you sketched him? 

he’s truly speechless, and everyone knew it was hard to make the stoic sunghoon react. 

“…are you friends with y/n?” he randomly asks one day after the club had closed for the day, completely out of the blue. 

sunoo tilts his head, “we’ve talked. why?” 

heeseung pops by, “did i hear hoon’s got a crush? who could have warmed the cold tsundere sunghoon’s heart?”

although he wants to roll his eyes, he simply looks away. 

“y/n?” riki calls from where he’s playing catch with jake, “the one who doesn’t say anything and draws all day?”

“they could if they wanted to,” sunghoon remarks quietly. riki shrugs. 

sunoo watches sunghoon with an inquisitive expression. 

he’s never seen his friend act like that with the other guests before… 

“it’s his birthday soon?” the words spill out of your mouth without even realizing it. you stopped, overhearing some girls sitting near you. 

they eye you, and it registers in your head that they know you’re the one whom sunghoon often sits next to. you seem oh so close to him, and yet you don’t know his birthday? you feel embarrassed, making your way to your normal seat.

“hoon? yeah, his birthday is in three days,” sunoo nods. “why? are you planning something?” 

you’re quick to shake your head, flustered. “nono, i was simply curious… thanks for letting me know.” 

alright. you officially have three days to find sunghoon a gift. 

it’s only then it hits you. you know close to nothing about sunghoon. other than the fact that he was a host, you barely knew his likes or dislikes. heck, you barely even spoke to him. 

you’re doomed. all the other guests were probably going to get him extravagant gifts that were exactly to his liking. 

you? you scrambled to find something that would come in three days. and you weren’t even sure if he would like it. at the least, he could regift it to someone else if he really hated it. 

you clutch the small gift bag nervously behind you as you enter the host club. 

usually, decorations would be set up for the members’ birthdays. however, sunghoon never wanted a big celebration so they would get him a simple birthday cake every year. at least, that’s what sunoo told you. 

sunghoon wanted his birthday day to feel like any other ordinary day. you hoped you could stay true to that. 

or…not.

the sight of said host rejecting someone’s gift to him is the first thing that greets you. your smile immediately falters. 

he didn’t like gifts? your heart begins to race. crap, crap. what were you going to do? you couldn’t hide the gift—someone would find it. it was obviously who it was for, with the big fat words happy birthday printed all over the bag. plus your names written on it, addressed to sunghoon. 

your eyes follow him to his usual seat, only for your heart to drop. 

sunghoon looks around expectantly. almost like, he was… looking for someone (you). he does. almost immediately. 

if you move, he’ll see the bag behind you. heart racing, you decide to charge ahead and approach him. you couldn’t face a rejection of the gift you spent hours trying to find, but you also didn’t want to leave him hanging. 

you walk over nervously, doing your absolute best to hide the bag and appear unaffected. maybe he wouldn’t notice, right?

wrong. sunghoon was probably the most observant person on the earth. his eyes immediately fall to your suspicious hands.

it was over. his eyes flick back up to you with a questioning look in them. 

you close your eyes briefly, internally falling to your knees. well, there was nothing else to do. 

you nervously thrust out the bag towards him, hiding your face as you softly say,

“happy birthday, sunghoon.” 

you hold your breath and wait embarrassingly for the painful rejection. 

spoiler: it never comes. 

“thank you.” 

hearing his voice causes shivers to run down your spine. your eyes fly open. did he just…accept your gift? and more importantly, he spoke to you?!

he takes the bag and puts it aside on the table. 

“are you not going to open it?” 

he looks at your expectant expression before beginning to unwrap the gift. 

“i thought maybe we could share,” you mumble. 

sunghoon carefully opens the intricate wrapping to unveil the gift you ultimately decided on: a smooth, leather sketchbook with pencils. 

“now we’re matching,” you whisper before pulling out your own. 

“i… don’t know what to do with it.”

hearing his voice again still makes goosebumps appear on your arm. you stifle a laugh as you reach over to demonstrate. 

the real sunghoon watches in awe as you begin roughly drawing something in his new sketchbook. when you retract your arm, he’s finally able to see what you did. it’s a beautiful drawing of a cake and the words, happy sunghoon day! 

he glances up at you with wide eyes. you shrug and only look away. to your surprise, sunghoon determinedly picks up a pen and begins doodling as well. 

soon enough, the first page is filled with random drawings, doodles, and most importantly, meaningful connections. 

you both smile and silently laugh at each other’s drawings. sunghoon’s favorite is your drawing of a baby sunoo and his cake while your favorite is of sunghoon’s (rather awful, yet still recognizable) drawing of the seven hosts. 

this is the first time you’ve felt like you truly communicated with sunghoon, even if it was through a paper and pen instead of words. 

when the page is filled completely, you admire your collaboration work proudly. 

“thank you, y/n.”

your heart warms. “o-of course,” you stammer. maybe you were slightly very internally freaking out that he addressed you by your name. 

sunghoon must’ve seen your bashful expression because he reaches over to pat your head. nothing else had to be said, because in that moment, you felt all your feelings were conveyed. 

park sunghoon was supposed to be the cold and tsundere type of host. yet around you, he felt vulnerable, like you brought out a different side of him. 

as you sit across from him, sharing smiles, you wish this moment could last forever. 

all you can think is that sunghoon’s soul is so pure and needs to be preserved, protected. you really hope you can be the one to forever do that. 

previous episode. | next episode.

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[saltandfire-blog]

All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

--

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

[dereliction-if]

DERELICTION - One empire. Three kingdoms. Four races. A fate so fragile, and yet the celestial spirits decided to put it in the hands of their own potential deicide.

In a fractured realm plagued by ancient animosities, where empires clash and races vie for their own goal, their own dominance, a haunting destiny hangs over an unlikely figure. A pariah, an outcast, and perhaps the only hope - You.

You bear the weight of a dark lineage and the remnants of a once-powerful origin - now shunned by all races. While shadows of your tragic past loom large, a seemingly chance encounter thrusts you into a perilous journey. The path ahead is cloaked in uncertainty, an abyss that beckons you to confront your deepest fears, your deepest desires - a choice that may tip the scales toward salvation or everlasting despair.

It’s upon you to decide: Can you outrun your fate, or will you succumb to the very darkness you seek to defy?

/// FEATURES:

Customize the Main Character (MC) and hereby influence your path in the world:

• Name (including Nickname & Alias)

• Pronouns (choose preset or set your own)

• Gender (male, female & non-binary options)

• Appearance (hair, eye colour, size, body type, scars & more)

• Race: Thao‘Raq

• Personality (influencing events, attitudes & behaviour towards you)

• Vices (choose your poison)

• An inner power yet to identify What else? Different POVs (incl. your ROs POVs)

/// HOW IT ALL BEGAN - YOUR STORY:

/// THE WORLD (MAP WIP)

/// CHARACTERS:

For thy company makes thy destiny:

Several characters that highly influence your path, depending on your relationship and choices. Some of them you‘ll encounter just once, whilst others will be your companions for a long while. But relationships might change, due to events in the past, decisions you made. Beware, character deaths are happening and some consequences will only show in the long run.

Important characters to be announced soon

/// ROMANTIC OPTIONS:

Overall there will be 5 ROs and plenty of short term encounters - see below (Spoiler alert)

RO#1: The royal heir

Princess Sonea - she/her, 1,76m (5'9") Prince Solas - he/him, 1,94m (6'4") - 22yo, straight or gay; race: Human

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

The first time your eyes locked, both your fates were decided. Yet, nobody could have known what consequence just one destined moment would mean for both of you and, further, the whole realm. Will you be each other’s key or knife?

RO#2: The sovereign

Amara Dougal - she/her, 1,81m (5'11") - 31yo, straight or gay, race: Human x Thao‘Raq

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

You were never meant to be more than a tool for them - an interchangeable toy to kill boredom, play a little game of strength, willpower and dominance. Then you managed to surprise them. Was that your plan all along?

Mood Board: here

RO#3: The mage

Jia - she/her, 1,65m (5'5"); he/him, 1,79m (5'10"); they/them, 1,73m (5'8") - 21yo, demi, race: Eirdimon

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

You stumbled into their life, being the first light in a long while. They are grateful for the new perspectives you bring into their life, even though you turn their whole world upside down. Still, they decided to never let you go again.

RO#4: The mercenary

Havu Guillame - she/her, 1,73m (5'8"); he/him 1,87m (6'2") - 26yo, pan, race: Sertynan

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

A rusty knife, straight between their shoulder blades sounded like a much more enjoyable scenario than having to spend time with you. Not because you are exceptionally annoying, which you can be, but because bearing anybody else’s burden is nothing more than a waste of time to them.

RO#5: The knight

Daria Baran - she/her, 1,97m (6'6") Darius Baran - he/him, 2,03m (6'8") - 38yo, straight (?), race: Human

Appearance: tba

Personality: tba

Their oath is the reason why they are stuck with you. If it were possible, they would‘ve avoided it as a whole, but it seems carrying your ass around, reminding you of your manners, duties and cleaning the mess you leave behind you, is their painful responsibility now.

/// RACES: Click on each race to find out more

Sertynan (Original purpose: Diplomacy & Peace)

Eirdimon (Original purpose: Creation & Wisdom)

Human soon

Thao‘Raq (Original purpose: Protection & Defense)

>>> physical appearances - race specific: here

/// FLORA & FAUNA:

Buorshik (Lizard)

/// CONTENT WARNING: 🔞 Dark adult fiction

contains mentions of violence, bullying, racism, body horror, torture, gore, medical procedures, death, alcohol, drugs, addiction, abuse, self harm, optional sexual content incl. prostitution.

Full content warning here.

/// LAST UPDATE: 08.04.2024

In early development. DEMO: t.b.a.

Note: Each chapter will be published once it is finished.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Consequences | Prologue

Summary: Only nine and ten, she does not know much about the world and when she acquires a job at the Red Keep as a maidservant, she catches the dark and ominous attention of the One-Eyed Prince. Unsure if she even wants it, she may realise that the realm is not so kind to lowborn women, regardless of the situation they find themselves in | Word Count: 1.4k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, dark, medieval-canon sexism, dub-con, mean Aemond, manipulation, gore, blood, violence, major angst

A/N: This is intended to be a dark one, so please read all the warnings before continuing. Warnings will be highlighted when needed. Aemond’s gonna be pretty mean, self-serving and not at all very nice in this one! Basically a spoilt prince reaping the benefits, so beware. You know me, I love a bit of angst.

She liked being early to rise.

It meant that for a few small moments, she could pretend that the hallways were all her own. However brief they were. It was a small slither of peace for the young maidservant. 

That was at least until the Red Keep began to wake. The murmured whispers of the staff to one another, organising the various meals for the royal family, making sure their clothes were ready and prepared, ensuring that their rooms were neat and tidy for their arrival back to their chambers and drawing their baths at their behest.

It was tough work at times, but it was good, honest labour and for her services, she was paid much more than she could have even dreamed of. That said, most of it was sent to her younger siblings where she could spare it, but it was still entirely novel and rewarding to earn her own coin.

It was a fine, clear day like any other. The servant’s quarters were bustling with busy maidservants, rushing around after their allocated jobs. Most of the other maidservants were of a similar age, but their temperaments fierce away from the forced politeness they were obligated to offer the royal family. It could very often get catty. And sometimes it was best to say little at all, where it could be helped. People talked, gossiped and made fun for themselves in the dreary, everyday lull of being at the behest of King and Queen. She did not blame them for making fun, but perhaps it was naïve of her to believe it could be done without cruelty.

One particular girl, not much older than her, assumed a role akin to a elder sister amongst the little band of maidservants. She had chestnut hair that was braided like the other staff, in plaits and pulled behind the head, stuck with pins and out of the way. Her name was Hedi, possibly short for something, but she dare not ask.

“Ah, there you are,” Hedi smiled in a sing-songy way, gesturing for her to come and join them, “you are to go to Prince Aemond’s rooms and take his clothes with you. He will be expecting his old bedsheets to be taken away,” she instructed, oblivious to the way the little maid servant's eyes widened. 

“Hedi, I have never-”

“Better you meet him now and get it over with, child,” she responded, pushing the bundle of clothes into her hands, ignoring the unsure look on her face. 

She had heard many things about the One-Eyed Prince. Aemond Targaryen. The second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent.

Since her employment at the Red Keep only a few moons ago, she had rarely seen any of the royal family with the exception of infrequent refills of their wine decanters at the dinner table. And even then, it was rare she could get a proper look at any of them as the halls were dark and lit only by candles at the table, obscuring some of their faces.

She had only heard stories of them.

Upon employment, Alicent had instructed Hedi that the new staff were not to be around her first son, Prince Aegon, by any means necessary. And though at the time, Hedi was not given any more information, she told the rest of the maidservants that she surmised that some wrongdoings caused the previous staff to leave King’s Landing altogether, moon tea in their bellies and a purse of gold dragons to keep their silence.

This did nothing to calm her nerves though, for she sometimes saw him walking around the Keep. Though she was advised to not spare a glance, she felt the weight of his eyes on her, and the other maidservants said the same.

Princess Helaena was a sort of anomaly. Nobody ever really saw her. Or perhaps she just made less of a fuss compared to her brothers. The few times she had seen the Princess at the table, Helaena had been staring forward at her plate, murmuring things under her breath.

That only left him, the One-Eyed Prince everyone so fondly called him. 

She had seen him only once, to her knowledge, at the aforementioned feast. He had been sitting at one end, his seeing eye downcast, looking anywhere but at the individuals he called family at the table before him. He seemed to not move an inch throughout, as if deep in thought. 

She took a deep breath and walked the long, winding path to the main halls of the Red Keep, along the corridor where Prince Aemond’s chambers would be. She whispered to herself that it would be alright, that the other maidservants were just trying to rile her up with fear for the man, for they’d said that he frightened them terribly. 

Willing the shake out of her breath, she stared at the door for a while, thinking that perhaps if she waited for a moment it’d be easier. But it just sent her heart racing even more. Her small fist gingerly knocked. 

“Prince Aemond,” she called softly. 

There was a moment of silence and muffled rustling inside the chambers, presumed to be his bedsheets. 

“Enter,” a groggy, male voice called out in return. 

Without thinking on it for another moment, she quickly slipped inside and though she did not mean to, her eyes briefly looked upon the Prince in his bed, halfway through sitting up tiredly. But her eyes were quickly drawn away once she had realised that there were no clothes on his person, and so with dusted cheeks she darted to the chair and placed the clothes atop it, making sure everything was there for him before drawing the curtains. Feeling somewhat flustered and out of sorts, she brushed the wayward curl from her face that had fallen loose from her braids and felt that hot annoyance as it continued to tickle her face. 

She ties the curtains together to keep them drawn and her heart quickens when she hears him get out of bed, stretch with a tired groan and pad over to the table near the fireplace. He pours himself a drink of water and is quiet for some time. 

“You are not my usual maid,” he says and when it is clear he is speaking to her, she turns around finally, offering a small nod. 

He is tall, almost unnaturally so. He wears only his nightclothes on his bottom half and leans against one of the armchairs, regarding her with an indescribable look in his one good eye, the other has a sapphire wedged inside, and she thought it must be uncomfortable to sleep with it. For a moment, she swallows nervously, he is broad and strong looking, but not in a burly way, and on the fair skin of his bare chest she can see several scars, all silver from age and hairline thin.

“No, your grace. I was sent to attend to you today,” she responds, shockingly evenly, clasping her hands in front of her before nervously smoothing her hands over her apron.

She sees the way his tongue pokes at his cheek, seemingly annoyed, “Hm,” he responds as he sips his water, “will you be attending to me from now on?”

Her tongue wets her lips nervously, “I am not sure, your grace.”

He seems like he wants to say more, but he just stands there, across the room, looking at her and enjoying the way she continues to shrink under his gaze.

She pushes that stray hair behind her ear once more as she moves to strip the bed, working quickly and without looking back towards the quiet prince. She can tell however, how his gaze never seems to leave her, watching her with interest. 

“What is your name,” from his lips it almost doesn’t sound like a question, more a demand.

Wound tight with anxiety, she tells him her name, which only makes him turn one side of his lip up in some form of a smile.

Once she has all the sheets folded and ready to take away, she stands with hands clasped, “is there anything else I can do for you this morning, your grace?”

He taps his finger against the glass he’s holding, as if in thought. And it’s extremely difficult to avert her eyes from the firm planes of his chest, but for the sake of politeness and her position, she forces herself to.

With a soft shake of his head, she gathers the sheets in her arms and makes for the chamber doors and her hand barely brushes the handle before his voice calls out her name.

“Yes, your grace?” she answers, a dusty pink covering her cheekbones with her nerves.

With a genuine, mischievous looking smirk, he strides widely towards her and her eyes never leave his face, feet planted firmly where she stands.

“I want you to attend to me from now on.”

General Aemond Taglist (DM me if you want to be removed)

@risefallrise​

[highlordofkrypton]

my ACOTAR wips // you wanted a villain?

I've been sitting on this one for a hot minute. I wrote this as a response to my annoyance with the shift in narrative, specifically towards Rhysand in the ACOTAR series.

So, I figured I'd introduce my morally gray boy (idek if he's gray, either), and see how it holds up, but then I got attached to the sibling dynamic with Amren. I also really enjoy writing ancient horrifying creatures, so...

Not sure if I'll continue this, but it was cathartic to write.

TL;DR - There's a new menace in town, and he's... Amren's older brother? Beware of depiction of violence, if ever you're not cool with that. Read the WIP under the cut.

TAGS: YOU ASKED FOR MY OC, YOU'LL GET MY OC. @watcherintheweyr @amalhe-kofee and @feyres-divorce-lawyer this is my anti-IC WIP that I mentioned... IT'S NOT FEYRE FRIENDLY BTW IM SORRY

The House of Wind rests on the side of a mountain, atop a valley, overlooking the beautiful city of Velaris. It is the throne upon which the high command of the Court sit, watching over the peasants who rebuild after war and knitting fanciful tales of proximity. From high above, behind their wards and between wild oak walls, they tell themselves—these are my people, this is my court. 

Lights wink shut across the city, like candles snuffed out by a violent breath. The darkness creeps in from the outskirts, slithering towards the House with frightful purpose. A blanket of silence hushes the people, though most are already asleep. There is no such thing as the winds of change; change simply happens when it is least expected and least desired.

A mouse tiptoes against marble floors, silent as ever. Years of hunting to survive have taught her the habit, even if the need for discretion has long vanished. This is her home and these are her people. She has nothing to hide. (Oh, but who said she is hiding?) The smile that spreads on her face is wicked as she circles her prey, settled in the foyer, looking pensively into the fire. The bond between them remains firmly shut, an important part of her game, and the rest of her family has been ordered to bed in hopes of avoiding an… unwanted spectacle.

Rhysand looks as handsome as ever, if not more tonight. He stands tall and confident, broad shoulders in a dark suit that seems to drink up the dance of the flame. Feyre yearns for him—her love, her male, her mate. She creeps closer and closer, until she can wrap her arms around his waist. She has to stand on her toes to kiss his neck, nuzzle the fine hairs there and breathe in the scent of him. Crisp, cool, like the evening breeze. 

“You seem different today, I like it.”

Rhys always finds a way to take her breath away. The house rattles with the impact of Feyre's body against its walls and she sobs.

“Do not touch me,” he clips.

Rhys always takes her breath away, and he would, had he been the one here.

One by one, the Inner Circle of the Night Court appears. First are the three Illyrians, two of which are armed to the teeth. Their armour and weapons are familiar—discarded iterations of better inventions that this realm never did see. Their battle stance implies that they are trained, but not enough. Not for the villain they face now. 

“Let her go.” The very shadows warble around them as Rhysand makes his demands and utters his threat. “Or I will tear your throat out.”

Johan’s icy gaze slithers from the pseudo-Fae to the false prince. His face remains handsomely impassive.

“Oh, would you? I’d rather like that.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that betrays the rest of him. His tone is dead, like his soul at this very meeting. Is this all they are? The famed Night Court? Children, all of them.

The High Lord of the Night Court moves. Probably to save his mate. The second he starts, Johan squeezes harder. Feyre’s head turns red, then a little purple with suffocation. Her eyes bulge a pretty hazel. It is still a struggle, after all this time, for him to piece together recognition in the form of faces. He can scent the anger, the soaps they use to clean themselves and even the nature of their magic, but he cannot—will never—see them.

Threat of his mate’s death is enough to stop Rhysand in his tracks. The other two had started to circle him and they mirror the movement of their lord. While the demonstration of reason is reassuring, the clear weakness is disappointing. Johan squeezes a bit more, each increment with the end goal of snapping her neck and watching the life blink out of her. An unsatisfying end, but there are many of them here and he has many questions. One answer for one life, that should do. The first murder is always meant to send a message.

“Hanni?”

Amren enters the room, her voice so soft, it’s unrecognizable to the Illyrians she’s known for years. The way she looks at the stranger makes her seem much younger than her fifteen thousand years; it’s the longing that fills her expression, shattering every knowledge they’ve had of their friend. (Did they ever really know her? A creature this old and devastating?) She spares no glance at the violence against her friend, only bolting towards Johan to tackle him in a tight hug. He remains unmoved.

“I have missed you.” Her eyes wrench shut as she holds him. Not even the sound of Feyre hitting the ground and her friends darting to care for the once-human High Lady will take this moment from her. “You’re back.”

Johan’s hand rests in her hair, jet black to mirror his. (And their eyes, brighter than any stars in the Continent’s skies.) The touch is awkward. Stunted. “I am.” He says, flatly.

“You know this asshole?” Cassian whines.

When she pulls back, Amren puts little distance between herself and the visitor. “Yes, he is my brother.”

“Your brother?” Cassian sputters, choking on his own saliva. The room stills, every soul in it staring at their ancient friend who only ever hints at her past. The thought that Amren, a creature just barely contained in her flesh, could have family is beyond them. The younglings swallow audibly. They are afraid.

They should be.

Rhysand stands while Morrigan tends to the High Lady of Velaris, a boy defending his territory. “Tell your brother he is in my house and he will not lay a hand on my mate.”

How could you mistake him for me, his voice echoes down the bond and into… nothing?

“So long as I am here, all bargains are off,” Johan drawls. Even the ones made with the heart and the soul. Something he said must be amusing because he can feel Amren’s amusement bubbling up beside him, despite her mimicking his impassive expression. 

The rest of the children in the room are of mild interest to him, part of a task. Nothing less, nothing more. Tilting his head, he inspects Amren. He towers over her, both in stature and demeanour. If she was cold, then he is the ice that drew the world to a standstill. If she is distant, then he is the yawning crevasse between humanity, faeries and whatever they are supposed to be.

A metal finger slides beneath her chin, tipping it upwards towards him. His lips part to speak to her, but before he can get a word out, a wheezing useless sound interrupts him.

“What does that mean,” Feyre breathes, struggling to her feet. It would have been a better show of strength, had she not needed two people to keep her standing. “What… happened to the bond? Amren?” She looks to her friend, expecting their relationship to sway the situation in their favour how it always has.

Amren rolls her silver eyes towards Feyre, then back to Johan. “These are my friends.” She chooses her words carefully. For they all have been through together, the being before her would not understand the notion of family. Not with these people.

Johan’s handsome features twist into a brief scowl, but he smooths his expression just as suddenly. Her relationships mean nothing to him. They are infinitesimal before Amren, even smaller compared to himself. It is only out of affection for Amren that he does not flay the once-human. He does not bother with answering her question, he owes her nothing.

“What are you doing here, little one?” He finally asks, gleaming the answers from the cosmos in her eyes. “This is not your home.”

From the outskirts of the room, Amren’s friends flinch. Velaris had been her home. For now.

“I was trapped in this realm when you all left.”

A frown mars Johan’s features, no matter how slight. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against hers. She does not need to say it for him to understand. Left behind. He mourns the injustice in his own way. “Do you wish to return home?”

It’s not a question she can answer now, not without betraying one (or both) of her families. Amren steps back, schooling her emotions into their usual iron. Johan’s gaze follows her with the same attention a predator would offer his prey. One wrong step and he could have her between his teeth. All this time, she wrought fear to all the Fae around her—a bedtime story to keep them in line—but she is nothing compared to her brothers. (If Johan is here, then the Other must be, too, wreaking havoc across the continent.)

“Why are you here?” She speaks on behalf of their house.

You know why.

“Speak it, so that we all may hear.” The order is bold, a risk she has weighed out. Her friends stand at the ready; she’s still on their side and they trust her.

Johan surveys the cast before him, properly this time. There is Amren, standing in a new light by allying herself with children playing politics and heroics. The High Lord shares a handful of similarities to Johan, calling back to the origins of his line and his Court, but still only a shadow of its former glory. He is pleased to see the way Illyrians have developed. Still strong in build and character, with no visible adversity to techno-magic (despite its archaic shape). His gaze lingers on Azrael. Not his face, never the face, but the whole of him. The fae’s magic whispers to him—shadowsinger—and Johan’s nostrils flare in the only visible tell of amusement. This will need to be revisited. There is the female fae who is of no discernible interest to him and lastly, the High Lady who’s stature as fae decreases with every waking moment.

“This world is corrupt. I am here to return it as it should be.” Simple as that. “Your bond is no longer and so is your Making. Neither were earned, but if you are truly worthy, I am sure you will be able to gain one of those back.”

Shadows warble around the room as the High Lord winnows across the room, dagger in hand. He aims right for Johan's heart. Metal clangs loudly as the blade’s tip collides with Johan’s false hand. His other one slides behind the High Lord’s neck to pull him close. “Anything you can do, I can do better.” Johan purrs.

Rhysand would not be the ‘strongest of all High Lords’ if he did not have a vast arsenal of weaponry to use against any assailant. (In the background, Feyre tries to help, but stumbles when she comes to the sudden realization that she is no longer High Fae.) He barrels into Johan’s mind with the ease of daemati, and the mistake is his. Johan puts up no shields, welcoming him into the chaos of his mind. 

“Rhys, no!” Amren shouts, but it is too late.

Johan’s mind is—

A wasteland made of shadows. Light withers in his presence, basking him in primal darkness. Fear in its purest form lives in him, surrounded by the souls of the dead. (Failed experiments, blood on his hands and ghosts beyond even his explanation.) They haunt him endlessly, robbing him of the ability to connect with the living. (He is one of them and they will never let him go.) 

Rhysand claws at his face, fighting invisible monsters after spending a whole second inside the mind of an ancient demon. His eyes roll to the back of his head, body hitting the marble floors and seizing violently.

“What did you do to him?!” Feyre shrieks, crawling over to her mate and cradling him.

Nothing. Nothing was done to him, but the answer seems so obvious, it’s not worth speaking. What happened to Rhysand is a product of his own making. What point is there to all the power if he does not know how to wield it? Power pales in comparison to pure skill, and skill is nothing without the intelligence to know when and how to apply it. Johan simply tilts his head questioningly and looks down at the famed couple.

Cassian steps forward, ready to avenge his master, but the shadowsinger rests a hand on his shoulder, halting the thought with a shake of his head. Johan watches Azrael for a long moment.

Good boy, he presses into his mind. The thought is made of warmth and velvet. It slithers down Azrael’s spine and curls in his belly. The Illyrian flinches, glancing away from the invader. “What does that entail? Returning the world as it should be?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“What could—” Azrael’s question fades to nothing. Whatever he was going to ask, there’s no point. The man—the being—or whatever he was is already gone, clearly uninterested in entertaining their curiosity (and their fear).

Wisps of black smoke dance across the room as Amren is slammed into the wall. Johan manifests himself. “That is the last time you will question me on behalf of your mortals.” Her breath hiccups in her throat.

With that final word, he vanishes to finish his investigation of what this world has become.

[fandomgoesahhhhhhhhh]

Sweet!! I wasn’t sure which character you write for but I’m leaning towards redson from lmk ( love me a tsundere ) who has a fem partner who’s very shy yet cuddly and wants affection from him since he’s busy with his machines but of course this is making the fire prince flustered since he’s never seen her that way and it gets worse when she says with a cute sad doe eyes “ please kiss me ” and boom. The rest is up to you! Hopefully this was okay!

(A Red simp. Lol, I got you)

Lego Monkie Kid/LMK x Reader Headcanon

🔥A Fire Passion🔥

He love you, he really does. He just doesn’t know how to show it or SAY it in that matter. He love how kind yet shy you can be..and would get all flustered when you try to get his attention..though he tries acting like he doesn’t noticed. Key word:TRIES.

You love giving him affection yet he’s so confuse on why. Why you’re so addicted on giving him so much love and attention. He doesn’t mind it though, in fact, he love it. They’re just a confusing demon, but that doesn’t stop you from surprising them.

One time, you went to her lab when they were working and you just hug him. They were blushing like a madman and looks at you before you just say “kiss me”..at this point. Redson was just a flustered mess and just stop working.

He’s 100% flustered and malfunction by everything. She NEVER see you like this way before and wanna know what’s going on. You would kisses their cheek and that would be enough for them to just stand there and blushes.

None of you do PDA, due to you being shy and him not being used to affection, but once you two are in a private area, you will shower him with love and affection and he is all for it. He’s flustered to beware for cuteness.

(Sorry if it’s not much. I’m at work and I barely slept so I wanna get this done before the day ends)

[luci-is-a-bitch-x3x]

Obey Me! Characters go to a haunted corn maze!

(Execpt for Raphel, Thirteen, and Mephistopheles)

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Welcome! More Halloween Content even though Halloween passed! Sorry I just couldn't post it in time! Also srry its a little long! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

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In the Devildom Halloween festives rave on, and a new haunted corn maze arises! It was probably Diavolo or Mc who suggested everyone does the maze. Some participants didnt want to go, Mammon and Luke, but who can say no to the Devildom's Prince and Mc? Since it is the Devildom, the haunted maze does say it could be dangerous, and that some of the scares are real, however the maze promises to not kill or give a deadly curse to any customers. The maze states you might end up with a simple curse if you break any rules. The maze has a rule that only two people can go into the maze together at a time, obviously everyone fought over who got to go with Mc. Other rules for the maze are the usual rules, no stealing, no cheating, no hurting scare creatures, no breaking or damaging maze property, ext. The mazes appearance is quiet frightening, just the sight of it has Mammon and Luke shaking in their boots. Since the maze only allows groups of two Mc pairs up with...

Choose based on how they act in the maze!

Diavolo is bubbly and excited, he's excited that Mc choose to be his partner in the maze and he's excited to participate at the haunted maze. Diavolo doesn't jump at any jumpscares he just laughs and says something about enjoying that scare. If Mc gets scared Diavolo won't tease them, he may laugh lightly but he will happily pull Mc into his side to protect them. Trust him Mc, nothing can hurt you with the Prince of Devildom by your side. Diavolo may talk to the monsters who are acting as scare actors after they scare him and Mc. He'll praise the actors on their scares and just have a friendly chat with them. The maze experience with Diavolo may be longer than its supposed to be, due to his friendly nature, but it makes things very fun, and light-hearted. Overall its a great experience to do the maze with Diavolo. Diavolo doesn't get cursed from the maze because he doesn't do anything wrong. At the end of the maze when a ghost on a stick pops out Diavolo is delighted by such a simple scare! He even tries to talk Barbatos into putting a ghost on a stick somewhere in the castle, no matter how much he begged and whined Barbatos never gave in. Diavolo actually had Mc help him make his own ghost on a stick, Diavolo put it up somewhere in the castle "without" Barbatos knowing. This lasted for like 5 minutes, Barbatos took it down very soon after it was put up. This exchange kept happening for about a month before Barbatos just gave up and left the ghost on a stick up. There's now a ghost on a stick in a random hallway in the castle so beware if you get lost, you might just encounter a silly jumpscare.

Barbatos is his usual self. You won't catch this man breaking a sweat at all, no flinching, no eye blink in suprise, no reactions at all, none of fear or suprise or any emotions at all really. Barbatos won't tease Mc, he won't laugh at them, if anything he'll tell them it's alright to get startled. Barbatos is the perfect gentleman, he'll tuck Mc into his side to protect them from the scares, he'll counsel Mc when they get scared, if Mc wants to cling onto him the entire time he's letting them. Barbs can see the future so he might even know when the scares are coming, if he does he may subtly show Mc through squeezing their hand gently or pulling them a little closer to his side. If Barbatos doesn't know when the jumpscares will be, he still won't react. Barbatos will let Mc take the maze at their own pace, if Mc wants to enjoy the maze he doesn't want to rush them, and if Mc is scared and wants out of the maze as fast as possible, that's fine too, as a highly respected butler he's used to being quick on his feet anyways. Barbatos does not get cursed by the maze, hes to well behaved, he can't shame the young masters name. Barbatos finds the ghost on a stick at the end of the maze, as immature and silly, he doesn't show any reaction, but he may comment on how its his least favorite scare within the maze. He apprectiates the art behind it but its just not his cup of tea.

Lucifer is calm and collected like always, he may even tease Mc if they act scared. All the way up until the end of the maze Lucifer doesn't flinch at a single scare. The scares range in all kinds, the maze has real zombies, ghosts, whatever monster you can think of there is, but the maze also has fake pop ups or demons with costumes on, so its never clear what scare you're going to get. He just chuckles if Mc jumps at any scares, he'll let Mc hide behind him or hold his arm if their scared. He may even comment on the scares in between scares, talking about the quality of the scares and how he would have done it differently. At the very end of the maze Lucider and Mc are chatting about the maze and Lucifer gets lost in the coversation, he was just enjoying Mc's smile and laugh. Suddenly a fake ghost on a stick popped out and scared Lucifer, he was in his demon form in an instant. Everything happened just as fast as that, Lucifer drug Mc to his body with his wings so he could protect them, at the same time Lucifer punched through the ghost on the stick, efficiently breaking it. As soon as it dawned on Lucifer what he did he cleared his throat, turned back into his human form and muttered something to Mc about 'speaking of this to no one' before he began to walk off. Lucifer broke the rules to the maze, he damage property, so he found out quickly that he was cursed to trip every 3 steps. Due to the Anti-Lucifer League (I called them a squad before lmao my bad) cursing Lucifer often, he had experienced this curse before. Lucifer was able to get used to it quickly and was able to walk almost as if he wasn't cursed at all.

Mammon is loosing his marbles before he even enters the haunted maze. Mammon calms down a little and is all happy and blushy when Mc chooses him as their partner for the maze. Mammon tries to be all brave and act all tough just for Mc. The poor tsundere doesn't even wait until the first scare in the maze to cling onto Mc out of fear. He's the type to he clinging onto Mc out of fear and still be telling Mc that they are the scared one and that he's protecting them. If Mc gets scared thats okay hes scared too even though Mc will never catch him saying that. Mammon would ditch Mc if he absolutely had to, but most likely Mc will just be dragged around by Mammon as he runs around wildly in fear. Mammon does get cursed by the maze, halfway through the maze Mc anx Mammon find a "treasure chest" when Mammon opened it, the was a bunch of "gold" coins inside. Mc warned Mammon to not take any but he didn't listen, Mammon takes a couple of coins but as soon as he does they disenegrate into a dark goo. Mammon whines that he thought they were real and goes to continue the maze with Mc. Mammon doesn't realize why he's tripping every 3 steps until someone tells him that he was cursed by the maze for trying to steal. Mams is upset when he finds out he's cursed but like what can he do about it you know? He just whines and complains until the curse wears off. At the end of the maze, when the ghost on a stick pops out Mammon practically jumps over it trying to run away, Mammon drags Mc out of the maze by the hand and then acts like he wasn't scared at all. He'll deny all claims anyone makes even if Mc says he got scared, if Mc tells everyone they are proud, that he was brave and always saving them, Mammon will be over the moon and brag for days, weeks, maybe even months.

Leviathan, handles horror alright. He plays horror games he watches horror movies and animes, so he's used to scary things in that form, however Levi doesn't leave his room often, so sometimes he cinds the outside world to be overwhelming and scary itself. Levi is glad to have Mc as his partner for the maze, Mc always knows what to do and say and how to help him. If Mc gets scared by the maze Levi is not going to tease them, Mc never teases him so why would he tease them? Besides getting scared is a part of the horror experience! Levi didn't think he'd protect Mc, he had a lot of self doubting over that, but he protects Mc like a pro! He holds Mc if they want him to, he'll push Mc behind himself or pull them into his side, if Levi gets scared he may pull Mc away from the scare but he would never straight up ditch Mc. Levi does get scared by a couple of the scares in the maze, one of those times wasn't even supposed to be scary. It was just some random demon asking if Mc and him knew which way to go. Levi does not get cursed, he's rather well behaved during his experience in the maze. He's just focused on hanging out with Mc and having fun doing the maze. By the time Mc and him get to the end of the maze they are laughing and chatting about what they'll do back at HoL. When the ghost on the stick pops out Levi gets so startled that he turns into his demon form, Levi holds Mc to his side, slightly hiding them behind his body, he bares his fabgs at the "threat" and his tail wraps around Mc as if to protect them. When he realizes its just a ghost on a stick he's a flustered embarrassed boy. All his flusteredness gets worse if Mc praises him as their hero, however he is really happy to be their hero.

Satan loves himself a good horror experience. It can be a movie, book, haunted maze it doesn't matter he enjoys it. He apprectiates the art behind each scare, pranks and scares are somewhat similar, and he's always pranking Lucifer. Satan may tease Mc over being scared by the maze depending on how he's feeling. Most likely he'll use the maze as a romantic situation, he'll be the perfect gentleman and play the part of protector well. Satan will hold Mc close and gladly put himself in between Mc and the "danger". Satan may take notes from some of the scares, talkingto Mc about using the scares on Lucifer. Satan may also somehow find some scare creature that he talks to for awhile, he'll tell Mc that their his acquaintance and then he'll tell some crazy story on how he met them. Somehow even though Satan is perfectly behave, he winds up cursed. He's not upset over being cursed he's upset that his brothers will say something and probably try and make fun of him for it. Satan caught on pretty quick and was able to walk almost as if he wasn't cursed. By the time Mc and Satan get to the end of the maze neither one of them is paying attention to the maze, their both chatting about some book or how Satan should pull the scares off. When the ghost on a stick pops out Satan is suprised, but he pulls it off rather well. Satan will have pulled Mc into his side to protect them and he might even switch into his demon form on accident. Satan will blush and turn back to his human form when he realizes its just a ghost on a stick. Satan doesn't want Mc telling anyone, but he's not as prideful as Lucifer is about it. If Mc teases him or makes jokes Satan will laugh along and tease Mc over anything they got scared by.

Asmodeus can handle horror okay. Asmo isnt the biggest fan of horror, but he's not as much of a scaredy cat as Mammon is. Asmo isn't much of a gore lover but he does enjoy some psychological horror. Haunted mazes may not be Asmo's first choice in Halloween activities, but he can see the appeal to them. This is the perfect excuse to be all over your partner! Asmo understands the romantic aspect of the maze, he is fine with being the damsel in distress or being the hero, as long as he gets to be all close and cuddly with Mc he won't care. Asmo may tease Mc for getting scared but its not in the same way his brothers would, Asmo does it in a romantic-ish type of way. Does Asmo protect Mc from scares, kinda. Does Asmo also need protected from scares, kinda. It just depends on the scare and how Asmo is feeling. If Asmo is protecting Mc he'll pull them into his side and stand between them and the scare. If Asmo gets scared homself, then he basically jumps into Mc's arms as he screams dramatically and clings onto Mc for life. Asmo gets scared mostly by the real scares, the ones done by scare creatures, but a few fake scares get him as well. Asmo does not get cursed by the maze, he's rather well behaved, and spends most of the maze experience clinging to Mc. By the time Asmo and Mc get to the end of the maze they are both ready to get out. Asmo is complaining about his apperance and how he needs to fix it, Mc's just here for the ride at this point. Wink Wink. When the ghost on a stick pops out Asmo screeches and is all over Mc, after realizing its just a ghost on a stick Asmo calms down, he isn't really embarrassed and him and Mc just laugh it off as they finally leave the maze.

Beelzebub handles horror pretty well, he doesn't freak out but he can get scared. Its more of like a suprised face and maybe a little back step, he just doesn't really freak out over getting scared by something. He's a large boi mans can eat or fight whatever he needs to. Beel is not going to tease Mc over getting scared, he is not like his brothers, specifically his twin, he's sweet baby. Beel is an amazing partner to pick for the maze, as long as he doesnt get hungry during the maze. Beel will protect Mc no matter what the scare is, it can be a real scare a fake scare it doesn't matter, he needs to keep Mc safe. He'll put himself in between Mc and the scare, let Mc cling onto him or whatever they need to do to feel safe. Beel does get scared a couple of times but he still makes sure to protect Mc. Beel does end up getting cursed, poor guy got hungry, he accidently ate part of the maze. Mc and him had walked up to a witchs hut thing, and he ate the fake apples from the cauldron. He definitely has to be told by someone that he got cursed and thats why he keeps tripping every third step. He is sad puppy, feels ashamed and will apologize to everyone. By the time Mc and Beel get to the end of the maze, Beel is hungry again, Mc will have to try and get him to wait a little longer. Mc probably has to talk about a random subject trying to distract him when the ghost on a stick pops out, Beel somehow resists eating it and he gets headpats from Mc before they leave the maze.

Belphegor likes horror if he can stay awake for it. This man teams up with Satan all the time to cause chaos for Lucifer, so he loves the idea of learning some new scare tactics. Belphie teases the hell out of Mc if they get scared, he's a brat like that. He'll make this big deal out of it all too, like even if Mc only gets scared once he still isn't gonna let it go for awhile. Belphie can be a good maze partner but he can also be a menace, it just depends on what mood he's in. He'd never actually cause harm but he might do things like; jokingly push Mc towards the scare, "disappear" and freak Mc out, or try some of his scares on Mc. If Belphie is feeling nice or winds up feeling scared he'll stay by Mc's side and be a slight protector. Mc can cling onto him or hide behind him, he may wrap his arm around them but he's lazy and he knows its not an actual danger usually. Belphie doesn't really get scared but once he starts getting tired he becomes easier to scare so the scares start to get him towards the end of the maze. Belphie doesn't get cursed for breaking the rules, he's to tired to do anything other than cling to Mc's side. When the ghost on a stick pops out at the end of the maze, Belphie does get a little frightened, he goes into protectir mood. Belphie switches into his demon form and acts all intimidating. When he realizes its just a ghost on a stick he may be a little embarrassed. If Mc tries to tease him, he'll just brush it off and get sassy, he protecyed them after all so why is Mc veing all sassy?? Mans is def confused and upset, he thought he'd get cuddles and kisses.

Solomon is pretty good at handling horror, once you've lived as long as him fake horrors are nothing compared to what you've lived through. Solomon is a prankster and loves learning new scares and tricks, he definitely takes notes and appreciates the scares. Solomon teases the hell out of Mc if they get scared, Solomon just finds it so funny! Solomon is a decent maze partner depending on his and Mc's moods, Solomon is a chaos enticing man, so he'll mostly be chaotic, teasing, and boderline insane. However if Mc starts to get tired of his antics or starts getting seriously scared, he will start acting better. He wont tease them as much and he'll assure them he's there to protect them if danger arises. Solomon may be a chaos causing old man but he still cares for Mc, he'll gladly protect them if thats what they want. Though he believes his apprentice can help themselves. Solomon doesn't get that scared by the scares, he mostly just laughs at the scares but there may be one moment where he steps back in suprise, thats the most reaction they'll get from him though. Solomon does break the rules, but he somehow doesn't get cursed?? Solomon says its because of all the magical wards he has placed to protect himself but who knows if thats actually why he doesn't get cursed. Maybe he really does get cursed and just plays it off well enough, Mc will never know either way. Solomon finds the ghost on a stick at the end of the maze to be hilarious, he thinks its delightful! Such a simple scare but one that's bound to make at least one person jump. Solomon tries to figure out how he can make it better eith magic but he ultamitely decides its good on its own. It was either that or for fireworks to go off when the ghost popped out to scare people, the orginal design seemed much safer.

Simeon says in game that he doesn't really get startled by jumpscares. He handles horror pretty well, and enjoys the experience the maze provides. Scary things may not be his first choice, but he can handle them and he does enjoy experiencing new things. He probably wont tease Mc for getting scared, if he did it wouldnt be mean teasing, itd be very light barely considered teasing. He just doesn't want to make Mc feel bad, their a human in an Devildom Hunated Maze, its completely understandable to be scared. Simeon is such a good maze partner, its in his nature to protect others, especially humans, so he is always putting himself in between Mc and the scares. He'll let Mc cling to his arm and he'll pull them out of the way of any "danger" during the maze experience. Simeon doesnt get scared often however theres probably one scare that makes him blink in suprise and step back, its probably something he shouldn't even be scared of too, he's definitely embarrassed if it is. Simeom does not get cursed, he is to well behaved, the only way this man is getting cursed is if he messes with technology, but thankfully theres no technology in the maze! By the time Simeon and Mc get to the end of the maze their both chatting about their favorite scare, when the ghost on a stick pops out Simeon gets slightly startled but plays it off with a laugh and smile. Simeon found the ghost on a stick to be cute and it was one of his favorites.

Luke (platonic ofc) Luke is scared before even entering the maze, he's definitely giving Mammon a run on his money when it comes to being the scaredy cat of the group. Luke tries to act brave for Mc but the boy is very anxious and scared. Pls hold his hand. Luke is not going to tease Mc if they get scared, he's to nice for that. If Mc teases Luke for being scared they'll have an angry angel on their hands. Luke will try and protect Mc from the scares, he'll hold their hand or arm and "direct" them away from the danger. He's pulling as hard as he can as he runs away full speed. Luke is scared by basically all the scares, theres a few moments where hes calm but he's mostly panicking out of fear. Luke doesn't get cursed, he is well behaved and follows all of the rules. He is probably the one that read the sign where the rules were, even when panicking he'll remeber the rules and scream them out to Mc. By the time Luke and Mc get to the end of the maze, Luke is basically clinging onto Mc out of fear. When the ghost on a stick pops out luke gets scared, he tries to pull Mc away from it but Mc points it out to him. Luke is embarrassed that he got scared by a scare so silly, Luke doesn't like the ghost on a stick, probably because he got scared by it.

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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! My posts have been everywhere recently and so has my writing but hey content! More stuff is coming so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Spooky! ‹𝟹

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⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

[alittlelela-blog]

How I think dating the Fontaine siblings would be like (SFW):

Lyney

• he is a magician, and wouldn’t hesitate to pull little tricks for you like taking a rose out of his hat

• He’d be very romantic and treat you like a literal princess/prince

• He’ll have you close to him in public to ensure everyone knows that you are his

• Makes Small, cute gestures towards you during his shows when you go to watch him

• During your free time he will dance with you on his stage when no one is around

• He’ll let you borrow his hat from time to time and can’t get over how cute you look in it

Lynette

• She’d talk more than usual, but loves to listen to you

• Will gently hold your hand in public, like a soft hold

• You’ll go on dates at coffee shops

• She’ll snuggle close to you like a cat when you cuddle

• She is so adorable.. you’ll find yourself lost in her eyes often

•Beware of Lyney though… he’s very protective of his sister

• No funny business because of him… like.. he’ll pounce on you in a heartbeat

Freminet

• He’s very shy and new to relationships so he’ll blush a lot

• Scared he’ll do something wrong so he hesitates often

• You’ll go on swimming and diving dates

• He’ll hold your hand while diving so he doesn’t lose you

• He’ll show you his little robot penguin every now and then and sometimes will use him to talk to you when he’s too shy

• Your first kiss would be while you were diving, super adorable

[gerec]

could you rec the bests space AU?

The X-Men fandom is absolutely a goldmine for amazing aus, and space aus are some of the best on offer! There are so many great ones that I have to split this into 2 parts, Anon - hope you enjoy:

SPACE AUS - PART 1

Space Jam by Pangea (series)

Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they've been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It's alright, though, he'll cope.

It doesn't help, though, that he's in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity, Pangea

Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he's settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive.

A Curious Carriage of Crystal and Cold by Etharei

Charles, a miner from a poor village in the countryside, saves the life of Erik Lehnsherr, scion of a successful business family and the richest man on the planet Eisen. Charles is a telepath and somewhat anxious about it, while Erik abstains from relationships because the lights flicker and doors open and electronics vibrate when he gets too excited.

Also featuring a long-suffering sister, a foul-mouthed bodyguard, and a best friend with a heart that is definitely not gold.

In which there are princes, spaceships, long journeys, and old secrets uncovered. (An AU sci-fi fairytale)

The Trouble with Telepaths by endingthemes

“Are you shy about me meeting your family?” Erik asks with a huge smile. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s not funny,” Charles says, his hands firmly planted on his hips, and it’s honestly hilarious so Erik laughs right in his face.

(Or a Star Trek AU in which Captain Erik Lehnsherr pays a visit to First Officer Charles Xavier's home planet and encounters a few surprises.)

To Rattle the Stars by GQD, Pangea

All his life Charles has chafed at the bonds of gravity that hold him bound to tiny and backwater Montressor, more at home in the sky on his solar surfer than on the ground, where he's stuck working at his stepfather's inn. His heart and soul yearn for the stars, and it's his dream to one day be a spacer and sail across the cosmos on adventure.

The opportunity comes sooner than he ever imagined one night when a ship crash-lands on the inn's front doorstep, carrying a dying pirate with a mysterious map and a dire warning: beware the cyborg.

[A Disney's Treasure Planet AU]

From Rim Space With Love by manic_intent

"Captain Logan! Captain Logan!"

The skinny cadet skitters to a halt next to Logan in the rec room, red-faced and a little out of breath. Logan eyes him with a faint frown, sunk deep into a stimm couch, thumbing up the rim of his captain's hat. He's just come off a torturous fifteen-hour shift, and healing factor or not, Logan's starting to feel it. Warp space is hell on his nerves.

"Settle down, bub. What burned your tail... eh..." Logan concentrates briefly. "Cadet McCoy? Hey. Your blue's showing. Settle down."

McCoy takes in several deep breaths, and the blue fur starting to thread out of his skin sinks back in. "Sir, yes sir. Message from X-Command, sir."

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours by madneto, Pangea

Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

Programming by TurtleTotem

Erik is not programmed to feel affection. There's no logical reason for Charles's death to affect him like this. ((Inspired by certain elements of Prometheus, but not a direct crossover.))

Fallen from the Stars by madmalina

Erik’s only purpose in life is to find and kill the man who had his parents executed—Sebastian Shaw, Captain of the Emperor’s fleet. When Erik gets assigned to a job under Shaw’s command—on the spaceship supposed to take the Crown Prince across the galaxy—he’s sure he’s closer to fulfilling his destiny than he has ever been before.

Charles is apprehensively awaiting the day of his twenty-fifth birthday, when he’ll be crowned Emperor, because not only does he have high doubts about his own suitability for the job, he fears the crushing responsibilities it will bring, and ultimately wants nothing more than to live a quiet and peaceful life.

However, the trip across the planets of Charles’ future Empire turns out differently than they both expected, shedding light on intrigues reaching back decades into the past, and forcing both men to put their lives into each other’s hands, even though their differences are seemingly infinite.

 To Catch a Thief by lachatblanche

Charles Xavier, heir to the Xavier Corp billlions, is a wealthy, carefree socialite by day, and a skilled and renowned catburglar by night.

It was, he supposes, inevitable that someday someone would find this out.

fly me to the moon (To Catch a Thief Remix) by ikeracity 

Charles is a wealthy noble who moonlights as notorious intergalactic art thief X in his spare time. Erik is the bounty hunter hot on his tail (who also happens to have a massive crush on him). A fateful encounter on the luxury resort moon Prioria changes things between them forever.

Stardust by JackyJango

When Charles Xavier, Erik's long-suffering-total opposite- best friend gets dumped by his boyfriend, Erik makes a pact with him, that he'll marry Charles if he's still single even after a decade.

I, Charles Francis Xavier, agree to marry Erik Magnus Lehnsherr if I'm not otherwise married or in a committed relationship as of ten years from today, star-dated- 2020:08:007

Nearly a decade later, Erik will do anything to see Charles with a man who's worthy of him.

Some Forgotten Corner of the Universe by Black_Betty

Erik remembers the boy he met on Osiris. Charles is no longer that boy, but that doesn't mean Erik loves him any less...

Ghost in the Shell by MonstrousRegiment

Out in the black of space, where the only creatures whose company you can always count on are violence and death, making a living is a wager. Erik’s crew of mismatched social misfits scrapes by, toeing the line between law and crime. Normally, they prefer to stay out of the Alliance’s way, but when it comes to defending the very freedom they fought for a decade ago, they only follow one principle: when someone tries to kill you, you kill them right back.

The Persistent Traveller by candycandy (telltail_heart) 

Erik is the Chief of Engineering aboard the starship Poseidon, where he’s spent the last 10 years of his life dedicated to his job above all other desires. That is until he receives his newest crew member, Lieutenant Commander Charles Xavier, who proves to be more persistent than a black hole at getting what he wants, which to Erik’s utter confusion appears to be him...

SPACE AUS - PART 2

[kissingghouls]

LET'S TALK ABOUT THE PRINCE

A LITTLE PREVIEW AND TAG LIST UPDATE.

💜 Hello beloveds, how are you? It's been a very long time since you've heard from our crop-top wearing himbo vampire, but I am happy to say you won't be waiting much longer.

💜 If you would like to join the new tag list for part five please leave a comment below.

💜 Catch up with The Prince on ao3 or on tumblr - One // Two // Three // Four (18+, MDNI)

💜Or if you wanna start from the beginning check out The Count (vampire!Copia) and The King (vampire!Secondo) (18+, MDNI)

💜 Thank you all so SO much for all your support and encouragement over the last year. I love you all ✨🦇

Below is a little taste of The Prince - Part Five. Beware of spoilers!

“Did you sleep well, piccolina?”

Primo’s deep voice carried from the far side of the kitchen barely audible over the rumble of thunder outside. It was somewhere between morning and afternoon, though the storm made it difficult to tell one from the other. Heavy rain pelted the outside of the cottage in a steady thrum in time with the howling winds. You used to find this type of scene so comforting but watching water bead and trail down the windows just seemed to make you anxious now. Sitting across the room and trying to make small talk with Primo Emeritus didn’t seem to help either. As kind and inviting as he was, he was still a complete stranger. An immortal stranger with superhuman strength you were supposed to stay far away from. Instead, he’d insisted on baking cookies for you.

Shaking your head, you jolted a little as the kettle began to scream from its spot of the stovetop. Sleep had been the furthest thing from your mind after Terzo’s spell. A full night’s rest would have been a dream, but there was no getting comfortable in this situation. How long could you be safe here in the middle of nowhere? How long would they wait this time?

“Primo, can I ask you something?” You wondered aloud, hoping the impending conversation would drown out the sound of the storm and your own thoughts.

He inclined his head, silently urging you to continue. A loose piece of his long, white-blond hair fell over the painted lines of his face as he moved; the rest was carefully tied back with a thin black ribbon. His focus remained on the pale green kettle in his hand as he transferred water into a dainty teapot at the edge of the counter. He moved with such precision, yet still maintained some impossibly delicate grace—the opposite of the way Terzo carried himself. There were other differences—far more than you could count—but where Terzo’s softness was an edge blunted by time, Primo’s seemed to be gently blurred into everything he did.

A flash of lightning filled the kitchen with bright light, the bank of windows on the eastern wall providing the perfect vantage point. You shuddered as thunder followed, too close and too loud for your own comfort. The storm blew a gentle breeze through the cracked windows and the ceiling fan above dragged it further in as it spun in lazy, lopsided circles. The kitchen smelled of florals and tea and rain, feeling like a Sunday afternoon you shouldn’t have access to. Everything was a little too dreamy, made fuzzy by a filter tinged with warm yellow-green like a flashback to someone else’s nostalgic past.

Someone else’s life. 

“Why settle in this place?” you asked, vividly recalling the cracked asphalt and sun-bleached everything you’d passed on your way through town. “Why…here? The secluded cottage makes sense, but why live at the edge of some abandoned nowhere town?”

He turned to look at you for a beat before reaching for two teacups. “Well,” he started as he dropped a teabag into the pot. “It wasn’t always abandoned, piccolina.”

He set a cup in front of you before joining you at the table, a sigh leaving his lips as the wooden chair creaked beneath him. “This town…it used to full of a unique vibrance that drew me in. I suppose on some level I grew comfortable here, much like the other remaining residents. But mostly I stayed for the work. That’s what I told myself anyway. I have no doubt that Terzo would have you believe otherwise, but immortality can be incredibly mundane. When I found myself in this little town, I watched it grow from nothing just like I had done with a thousand other little towns in my lifetime. But this one—it was easier to fight that feeling of boredom here, to find a purpose. I chose to put my energy toward something, to have a common goal with the people here while I could. There’s a darling botanical garden on the edge of town, built something like seventy years ago, give or take. I helped fund the project.”

“Really? So, it had nothing to do with the cute girl that delivers your groceries?” 

Black and white paint may have covered his entire face, but you could see Primo’s ears turn bright red. “That—she—hmph. She wasn’t even born yet. Neither were you for that matter.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not the reason you stay.”

“The garden—“

“Sure, sure,” you teased. “Work, work, work.”

“Don’t start picking up bad habits from your beau, piccolina,” he warned. “Youth is wasted on the young indeed.”

“Not if you have an eternity to do something about it.”

He laughed quietly as he poured the most delicious smelling pink tea into each cup. “I forgot how much I enjoy such a human point of view. What of you and your eternal boytoy, hmm? What will you do when this is all over?”

You shrugged, pausing to consider his words. “Haven’t really thought that far. I think…I think I’d like to do all the things I never could before. No matter what happens I can’t go back to my old life—I wouldn’t want to go back, knowing what I know now. If I have to build a new life, it might as well be a better one than before. And if that sounds good to Terzo, then I’m happy to try building it together.”

“Hmm,” he replied with a thoughtful nod and faint smile playing on his lips.

“Belleza, I am happy to build you anything you want. But boytoy? Is that really what you’ve settled on, fratello?” Terzo grumbled as he appeared in the doorway, half-asleep with pillow marks on his face. He dropped into the seat next to you with a heavy sigh and rested his head on your shoulder. “Is that really all I am to you?”

“No. Sometimes you’re more of manbaby,” you replied and kissed the top of his head. “It’s ok though.”

“Ugh, I am so glad you two are getting along,” he teased sarcastically. “You are a bad influence on her, Primo.”

“Me? What did I do?” Primo mused as he took a sip of tea.

“You encourage her—”

“Ah.”

“—to be mean to me,” he whined. “What happened to that wide-eyed naïve girl from before, hmm?”

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” you responded flatly.

“Ah, yes. What happened to the fierce and terrifying woman who pretended not to be watching me sleep every night?”

“She met an unbelievably arrogant vampire.”

He sat up and shot you a big, toothy grin. “Oh, bellezza, was I your first?”

Primo groaned loudly and pushed away from the table. “Whatever you’re trying to do fratellino, do not do it in my kitchen.”

“Ah, calm down old man. I’m only teasing.”

“You were the one I liked enough to save. Even with your baking skills.”

Primo nearly spat out his tea. “Oh, Terzo, tell me you didn’t.” “I was trying to do something nice for you, bellezza. But fine, fine. Let’s all pick on Terzo!” he grumbled as he stood. For a split-second the life left his eyes, the light within him dimming like a flickering lightbulb in a haunted basement. He was completely blank—jaw slack and body limp. Primo crossed the room before you could even think to react, rushing over to keep his brother’s body from collapsing to the floor.

more stuff by me // my ko-fi tip jar

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 3 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

Slytherin Twin — draco malfoy x male! slytherin! weasley! reader x harry potter

tws: umbridge’s blood quill, maybe like a pinch of homophobia?

i need more representation of slytherins who enjoy care of magical creatures goddamnit

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ronald Weasley.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Y/N Weasley.”

Oh, no. Minerva McGonagall does not get paid enough to deal with another set of Weasley twins.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Maybe I should retire, Minerva thinks faintly.

You don’t seem to mind at all that the Great Hall is dead silent as you skip towards the Slytherin table, your brothers watching in a mix of shock, fascination, resignation, and abject horror.

You plop down right next to Draco Malfoy, grinning widely at him before waving cheerily towards some of the older students who are struggling to hold back their unabashed glee.

“A Weasley in Slytherin? I thought your entire family was made up of idioticly naïve fools,” Malfoy sneers sharply, a look of contempt rising on his smug face.

“Draco Malfoy in Slytherin? How much did your family have to pay to ensure you got in?” you reply with a sweet smile on your face. The older students stare in awe at the Weasley who just left a Malfoy speechless.

Much to their surprise, however, Draco’s face broke out into a grin. “So you do belong here. Very well then, Weasley. Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Malfoy.”

~~~

“‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.’ What does that even mean?”

“D’you still think it’s about Potter?” you ask around a mouthful of toast. “Cause I think you might’ve been wrong ‘bout him, Dray.”

“Potter is a spoiled prat, Y/N. Just because he’s the Chosen One, he thinks he’s so special-”

“My brothers broke him out of his uncle’s house over the summer. They’d put bars on his window and starved him.”

Draco stops his tirade about Potter, looking positively bewildered. “What?”

~~~

As you were leaving the library, you bumped into Hermione Granger, your brother’s girlfriend friend.

“Sorry,” you mutter, continuing on your way. You don’t look back, so you never see the dawning look of realization once Granger unfolds the torn-out page you’d shoved into her hand.

~~~

Harry Potter opens the Gryffindor portrait at your hesitant knocking. “Oh- Y/N, right? Ron’s brother?”

You nod uncertainly. “Yeah, um… I just wanted to say that I’m real sorry about Buckbeak. Malfoy’s a git, you know.”

Harry nods slowly. “Yeah. Isn’t he like, your best friend though?”

“Like you’ve never thought of Ronnie as a git too, Potter.”

He grins and holds the portrait open for you. “Here- welcome to the common room, I guess.”

You look around, unimpressed. “My eyes are bleeding.”

Smoothing out your Slytherin sweater, you continue, “Like, this is almost as bad as Ron’s Chudley Cannons shrine-bedroom.”

A unfamiliar scowling face looks up from the couch, glaring daggers at you. “Oi, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be fawning over your Slytherin prince?”

“Hey, leave him alone, Finnegan!” Ron snaps, appearing at the bottom of the stairwell to his dorm. “I swear to Merlin, you are such a prat.”

Ignoring your brother, you raise your hands up in mock surrender, smiling patronizingly at Seamus. “Hey, no hard feelings, leprechaun. I’m just here to apologize on Dray’s behalf.”

“On Dray’s behalf,” Cormac McLaggen mocks in a high-pitched voice. “Oh, Dray!”

A few girls next to him titter with laughter.

“Malfoy your boyfriend or something, Weasley?” McLaggen spits your name like it were a curse.

“Oh, indeed,” you deadpan. “You’re invited to the wedding. Won’t you be my best man, please?”

“If you’re just here to make fun of us, maybe you ought’a leave,” Seamus butts in again.

“Whatever. Anyways, Potter, I found a couple of books in the library about the Ministry’s statutes, and I bookmarked a few pages about the fascinating Release of Liability contracts that Hogwarts students’ guardians have to sign at the beginning of every school year,” you look down at your nails, feigning disinterest. “But if you’re not interested, then I’ll be off. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

~~~

“Y/N, here,” Pansy Parkinson said with a look of poorly-contained glee, gently setting a pure white ferret into your hands. “It’s Draco’s, and you’re in charge of ferret-sitting for the foreseeable future. Have fun!”

Blaise just slowly shakes his head and mouths I’m so sorry in your direction as Pansy drags him off, laughing mirthfully. You blink, glancing down at the tiny animal who is currently glaring at you. Draco’s indeed, you think to yourself.

“Heya, little guy. It’s snowing pretty hard outside, are you fine riding in my pocket until I get to my next class?”

You hold open the deep pocket of your robe with your free hand, the ferret immediately leaping inside. You waited as it got settled, its tiny paws and head peeking out.

Satisfied, you start your walk across the school grounds, taking a much longer path than usual to avoid your older brothers, who had been giggling to each other far too much this morning for your comfort.

You chatter to the little rodent in your pocket, about everything from the Divination test you failed this morning to the fantastic cherry tart your mother makes every Yule. Before long, you arrive and climb up the stone steps, knocking on the heavy wood door and tucking your hands into your armpits to keep warm.

The door opens, revealing the half-giant groundskeeper who smiles happily at you.

“Y/N! I jus’ put on a kettle of tea, now. Glad y’made it, lad.”

As he ushers you into the warm, inviting hut, the ferret in your pocket squeaks at the sight of the large dog asleep by the fire.

You giggle, pulling the ferret out and setting it on the arm of your chair, gladly taking the warm teacup offered to you. “Mr. Hagrid, sir. My friend Pansy just kind of gave me this little guy out of nowhere and told me I was on indefinite ferret-sitting duty.”

Hagrid sits forward in his chair, setting down his delicate china teacup that looks rather out of place in his large hand, and squints at the ferret.

“Tha’s transfigured, that is,” Hagrid grunts. “Not a ferret.”

“I figured,” you shrug. “Ten galleons says it’s Malfoy.”

The ferret squeaks indignantly.

Hagrid chuckles. “If it is y’, Malfoy, I right like you better like this.”

You reach out to scratch the top of Malfoy (Ferret?) Blondie’s head. “So can you turn him back, Mr. Hagrid?”

“‘Fraid not, with no wand,” he taps his fingers on his teacup, making a steady clink clink clink sound. “Ah! But our mutual friend should be dropping by shortly, yeah?”

His sentence is punctuated by the well-timed FWOOSH of a flooed-in visitor.

“Heya, Harry! Draco’s a ferret now.”

“He wasn’t already?”

~~~

“My father will hear about this!”

“I’m sure he will, Dray, I’m sure he will,” you deadpan, wincing at the sting of Murtlap Essence on the back of your hand.

He mumbles a quiet apology, already rewrapping Harry’s hand in fresh bandages.

If you had told any Hogwarts student five years ago that one day, Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley would be sitting on the dusty floor of Filch’s dingy custodial closet, having their self-inflicted ‘detentions’ healed and wrapped by Draco Malfoy, they would’ve laughed in your face.

Despite that, the perplexing triad found solace in each others’ presence. No words left needing to be said.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. — Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”

[somethinginworl]

He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course.  Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that  sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he’s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least “character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad).    Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!"  –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect) 

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!! 

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case.  But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom.  Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or  a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.