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#brother's got no fear... no shame...
strywoven · 10 months
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cont'd. / @hearthtales
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Instinct rules the nature of most ( if not all ) creatures.  In a scene such as this , confronted by an entity which radiates such WRONGNESS , a wiser animal would heed the advice of such natural inhibitions : do not trust it , RUN⸺ !
This godling is no such creature.  Though born of the wilds , with veins alive of blood which sings the song of divine beasts , they heed not to fear but instead to the CALL OF CURIOSITY , that contemptible recklessness of courage and brazen need to u n d e r s t a n d and be u n d e r s t o o d .  And indeed , this moment is just such a moment where it comes forth ; those sapphire hues wide and awestruck , not a touch of terror to be found.
Thus , there they stand , practically g l o w i n g in anticipation , rife with EXCITEMENT like a wee child gazing upon the grandest sight they’ve ever seen !  Such a characteristic would kill them , they know , but it is a sincere innocence just the same ; for no matter the horror which thinks to greet them , Kaen would take it into their heart with all the love they could muster.  Maude’s warnings and cautions fleetingly cross Kaen’s mind— But forgive them , what is done is done.  And this interest , Kaen speculates from the great entity’s demeanor , seems to go BOTH WAYS .  So they are fool enough to play its game ( or , perhaps , brave enough where none other were afore ) .
Kaen preens a bit at the compliment ( so they think it is ) it pays them , grinning a bit , giggling softly.  ❝ ‘Course Ah’m a little afraid , ❞ They admit , their voice lilted by a heavy , musical accent and playful verve , almost as if t a u n t i n g it , ❝ But tha’s ne’er stopped me b’fore.  An’ Ah’ve ne’er seen anythin’ like ye !  Wha’ ‘re ye ? ❞  It might be a bit much to get answers , but it doesn’t hurt to make an effort to converse with it , either.  They add on , continuing to prattle on eagerly , daring to TAKE A STEP NEARER , ❝ Miss Maude said ye were scary ta’ guests but … Y’re not so bad ! ❞
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the-ipre · 4 months
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[id: a digital drawing of Faiden and Zol, two Star Wars ocs, as they hug. Faiden is a blue Theelin with a large fluffy tail and puffy orange hair, wearing a flowy top and white armor with orange paint on her hips. Zol is an orange Zabrak with a few broken horns, wearing all black with long pointed gloves. He has his face buried in Faiden's shoulder as he hugs her, hands balled in her shirt, and she hugs him back just as tightly /end id]
these siblings will be the death of me
#ash draws#star wars#oops all rebels#pov your fear and one thoughtless decision got your brother killed fifteen years ago and you carry so much shame from that day#the worst day of your life that still haunts you#and then he finds you again and he has been Changed he has been turned against your order he has been killing to survive#and he was the best of you he was the one you always looked up to and you are so glad he is alive but god at what cost#alternatively. you should have died but you didnt and you have been kept alive and honed into a weapon#you fight and you kill and you hate yourself for it because if you were truly as good as everyone said you should have died instead#but you dont. you kill the people who once would have looked up to you. all because you are so desperate to survive#and then you learn your little sister the one you helped raise the one you helped train the one you did your best to protect#she is still out there. and if you do not kill her one of your new siblings will. if you do not cut her down it will be held against you#and maybe just maybe. she will be the one to finish what she started and cut you down herself#and you fight and go through the motions like you taught her when she was a child#and you fight and you know that this is your big brother and he is still training you after all this time and he tells you to kill him#and you put down your saber and tell him that you wont fight him and if he has to kill you then do it#and his sword comes to your neck and he cant do it#your sword is at the neck of your little sister the one who should have killed you. and you cant kill her#and in your moment of weakness and indecision she knocks you out and drags you back to her new home#(and then you get put in lightning cage. ha ha whoops)#but then after all of that. you hug and you realize that your little sister is taller than you are now.#it has been fifteen years and you dont know who she has become. you dont know who you have become#this is your brother and you see what the empire you have been running from has turned him into#and after fifteen years of running and hiding and running some more. this is what makes you stand and fight#they will not be taking your brother away from you again#these two make me Explode they are soooooo special to me
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kavehater · 1 month
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Although my parents are certified loners (no shame) we have one family friend that’s super close and last year approx June fifth I had a psychological break and my dad called him over and he just spent a while talking to me telling him that he’s very proud of me and I stood like this 🧍‍♀️ whaaat 😭 and my mum was like to treat him like I do my dad so as to not get nervous around him in that situation and she was being so nice then even tho like an hour prior she was telling me how much of an embarrassment to the family name I was for him now being involved … anyways he’s coming over like tmrw haha
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belfrygargoyles · 9 months
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resolution for the year is to, if absolutely nothing else, look into job training programs i might be able to make use of. If Fucking Nothing Else
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aemondfairy · 3 months
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The Albatross
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summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.
pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader
word count: 767
warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.
note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)
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Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.
It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.
Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.
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Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.
“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.
“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.
“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”
One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.
Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.
“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”
You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.
“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”
You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.
“You hear that? You���re almost done. You’re doing so good.”
You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.
Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.
Finally.
The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.
“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”
“Like me?” You shot up.
“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.
Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”
He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.
A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?
He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.
Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family
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mrfoox · 11 months
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I... At one hand.... Like... And enjoy the fact me and my oldest brother have gotten... Closer since I moved away from home? But I am also so painfully aware I probably won't ever be 100% comfortable with him and have a great relationship with him...
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a-s-ter · 4 months
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"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"
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— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.
— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.
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PART 1 , PART 2
You were furious. Shattering objects around your room, you turned your once pristine chamber into a chaotic mess. Your anger overflowed onto everyone around you, shouting and unleashing abuse.
After that, you broke down. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped the bed sheets, sprawled on your royal bed still clad in your sleepwear.
You were M/n, the prince! How could you have stooped so low as to beg someone, especially a butler? It was utterly humiliating! What would your father and mother say if they discovered your shameful behavior?
Your father had placed a heavy burden upon your shoulders, entrusting you with the future of the empire. He had envisioned you as a paragon of strength, resilience, and dominance. However, you found yourself succumbing to the influence of a mere butler. His admonitions reverberated in your mind like a relentless echo.
"Do not disappoint me. Be strong and wield the sword with skill, just as your brother does. My time wanes, and the throne shall be yours upon my passing. Fail me not, M/n, lest I consider another heir."
These words were etched into your very being, a constant weight upon your conscience. You vowed not to falter. You would rise above this moment of weakness and prove yourself worthy of the crown he had bestowed upon you.
Your cries were silent, hidden from the world. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone discovering your weakness, fearing it would tarnish your reputation and redefine how others perceived you. You couldn't afford to be seen as anything less than the strong and dominant M/n they expected.
You couldn't let your mother and father see this side of you. No one could know your vulnerability. But that butler had already glimpsed your submissive nature, a betrayal you couldn't forgive.
Clutching the bedsheets tighter, you vowed to exact punishment upon him. But how? The question gnawed at you as you plotted your next move.
"Your Highness?"
Your eyes widened as you recognized that voice. It was that damned butler! Quickly, you got up from your bed and hurried to the door without thinking. With a rush of irritation, you swung it open and came face-to-face with that annoying face you despised.
"You asshole! How dare you show your face in front of me!? Get out of my sight, I never wish to see you here ever again!" you yelled, your voice trembling with anger.
He stared down at you, his yellow eyes cold and calculating as they scanned your face. "That's such a shame, Your Highness," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You'll be seeing me more often."
"W—what the heck do you mean by that!?" you demanded, your bewilderment evident in your tone.
"Your mother," he began, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction, "heard about your recent behavior and was quite shocked. When she saw that I possess the proper manners and decorum you seem to lack, she decided I would be the perfect candidate to be your new etiquette teacher." His words hung in the air, leaving you stunned and speechless.
You chuckled nervously, hoping it was some twisted joke. "H-hey... Tell me you're joking. Y-you're joking, right!?" Desperation seeped into your voice as you grabbed his collar harshly, trying to shake the truth out of him.
"I'm afraid not," he replied calmly, his smirk unwavering. "She found out about your behavior towards the maids and your lack of manners, Your Highness."
Anger flared within you at his words, and you tightened your grip on his collar. "So what if I have no manners!? I couldn't care less about those worthless maids! Those 'foods' are nothing but garbage. We don't eat slop like that; it's disgusting! They should've been kicked out of this castle ages ago! Just like you! Just a lowly butler who's probably good at nothing, maybe just some trash my father picked up!" you spat.
"Your words only confirm why I'm here. Perhaps it's time you learned the value of respect and humility your highness."
"No! Fuck off asshole!" you exclaimed, but he paid no heed to your protests. With a swift motion, he forcefully removed your grip on his collar and seized your wrist in a tight grip, his hold unyielding.
You struggled against his grasp, but it was futile. With a determined stride, he barged into your room, his grip still firm as he flung you to the unforgiving floor. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as pain shot through your body upon impact.
As you lay there, vulnerable and in pain, you watched helplessly as he closed the door behind him and locked it, sealing you both in.
He glared down at you, his eyes a piercing yellow that sent shivers down your spine.
"Shall we begin the lesson with your mouth, Your Highness?" His words were laced with a commanding tone as he strode towards you.
"My mouth!? What do you mean by my mouth? Stay away, you filthy vermin!" You attempted to rise, but your legs failed you, leaving you vulnerable on the floor.
With a smirk that sent a chill down your spine, he loomed over you, seizing your chin to meet his gaze forcibly.
"You have such beautiful eyes your highness. Staring at me like that turns me on." he declared, as your gaze involuntarily dropped to his pants, where a noticeable bulge had formed.
"Do you want to see it? See how I'm going to lecture that mouth of yours?" His tone was both mocking and tantalizing as he began to undo his belt, the metallic clink resonating in the tense silence of the room.
"N-no, no! I don't want to see your icky meat!" you protested, but your words fell on deaf ears as he proceeded to remove his belt and push down his underwear.
Your eyes widened in shock as his erect member was revealed before you, Tall and pale white with a crimson hue at the tip, it stood proudly before you, veins pulsing along its length as it throbbed with anticipation.
"It's yours," he declared, his voice thick with desire, "all yours for you to see anytime and anywhere, Your Highness."
"W-wha—?" Your attempt at a coherent response was abruptly stifled as he seized your head, thrusting his cock into your mouth with an aggressive force that left you gasping for air. The sudden intrusion hit the back of your throat, eliciting a choked gurgle of surprise as your eyes widened in shock.
Instinctively, you reached out, grasping onto his thighs for support as you struggled to accommodate his size. Sweat beaded on his brow as he grunted in satisfaction, relishing the sight of you adjusting to his relentless penetration. His grip tightened on your hair, adding to the sensation of his control over you.
"Mhmm, that's a good boy... Taking me all in," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you with a predatory gaze.
"Ngh... Let's begin the lesson, Your Highness." With a deliberate motion, he began to withdraw his cock from your mouth, only to slam it back in with a force that stole your breath away. Your grip on his thighs tightened as tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of pain and submission washing over you as you surrendered to his will.
He moaned in ecstasy, throwing his head back as the overwhelming sensations consumed him. The warmth of your mouth enveloped him, the slickness of your saliva adding to the intensity of his pleasure. With each thrust, he felt himself sinking deeper into bliss, utterly lost in the euphoria of the moment.
As he gazed down at you, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. Your furrowed brows, the blush that painted your cheeks, the subtle bulge he noticed in your pants – it was all too much, too perfect. In this moment, you belonged to him and him alone.
"Kick and claw all you like. Scream. Hit me. Curse the fuck out of me. Only you can do that to me and not to anyone else, i don't want your attention to go to anyone but me. You don't belong to anyone but me, M/n. Only me." he declared, his words laced with a possessive fervor as he continued to thrust into your mouth, each motion driving him closer to the edge.
As you gasped for breath, he withdrew his cock from your mouth allowing you a moment to recover. Relief flooded through you as you gulped in air, your chest heaving with the effort while a smirk was playing on his lips as he observed your struggle.
With a cruel chuckle, he grasped his cock firmly in his hand and lightly slapped your flushed cheeks with it, Your glare met his amused gaze. Chuckling softly as he seemed to revel in your reaction.
"Day to dusk, I'm going to fuck that bratty attitude out of you, so you better be ready, your Highness."
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redhead1180 · 5 months
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Sunshine
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Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader
Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.
Words - 3k
Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.
A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!
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Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.
JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.
You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.
Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.
“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.
“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.
“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.
“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”
“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.
“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.
So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.
“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”
“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.
I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.
He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.
I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.
“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.
*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.
“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.
He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.
“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.
“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.
I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.
“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.
I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.
“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.
“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.
“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.
“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.
“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.
“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.
I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.
“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.
“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.
“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.
“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.
Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.
“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.
“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.
“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.
“I hate you” I hissed at him.
Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.
“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”
I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.
“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.
“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.
“That’s my good little slut” he teased.
He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.
“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.
He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.
“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”
He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.
“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.
All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.
“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.
I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.
“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”
He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.
“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.
“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.
“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.
“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.
“What the fuck” I snap.
“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”
He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.
“Unlock it” he demands.
I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.
“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.
I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.
“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”
I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.
Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.
“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”
“It was the drugs” I argue.
“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.
I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.
“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”
I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.
Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.
I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.
Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.
I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.
How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.
Tagging some moots:
@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses
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kirkwallsquad · 3 months
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favorite da2 battle lines in no particular order
i'm listening to a compilation by danaduchy on youtube rn so
literally every fenris line bcs everyone else is YELLING and he's just speaking in his regular quiet-ish voice. king what are you saying i can't HEAR YOU
except for when hawke goes down. THEN he's loudly upset.
"hawke's down! time to panic!" (isabela)
"the tame elf is down" (varric - what the fuck omg don't call fenris that)
"your pet elf has fallen" (carver - WHAT THE FUCK OMG DON'T CALL FENRIS THAT)
"that moody mage is down" (aveline)
"ugh, can someone pick up fenris please?" (merrill)
"isabela's on the ground... appropriately" (aveline - HELLO?!?!?!?)
"merrill! oh, blood mages are so dramatic" (isabela)
"aveline has fallen?" (fenris - why is this a question babe)
"they got whatshisname, the mage" (varric - i continue to believe he doesn't know anders' name until act 3)
"the dwarf has dropped a few more feet" (sebastian)
"dear varric, please learn to parry. love, your innards" (varric)
"do you have something for this, because it hurts" (carver)
"even my teeth hurt" (anders)
"i've got so many bruises now they've got names and families" (merrill)
"ugh, i have dirt in my mouth" (sebastian)
"you're going to let me walk around injured?" (carver)
"being close to death is very bad for my morale" (isabela)
sebastian describes his wounds as "oozing" or "seeping" more than once
"i know dalish are meant to be close to the earth, but we don't mean literally" (merrill)
"i'm alright, who needs kidneys anyway" (isabela)
"hawke. varric. i think this is bad." (merrill)
"stop being you and fix me up" (carver - BABY. BABY BROTHER.)
"that really gets the blood flowing" but also "i will fight and pray for forgiveness later" but also "this is much more exciting than the chantry!" (sebastian - what is wrong with you <3)
"my face is not a shield!" (hawke)
"and they say drinking doesn't solve anything" (isabela)
"haawke i can't mooove" (sebastian)
"i'm too far away, what do you want me to do? shout at them?" (isabela)
"i'd have to fly to reach! of course, i've always wanted to learn to fly" (merrill - she's literally the funniest person ever)
"alas, no" (fenris)
"my faith is my armor! my cause is my shield!" (sebastian)
"if we kill them, we get their stuff!" (isabela)
"andraste's knees, it's like herding cats!" (isabela)
"AFRAID YET?!" (anders)
"RUN! WHILE YOU CAN!" (anders - he's so loud i love him)
"another one for me! how many have you gotten, hawke?" (varric)
"ah. a shame that you're going to die, no?" (fenris)
"you. me. and an audience. that's what this is all about!" (carver)
"may the creators have mercy on you! i certainly won't." (merrill)
"destructive forces of nature, coming up!" (anders)
"suck on a fireball!" (anders)
"NEVER TAUNT A MAGE!!!" (anders)
"a thrust, now a parry" (fenris)
"i'm gonna taunt you in elvish now! durgen'len! aravel! vallaslin!" (merrill)
"hello, i'm merrill, and i'll be your distraction." (merrill)
"I'LL SHOW YOU WHY MAGES ARE FEARED!!!" (anders)
"maker please forgive your children" followed immediately by "DID YOU SEE THAT SHOT" (sebastian)
"WANT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER THESE ROBES?!?!?!" (anders)
"I'M RIGHT HERE! HIT ME!" (isabela)
"maker, the idiocy" (bethany)
"MAKER BLESS YOUR CHILDREN IN THEIR HOUR OF NEEEED" (sebastian)
"my weapon does nothing??" (fenris - he sounds so puzzled help)
"this is SO not working" (anders)
"if the pointy sticks don't work, try the other pointy sticks" (isabela)
"ah, dear. why doesn't anyone ever want to be nice to us?" (merrill)
"is there an end to the people who hate you?" (aveline)
"looks like we've got a few more puppies to kick" (isabela - HELLO?!?)
"take a step, kill, repeat repeat repeat" (carver)
"the hate you inspire is unfortunate" (fenris)
"another twenty steps, another batch of deaths" (anders)
"nobody seems to like you. do you get used to that?" (merrill - ouch. brutal hskfjhgksdjfhg)
"i can't take credit for all of this. hawke helped a little bit" (isabela)
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vaspider · 1 year
Text
Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
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oneeyedlove · 2 months
Text
King of the ashes.
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summary | Moons had passed since your last quarrel with your estranged husband, the events of Rook’s Rest bringing you together one more time.
pairing | Aemond Targaryen x oc!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!reader (platonic).
tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex, PinV, arguing, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, Targ!cest, ANGST/little comfort, ooc Aemond (probably). SPOILERS
wordcount | 8.5K - i am so sorry
note | All the valyrian i use comes from a very shady translator so there probably are a lot of mistakes, if you have any input or helpful information pls tell me. I got really excited writing this but I feel the last part is a bit rushed, sorry about that! Any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3
Find part 1 here
[ gif by @gameofthronesdaily ]
124 AC
The afternoon sun spilled its light upon the tearful eyes of prince Aemond Targaryen, almost if mocking his heartache through its refulgent heat. The young boy sheltered himself in a seemingly abandoned corridor of the Red Keep, seeking solace from the cruel hoax imposed on him during his lessons. He could still hear them, their words — “The Pink Dread”. Such title roared in his ears, humiliation engulfing the silver prince as he forced his cries back into his throat. His mother had failed in her feeble attempts to comfort him, her attention focused solely on punishing his nephews for their so called savagery — even if it was clear this had Aegon’s name written all over it.
The worst part was that she had witnessed it. She hadn’t laughed or joined them in their persecution, but he could not bear the thought of his weakness being exposed before her. Hers was the judgment he feared most after all, she was the only one he could truly call friend.
Aemond hadn’t taken notice of a blue covered figure that watched him until she sat at his side, her weight shifting the cushions of the settee beneath them. His eyes refused to meet hers, hoping to conceal his shame as he hugged his knees against his chest. The girl stared at him in silence, her back resting on the wall whilst her feet dangled over the edge of her seat.
“Aem…” Aelora finally spoke, the softness in her tone melodic as a ballad.
“What do you want?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.
She had been made aware of Aemond’s displeasure concerning the dearth of a dragon to call his own through countless protests, his state being one of constant anger towards what he deemed his fault. It was also known by her that he would grow to be the most estimable dragonrider of them all, for none were devoted to learning and practicing as he was — it was only a matter of patience. Thus, when Aelora’s eyes caught sight of the swine inside the dragonpit, her brothers knew their mother’s chastening would be nothing compared to hers.
“My brothers are fools, I wish to apologize on their behalf.” She brought her hand to hold his, a gesture of innocent assurance.
“You did not deserve it.”
The boy slowly drifted his eyes from the window to lay his gaze upon her, his heartbeat quavering at her touch. Nevertheless, her kind words couldn’t erase his shortcomings — he couldn’t accept charity for his ridicule, he wouldn’t.
“I… I have no need for your pity.” As much as he tried, he failed to stop woe from consuming his voice, as well as his demeanor.
“I don’t pity you.” Grasping his hand tighter, she looked at him through furrowed brows.
“You shall have a dragon. One even bigger than Sunfyre, I know it! In the meantime you can help me with Lyrrax, even fly with me once she’s big enough!”
It was evident her enthusiasm was a childish one, an effort to install hope over the sorrow that buried his thoughts — but she had no care for it. She noticed as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, even as he tried to suppress it. She wasn’t the one who owed him an apology, and yet there she was, offering her own dragon for an olive branch. His gaze flickered down at their hands, her smaller one over his, and he intertwined their fingers. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, for Aelora’s presence was reassuring and tender.
“You truly believe I'll claim one?” He asked, unable to hide the fleeting shadow of optimism that burned in his eyes.
“I am certain of it. We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon. You just haven’t found the right one for you.” A smile crept its way onto her face, her cheeks rosy and plump with eagerness.
Aemond scanned the girl before him, his expression almost vulnerable. The feeling of indignity was one familiar to the young boy and he had enough of it. He contemplated her words for a moment, and for once allowed himself to consider she might be right.
“Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I lack patience.” He let out a deep breath, as if letting go of the bitterness that had taken hold of him.
“You would do well to remember I’m always right.” The smug grin on her face earned herself only a rolling of eyes in response.
“Come on. I know something that will lift your spirits.”
Her words had barely escaped her lips before she burst through the corridor, tugging the prince’s hand as they ran. Hurried footsteps clashed against cold stone as Aelora strided through the maze of indistinguishable aisles, her gaze occasionally flickering towards the boy behind her. The smile that stubbornly weld itself onto Aemond’s face had transformed into a beaming grin, the sound of her angelic giggles clipping away the sullenness from his features.
A deafening thump alerted the prince of their whereabouts, the wide entry of her bedchamber welcoming him inside. He stepped in and curiously observed as she struggled to close the wooden doors, trapping the pair of them in concealment. The calling gesture of the princess hand woke him from his trance as he marched towards the illustrated wall beside her bed.
“Wait, what are you doing?” His head tilted in confusion whilst he fixated his lilac eyes on her hands. Her palm grazed the intricate designs on the stone, finally encountering the familiar crease on the surface — she pushed it, a dimly lit passageway staring back at him.
“Its Maegor’s secret tunnels!”
Aemond's bewilderment had quickly given way to wonder and awe. The maesters had taught him legends of Maegor's construction schemes, rumored to be an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the Red Keep, but he never dreamed he would get to see them for himself.
“What?! How in the Seven Hells did you find them?”He asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“A fortunate accident.” She shrugged.
“I was hoping to find the way to your apartments and surprise you but I reckon it cannot be done anymore.”
“You’re mad!” His gaze quickly flickered back to Aelora.
His eyes, violet in the soft daylight that cascaded through the nearby window, studied her almost warily, as if to gauge a reaction from her. He received no such thing. The princess brought her hand to his once again, carefully establishing themselves inside the narrow corridor as the heavy stone shut behind the two. Aemond allowed himself to be pulled along, not even protesting in favour of the tunnel. He observed the strange architecture through their route, the dim light that filtered through small gaps, and the strange cobwebs that had taken form. The limb that remained in hers seemed to squeeze it almost possessively — out of fear, or out of eagerness, Aelora could likely tell.
The hairs atop the young royals’ heads twirled at the light breeze that embraced them, the scent of saltwater filling their nostrils. A moss covered archway revealed a small, damp cavern. As they entered, rugged walls formed by weathered rock surrounded them and an opening that lead directly onto the beach offered a panoramic view of the shoreline and the rolling waves beyond. Beams of sunlight streamed in through gaps, illuminating the cave's interior with a soft, ambient glow. Their feet grazed the sandy floor underneath them, scattered with small shells and pebbles, remnants of the sea's presence. Inside the serene and veiled space, a true connection between land and ocean can be felt — a fitting discovery for a princess of House Velaryon.
Aelora’s brown orbs searched for the boy’s lilac ones, a wide grin spread on her face as she squeezed his hand tenderly.
“So… What do you make of it?”
Aemond was quietly impressed, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of the cave, eyes roaming across the stalactites that hanged over them, a small gasp escaping his pink lips. He slowly peeled his hand from the princess, walking over to the opening to look out at the sea.
“How — how did you find this place?” The young prince questioned softly, his head turning back to look at her with an almost admiring gaze.
“It is unimportant. We can confine ourselves here whenever we like! The others do not know about it — I’m halfway certain no one does.”
A small, pleased smile tugged on his features just at the thought of using the cave as a hideaway; a private place, just for himself and Aelora. He hums quietly under his breath, in slight agreement.
“Our secret?” He extend his pinky towards her, indicating for her to do the same.
“Ours.” She smiled as she locked their fingers together in a silent promise.
A silent minute exchanged itself between the pair, the linger of a childish oath tickling their skin. The future memory would cling to their hearts for years to come, a longing fondness drowning them each and every time — except they had no knowledge of it as of the moment, being too focused on the possible amusement that would certainly come from the cavern’s discovery.
“I can best you to the shore!” Aemond wasted no time as he sprinted to approach the broken waves at the end of the beach.
“Wait!” She shouted, avidly picking up her pace to match the boy’s, his long limbs giving him a considerable advantage over the girl behind him.
It had been an entire afternoon of nothing but running, chasing, and exploring together. The young prince had forgotten his troubles and worries completely, instead focusing on the thrill of catching a slippery, wiggling sand crab. The cold feeling of the seawater against his skin didn’t bother him either, nor did the wind whipping at his silver hair as they sat building sandcastles. By the time dusk began to settle, the two children had become completely filthy with sand, mud, and water. Their garments were most likely ruined from the seaweed’s smell, fact that would assuredly earn them serious reprimands from their mothers. Yet, he could not remember a time when he felt so alive.
As they returned to the cave, the sunset’s glow reflected in the wet stones inside, a sense of comfort enveloping the rock-strewn cavity. Aelora’s gaze fell upon the young prince before her, his valyrian grace never yielding to his disheveled appearance. She observed as he bent down, a sharp ore emerging in his hand.
“What are you doing?” She questioned through a mess of rumpled braids.
Aemond glanced up to look at her, smiling softly. With careful movements, the boy carved into the rock, his free hand resting against the stone wall for balance. After a moment, the four letters of their initials were carved into the stone. The scribbles “A.T.” and “A.V.” were jagged and a bit uneven, but still clearly visible.
”Leaving a marking… to remember.”
---
129 AC
Bleeding. Bruised. Brokenhearted. Those were the exact words to describe the state in which princess Aelora Velaryon arrived at Dragonstone. The crimson liquid that gushed out of her right side was courtesy of a Kingsguard during his desperate attempts to put a stop to her fleeing — the remnants of his white cloak hanging from Lyrrax’s teeth were evidence of the retribution he earned. The loyal she-dragon landed crudely, sharp claws sinking in the placid sand as her screeches blended with her rider’s whimpers. The princess could sense the pain inside the beast’s mind, their unbreakable connection making their emotions into one.
Pellets of rain grazed her face as she crawled up the endless stairs towards the peak of the islet, the translucent droplets mixing with tears of her own. The young woman’s sobs were filled with tales of disloyalty. She had betrayed her family, her duty, and worst of all, she had been betrayed by him. The one who stood before the gods of Old Vayria and pledged his unyielding love for her. The one who she had deemed worthy of the deserting of her kin. The one who promised her a future beyond the carnage of war. And yet he was the first to commence bloodshed. Her devotion had not been enough to subdue Aemond’s thirst for revenge — but how she wished that it had.
The mud on the soles of her shoes stuck to the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of shame as she entered the intimidating fortress. Her name and titles thundered inside her ears as the voice of a guard announced her arrival, though she hadn’t actually heard him. Her tormented psyche fevered with dread, fearful of the reactions she would receive due the forsaking of her own blood. All the eyes of her mother’s Small Counsel widened at the sight of the princess, distress and grief scattered across their faces. Her gaze flickered to the silvery locks on Raenyra’s head, the woman’s back turned to the room.
Aelora’s steps were slow and somber, as if her soul had faded and the lifeless carcass of who she was moved against her wishes. She skipped past Daemon at her mother’s side, lacking the nerve to meet his stare. Finally, she reached the bereaved woman before her, brown meeting lilac in a lachrymose gaze. Their pale hands intertwined in haste, and the once composed tears transformed into loud sobs as the young princess collapsed to her knees, begging for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness. Blood and teardrops met in the Black Queen’s dress, staining it as she knelt in front of her daughter. She brought up her palm to caress the side of the young woman’s face, the maternal touch conveying a juvenile yearning in Aelora’s heart.
“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered as anguish imbued her words.
---
The moons that followed Luke’s death were arduous for the princess, constantly having to prove herself before the family that once accepted her. Rhaena and Rhaenyra had silently recognized Aelora’s circumstances, acknowledging she grieved for a husband as well as a brother. Baela had hesitated in the endorsing of her cousin but surrendered to her pleads nonetheless. Daemon barely addressed his wife’s daughter, his hatred for his nephew fused inside the resentful stares he gave her. Despite her best efforts to cope with her standing, it was Jacaerys’ unyielding disregard for his sister that slayed the woman’s hope of mending their bond. The storm behind the prince’s eyes was well hidden inside his stoic expressions, seemingly unaffected by Aelora’s prayers for his recognition. It was only in the afternoon before their grandmother’s departure for Rook’s Rest that the siblings found each other.
The soft rustle of parchment echoed through the otherwise silent library, a salty breeze infiltrating itself through the window. The princess sat by the unlit fireplace as her gaze swept across the leather-bound books scattered inside the numerous shelves, each and all replete with the history of House Targaryen. The smell of dusty, old tomes was a bitter comfort in the midst of her morose silence. She had accustomed herself to this moments of solitude, seeking solace inside her soul. At heart, her deepest fantasies scampered free, picturing a simpler life as a commoner — untethered by the Targaryen name and relieved from the torment of the constant shadow of war.
Aelora was chased back into reality as Jacaerys’ presence made itself known. The young man invaded the room like a blizzard, his cold glare locking upon her figure as she rested over the armrest of the settee. Her eyes glistened with heartache once she felt how profoundly hostile her brother had become, turning on his heel to abandon her presence. The woman’s voice trembled as she spoke, her words pleading and vulnerable.
"Jacaerys, wait...please."
He halted, his shoulders tense as he looked back at her. The expression on his face was hard to read, a mixture of ire and pain etched into his features.
"What do you want, Aelora?" His voice was cold, the distance between them palpable.
"Have I stooped so low in your graces that my presence offends you? We are family, Jacaerys. Can we not even speak?" Her voice was laced with a hint of desperation as she asked.
"You ask for words as if they could undo what has already been done." His expression hardened, his jaw tightening at her words.
Aelora got to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. He spoke as if it had been her to murder Luke, not Aemond. Her eyes met his as she stood, her voice wavering with a mix of sorrow and anger.
“Do you truly believe I have not been made aware of that?!”
“Every day of my miserable existence is plagued by guilt. I close my eyes at night yet sleep eludes me, for the ghost of Luke haunts my every thought!” She grew restless at every word, tears forming in her brown orbs as she gestured frantically through phrases.
“I know I failed him, as I failed you and our family… But don't forget I too lost a brother that day.”
Jacaerys stood frozen in place, his grief still bubbling within him and yet his heart ached at the sight of his sister's tears. Her words cut through him like a dagger, his own teardrops threatening to fall.
"Luke is gone, Aelora, and your presence here only serves as a reminder of that fact." He took a step backwards, his jaw clenching as he struggled to control his emotions.
“You cannot blame me for what was not my doing. I was Aemond’s wife, not his conscience — albeit my best efforts.”
"But you married our enemies, sister! Do you truly believe your actions have no consequences?"
"You stood by while they plotted against us and our family. How can I not blame you, when you chose to bind your fate to theirs?" A hint of anger flashed in Jacaerys' mournful eyes as he continued.
“i admit i have made my bed and I must lie in it, but you speak of matters you do not understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she could shield herself from his hatred.
“He swore to me…“ Her voice cracked, heartbreak swallowing her words.
“He swore to avoid this — to stop this insane feud. He is an oathbreaker as well as a kinslayer and he made me a fool!”
The room was still tense but as Aelora's sobbing grew heavier, something shifted within Jacaerys. He stepped closer to his sister, and without a word, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His body was warm against her chilly frame as he held her close, almost protectively. Their grievances seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced only by a shared sorrow as her tears dampened his shoulder.
“Do you hold love for him, still?” He whispered.
“Only for the memory of who he used to be.”
The prince held Aelora a little tighter at her admission, his chin resting on the top of her head as they remained locked in their embrace. He could feel the weight of her broken heart and the ache it left her with. His wrath had dimmed, replaced by a sense of care and familial loyalty.
"Memories are not enough… Promise to break him should you get the chance"
“I will.”
Neither of them knew, but she lied.
Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, met her fate by the hands of the newly appointed Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.
Meleys, The Red Queen, had her head paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.
And Aelora, Aemond’s beloved nightmare, sent him a raven.
“We must speak. Find me at ghost’s hour where salt meets memory.
A.V.”
---
The stars twinkled outside the formidable walls of Dragonstone, nightfall enveloping the island in its deep shadows. The approach of ghost’s hour disrupted the princess’ heartbeat inside her chest, her previous conviction giving way to fright as she slithered into the network of caves where the dragons nested. Aelora called out to Lyrrax, her voice wavering with a mixture of stress and uncertainty. As the great beast appeared before her, its wings unfurling, she couldn't help but wonder why she had sent the meeting request at all.
The dragon’s own tension could be felt through her scales as the princess climbed onto its back, the weight of her decision settling on them like a heavy cloak. As they soared through the night sky, Aelora's thoughts were consumed by memories of Aemond and his treachery. The image of him flying over her grandmother’s corpse haunted her mind — the cold, merciless expression he conveyed twisting her guts. She questioned her own judgement in seeking him out, even as her heart yearned for the man who once pledged his undying love and protection. She looked back at Dragonstone, its familiar walls and towers illuminated by the silvery moonlight; she was abandoning her blood for him once again. The princess could only surmise she was either possessed by madness or a true lovelorn fool.
The frigid roar of wind traveled across her face as Lyrrax’s wings scraped over the tide’s surface, saltwater droplets cutting into her skin as well as her pride. She knew her grandmother would never forgive her for this, it was likely none would; she was an idiotic excuse for a Targaryen if she thought seeking the slayer of so many of her kin was justifiable. The burden of loss hung heavily on Aelora's soul as she took in the landscape before her. The faces of Rhaenys and Luke, forever etched in her mind, fueled a mix of anger and trepidation inside the young woman. Her thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of emotions as she soared towards him, recollections of the past playing out like a tragic play as her brown orbs focused upon the once affectionate site of King’s landing.
With practiced grace, Aelora guided the dragon into a smooth descent, its blue wings beating against the air as its claws set down on the shore of Blackwater Bay. The sound of their landing was muffled by the night, its velvety darkness swallowing the pair by the quiet that enveloped the world like a thick, black blanket. The crash of the waves greeted the princess’ ears as she dismounted, struggling to catch her breath and steady her emotions. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the young woman caught sight of the familiar cave that laid ahead, its entrance like a dark maw in the cliffside. The jagged edges were illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, sending shadows dancing across the rocky surface.
Bittersweetness engulfed Aelora’s frame as the memories memories of her secret rendezvouses with Aemond brimmed in her mind. Every step she took towards the cave was like a blow to her legs, feeling shaky and unsteady. Doubt gnawed at her spirit as if a persistent rat, her stomach flipping with every crunch of the sand beneath her feet. Yet, she pushed forward, determination fueling the princess even as her disheveled heartbeat hammered against her ribcage.
The sight of Aemond standing amongst the shadows caught Aelora off guard, the dim light emanating through the cave's entrance barely illuminating his form — she had thought to be the first to arrive. Before she could stop it, a slight gasp escaped her lips and her eyes widened in disbelief. He looked different, somehow. He seemed further villainous and wearied, the once familiar spark in his eye now replaced by a bold robustness. His sharp and handsome features were now harder, almost rugged, as if her absence had left its mark on him. Swallowing hard, she acknowledged the stark contrast between the nostalgic sentiment that nearly overcame her a moment ago and the tense silence that now enveloped them. They stood opposite each other mutely, both frozen and locked in each other’s gaze.
“Wife.” He greeted, his voice grazing her earlobes like the finest of silks.
“That title does not fit me any longer.” She replied coldly.
His lilac eye examined Aelora’s frame from head to toe, her cloak hiding black leather garments — most likely dragonriding attire. She looked skinnier than he recalled, the shadows only enhancing the redness of her eyes. Aemond could not help but wonder whether she had been weeping during her journey there, grief tackling her psyche as well as her build. The princess demeanor turned stiff, arms crossing as she stood clearly on edge.
“You remain mine, before gods and men.” His gaze flickered with something akin to resentment.
“Kinslaying is a rather suitable ground for an annulment, i should think.” She said, removing the cloak from her head, allowing her braid to cascade over her shoulder.
He froze, the muscles on his neck and jaw tensed. His first reaction is one of anger, clenching his fist as he prepared hateful words inside his throat. But as he looked her in the eye, his wrath melted away into something much more dangerous and devastating — something fragile. All he could see was the girl he grew up with, the girl who stood by him at his boyhood. The woman who whispered sweet nothings amongst the vows of their wedding. The woman who played silly songs on the harp and sang with the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. The wife who's hands he dreamed of at night.
“So eager to rid yourself of the shame affixed to my reputation… And yet, you request my presence with equal vigor.” He stood with his hands behind his back, swallowing any desires that threatened to get the better of him.
“It is my understanding you have become Prince Regent.” She tried to ignore his jabs, the truthfulness they held hitting a sore point inside Aelora.
“The betrayal of your brother becomes you. Yet another broken oath in your conquest for the throne.” She returned his insults, the knowledge of his ambition stirring something within the prince.
“You speak of broken oaths. And what ought I call the oaths you have broken? The promises we made when we married in front of Heleana and the Gods?” His one eye darkened, taking a step forward as he kept his tone controlled.
“Your hypocrisy is staggering.” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he spoke.
“My hypocrisy?!” She could feel the anger boiling her blood, as if fire consuming wood.
“Your sanctimonious preaches fail to erase your true nature, Aemond. Naming yourself Targaryen whilst the sigil of our house is paraded through the streets as if some vainglorious prize of war!” Her voice turned to screeches as it echoed through the stone walls of the cave.
“You may call me a bastard if you wish to, but my blood honors Old Valyria far more than yours.”
Aemond’s hand shot to her wrist, gripping it tight enough to leave marks on the skin underneath. His single eye was wild and livid, the scar around it turning his gaze even more menacing. He moved a step closer, the scent of him overwhelming her — mint and leather mixed with a hint of smoke, the familiar essence blurred her senses in a wave of longing. The princess hid her weakening behind a wrath curtain, the disdain she held for the twisted version of him that now stood before her casting their love aside.
“Watch your tongue, Aelora.”
“Or else? Will your murder me as you did my brother? My grandmother? I can see the conqueror’s dagger in it’s seath, evidence of yet another attempt at fratricide!” She accused him further.
“Have you not done enough? Must you ravage our family and yourself in your thirst for power?”
The hand that gripped her wrist traveled up to the back of her head, grabbing the braided hair. Yanking it softly, he pulled Aelora even closer, his lilac orb flickering over her expression.
“I am Prince Regent as the Gods intended.” He hissed into her ear, a dangerous edge to his voice.
“My reign, unlike that of Aegon, will be glorious — my rule absolute. And you, wife, will be by my side when I sit on the Iron Throne.”
Aelora’s eyes betrayed her as water began to brim in their edges, a horrified gleam passing through her forming tears. A hand cupped his left cheek as she scanned him, a desperate search for the man he once was. The man she longed for each night. The man who was the source of greater heartache than she had ever felt in her life. The man who was also the root of her most joyous moments.
“Your ambition shall be your demise, husband. I was yours before all of this, before your perverseness overcame your affection for me.”
“The crown may sit upon your brow, but i have sufficiently torn my heart to shreads in my attempts to remove you — even if you are my weakness, I will never belong by your side once more.”
”No wrath or cruelty is capable of subduing my craving of you, issa vēzos (my sun).” He leaned into her touch, letting his eye flutter at the feeling of the soft skin of her palm against his cold cheek.
In that moment of contact, he seemed so vulnerable, and much younger than his years. He was weak. A pathetic, love-sick man, and he could not bring himself to care. Aemond leaned his head against hers, their foreheads connecting as his gaze softened.
“I am plagued by thoughts of you and I, each reminiscence a torment to my soul.”
“Come back to me, be my Queen and rule by my side. Our love will be known forever through the Seven Kingdoms, your belly swollen with our child ensuring our line shall never be forgotten.”
There was a moment of silence as Aelora absorbed his words. He was offering her a chance at a life she had dreamed of, one full of passion and legacy as their offspring lived on after them. But it would be an existence consumed by greed, she knew it. There could be no going back after what he had done; Lucerys would never be uncle to her progeny and Rhaenys wouldn’t be there to counsel her through hardships. Their family was torn from the beginning, the tapestry of their lives further lacerated by his actions. And she couldn’t betray her blood again.
“I would do anything for you.” He begged.
“Would your bend the knee to my mother?” Her voice was shaky as the lachrymose gaze she held shattered, its translucent shards falling through her cheeks.
"I will give you anything. Anything within my power to give." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
"But not my crown."
“Then there shall be naught left to ask, issa hūra (my moon).” She sent him a smile, albeit a woeful one.
Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be in vain. He was so close to her that he could feel her breath on his lips, the feeling slowly driving him mad. He had imagined Aelora’s face, her curves and her voice each night he had been forced to spend alone — and here she was, right before him, but he couldn’t have her. The thought of how this could be the last time he held her without being shoved away made him pull her to him, his arms wrapping around her like vines.
The princess found herself unable to resist as she pressed her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the silent cavern. She clung to him tightly, her fingers gripping his clothing like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. For a moment, they stood there, holding each other without a word. The moons of distance melted away, replaced by a shared sense of desperate longing to be close again. Despite the comfort and familiarity of his embrace, she knew deep down that he would never surrender — his path set on the course of war and the bloodshed it entailed. The pain and loss they had faced would forever stand between them, but it did not matter tonight. Concealed by shadows inside the stone walls surrounding them, their grievances and broken oaths would dim at the radiance of their burning passion. For a brief moment, the pair would be one once more.
Aelora’s head parted from the warmth of his frame as her gaze followed the line of Aemond's jaw, her brown orbs traveling upward until they reached his mouth. A sharp breath hitched within her throat as she remembered the soft touch of his lips against hers, butterflies rattling in her stomach. In that moment, she was transported back to the blissful months of their marriage, when their intimacies were full of love and promise. The need to feel the familiar touch of his skin against hers consuming every inch of her being.
The prince’s mind and body were on fire. He could feel her gaze raking over him, like a caress to his spirit. The mere sight of his estranged wife in his arms making his heart pound wildly in his chest. His good eye watched her mouth as she swallowed, his one trackmindedness fixated on everything about her. He could see the memories, the same ones he saw every night, flashing through her gaze. His fingers reached up to brush a strand of her brown hair aside, her once perfect braid now half done as the long locks threaten to escape. His hand trembled with how badly he wanted to feel her body, to trace his hands over her curves and kiss her neck, as he had done countless times before.
Aelora's restraint snapped with a sharp tug as she pulled him down towards her, their lips finally meeting in a desperate, ardent kiss. A muffled gasp left her lips at the familiar touch, her body responding instinctively as she pressed herself against him, hungrily devouring his taste. The prince’s sense of control collapsed like a house of cards, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he held her close. He was a man starved, his palms roaming over her frame, as if trying to commit every curve to memory.
Aemond's hands began to roam under her cloak, his fingers tracing over the round hips hidden underneath. He could feel the heat of her desire through the thick fabric, his own body aching to devour her whole. The fingers on his left hand fiddled over the clasp of her mantle, yearning overcoming his senses as he tossed the fabric onto the delicate sand.
Before he was able to protest, Aelora broke their kiss. Her eyes glistened with arousal as she watched his lips, reddened and bruised from the hastiness of their embrace. Her nimble hands found the buckle of her leather doublet, shivering as the absence of the rougher material revealed her chemise underneath. The sheer linen did little to protect the princess’ frame from the cold breeze that made its way through the cave’s entrance, her nipples stiffening at the feeling. The young woman felt no grief for her modesty as Aemond’s eye watched her carefully, a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She continued to undress, slender fingers slowly untying the laces on her breeches. Her boots met the rest of her dragonriding garments on the jagged rocks by the cavern’s wall, leaving the princess in only her smallclothes.
The silver prince was left breathless by her actions, completely entranced by the sight of her exposed chest, every contour of her body on display through the translucent fabric. His eye drank in the sight and he could feel his blood rushing to a southernmost point. He wanted to worship her, to kiss and nibble her skin — to make her cry out his name until the only thing she could remember was the feel of him against herself. At this moment, he was no longer Aemond Targaryen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm; he was a dog at her heel, eager for her calling. His gaze never left hers, staring at her vulnerable state as he mirrored her actions. First he removed his baldric, steel clinking as his dagger and sword fell to the ground. Then, he slowly undid the various buckles on his black jerkin, his breeches following suit. He did not waver as her brown eyes found his stiffened manhood; for he hadn’t cared to remain in concealment as she did.
Aelora’s gaze followed her husband as he approached her again, his hands reaching out and his fingers gently sliding up her bare thigh. She felt him press further into her, his cock pushing itself snugly against her core. He leaned in until his mouth was just beside her ear, his breath warm against her neck as he bit the skin softly. There was no denying she was his, her soul forever branded by his sinful devotion; the princess would never trust a kinslayer twice over, but she couldn’t help but love him.
“Vestragon ao’re ñuhon. (Say you’re mine.)” His voice was barely a whisper but it was as much a command as a plead.
“Vestragon ao’re nykeēdrosa ñuhon, gīda sepār syt kiza bantis. (Say you’re still mine, even just for tonight)”.
“Nyke aōhon. Ēva tubis ōños. (I am yours. Until daylight)”. She answered, lips trembling as the words escaped her.
A primal possessiveness engulfed the one eyed prince, the part that had always longed for her roaring in victory. At that very moment, he felt that there was nothing in this world that he would not do for her. He took her mouth in another kiss, their tongues clashing in a more feral and desperate manner. Aemond lifted her, his calloused hands digging into her plump arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her fingers gripped at his silver locks, his sudden responde sending waves of languor across her limbs. He moved her onto the cloak that was on the ground, the velvety sand welcoming her weight over the fabric as he covered her body with his.
Aemond continued his path of kisses down her body, his hands wandering over her breasts and waist and his mouth leaving more marks in its path. He could feel Aelora shudder in anticipation, her hips arching against his as he moved closer to her core, the air heavy with the scent of her nectar. He halted, taking in the sight of her before him. It had been so long — too long — since he had laid eyes upon her like this, and he relished in the way she already looked completely wrecked by his touch alone. The prince finally reached his ultimate goal, his lips finding her mound as he licked a stripe across the sensitive flesh. He let out a low moan at the taste of her sweet ambrosia on his tongue, a loud whimper emanating from her lungs in response.
The young woman’s hair laid carelessly on the ground, grains of sand intertwining into the brown mess as she arched her back in pleasure. She cried out as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her further apart and burying his face between her legs, his tongue exploring her in ways she had missed for many moons. He could not get enough of her, his lips and tongue trailing silent prayers over her most sensitive spot as his name left her lips. She felt her walls clench as he barged inside her cunt with a long finger, adjusting to the once familiar feeling. Shivers ran down her spine in satisfaction as Aemond synchronized his movements, the overwhelming pleasure bringing stars to her eyes.
A lilac eye never left her face, watching every expression that played across her features. Her mouth parted in pleasure, each gasp and moan fueling the fire of the prince’s own arousal. He had longed to see her like this, writhing underneath him, his name on her lips and his touch on her skin. The memories of her had haunted him in his nights alone, but now, in this moment, he was finally able to worship her like the god given treasure that she was.
Aelora's cries grew more intense, her hips bucking against Aemond's skilled mouth as pleasure mounted within her. Her thighs trembled slightly, its muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was quickly approaching. Each touch and movement only served to bring her closer to the precipice of pleasure.
A loud cry echoed through the cavern as she climaxed, her body shuddering and her fingers digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor herself. As the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she felt as though she had been transported to another realm. The connection between them was somehow stronger than it had ever been before, their souls dancing to a passionate melody.
When Aelora finally gasped for air, the prince slowly moved up from her core, his body hovering over hers. He watched as she recovered from the rapture he had given her with a dark and vainglorious smirk. With his elbow holding himself over her, he pulled her leg to rest on his hip as his eye scanned her features. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, the tip of her finger caressing his reddened scar as she furrowed her brows.
“Nyke gaomagon regret ziry. Skoros nyke vestretan se mōrī jēda. (I do regret it. What I said the last time.)” She apologized, regret brimming in her brown orbs.
Aemond leaned into her touch, his good eye closing at the gentle touch of her hand against his skin, it felt nearly as soothing as a balm to his weary heart. The mention of the title she had bestowed upon him sent a chill through his spine, his monstrous behavior had earned the words even if they had maimed him. His face turned to press a soft kiss into her palm, before opening his eye to look at her again.
“It is of no importance.” His voice was rough and low as he spoke.
Aelora softly tugged at the straps of his eyepatch, earning a trembling exhale from him in response. The touch of her delicate fingers on his malady sent a wave of fear through his spirit. She removed piece of leather, revealing the puckered, scarred skin where his eye had once been. He found himself unable to look at her for a moment, the feeling of vulnerability consuming him in the dim light of the cave. The princess looked deeply into the sapphire gem in his socket, tenderness engulfing the kiss she placed upon it.
Aemond's touch was gentle as he took her lips in his, not waiting for her response as he gripped her hip and turned her on her stomach. His eye roamed over the expanse of her back, tracing his fingers over the smooth surface of her skin, leaving a trail of gentle caresses in its path. It was a stark contrast to the frenzied way he had touched her previously, this touch was far more tender, almost reverent in nature. His body pressed against hers as the length of his manhood rested on the small of her back, buring into her skin. He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear as he moved closer.
“Azantys ñuha sindigho, issa vēzos. (I have missed you desperately, my sun)”. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered.
Aelora arched her back as she felt the tip of his cock breeching her dampened slit, her knees propping her hip upwards in search of contact. His arm reached under her, squeezing one of her peaks as he fully entered her. The pair let out breathless moans as Aemond moved against her, leaving no time for her adjustment. The sting of pain she felt had been nothing compared to the ecstasy of his length inside her, finding herself unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being around him.
The prince’s thrusts grew harder, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both frenzied and yet somehow controlled. Her moans and sighs filled the air, his own breaths coming quick and sharply as he took her with a wild abandon. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the soft flesh as his hands buried into her hips.
“Avy jorrāelan. (I love you)” Aelora murmured between ragged moans, her hand reaching to grasp his hair.
His eye widened slightly at her words, a thrill rushing through him at having heard them coming from her lips once again. His lips found the base of her jawline, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. His cock kept reaching further into her cunt as their flesh moved together with a rhythmic thrust, like the rise and fall of waves on the shore.
“Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond mumbled repeatedly in between thrusts, his words a fierce declaration of their love. He continued moving inside her, his heart racing in his ribcage as his pleasure overcame physical bounds.
Every thing about this moment was singled out from any other they had shared. The grief, pain and betrayal that coursed through their marriage dissipated amongst the dragon fire that burned within the pair. It all faded away, and all that was left was this, the feel of her skin against his, the sound of his muffled whimpers in her ear, the desperate way he repeated her name over and over. This moment felt like the calm in the middle of a storm, a rustle of the ashes of their love.
Aemond could feel his peak building, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased the pleasure he sought. His breaths came out in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds of her gasps in the air as his length clashed inside her. Aelora sensed the twitching of his manhood, threatening to spill his release inside her walls. The mere thought tightened the knot that had formed in her belly, reaching the edge of her desire.
Aemond sent a few more thrusts into the brown haired woman underneath him before both found their release simultaneously, their movements slowing as they both rode out of the ecstatic trance that washed over them. The prince’s face was buried in Aelora’s neck, a guttural moan escaping him at the force of his own pleasure. Her body shivered at the feeling of his seed drowning her cunt, pearly tears streaming down her leg as she whimpered.
The lovers stayed silent in an adoring embrace after he disconnected their bodies, a wave of comfort washing over them. For a while they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, their frames entwined in a tangle of limbs. It was a strange sort of peace, one that they both knew wouldn't last once the sun rose — but for the moment, they were content. The night stretched on, each hour passing in a blur of whispered words and slow hands. Aemond and Aelora clang to one another, as if they could melt into one if they only held tightly enough. The threat of daylight and the inevitable parting loomed over them like a dark cloud on the horizon, anguish settling inside their hearts.
As the hour of the nightingale approached over their secret sanctuary, the prince and princess began to break away from the blissful haven that enveloped them. There were no words to be spoken as they both dressed silently, the sound of rustling fabric and soft breaths filling the air between them. The weight of war and the knowledge that this moment was fleeting hung heavily in the air. Aemond felt a pang in his chest as he looked towards her, a mute wish in his heart that they could stay like this. To be locked in this moment forever, away from the world that demanded so much from them. But he knew that was not possible. Soon, they would have to return to their duties and obligations — this feeling would become nothing more than a memory.
As they stood before each other fully clothed, their eyes met in a bereaved gaze — sorrow for the love they shared engulfing them. Aelora stepped closer to him, holding his hand softly, almost in a cowardly manner. She had no words for the man who was her everything, the man who had her in every way possible, and she was ashamed of it. His free hand moved hesitantly to hold her cheek, his eye flickering over her face, taking in every feature. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind, to remember every detail about her, down to the smallest freckle on her nose. His thumb traced her soft skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, as if to say “I will be with you forever”. Tears began to form at the corners of her brown orbs as she abandoned his touch. The sound of the rustling sand underneath her feet echoed through the cave as she reached its entrance, her form never escaping his stare.
She halted at the stone archway, her silhouette framed by the soft silver light of the moon. The night air was cool on her skin as she turned to look back at Aemond, the feel of their passion still lingering in the air. For a moment, they simply stood there, eyes meeting in the darkness. She ached to say something, to find the words to convey the maelstrom of emotions that raged within her. In the end, she simply smiled, bittersweet and knowing.
“Should we meet on the battlefield, I can’t hesitate.” Her voice came out a whisper.
“I won’t hesitate to kill you.” She repeated, to herself or to him — Aemond didn’t know.
The prince’s breath had grown a little shallow at her words, a frown forming on his face. The idea of their next encounter being on the battlefield, facing off against each other like enemies was a thought that pained him, even though he knew it was a possibility. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t hesitate either, that he would fight her with everything he had if they ever met in battle, but the words stuck in his throat. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.
Once again, she left him. Aemond would be a King without a Queen, half of his soul forsaken in his search for power. It had to be worth it.
Bur they wouldn’t meet again, not in the context of war or any other.
She would meet her demise alongside her brother in the Battle of The Gullet. Fighting hard like a Strong, dying besides her dragon like a Targaryen and laying to rest at sea like a Velaryon.
He would grow mad at her perishing, ire overcoming his every sense. And he would eventually be slayed by her stepfather at The Battle Above God’s Eye.
Their love was epic, a fierce tale of forbidden passion that would never be written about inside history books. The only legacy they would leave behind had been scribbled onto a stone wall years before.
A.T. & A.V.
---
Taglist: @onlyrealjoy @siriusblackssun @adombtch
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shiratamahatsumiyo · 3 months
Text
Somewhere in an alternate universe where Malleus' sibling dating Leona and coming out gay to him is like--
Sibling! Draconia: "Brother, I have something important to ask you..."
Malleus: "How strange. Usually you would have Lilia assist you or provide answers to your questions."
Sibling! Draconia: "Yes but this time I am asking for your opinion on a topic concerning... my romantic relationship."
Malleus: "... You have a romantic relationship? Without Lilia or grandmother's guidance? How intriguing."
Sibling! Draconia: "Brother!"
Malleus: "My apologies. I am just amazed by the fact that you managed to obtain a romantic relationship. I mean... You do not seem to enjoy interacting or mingling with people. So this... Potential lover of yours might be interesting."
Sibling! Draconia: "That's the problem. I think he might concern you."
Malleus: "...He?"
Sibling! Draconia: "..."
Malleus: "... Sibling! Draconia. What is the meaning of this?"
Sibling! Draconia: "... I've already asked for permission from Lilia. I only need yours."
Malleus: "I do not understand. Why?"
Sibling! Draconia: "I know that I am only allowed to marry a suitable candidate by grandmother's suggestions but... I felt like I was hiding and suppressing the affection of me and my... Lover held for each other... Am I not capable of loving someone on my own accord?"
Malleus: "..."
Sibling! Draconia: "... If you do not approve, I understand-"
Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia, you are a Draconia."
Sibling! Draconia: "I know! Draconias do not have time for affairs with others. I must be prepared and trained to rule the Valley of Thorns alongside my family-"
Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia. Us Draconias must cherish the ones we deem worthy of our love and affection, or so Lilia have taught me. So whoever this man or woman might be, I will try to deem him worthy of the title of being your lover."
Sibling! Draconia: "... Do you promise?"
Malleus: "I promise."
Sibling! Draconia: ....*exhale*....
Malleus: "...Well?..."
Sibling! Draconia: "He's a bit irked about the thought of visiting you. So I am asking for your permission alone."
Malleus: "It's alright. Many have been intimidated by me after all, but I must say, it actually makes me pleased to hear that he fears the Draconias."
Sibling! Draconia: "His name is Leona Kingscholar--"
FUCKING LIGHTNING DESTROYS THE ROOF
Malleus: "A what, dear Sibling! Draconia? 😊"
Sibling!Malleus: "...A beastman by the name of Leo--"
Malleus: "BY THE GREAT SEVENS... HAVE YOU GOT STONES FOR EYES?! HAVE YOU GOT WAX IN YOUR EARS?! YOUR RELATIONSHIP WILL NEVER LAST A SINGLE SECOND FOR THAT RUGGED HOUSE CAT OF A FOOL WILL JUST TAKE YOUR PRESENCE FOR GRANTED. YOU WILL BE A LAUGHINGSTOCK FOR YOU MARRIED SUCH A SPINELESS COWARD."
Sibling! Draconia: "Oh don't be dramatic. He's not that bad..."
Malleus: "HE WILL EITHER PLACE THE DRACONIA NAME TO SHAME OR FORCE YOU TO BE ONE OF HIS TROPHIES THAT HE'LL FLAUNT TO HIS KINGDOM AS A MEANS OF INTIMIDATION. HE IS NOT SUITABLE FOR CARING AND PROTECTING YOU. YOU MUST LEAVE HIM AT ONCE!"
Sibling! Draconia: "Hey, you promised!"
Malleus: "YOUR NAIVETY HAS BLINDED YOU FROM THE TRUE NATURE OF THAT MANED IDIOT. HE WILL USE ANY ACTIONS NECESSARY TO SUCCEED IN CLIMBING FIRST PLACE, AND THAT MEANS HE WILL USE YOU AS A GATEWAY."
Sibling! Draconia: "Uhh, Brother?"
Malleus: "HE WILL NOT INTERFERE WITH THE DRACONIAS. ESPECIALLY YOU. YOU HAVE YOUR FUTURE OF SERVING THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR NATION AHEAD OF YOU AND YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT KINGSCHOLAR AS YOUR LOVER?! HOW ABSURD!! YOU WILL EXPERIENCE TIRESOME DAYS WITH HIM!!! YOU'RE FRUITLESS EFFORTS OF BEING WITH HIM WILL LAST!!!! IF YOU WERE TO MARRY HIM YOU WILL SUFFER ETERNAL PAIN!!!!!!!!"
Sibling! Draconia: "...Oh well, I guess the mention of marriage means I have a choice then. I will invite him for a little meeting in the dorm and I expect both of you to bury the hatchet. How does that sound?"
Malleus, pouting in a corner: "No!"
Sibling! Draconia: "Too late, dear brother! Haha!"
Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia!!!"
.....
Lilia, Sebek, Silver: "...What in the actual fuck just happened--"
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.
“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.
El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”
Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”
“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.
Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.
“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.
El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.
“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.
El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”
Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”
Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”
Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”
“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”
Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.
“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.
“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.
Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.
“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.
Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.
“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”
Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”
Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”
“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.
“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”
“—well it could have been—”
“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.
“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.
“Shut up Steve!”
Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”
Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”
“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.
All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.
“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.
“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.
Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”
Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”
“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.
El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.
Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”
Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”
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opiopal · 1 month
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random mc stuff that I dont want to be their own post so HERE WE GO.(a lot if not most of theses are cracked out lmao)
imagine an Mc who noticed certain dirty things in the HOL and REALLY wanted to something about it but couldn't cause they were still a stranger. so once all the pacts are made Mc immediately goes around the HOL and attacks all the spots that bug them.. and isn't afraid to vocalize their complaints. "lucifer, when was the last time you guys washed these curtains?? you know what, don't answer that, I can already tell that the last time these were washed I hadn't even been born yet." "who is in charge of sweeping?? there is so much dirt under these rugs!! common guys, seriously???" "Mammon, Levi, twins.. I love you guys SO much.. this is commmon knowledge at this point... but cleaning your pillow cases is NOT enough you NEED to also wash the pillow itself. you guys are gross. gather up your pillows we're doing a soak." "beel. come here and lift me up. I'm dusting the chandelier." "Lucifer, I do not CARE if you're working right now your shelves are littered with dust. either ignore me or go take a break because I'm not leaving."
once during breakfast the brothers could hear cerberus growling and grumbling in the basement, it was annoying but they were trying to ignore it until they realized Mc wasn't at the table.... which of course once it was pointed out they all rushed to the basement.. only to find cerberus laying on its back and Mc sitting above it and quickly rubbing and scratching under each heads chins while going "good boys!!!! good puppy!!!!" and cerberus very happily whining and grumbling with their tail thumping on the ground. when they manage to get Mc away from the silly, the only explanation mc gives it "there is a massive three headed dog that lives in the basement and is feared by 6 out of the 7 men who live here, how could I NOT pet them??? clearly no one but lucifer does!!"
imagine an Mc who is a selective mute, and normally communicates through ASL and notes. the first time they talk is after knowing the brothers for a GOOD amount of time, and its not a sweet wholesome moment no no. Mc comes home with Lucifer after they finished running errands, and the HOL had been: flooded by levi summoning lotan, the living room had been torn up by satan, the kitchen was in pieces because beel got hangry, asmo had joined in on the chaos after his bedroom got damaged as well, mammon was struggling to keep everyone together, and belphie was sleeping on a chandelier. of couse it dies down the moment they all see lucifer and mc got home, and before lucifer could say anything Mc threw their ars up and went "guys what the FUCK we've hardly been gone for an hour!!" of course all the chaos is forgotten for a second and replaced by multiple "YOUCANTALK?!"s, which then shock and amazement turned to shame as they realize the first time they were graced by Mc's voice was because they were being idiots and Mc was upset at them.
imagine an Mc who isn't really used to people caring all that much about them, and finds it very odd that the brothers+other characters care so much. so once their birthday comes around its turned into a birthday WEEK because Mc is being gifted things and being taken out everyday until their actual birthday, which BAFFLES them, so when their birthday comes its a huge event, Dia hosts the party at his castle, there are so many presents you'd think it would be for a family of 18 on christmas day. and when Mc is sat infront of their cake they can't help but suddenly start crying, while everyone is panicking the only thing Mc can say is "I-*hic*- love you guys so much!!" once they realized it was happy tears there was much less panic, and it was forgotten about for the rest of the evening.
You guys remember my post about pacts marks and Mc feeling a demons sin really strongly after making a pact with them??? well this relates to that. imagine if mc feels something strongly that sin kind of takes over for a while until mc is satisfied (asmo enjoyers do what you want with that info), so imagine: theres just a day were Mc doesn't get the chance to eat, first they slept in and just had to rush to RAD, then they had to skip lunch because they agreed to help a few clubs with advertising and projects, then they had to stay after for a student council meeting, then, just as they think they can maybe grab a snack they get held up again, by the time everyone is going home all the brothers can sense Mc's aggression, half way to the HOL lucifer says that they should just go eat at hells kitchen. so they're all seated, and the second Mc's food gets out they dont even bother with utensils, they just grab their food with their bare hands and eat like they're a starved dog. of course the brothers are concerned as to why they're acting like this, and mammon reaches to put a hand on Mc's shoulder as he says "hey- are you ok-" but he cant even finish talking before Mc jerks their head and nearly takes a few of his fingers off, though they dont bite him cause he moves away fast enough with a "EEP" and Mc's teeth loudly click together. so from then on the brothers make sure that Mc is able to eat something throughout the day if their schedule is packed to reduce the risk of losing fingers. honorable mention is Mc getting praised to much one day that the amount of pride they feel almost puts lucifer into a coma.(satan and belphie sometimes praise Mc a bunch to distract lucifer while he's working, another cheeky win for the anti lucifer league)
imagine an Mc who gets so over protective of the brothers, like CRAZY protective. there is a point were they hear someone talking SHIT about their found family trope, so ofc the reasonable reaction is to tackle the demon down to the ground and almost bite their ear off like some sort of rabid raccoon. another time Mc squares up with some sort of magical mythical beast in protection of the brothers, almost won and would have if the brothers didn't stop them.
imagine an Mc who is very introverted and is secretly a fanfic writer, so one day levi and Mc are hanging out, he's just rambling about whatever, until he eventually mentions that a fic he was reading hasn't gotten updated in a while and ist just so frustrating to him. when Mc asks which fic he was reading, he pull it up and shows them... which Mc realizes thats THEIR fic... and outloud without thinking they mumble "oohh I forgot about that one..." and levi freaks out and immediately is questioning what they mean by that. which they eventually have to admit it.
Imagine a little kid Mc, I mean like, LITTLE, as in like 7-8 yr. and they are just such a sweeite, and they work so hard. but I can also imagine that when they're first sent there and the introductions are happening, when lucifer introduces himself Mc immediately interupts and goes "lucifer?? like the cat from Cinderella?:0" and then ofc when mammon is assigned to take care of the child he is a lot nicer at first, I wouldn't be surprised if having Mc around reminded him of his younger siblings when they were that small,(yes I am a believer of the brothers being at least little kids at some point in their angel lives) but then eventually gets Mc to go along with a few schemes, which they both have fun cause really it just turns into bonding. then ofc asmo adores this little creature and has little dress up parties and helps Mc get ready for school in the morning so they always look their best!! lucifer gave him permission for this since he agrees that Mc should look put together despite being a child. I still think it takes a while for the brothers to warm up fully to Mc, but it goes by a lot faster since mc quickly becomes their new little sibling. I think it would be cute if what won over lucifer is Mc coming into his office at some point, saying that they have something for him, and gives him a drawing, lucifer ends up scooping them up to sit with him and they explain what they drew, and its mc and all the brothers:( that drawing is almost immediately framed and put up where everyone can see it.
thats all for now, but I have a LOT of Mc what if's and imagines, my fingers hurt from typing now lol.
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beensbaee · 3 months
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𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
summary; neteyam has always avoided y/n due to the fact that he cannot trust himself around her - but what happens when he is tasked to teach her?
pairing; neteyam!teacher x y/n
word count; 3.5k
HER BEWITCHING BOY
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
It was no surprise Y/n and Lo'ak were such good friends. Both of them had the same wild nature that always got them into trouble - and a distinctive laughter that caught everyone's attention.
Unlike Lo'ak, she was the tiniest bit more responsible. She was also more immersed in the clan too - often spending her free time playing with the younger children and asking the elders all sorts of questions - even finding new paths in the forest with Kiri to travel on.
Her relationship with little Tuktirey was just as sweet. She'd often find all sorts of ways to have the girl giggling and smiling, whether it was by making faces or telling her stories so silly that Tuk couldn't even contain her amusement.
There was just one Sully kid she wasn't close with. Neteyam was a year older than her - and he'd always kept his distance from Y/n.
She was not blind. She'd see how he'd be sitting comfortably with his family until Y/n would come. Even Jake had seen the way the boy's smile would falter as he would suddenly begin looking anywhere that wasn't towards her - giving her a curt greeting before excusing himself and leaving.
She'd try not to look hurt - but everyone saw how her ears fell in embarrassment at his behavior towards her. Lo'ak would brush it off, telling her to ignore him. Kiri herself would be confused but would always choose not to say anything as she took it upon herself to make the girl feel more welcomed and forget about her eldest brother's reaction.
Neteyam always seemed conflicted when his parents would bring up his apparent dislike for her - sometimes claiming he didn't notice he was treating her differently, and other times remaining silent when questioned why he treated her like she was something to avoid completely.
The truth was that he himself did not know either.
Well he knew, but refused to accept the fact.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Y/n was shuddering, Lo'ak howling with laughter as Kiri rubbed her arm soothingly
"It is ok, Y/n. Not everyone is perfect at aiming." Kiri said as a way to comfort the girl, discreetly kicking Lo'ak's leg and giving him a look that quickly stopped his laughter
"Eywa, I could have killed him." She groaned, hiding her face with her hands as Kiri looked at her with a frown
"But you didn't!" Lo'ak chirped up as Y/n sighed, slinging off the bow that had been on her back and holding the wood firmly in her hands
"As if he didn't already hate me enough." She mumbled, Lo'ak finally turning towards her with concern
"He doesn't hate you, Y/n. He's just... dumb?" He tried, but Y/n only sent him a sad smile
"He's a hundred times smarter than you!" She laughed, Lo'ak rolled his eyes as Kiri joined in with her own grin
"Come on, it is time to eat." Kiri said as the three teens made their way to the central part of the village where the clan gathered to eat meals together
After fighting over who sat next to whom, the lineup consisted of Kiri, Y/n, and Lo'ak in a row - everyone satisfied with the seating arrangement as they conversed amongst themselves. Jake and Neytiri sat a few rows down from them - and Y/n's eyes caught the familiar muscled back of Neteyam Sully as he sat down next to his parents and grandmother.
She winced, heart burning with shame as she looked at his bandaged leg. The same leg she had accidentally hit when wielding a bow.
Jake had insisted she'd be fine hours earlier when she refused to hunt with the weapon, handing her the bow and arrow and giving her a simple target  to practice her aim with while the hunting party was taking a break.
She'd usually hunted with a simple knife, expertly too. She'd excelled at many things - but her skills with a bow was not one of them
She'd fired it, her arm shaking with fear as her hand slipped. The arrow didn't stay true to its path at all and flew completely out of her sight. Moments after firing, they heard a sharp yell - Jake only turned towards her in disbelief with his mouth hanging open. Never had she seen her clan leader in such denial.
Her embarrassment was incomparable as she and Jake ran in the direction of the yell, only to find Neteyam kneeling over in pain as he held the gash on his leg with his hands, blood running over his fingers as he applied pressure to the wound.
Thank the Great Mother the arrow merely grazed him. Y/n had been brought to near tears as she apologized profusely for her actions. Neteyam merely bowed his head, mumbling that he was fine and clearly embarrassed himself by the situation as Jake quickly patched up the boy with his on the go medical kit.
He got up the second he was patched, insisting he was fine and leaving as Y/n finally gathered the courage to approach him
"Neteyam, Neteyam wait!" She pleaded, her voice desperate as he visibly froze in his path, slowly turning around to meet her eyes
"I know we are not friends - but please understand, I had no intention of hurting you. I am so sorry." She said, her voice was strained as she spoke, eyes pained as she struggled to convey her true guilt.
He remained silent, looking at her so intensely that she felt her back straightening subconsciously. He parted his lips as if to say something, mouth moving as he struggled to find the words before clamping it shut and shaking his head
"It is fine, Y/n. I am fine, please do not worry about me." He finally said, his voice foreign and eyes hard before he turned away from her, his muscles tense as he walked away.
She wanted to cry in that moment, her eyes stinging with shame as she turned away, unable to understand the clear aversion the Sully boy had for her.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Neteyam ate his food silently, occasionally cracking a smile at his fathers ridiculous jokes.
He couldn't stop himself from looking back to Lo'ak and Kiri, but his eyes didn't stay on them. They moved to the girl between the two.
The familiar feeling of his heart thundering in his chest returned as he looked away once again, closing his eyes while he struggled to keep himself from marching over to the trio and pulling her away.
He hated Y/n. He hated her so much sometimes.
He hated how he was reminded of her everywhere he turned. He hated how she'd braid flowers into her hair and how her clothes were always so out of place from the familiar brown and greens the clan wore - her pink and purple accessories only pulling his eyes towards her even more.
He hated how he couldn't control his heart around her. Never had he felt so out of control. He hated how easily she'd be able to have him do anything if she just asked, her voice a melody he'd listen to from afar - something similar to a drug. Something he desired so much but refused to have - the fear of addiction holding him back.
He'd promised himself it was just a small crush when he'd first seen her vibrant smile. 
He told himself anyone would have fallen in love with the way she so selflessly loved. 
He had to force himself to look away from her when she was doing simple tasks - eating, weaving baskets - even just praying - he'd find her eyes closed and content as her face was composed with eternal peace he wished to find.
He'd told himself to stay away from her completely because she wasn't someone he could trust himself to be around. The feeling of simply not understanding what he felt was what scared him so much. But her beauty - one that had his knees so weak he had to look away just to stand without faltering, was what terrified him the most.
Her beauty wasn't something unknown - she was the most enchanting na'vi in the clan through his eyes. Her delicate cheeks and round eyes with fluttering lashes had him in awe at times. But, as he watched another boy approach her as she ate - her curious eyes meeting him as he quickly struck up a conversation with the trio had him blinking rapidly.
He was seemingly talking to all three, but Neteyam did not miss the way the mystery boy's eyes would trail back to Y/n to seemingly try and catch a glimpse of her.
He clenched his jaw, looking down at the food in front of him with furrowed brows. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.
He couldn't even be mad. He had no say over who spoke to her - and this wasn't the first time.
He'd seen numerous boys approach her before, and every time, he'd be watching the interaction from afar. Fuming with a clenched jaw as he struggled to kill the jealousy that was running through him like a storm.
The only thing that prevented him from intervening was Y/n's gently but sad smile as she rejected Every. Single. One. Nothing was more satisfying than watching her shake her head - indicating a polite no from her that had each boy walking away with slumped shoulders.
As if Y/n had felt his burning gaze, she lifted her head to look directly at him.
Her eyes - they had him swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked right back at her, refusing to break eye contact. 
She blinked rapidly as she stared back, her gaze struggling to hold the intensity in his eyes as she finally looked away.
He left dinner right after it ended, returning to his hammock with a pounding headache as he struggled to sort his thoughts.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
"Neteyam."
He slowly opened his eyes to find his mother standing over him, her eyes concerned as Neteyam quickly sat up with his brows pulled together in concern
"Is something wrong, Mother?" He asked quickly, his voice tired as she frowned
"Yes. You went to bed so early. Are you feeling ok?" She asked gently as Neteyam automatically nodded his head
"Mother - I am fine." He said, but his voice wasn't convincing enough to her. Just as she was about to say something, Jake walked towards them with hurried steps once he heard their voices
"You awake, boy?" He asked, moving to stand next to Neytiri as Neteyam nodded his head, his annoyance present in his sigh
"Why is everyone asking if I am ok?" He questioned as Jake and Neytiri looked at each other - their eyes obviously having some sort of an exchange he was not apart of
"You seem distracted lately." Was what Jake settled on as Neteyam remained silent
Quickly, Jake's eyes lit up as if he thought of something. He turned to Neytiri with a glint in his eyes that had her look at him expectedly
"Now, I need a favor from you. Think you can do it?" Jake asked, his voice firm as Neteyam nodded his head
"Of course. What do you need?" He answered dutifully, his mind still hazy from being awoken from his slumber
"I need you to teach Y/n how to wield a bow and fire an arrow."
Jake didn't miss the way Neteyam nearly flinched at his words, his eyes widening the slightest bit as well. But, he remained still and silent and gave them no further insight as to how he felt by the request 
Neytiri watched him carefully as Neteyam finally nodded his head, his knuckles pale from gripping the sides of his hammock so hard as his lips were set in a firm line.
"Yes sir."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Y/n shuffled her feet as she watched Neteyam secure the last few necessary things they needed for the next few hours they were spending in the forest together inside of his bag.
His hands moved so gracefully - Y/n couldn't help but watch him as he placed one last arrow on his back, turning to her and gesturing his head towards the exit of the tent and towards the forest.
"Come on Y/n." He said, turning his back towards her as he led her into the forest, a clear destination in his mind as she recognized a few trees with markings on them with the path he was leading her on - clearly targets previous na'vi had used to practice with their bows and arrows on.
She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized the fact that these targets were probably made for children to practice their skills on.
Hunting with a bow and arrow wasn't required - and Y/n knew from the start she wasn't very good with one, so she didn't bother ever picking up one. But now, it seemed she'd have to learn how to master it, one way or another.
She turned to Neteyam, her voice quieter than usual as she spoke her true thoughts
"Do you think I am capable of even learning how to use a bow this late? Especially after..." She asked, her embarrassment evident in her voice as he turned to her with the same intense gaze she was used to seeing in his eyes whenever he looked at her.
"Well, of course you are. Mistakes happen." He said, silence following after his words as he saw the hesitation in her eyes - maybe it was his words, or maybe it was the fact that they'd never been alone together - and that he'd never really even spoken this much to her.
Finally, he smiled. It was such a small movement on his face, but she'd seen how his eyes had softened as the smallest of smile lines appeared. It was a change.
"Come here."
She obliged without hesitation, standing next to him only seconds later as he handed her his bow and an arrow. She grabbed his bow with careful hands, her fingers running over the intricately beautiful engravings in the wood as she admired it.
He was watching her, his gaze unwavering as he saw the small twitch of her lips as they formed a smile. She didn't notice his gaze - too focused on the bow, and he took the opportunity to look at her up close.
He'd never allowed himself to be this close to her - after the last time there had been such little distance between them her intoxicating scent had been the thing to keep him up for hours. But now, he closed his eyes and could only inhale it - his tail flicking as his senses recognized the sweet smell
"Hold it like this." He instructed
He didn't even recognize his own voice - it came out much rougher than he intended it to, but he forced himself to focus on the way her hands held his bow - searching for any mistakes with the way she was positioned that might be why she was having trouble firing an arrow.
His fingers mistakingly brushed over hers - and he felt himself letting out a breath to steady himself and calm his heart - it seemed like Y/n had also been thrown off by the small touch between them as she quickly blinked while staring at their hands.
Neteyam finally realized her mistake as he noticed the way her fingers went straight over the wood she was holding when they should have curved over the slanted piece.
He didn't trust himself to say anything without his voice giving away exactly how he felt, so he wordlessly moved her fingers - cupping his hand over hers and moving it into position and nodding his head
She met his eyes once he gave her the cue to fire her arrow, and she unleashed it - the strong string snapping it forward with impeccable speed as it hit the target right in its center
She looked at the target in disbelief as she let out a victory war cry one would use in battle - startling Neteyam instantly as she clapped her hands in pure excitement
"I got it! Neteyam I got it!" She exclaimed, her eyes shining with so much appreciation that she leaped towards the boy and tackled him with a hug
He only yelped as he fell backward and onto the grass, her body on top of his as she hugged him tightly - laughter spilling out of her as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her - before tightening them and reciprocating her ecstatic embrace
They stayed like this for a few moments - both of them holding each other so close that every single previous cold and awkward encounter of the two of them before faded away - the two so lost in the moment as they laughed
Finally, she pulled away - her eyes still crinkled with joy as Neteyam felt himself quieting once again as he stared at her. But this time, it was not with the usual emotionless stare - but with a gaze so open and with no facade, she too quieted as she felt the atmosphere change.
Finally he looked away, unable to look at Y/n any longer as he began speaking
"I am sorry for how I have treated you in the past. I... it was shameful." He finally spoke, words Y/n had been wanting to hear for so long - she didn't even believe he'd said them
She knew he had one of the biggest hearts ever - the snippets she'd catch of him with his siblings had confirmed that. She knew there was a reason he typically avoided her - and she had a very good feeling she was about to find out what it was.
"It is ok." She said, the sweetest smile on her face as Neteyam felt his heart crack at the sight
All the times he'd been so awful, so cold and distant - she'd forgiven. Because she had a heart of gold - something Neteyam felt he didn't deserve. Something he thought he wasn't worthy of.
"Y/n..." He struggled to finish the sentence as he stared at her lips, parted and simply begging for him - the urge to press his lips against hers was overwhelming
"Y/n, I do not deserve someone like you. I could not look you in the eyes - or speak to you all this time because of how I felt. I feel so much for you - it is like my heart is set on fire when I look at you sevin -"
The word had slipped from his lips - but she'd heard it.
Sevin. Pretty
She felt her heart flutter as she heard his words. He thought she was pretty.
He smiled at her reaction before shaking his head and reaching for her hands hesitantly. She reached forward slowly, lacing their fingers together with sparkling eyes as he cracked a grin
He knew she felt something for him too - because of the numerous boys that had pursued her, she never held their hands the way she was holding his - nor did she stare at them with eyes so round and filled with such a tender kindness as she did with him.
She leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against his to see his reaction. But he merely pulled her back in - his mouth enveloping hers as he moved his arms around her.
He kissed away all her confusion that night, spending the hours meant for her training with her hands in his hair and his face pressed against hers.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
six full moons later ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.
The tense Neteyam who'd always been frowning was replaced by one who couldn't stop smiling. He was the one who'd be more eager for Y/n to come over then his own siblings, the one who made Lo'ak gag dramatically whenever he and Y/n did anything even remotely romantic - the one who looked forward to seeing her the most.
In the beginning he wouldn't even stand next to her - and now, he refused to be separated from her.
They'd sneak out at night to gaze at the stars - a favorite pastime of theirs now as Y/n would lay her head on his chest and tell Neteyam anything and everything that came to her mind. Neteyam would do the same - saying things that would have Y/n giggling as she nuzzled her nose against his skin
"Tomorrow, you and I will have a date night." Neteyam said proudly, Y/n tilting her head up and towards with a smile 
"What is a date night?" She asked, her hands mindlessly playing with his fingers as Neteyam grinned
"My parents have date nights all the time - they go out to have their own private time, away from everyone else. You and I could pick all sorts of fruits to snack on - climb all sorts of trees with no one to tell us what to do." He said, voice gentle with his lips set into a soft smile
She smiled, gently moving her hand to his face as she traced over his freckles that glowed in the moonlight. He looked radiant in the day - but at night, he was bewitching. There was a certain thing about him and the night that comforted her more than anything else in the world
"Well then, we should have date night every night." She insisted as he laughed, the sound a melody to her ears as she merely smiled against him - the stars shining above the two for every date night they would spend together.
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i just want to tag @erenjaegerwifee for the request/idea! thank u boo for the inspo i hope you like it 🥺 took me a couple THOUSAND words to reach the part where he teaches her & they confess but i got there! 😅🤍
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revasserium · 7 days
Text
you
hayato suo; 5,844 words; fluff and angst, semi!dark content, obsessive behavior, stalking, emotional manipulation, stalker!suo,big brother!togame
summary: fool me once, shame on me. fool me twice, shame on you.
a/n: this was written for both @pixelcafe-network's challenge friday prompt (i got the song 'shinunoga e-wa' which... well.) as well as @peachsukii's wonderful horror event! pls proceed with caution!
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It is not a healthy obsession.
But obsessions rarely are.
The first time he sees you is through the hazy mist of a Monday morning, walking to school with Sakura and Nirei trailing behind him, bickering about a possible pop quiz in Japanese Literature that afternoon. Suo grins, his fingers laced behind his back as he nods along. He’ll do fine even if there is a pop-quiz. He knows, he knows —
And then, there you are, caught in the glimmer of sunrise, your cheeks brushed pink by rosy-fingered dawn — standing across the street, a tinkling conglomeration of phone charms dangling from your wrist. You’re turned to one side, laughing with someone he can’t quite see — and in that moment, Suo Hayato learns the meaning of the word jealousy.
He thought he had known it before but he knew then that every emotion he’d felt prior to this has been a mere shadow, a weak and straggling imitation of the real thing — curiosity, jealousy, fear, want —
“Suo-san?” Nirei’s voice is an unwanted interruption to his intense study of you, but he has a reputation to upkeep, so he turns and grins.
“Hm?”
“What’re you lookin’ at?” Sakura supplies over Nirei’s hitched hesitation.
Suo turns back towards where you were standing just a second ago, but you’re not there anymore. For a stomach-wrenching moment, he thinks he’s lost you, and he scans the street desperately for the shape of you until — ah — there.
“Who is that?” Suo asks, taking care to keep his voice casual, leaning over to bump Nirei with his shoulder. Nirei goes red at the contact before whipping out his little black booklet and flipping through the pages, clearing his throat.
“She just moved here!” Nirei supplies after announcing your name, “seems like she’s good friends with Togame from —”
“Shishitoren,” Suo finishes, his voice falling flat. His eyes catch on the sweep of your skirt as you casually loop your arm through Togame’s, leaning into his body as he ruffles your hair. Suo wonders, briefly, if he’d have been able to beat Togame had they been paired together in the faceoff and for a second, he resents Sakura for being the one chosen to fight him.
That night, he dreams of the softness of your touch, the tenderness of your palms, warm against his, and the intoxicating sweep of your eyelashes. He dreams of the milky skin of your thighs, of the candy-cane sweetness of your breath when you lean in to whisper something in his ear.
He wakes up sated and tempered, and he resolves to find out everything about you.
And it’s not difficult, not with a friend like Nirei.
You’re a childhood friend of Togame’s, a recent addition to the Shishitoren roster, though you’re not a fighter yourself. You remind him of Kotoha and he can already imagine you quipping back at his good-natured banter, how you’d flick your bangs from across your eyes.
He wanders across the borders on purpose, just to see you, but he’s good enough to stay out of sight. Though, even if he were found out, things between Boufuurin and Shishitoren are good now, aren’t they? There’s no reason he shouldn’t act as liaison, and build some new bridges between the two, is there?
“You were so serious for a while, Jou,” he overhears you say, hidden behind a hedge at a nearby park, his back pressed to the large tree under which you and Togame are, the pair of you on the park bench just beneath it’s shade.
“Was I? Yeah… guess I was. Went through a bad patch there,” Togame’s voice is deep, churning Suo’s stomach till it goes sour. Suo wonders if you like guys like this — all whisky and smoke and lazy Sundays. Somehow, he thinks you’d be more into guys like him —
Guys who would hold your hand like it’s the only thing they were put on this earth to do right. Guys who might kiss you and keep kissing you till he’s sure it’s perfect. He feels a gut-deep hatred of Togame, of the careless way he slings his arm around your shoulders, or the way he reaches out to ruffle your hair, mussing up your bangs.
Suo closes his eyes and leans back against the thick tree trunk and to anyone else, it might’ve looked like napping, or an afternoon meditation session. But in the theatre of Suo’s mind, he can see the way he would comb his fingers through your hair, how he’d treasure each silken tress, how he might press his nose into the crown of your head and breathe in deep — he can almost smell the citrus and coconut scent of your shampoo — he’d seen it when he paused by your house earlier that week.
It had been such an easy thing, and you’re so, so trusting. Leaving your front door unlocked, hurrying out because you were late for an afterschool cram session. Suo had followed you all the way from underneath the train tracks, telling himself that he was only watching out for you, like any good gentleman might do. He couldn’t exactly count on the ruffians from Shishitoren to look out for you — not like he would.
He’d slipped into your small house, easy as pushing through the door. And immediately, he’s caught by the scent of you — the slightly musty smell of wood and tatami mats, the floral, milky scent of your body cream, the damp trail that undoubtedly leads into your bathroom, where you’d just taken a shower (he’s sure; your hair was still wet when you ran out the door). He’d wandered through your house as if walking through a dream, lingering over the plastic wrappers in your garbage, from convenience store sandwiches. He frowns — a girl like you should have a more balanced diet, and he makes a mental note to change that.
He’d gone from room to room, pausing over this and that, tracing his fingers over the corners of your cabinets, the thin wooden railing along the steep flight of stairs leading to the second floor. He’d paused by your bedroom just to take it in — the girlishness of it, the pink bedsheets, patterned with tiny flowers, the stuffed animals toppled one over the other, the indent where you’d probably sat as you dried your hair. It’s not as neat as his own room, but there’s an orderliness that pleases him. He smiles as he notices a pair of discarded sleep shorts, crumpled by the bed; he toys with the idea of picking it up before thinking better of it.
Not now — not yet.
He takes careful stock of your medicine cabinet in your bathroom, memorizes the shampoo and conditioner bottles. He uncaps your favorite bottle of perfume (the one that’s almost finished) and breathes in deep, his senses sizzling within him as he feels his body prickling with heat, a swirling desire crystalizing at the base of his stomach.
Carefully, he unscrews the top and dabs a drop on each of his wrists before capping the bottle and placing it back exactly as it was.
And now, sitting here, listening to you and Togame talk, he feels a deep sense of satisfaction as he pulls a fresh bottle of the perfume from his pocket, turning the little bottle over and over in his palm. He’d found it easily enough, it’s a well-known brand, and not overly expensive.
“Oh — thanks for the fruits, by the way,” you say, “it had all my favorites!”
“Ah… fruits?” Togame asks.
“Mm — the basket that was sitting outside my door… wasn’t it from you? Or maybe Chouji… but anyways, it was nice! I had almost finished the lychee in one sitting — had to stop myself before it gave me a stomach ache.”
You laugh and Suo basks in the sound.
Togame chuckles, though there’s a distinct note of uncertainty that makes Suo’s lips twist.
“You used to eat them until you gave yourself nosebleeds,” he says, and there’s the distinct sounds of a tussle. You yelp, the sound dovetailing into a laugh as the smile slips off Suo’s face. His eyes snap open — he can almost see it, how Togame might reach over to pinch at your cheeks, how you might duck or swat him away.
Suo himself would never be so unruly.
“I gotta get to the bookstore — I’m covering for Momo’s shift today.”
He hears you getting to your feet, Togame following suit. Togame offers to walk you but you decline. And then you separate, each going your own ways. Suo waits till he’s sure you’re both gone before slowly getting to his feet, tucking the bottle of perfume back into his pocket.
The bookshop is a quaint little thing, tucked into a row of storefronts, all family owned and run. He takes a deep breath before ducking in, hitching a pleasant smile onto his face.
“Welcome!” your voice is bright as silver bells, “can I help you find anything today?”
Suo makes a show of looking around, eyes scanning the rows and rows of books, and then the manga section in the back. He points.
“Actually, yes — there’s a manga series that I love and I’m waiting for the next installment.”
You grin, “Sure! What’s the name? We don’t carry a huge stock, but I can definitely check for you!”
Suo delights in the blush that seeps into your cheeks as he mentions the name of your favorite shoujou manga (he’d seen the volumes at your house, the latest volume left open on your bed).
“O-oh! You like that one too?” you ask, your eyes scanning his face, as if this all might be a joke.
“Yeah!” Suo answers, linking his hands behind his back as you round the front table and lead him towards the manga section, “I think the art is nice but mostly, I like the slow development of romance between the two main characters — even though you know from the beginning they’re meant for each other.”
He’d done his homework; it’d taken a few days for him to read through the entire series, but he’d done it. For you, he would’ve done that and more.
You turn towards him, eyes wide and bright and excited.
“Yes! That’s so true! Here — this is the newest one, just came out three days ago —”
Suo takes it, letting his fingers skim by yours, reveling in the way your skin feels against his. Of course, he’s already read the latest volume, but he clutches it to his chest anyway and follows you to the front, content to listen to you chatter about the series and the reasons you love it.
“— just… I know it’s a shoujou series, and the main guy is meant to be lovable but — it’s just so realistic! Like he’s not perfect, but he just wants to do his best to protect the girl, y’know? And it’s so cute —”
Suo nods, reaching into his pocket for some cash.
You flap him away, “You can have that one! Think of it as a bribe — to keep you coming back for the next one,” you say, twin patches of darkness riding high in your cheeks.
Suo schools his expression into a bashful grin, “Are you sure? I can pay — I mean, I’d never turn down a gift from a pretty girl but —”
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fiddling with your fingers, “I’m sure! Just… promise you’ll come back when you finish it so we can talk about it, okay?”
Suo nods, curling his fingers into the cover of the book, his heartbeat in his throat.
“Alright then. It’s a date.”
That night, he places the manga volume and the bottle of perfume next to each other on his shelf, leaning back to admire his handiwork. He brings his wrist up to his nose, taking a long breath — it’s not the same, the perfume against his skin as it would be against yours, but it’s enough for now — enough to pretend.
It does not take long after that, not with his frequent visits to the bookshop (he’s long since memorized your work schedule) and the growing friendship between Shishitoren and Boufuurin — it’s almost easy. Too easy.
And you are so perfect, so naive — so easy to manipulate that Suo almost feels bad — almost. When he leans in to kiss you for the first time, the pair of you tucked in the far stacks of the bookstore, him under the guise of helping you reach the upper shelves, he nearly loses himself in the way you gasp against his lips, your fingers curling into the front of his uniform.
He feels the reckless hunger that has been threatening to tear him apart every night since he first saw you that morning across the street coiling up the back of his throat as he curls his fingers into your hair and presses you to him.
When he forces himself to pull away, he’s pleased to find your eyes glassy, your lips dark and kiss-bruised, slick with spit and parted. You’re panting, your chest heaving with the sheer force of the kiss.
Suo leans down to press his forehead to yours.
“Finish your shift… I don’t want to distract you from your work.”
You nearly whine as you bury your face in his chest.
“What if — what if I want you to distract me?”
It’s a horribly cliche thing to say — in fact, Suo is certain that it’s a line lifted straight from your shoujou manga. He swallows down a groan at the thought of pushing you into the back closet and having his way with you then and there but — he reels in his mind and takes a breath, shaking his head.
“Finish your shift first,” he says, playing the part of the ever-considerate boyfriend, “then… I’ve got a present for you.”
He tugs away to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger, before pulling away completely and bending down to pick up a stack of books that still need to be shelved.
You heave a long sigh, but don’t complain as you follow after him, trying your best to hide a smile that nevertheless pulls at your cheeks.
Outside the bookshop, Suo presents you with the bottle of perfume.
“I know it’s not very expensive but… for some reason, the scent made me think of you,” Suo says, his voice the perfect timber between hopeful and hesitant. You gasp, looking down at the label.
“Hayato! This is my favorite perfume! How… how did you know?”
Suo shrugs, smiling that enigmatic smile of his, “I didn’t — I just… I saw it at the store and thought of you,” he lets the heat flush into his cheeks, pursing his lips in a perfect imitation of bashfulness.
You throw your arms around him and press your lips to his cheek.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! And I was so close to finishing my own bottle too! Ugh — this is just too perfect!” you sink back to your feet, your arms still looped around his neck.
Suo lets his hands settle around your waist, laughing as you smile up at him. And then — you’re tugging him down by the collar of his uniform, your lips finding his, and all coherent thought leaves him again.
It isn’t till someone coughs that the pair of you pull apart.
“Ah… if it isn’t Suo-san,” Togame’s voice is at once amused and slightly suspicious. Suo peers over your head and shoots him an unassuming grin.
“Togame-san — it’s been a while.”
“Jou… I didn’t know you were coming over today,” you say, ducking your head as you surreptitiously wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.
“I wasn’t, but I found myself in the area so I thought I’d drop by,” Togame’s eyes flicker between you and Suo before settling on you. There’s a curious tick to his eyebrows as you refuse to meet his gaze.
You chew on your bottom lip for a good second before saying, “So… you guys have met before, right?”
Suo nods, “Yep! It was quite a meeting, but I think we all came out of it pretty okay.”
Togame lets out a low chuckle, “Sure. You could say that. How’s Sakura doing?”
Suo shrugs, “He’s fine — but there’s not much that’ll get him down. I heard Tomiyama-san’s doing much better now too.”
Togame bobs his head, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Yeah, he is. Uh listen… I didn’t mean to intrude or anything — just wanted to check in on my uh — friend here —” he jerks his head in your direction, smirking as you blush, looking anywhere but at his face.
“I’m fine Jou — I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Dunno, you still act plenty like a baby sometimes.”
You pout, eyes flashing as you turn to glare at him. There’s an easy tease in the lilt of Togame’s voice that sets Suo’s teeth on edge. He doesn’t like how close you and Togame are — never have — but he supposes there’s nothing he can do about it. Not right now, at least.
“Okay well we were just leaving —” you say, tugging on Suo’s sleeve.
“Yeah? Where to?” Togame asks, casual as anything, sauntering over to keep pace with the pair of you as you start down the street.
“Uhm…” you start, clearly not having thought this through, but Suo swoops in gallantly, reaching down to lace your fingers through his in a smooth, familiar motion.
“We were going to her place — to watch a movie.”
“Yeah?” Togame peers at you from over the rims of his tinted shades.
“Yeah!” you answer, perking up as you give Suo’s hand a grateful squeeze, “there’s one we’ve been meaning to watch —”
“The Talented Mr. Ripley,” Suo supplies, easy as anything.
You blink up at him, startled, but he only grins. A moment later, you blush, eyes flickering back towards Togame.
“Y-yeah — that one —”
Togame’s gaze ping-pongs between you and Suo, his brows ticking up ever so slightly.
“Yeah… I’ve seen that one — about a guy who pretends to be someone he’s not, right?”
You frown, but Suo squeezes your hand.
“Yep, that’s the one. It’s got a great roster of A-list actors, and the cinematography is really good.”
Togame nods, his eyes settling on you. You lick your lips, nodding along with Suo, flashing Togame a smile that he doesn’t return.
He walks all the way to the end of the street with the pair of you before pausing, cocking his head to watch you turn down the right with Suo at your side. You glance over your shoulder and catch his eyes; there’s a strange glimmer in them that you can’t name but it roils your stomach and makes your heart sputter like a blown out candle in your chest.
You don’t end up watching a movie at yours, but you do laze against Suo’s chest, his fingers threading through your hair as you flip through your favorite volume of your shoujou manga. Suo shifts, his nose pressing into your hair.
“I’ve always loved the scent of your shampoo — you’re almost out though, right?”
You nod absently, “Yeah, I need to buy more…”
You flip another page, and then another. In the intricately drawn manga panels, the protagonist blushes as the male lead traces his fingers along her jawline, tipping her head back for a kiss.
Suo trails deft fingers along your jaw, twisting you around. The manga falls face-down on the worn tatami mat as he covers your lips with his. There’s always been a ferocity to his kisses, but while at the bookshop, he tried to keep his decorum. Here, however, he makes no attempt to mask his hunger, his urgency as he digs his fingers into the skin of your cheek, holding you so tightly you nearly gasp at the sting.
You’re breathless when you pull back, and so is he, his eyes unfocused, his fingers curling into your hair till you wince.
“H-Hayato?” you ask, pressing a palm to his chest.
“Hm?” his single eye flickers wildly over your face, as if desperate to capture the image of you, as if might never be enough just to see you, but to carve you into his memory —
“How… how did you know about my shampoo?” you ask, tilting your head, a tiny frown creasing your forehead.
“What… what do you mean?” he asks, tugging you back down to graze his lips along yours, his words soft and distracted. You groan as he kisses you again, hoisting you up till you’re sitting over his lap, your thighs straddling his.
But you pull back, shaking your head, laughing as he chases you.
“No — I was just — I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my shampoo running low.”
Suo’s frown mirrors your own, his expression one of perfect, innocent confusion.
“Hadn’t you? Maybe I saw it the last time I was in the bathroom.”
You purse your lips, but decide not to think too hard on it. You’d probably mentioned it to him in passing — you’d spent so much time together in the past few weeks. It’s not an impossible thing.
He does so love to listen to you talk, about anything, about everything.
It isn’t till he leaves much later that night that you flick on the light in your bathroom and pull back your shower curtains.
There sit your shampoo and conditioner bottles, lined up along the wall just as they’ve always been. And, just as you remember — the bottles are definitely not see-through.
Little things start to go missing after that — your favorite hair tie, one of your well-used pencils, a single earring, a pair of sleep shorts. Though when you complain to Suo that you seem to be losing more things than usual lately, all he’d done was grin and take you to the shopping center, promising to buy whatever it is that you’d lost.
He helps you pick a new hair tie, a new set of pencils, new earrings that sparkle just as well as the first pair. You blush as he leads you towards the loungewear section, but he presses a reassuring kiss to your temple and tells you that he likes shopping with you — for you.
He whispers against the shell of your ear that he likes the thought of you in things he’s picked out for you.
You shiver at his words, all thoughts about your lost items forgotten.
Togame, though, does not seem to share your optimism about the relationship.
“Dunno — I thought he was alright when I first met him but — even then…” he trails off, casting his eyes up at the light-specked canopy of the large tree you’re both sitting under. You’d wanted to do a picnic before the weather gets too cold for one, and he’d begrudgingly agreed.
You reflect, vaguely, that you’d been seeing less and less of him these days too.
“You’re just mad that I’m spending more time with someone from Boufuurin,” you say with a determined, teasing smile. Togame fixes you with a look over his customary shades, holding your gaze till you flush and look away.
“Yeah. Sure. Maybe.”
You huff, folding your arms, “He’s not that bad! He’s actually really nice to me!”
Togame chuckles, “I believe it, it’s just… nice isn’t exactly the same as good.”
You scowl at him, “What does that even mean?” but something crystalizes in the back of your mind, hardening into a dark speck of suspicion.
You try not to think about it, try not to let it invade your thoughts — but sometimes, when you’re at the bookshop, or even when you’re home alone at night, you’d feel it — the sense that something isn’t right, that someone might be watching you.
But every time you’d turn around, you’d find yourself alone — the bookshop empty, the house quiet, except for the ancient creak of wood and the shuffle of tiny little critters beneath the floorboards.
“Why do we never go to your place?” you ask one day, over steaming bowls of noodles, the wind outside howling something fierce. Suo looks up, blinking.
He swallows his mouthful of ramen and wipes his mouth with pristine, practiced motions.
“Ah — it’s honestly a little embarrassing but… my place is a bit uh —” he shrugs, “a bit messy.”
You frown, “But… you told me that you hated mess. And there was that one time you offered to help me organize the books at the bookstore alphabetically because you said that’s how you organized them at home… right?”
Suo stares, something very much like annoyance flickering behind his eye. But a second later, he lets out a bright laugh.
“No, you’re right! It’s just — it’s not very clean right now — but if you want to see my place, you’re more welcome to see it.”
You nod, trying to convince yourself that you’d been worried for nothing.
“Yeah, I’d love to see it! And you don’t have to clean stuff up for me — I won’t judge you, I promise!” you grin, and lower your eyes back to your own bowl of ramen.
“Sure, you can come over tomorrow if you’d like,” Suo says, watching you slurp at your noodles with an indulgent grin.
You nod, flushing as you almost choke on your mouthful of noodles in your eagerness.
“Y-yeah! I’d love to! We can — we can watch that movie you were talking about.”
“Hm? Which movie?”
“Oh — that one you mentioned to Jou that one time —”
Again, that flicker of something like annoyance, sharp as a knife’s edge, and gone just as quick.
Suo’s smile is impeccable as he calls for the check, “Oh yes — it’s a great movie, one of my favorites. And I think you’ll like it too.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I will! Our tastes are so similar,” you say, grinning as the waiter brings over the check and Suo sets a stack of immaculately folded bills on the table.
“You don’t always have to pay for things, you know,” you say as he laces your hands, the pair of you ducking out into the mid-autumn chill. He reaches out to pull on your collar, adjusting your muffler, tracing the line of your cheek with an affectionate finger.
The muffler, he’d given to you as a gift only two weeks prior, saying that he’d seen it at a sale. It’s your favorite color — but just last week, you’re sure you’d passed by a storefront with the exact same muffler, touting the season’s latest fashions, with a price tag that had made your stomach drop clear out of your body.
You’d convinced yourself that there’s no way he’d spent that kind of money on a gift for you. You’re both still in school — where would he have gotten the cash? Briefly, you consider that he might’ve stolen it.
But you quickly discard that line of thought as well, berating yourself internally for doubting your own boyfriend like this.
“I know,” Suo says, grinning as he leans down for a kiss, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” And he sounds so earnest, so utterly besotted that you don’t have the heart to doubt anything else.
“You’re too good to me,” you say, shy as the pair of you start on the now familiar walk back to your tiny, two story apartment.
“Banish the notion,” Suo declares, his voice gallant, and you laugh. But he tugs you close to wrap an arm around your middle and press chilly lips to your cold-kissed cheek, “there’s no such thing.”
You flush with a delighted warmth and lean into the comfort of his embrace.
The next day, Suo brings you to his place, just as he’s promised. And just as you’d expected, it’s impeccable to the point of derision. You bite your lips, looking around at the immaculate walls and floors, the perfectly lined shelves, the cupboards stocked and stacked as if by a rather neurotic military sergeant.
“So… I’m guessing you cleaned?” you ask, setting down your bag by the door and toeing off your shoes.
Suo laughs, nodding, “Just a bit, yes.”
“A bit?”
He grins, leading you into the living room, where a tea service is set up and water is already boiling in the kitchen.
“How… what —” you’re at a loss for words as Suo kneels by the low table and washes the tea with the boiling water.
“Can you blame me? It’s my girlfriend’s first visit to my place — I had to make it perfect.”
By the time he puts on the movie, you’re already heavy with an amazing dinner and sleepy with hot tea. You lean against him, drowsing as the movie picks up and a gorgeous, dirty-blond man chats up an equally gorgeous platinum blond woman.
“Mm… which one’s the bathroom?” you ask, your voice sleepy as you totter to your feet.
“Just down the hall — second door to your right,” Suo calls.
You nod as you patter down the dark hallway, keeping one hand on the wall to steady yourself. At the first door, you twist the knob out of reflex, only to find it locked.
Frowning, you twist it again, feeling the old lock jiggling in the door frame.
Suddenly, all hints of drowisness gone, you go still, a strange, vibrating giddiness welling up inside you at the thought of seeing Suo’s bedroom.
Why would he keep it locked? What embarrassing things might you find?
You twist the doorknob slowly, putting pressure on the bottom of the knob till you feel the lock give and the door swings open into a dark, nebulous space. And with one last glance over your shoulder, you slip inside.
The bedroom is small, and neat to the point of sparseness. There’s a writing desk sitting beneath a small window, and a small bookcase tucked against the opposite wall, next to a chest of drawers.
There are no posters on the wall, but there does seem to be a map of some sort. And at first, you think it’s one of those artistic print-maps of Tokyo or some bigger city, but as your eyes adjust to the dimness, you notice tiny little flag markers, and streets that are all too familiar.
You creep closer, as if drawn by an invisible string, until you’re almost nose to nose with the map — and seeing it clearly now, your breath deadens inside your chest.
You know these streets because they’re the streets of this city — of your city, and Suo’s as well. But it’s the thin lines that connect a series of tiny flags that makes your chest go cold — spot markers of your house, your cram school, the bookstore you work at, your favorite shops and restaurants, even the park that you and Togame always go to on weekends.
And the thin lines between them — the routes you take, day in and day out, all meticulously mapped.
Dizzy, you spin around, your eyes catching on the bookshelf, where a series of little trinkets sit in succession —
An empty perfume bottle, a volume of shoujou manga, a hair tie, a pencil stub, and a single glimmering earring.
Blood thunders behind your ears as you brace yourself against the writing desk, the wood creaking slightly beneath your palms.
Your eyes catch next on the chest of drawers, and a single article of clothing crumpled, sitting at the very top — a pair of sleep shorts, thin and worn and trimmed in lace.
Yours.
“I thought you needed to use the restroom.”
You jump at the sound of Suo’s voice, soft and calm and unnaturally steady.
You press a hand to your mouth to stifle what would’ve been a scream as Suo steps into the room and closes the door with a snap behind him.
“You know… it’s not very good manners to go into someone’s bedroom without their permission.”
You lick your lips, shaking your head.
“Hayato… what —” but you can’t the words — because there are no words. Instead, you gesture at the strange collection of baubles on his shelves before turning back to motion at the giant map tacked to the wall.
Suo nods, his hands laced behind his back, his expression amiable.
“What… is all this?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you. You scramble back, but find yourself already cornered against his writing desk. He makes no sudden movements, even as you look wildly around for any kind of escape route, your heart battering against your ribs, a scream building just beneath your lungs.
“It’s… a testament, I suppose,” he says, opening his arms, sighing, “to my feelings for you —” he takes a few more steps, closing the distance between you and him in a single, shuddering heartbeat.
His eye glitters almost red in the iridescent darkness.
“Because… don’t you see?” he asks, his voice now nothing more than a whisper as he reaches out to cup your cheek. You go still beneath his touch, as a deer caught beneath the bright beam of a hunter’s light.
“It’s always been you…” he says, crooning the words into your ears as he trails his fingers along the line of your jaw down to your throat, his thumb dipping into the hollow there before his fingers dig themselves into the nape of your neck.
You let out a soft whimper, feeling the hard crescents of his finger nails as they sink into your skin.
“I love you,” he says, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as poison, “and I wanted — no… I needed you to love me too.”
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