#but it's really just a coincidence that they favor the way they do

[asheanon]

🐌 Sorry, I got thoroughly distracted earlier and meant to add onto this particular little tag! Someone asked about Amthyr, the OC mentioned here that looks a lot like the new Vincent.

In short, again, he's the mentor-like figure mentioned in Sal's bio - very significant character, honestly! He taught her most of what she knows about combat and attempted to teach her more than she could even grasp! (I.e: what she was able to grasp on, say, sword techniques? All him.) Taught her about maintaining Etherealism, etc. Comes off as a bit of a harsh teacher or even father figure to her. I'll have to write up a proper bio on him, one day. I do actually know his life story - it's something that's been in my head for years and I just haven't written it. You know how it goes, amirite, guys?

I only have older artwork of him, sadly, but... here's what I have of him anyway.~

And from waaay back in 2011...

And even older still... 🪦

🤔 Now that I actually have another look at him again, it may have just been me only vaguely remembering... but man, Vincent's new hair just instantly made me think of this guy! That and his deeper, gruffer voice. The eyes - the new chaotic eye/heterochromia deal. Some aspects of his demeanor remind me of him too...

That said, though, in my defense, Amthyr actually draws most of his inspiration from Kratos Aurion (Tales of Symphonia!) You can see more of it in the earliest rendition of him (the one with the "epic" face marking/tattoo/whatever it was.) And back then, the divergences were me being more unique and developing him... ... Then Square had to go and make Vincent look a bit like him and lead me to this crisis - which may not even be a crisis - they have their differences, still! In my head, though, they looked and seemed so much alike, I was losing my mind...!

[asleepinawell]

possibly a controversial opinion and absolutely not trying to take a shot at anyone who disagrees, but I think having portraits show up for comms at the end of a dungeon/raid is a terrible feature. great in theory but terrible in actuality. I don't care about my comm count (and couldn't tell you what it is) but it was always nice to get some in instances where I knew I'd done a kick ass job supporting the team (as a healer or rdm usually). it was people saying thank you

I'm a really average player but there's some content I know very well and can help other players in. I love helping people and it's just a good feeling when you get thanked after. like hey, I was useful! I made a contribution!

that vanished completely when portraits came out (I've done roulettes almost every day for the last 8 months due to leveling all the jobs and just enjoying it, so it was really really easy for me to track the change...there were a few exceptions but overall it was like night and day from before). (and yes, people could obviously see your glam before but having it directly in the comm ui is different)

I got a trickle back when I put some effort into making fun portraits (something I personally don't enjoy doing but felt obligated to do), but I don't play a cute cat boy or a lady with big boobs (two things I've actually seen people online say tempt them into giving comms) and my portraits are definitely not as fancy as a lot of people's and more than that it just feels like that shouldn't matter

so yeah, not a fan. actually turned them off for myself the first time they popped up because it just felt strange. leave them at the start and take them out at the end would be my best solution since, like I said, really neat idea in theory and I think people should be proud of their cool glams and show them off. but it also really sucks to be in what feels a lot like a beauty pageant

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Daedalus (Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: On the eve of Aegon’s coronation, both of you disappear. Your mother imagines a thousand scenarios. But were you really abducted by him or is it a simple coincidence?

Warnings: Pretty mild. Aegon. Some mentions of marital rape (Viserys, we are looking at you) Mature language. Infidelity (Poor Helaena) Fluff.

A/N: My first Aegon fic! Whoever manages to catch all my Greek mythology references will get a gift ;) Try to claim it in the asks, replies or reblogs.

“THE INVENTOR IS trapped.” Helaena says, sitting down by your side with her doll. She drops it to the floor as if it means nothing, and you hurry to pick the babe up. You cradle the doll in your arms and give it a toothy smile.

Your Lady Mother sighs. It’s a long-suffering sound. You are too young to understand the why, but she is looking at Helaena in a weird way.

“Why don’t you go get dressed and ask your maids to take you to the courtyard?” She asks, tapping your head with a gentle finger. You jump up, overjoyed. You have been begging your Lady Mother to go out for ages! Your twin, Aemond, is always allowed out of the nursery, but for you, it’s a rare luxury.

In your excitement about finally going to see what he does when he is not visiting, you forget about Helaena’s words.

The maids pick a pretty green dress, that looks like a miniature of the ones your mother wears. You feel really pretty in it, so you give a few spins, shrieking with laughter at how the silk skirt opens up like a flower in full bloom.

Helaena blinks from her place on the floor.

“I am scared.” She says, tugging on your mother’s skirts. “There is a beast beneath the floorboards.”

Your mother’s gaze shift from you towards Helaena. Her face twists.

“It’s fine. There is nothing there.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror, and pretend you are a Queen, too. You puff up your small chest, and push your shoulders back.

“I want to see my knight.” You say, placing your hand inside one of the hand of the maid. The woman smiles, indulgently.

Your mother laughs.

“Of course.” She gives her blessing, carefully tracing the Seven Pointed Star on your forehead. “Aemond and you are just like your uncle Gwayne and I used to be.”

“Why is he not here?” You ask her, full of youthful impertinence. You cannot fathom why your Uncle Gwayne is apart from Mother, if they are like you and Aemond. Your twin and you can never be parted, for you are two halves of a whole.

“Because, sometimes, girls are sent away from their families, to start a family of their own.” She explains, brushing your hair back.

“I will not! I will stay with Aemond.”

Your mother sighs. She looks between Helaena and you.

“The maiden will be taken.” Helaena mutters, a chubby fist coming to grasp your skirt. You pull away.

“Run off!” Your mother orders. “Before I regret it.”

So you do. Your maid takes you to the courtyard, where Aemond is training. She gestures to Ser Cole, to notify him of your arrival, and the knight bows his head in acknowledgement. You change hands as fluidly as silver dragons do.

Ser Criston is careful to prop you up a set of stairs, from where you can safely observe what your twin is doing. At eight summers, you are a quiet but cheerful girl, who doesn’t dare stray from what she knows.

The trips outside the nursery are novelties for you. As you grow old, you will come to realize your mother was frightened by Helaena’s odd behavior, and didn’t want to let you out of her sight for very long in case you turned out like her. But unlike your siblings, you are no dreamer and you are no dragonrider.

You will build wings of your own, one day. But you do not yet know that, do you?

Currently, you do not dare stray away from the perch the ever watchful Ser Criston has placed you in. You like Ser Criston. He is a knight, and wears your mother’s favor each time there is a tournament. You find him very handsome, and like the idea of your mother having a protector on him.

Your own protector is Aemond. He says one day he will grow into a knight and slay all those that mock you for not having a dragon. You love your brother. He has kind eyes, and steady hands. He never minds playing dolls with you.

He is now busy playing with his own dolls, though. You feel a bit confused because you would never treat yours like that. He hacks at them with his sword, whacking them so hard some straw starts to come out of them. You frown.

Aemond will later tell you these are not dolls, but rather practice opponents, filled with the righteous fury boys get when accused of acting like girls. You do not know what is so shameful about it.

As you watch him, oblivious to the rest of the world, a heavy hand falls on your shoulder, making you jump.

“So mother finally left you out of the nursery, huh?” A boy, older than you and Aemond, ruffles your hair. You squeak, trying to get away. You had sat still for nearly an hour for the maids to braid you a crown like the ones your mother wore. He isn’t going to ruin it.

You take pride in imitating mother. You wear her slippers, sometimes, and practice your curtsies until they look just like the graceful drop she does when you see the King. One day, you will perfect them, but for now, your tiny knees and short legs don’t quite allow it.

“Prince Aegon!” Ser Criston interrupts, rescuing you from the older boy. “Leave the Princess alone! Come, you and the other… Princes are late.”

You stare at the boy with interest. So this is Aegon. Your older brother, the one that never bothers with visiting the nursery. Your mother and grandsire speak of him in hushed tones, and Aemond is much more open about his disdain. He is meant to be a rowdy boy, forever teasing him.

You get the feeling he might be one of the boys that Aemond intends to slay when you are older. You are not too sure why Aegon would mock him for not having a dragon. No one mocks you, and you don’t have one either.

“Is Helaena coming too?” Aegon drawls. He doesn’t seem much enthused by the prospect. Probably because he thinks girls are icky. Aemond has told you so, especially when you want to cuddle.

You pout. No one is paying attention to you, Aemond too focused on his exercises and Aegon and Ser Criston carrying a whole conversation over your head.

“No, Princess Helaena is…” But whatever Ser Criston is about to say is interrupted because two brown haired boys are running in, carrying their swords. His face sours, twisting in the same way mother’s does when Helaena says something strange. “You are late.”

“Hello!” The bigger boy says, stopping in front of you. He has dark eyes and hair, so different from your siblings and Ser Criston. He looks a bit like mother, actually, and it makes you jealous. “You are Aemond’s twin?”

The mention of your beloved brother brings you out of your sulk.

“I am!” You are proud of your older brother. So much, you do not even mind being known as his twin. He is an accomplished prince, and very nice to you.

“She does have a name.” Aemond steps in, setting down his sword. Always your protector. “And it should be Princess to you.”

“I am a Prince too!” The boy is very cheerful. The notion makes you frown. You do not know a Prince or King with dark hair, but you have heard in Dorne there is a royal family who has it, so maybe he is from there. “Will you stay to watch us train?”

“I came to see Aemond.” You explain, meeting his eyes over this other prince's head. Your brother gives a smug little smile. “I’ll stay if he does.”

“In that case, can I have your favor, my Princess?” The other prince asks you, face serious. Ser Criston looks like he is tasting something bitter. You aren’t too sure why.

“This is not a tournament. Now, if we may begin…”

“Oh, Cole, let the boys have their fun.” The tallest, hugest man you have ever seen, says. He appears to have just entered the courtyard, and you watch, amazed, as he squats next to you. “Aren’t you going to be a little heartbreaker when you grow up?”

He boops your nose, making you giggle. You find you like his eyes.

“Of course you are here, Strong. Late, too.” Ser Criston looks even more annoyed. Aegon giggles. Aemond continues hacking at the doll. You wonder if you asked, they would let you try. “I am not bringing the Princess to practice again if the boys can’t focus.”

That makes you sad. You wish to come back, especially because you had never thought the world outside your nursery could be so fascinating. There are foreign princes, and giants, and knights, and Aemond. You have to know more.

“It’s not her fault.” The giant defends you. You decide that you like him already. “Prince Jacaerys is just curious. Let’s indulge him. You favor, little lady, to your knight?”

You giggle. The thought of giving your favor is an exciting one. You will be just like mother with Ser Criston, even if this is no real tourney!

“Are you serious?” Aegon asks, to no one in particular. “This is foolish.”

You check your pockets, but you have nothing beyond a few dust bunnies.

“I don’t have a ribbon. Or a handkerchief.”

“Here.” The giant says, and very delicately cuts a strip off your sleeve. You watch in amazement as he twists it and turns it into a ribbon. He presents it to you with a flourish.

“You cannot do that to the Princess!” Ser Criston intercedes, picking you up. He places you against the wall. His face is angry. “Enough!”

Suddenly, a guilty thought strikes you. Aemond is still hacking at his doll, shoulders set in a tense line. You came to watch him, not this boy. You have to support your twin.

“Ser Criston?” Your voice is small. You fear upsetting the knight further. “Can we give half my favor to Aemond?”

Aegon looks at you. He steps closer, and examines your face as if you are a particularly interesting creature.

“Why would you want to give your favor to him?” He complains. “He doesn’t even have a dragon, and he is at most four feet. Not much for a knight, is he?”

It angers you, how he dares make fun of your twin. Aemond suffers deeply the lack of a dragon, just as you do. Your jaw clenches, baby teeth clanking together with how hard you grit them.

“He is mine.” You turn towards Aegon, words failing you to convey exactly how much you support and root for your brother. “I am sure he will win.”

Something passes in Aegon’s eyes. Something like the look Aemond gets when there are talks of dragons, or the one you used to get when thinking of spending time outside the nursery and lessons. But it only lasts a second, and then he is tugging on the strip of cloth that has been cut from your dress.

“One for me, too. Wish me luck, sweet sister.”

“THE CITY HAS been turned upside down, my Queen.” Ser Criston says, frowning. “There is no sign of them.”

Alicent collapses in her loveseat, her knees falling to hold her. Her poor, precious girl. The one more like her, the kindest one. The perfect half and companion to Aemond.

Aegon had taken you, in an unexpected show of wickedness. Oh, that devious Aegon. She would say the crown had gone to his head, but he had barely had time to learn of his father’s death before fleeing the Red Keep.

It was all her fault. If Alicent had been firmer, if she had put a stop to his transgression earlier, he would not have dared abduct you. But she had been too lenient, excusing his deviance in his Targaryen blood, and refused to act when she found him touching himself in windows, or fondling the serving girls.

Oh, but to take such liberties with one’s sister! Oh! He would have never dared, had she not encouraged the match with Helaena. It was no wonder he had turned towards you, and thought himself with the right to take. Alicent herself was to blame. She should have never allowed it.

She lifts her hands to her temples, massaging them.

“Good Gods, what will we do?”

Where are you? Where has he taken you? Some coin is missing, and so are some of your cloaks and dresses. Your wretched brother, impulsive as he was, had planned this to the detail.

The clothes suggested something long term. Permanent. Alicent can’t bear the thought. What depravities does he plan to subject you to? Is he beating you? Threatening you? Keeping you bound? Her mind is driving her mad, imagining scenarios upon scenarios, each worse than the last.

“I think we should inform the Lord Hand.” Ser Criston hesitates. Alicent understands it all too well. Her first instinct had been running to her father. With his resources, he was bound to find you faster than the ragtag team of Ser Criston, Aemond and her. But then, she had thought of what he would do when he had his hands on you.

What is a Princess to a King? What is a girl to the Iron Throne? Her father had already answered that question once, and Alicent had suffered greatly for it. He had been willing to risk her honor to place her sons on the throne. He would torch yours if it meant sitting Aegon in that ugly chair.

She had always thought she was sparing you, by keeping you unmarried. After seeing Helaena’s misery in her marriage to Aegon, and her own torture at Viserys’ hands, she had hoped to save you from that same fate. Things would have been so different if she had married you off.

You would be safe. Either in a castle far away from King’s Landing, or under your twin’s watchful eye. Aemond had grown into a violent man, a terrifying one, but remained loving towards his sisters. Aegon would have had better luck stealing you from the Cannibal than from under his vigilance.

It was all her fault. If she had married you to him, you would be here, with her. If she closes her eyes, Alicent can see you still. Sitting on the windowsill, humming a catchy tune from Volantis. Mending your brother’s shirts alongside her. Laying with your head on her lap, talking about the latest developments of the Citadel.

But instead, you are the Seven know where, being brutalized by your older brother. On your hands and knees, or with your head shoved in a pillow, crying as he does as he pleases with your body and unable to run back home.

“Has Aemond found out anything?” Alicent asks Criston, as he offers her a handkerchief. She had not realized tears were leaking down her cheeks. Embarrassed by her display, she wipes them angrily.

“The Prince… The King is not at his usual haunts. Prince Aemond offered to scour Essos, but I fear…” The knight looks clearly uncomfortable at the thought. Alicent understands. If Vhagar is seen over Essos, both continents will know something is amiss. Not to mention, the essosi won’t take kindly to dragons in their sky. Some wounds are too fresh to be truly forgotten.

“We won’t be able to keep it concealed if we do.” Alicent purses her lips, trying to find a suitable solution. When she comes up blank, she decides she has no other choice. They are wasting precious hours already, precious hours Aegon might be using to brutalize you, or to take you further away from House Targaryen’s influence. “Inform the Lord Hand. Tell him the King has taken his sister, and that both Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena will scour Essos.”

“But that means leaving the Red Keep unprotected!” Ser Criston protests. Alicent stares at him. She had known that the succession issue might turn into war for quite some time, but she cannot bring herself to care about it now. The threat of Rhaenyra seems far away, not quite real. A villain from a storybook. It’s much different from the actual threat on your life. Aegon.

Alicent had never thought she would have to fight her son to spare the rest of you. You, from dishonor. Helaena, from the embarrassment and shame. Her grandsons, from the rumors that will sure surface.

But it has come to this. And let it be known that when Alicent Hightower goes to war, she does so in bright-green flames. There is no hiding, no pretense. She will send her best soldier, and sniff Aegon out like the dog he is.

“If Dreamfyre is left behind, it’s the same as if she goes. My daughter is no warrior.” She is referring to Helaena, but deep in her heart, she knows neither of you are. Alicent is frightened by the thought of you breaking and her finding you too late to stop it. “Perhaps, both dragons will find them faster.”

“The Lord Hand will not…” Ser Criston says, uncomfortable. Alicent shakes her head. Despite his help all these years, he is no parent. If he were, he would realize that it doesn’t matter, whether Rhaenyra decides to burn Westeros to the ground or take the Red Keep. Alicent only cares about her children’s safety.

“I do not care. We will bring them back.”

Ser Criston makes a face.

“Perhaps it would be unwise to say that the King took his sister. We do not know if she…”

Alicent sees red. Does he dare deny it? Does he dare place the blame on your shoulders?

“The King took his sister. My daughter is a dutiful young woman, just like her twin. I will not have you drag her name through the mud!” She shrieks, slamming her hand down on the table. “How dare you!”

It’s a universal truth. Kings are born with grasping hands, and the thought that everything is theirs to take. And when you are a woman, no matter how modest, you cannot escape their attention once you are set in their sights. Alicent had tried once, to escape a King’s notice. But his hands had been too big, and she so small, and he had grasped at her, squeezing until she was unable to move.

Ser Criston looks concerned. He takes the verbal lashing without complaint, even if his eyes tell her he disagrees. But Alicent knows the truth, and it is enough. He is not a woman. He is not a mother. His opinion doesn’t matter.

“Of course.” Ser Criston bows his head, and begins to exit the rooms. “I’ll inform the Lord Hand, my Queen.”

The platitude sounds empty in her ears. Man that he is, he is no longer concerned with your honor but Aegon’s. Your grandfather will be the same. They will destroy your reputation only to save his.

It won’t happen again. Alicent thinks of Viserys’ hands, grasping her hips. Of how she had cried, forced to engage in acts no maiden should be exposed to. Of how she had to keep quiet, carry this great shame of hers because it was her King who ordered it.

But Viserys is dead. Alicent won’t be silent any longer. She grasps a lantern, and her sturdiest boots, and begins to patrol King’s Landing herself.

They will say later that the Queen dowager walked a thousand days and a thousand nights, searching for her daughter. And that she never stopped lighting the candles on your windowsill, not even when Queen Rhaenyra took the Red Keep, not even when the Prince Aemond was vanished after telling her upsetting news. When asked why, her words were simple.

“So she can always know her path home.”

THE WEDDING FEAST is not as grand as the one celebrated when your older sister married, but it is to be expected. Aegon is not heir to anything, regardless of your mother and grandsire say.

You had watched the whole ceremony from one of the benches inside the City’s Sept. Aemond had sat by you, tenderly holding a few handkerchiefs, just in case you started bawling. Most of them have been used by your mother, but you thank his gesture regardless.

There is not much to cry about, truly. Aegon and Helaena are nothing like the pictures of happiness mother described to you when talking of newlyweds. In fact, as Aegon changed Helaena’s cloak, she looked ready to bolt. And he looked miserable.

“Do you think we will marry too?” You ask Aemond, quietly. Ever since he has claimed Vhagar, he has grown more serious and brooding, shedding the last of his childhood innocence. He is a bit terrifying, now, which you think is wicked.

Your Strong nephews no longer mock him so easily. You are all the more glad for it. He would make a worthy husband, capable of protecting you. Or so mother says.

“If we are ordered to.” He answers, squeezing your hand. His face contorts into a strange mix of unbearable fondness and disgust. “Is it such a bad prospect? I heard talk of betrothing you to a Lannister.”

That had been your grandsire’s suggestion. Pawning you off for gold. Literally. At ten and two years of age, you were considered a comely maiden, with the regal Targaryen hair and none of the strange habits of your older sisters. It made you quite a commodity.

“Better a dragon riding husband than a lion of the Rock.” You smirk at Aemond, voice pitched low enough no one can hear you. “We could ride on Vhagar and find out if the world is flat or a sphere, as some Maesters say.”

The thought is enticing to you. A life spent learning the mysteries and secrets of the world that surrounds you. Getting to see far beyond the walls of the Red Keep.

Once, your prison had been a nursery. Now, it was a labyrinth made from red stone.

“I want more glory for my life than being a traveler. I want to leave fame and memory when I die.” Aemond complains. “Besides, the Lannister marriage may do you some good. You would be a Queen in everything but name. A much more secure….”

You shush him before he can say it. Your mother sits on his other side, absorbed by the wedding taking place, and ridding Aemond of the handkerchiefs he had brought for you. It would do no good to point out her failures when she is already that emotional.

Still, Aemond’s words linger around the two of you, silence charged. Marrying a Lannister would be a more secure position than the one afforded to Helaena.

“I like you better.” You finally say, before your mother can notice the lapse in conversation between the two of you.

“I suppose, if I had to… I rather it be you.” Aemond sounds still a bit disgusted by the notion. You know it has less to do with you, and much more to do with his inability to admit he has emotions. Knowing that trying to wrangle an admission of fondness out of him is useless, you decide to focus on the new couple.

“They don’t seem as comforted.” You point out, watching them exit the Sept hand in hand. Helaena is deadly pale, probably at the thought of consummation. You think if it were you marrying Aemond, you wouldn’t be as worried as she is. Being a twin means your built is pretty similar, so he cannot make cruel jokes about your appearance without insulting himself.

Aegon, though, seems much more cruel.

“Yet again, they are not us. We are closer.” Aemond takes your hand and helps you get up from the bench. The two of you wait patiently for the Sept to empty a bit before trying to make your exit. If you have one thing in common, it is that you both despise crowds.

“Wouldn’t that make it harder?” Because you think of having to muster up arousal to bed Aemond, and suddenly, the thought of marrying him doesn’t seem as palatable.

But before Aemond can answer you, probably making a mockery of your sentimentality and your inattention to your lessons, your grandsire interrupts you. He waves a hand to both of you, enthusiastically, as if you were about to run off.

Aemond and you exchange a glance. Your mother stops sniffling.

“What are you two youngsters up to?” He asks, as he reaches you. He gives each a little shove, and you grit your teeth not to let your annoyance show. “Come, to the carriages. You must attend the feast.”

“We know, grandfather. Aemond was escorting me.”

“Of course, young Aemond, ever the dutiful brother.” Your grandsire claps his hand on Aemond’s shoulder. “And you, my dear, the spitting image of your mother. Some could learn from you.”

He gives a glance to the entrance of the Sept, but the couple has already departed. You eye him in suspicion. Otto Hightower never says things without a reason. He must want something.

“Well, it is no matter. You should sit at the newlyweds' side tonight. Perhaps you might curb your siblings' impulses.” And there it is. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. It would be unladylike.

“It shall be done as you say.” Aemond says, and begins leading you to a carriage. He helps you up, careful not to let your puffy green skirts track into the mud. You are wearing a new dress, cut similarly to the ones your mother wears. You have recently flowered, and are enjoying the novelty of wearing grown up styles. The two of you settle across your mother and grandsire.

The night goes downhill from there. Aemond ends up seated next to Helaena, his intimidating figure helping ensure she doesn’t run and no one tries anything funny during the bedding. You end up next to Aegon, with the difficult task of stopping him from getting drunk.

You had heard once a story about a man condemned to roll a giant rock up a mountain, only for it to fall back down when he was reaching the top. The memory feels fitting. You imagine he must have been as miserable as you are. As soon as you snatch a goblet from Aegon’s hand, he is reaching for another.

The mummers are boring, the same old spectacle seen in all Westerosi weddings. A play about the Conquest, with a man who looks nothing like the Conqueror as the male lead. With how loud the musical parts are, you cannot even converse with Aegon.

So when you are at the edge of your wits when it comes to methods to stop him, you gesture for a servant to bring you parchment and a quill. Aegon pauses his drinking, if only to observe what are you trying to write during a wedding.

The note is simple, and prompts a scowl out of him.

Stop drinking. You are embarrassing Helaena.

For a second, it seems like he is going to ignore you. Then, he yanks the quill out of your hand, and messily scribbles.

Mother, you mean.

You have to lean in to write on the parchment, since he is childishly refusing to let go of it. Your eyes meet his. It strikes you, then, how young he looks, despite being the eldest. He has one of those faces, round and sweet, just like your mother’s. When he smiles, half drunk, he reminds you of a deviant cherub.

In a year’s time, you could be welcoming your first nephew. Aegon looks barely out of childhood himself. Even Aemond looks more grown up.

Her, too.

Aegon notices you are studying him, and looks away, uncomfortable. He still replies.

Why do you think I do it?

There is no longer any space in the parchment, so you take out a fresh one. You pen with careful letters, trying not to waste as much space as you did with the previous one.

Do you ever feel like you need to run away from everything?

All the time, sweet sister.

You stare at the words, feeling like you have discovered something you cannot yet name. But before you can match the intuition to an actual concept, someone is calling for the bedding, and Aegon stands up, mask firmly on. He makes a show of it, leering and hooting, much to Helaena’s discomfort.

The moment of vulnerability is lost, and all that is left is the note you hold inside your clenched fist.

AEMOND IS TASKED with finding you, a task that enrages him and fills him with pride in equal parts. He is torn between the hash feeling of your betrayal, of your abandonment, and the fact that he has been tasked with something of such importance. Finally, time for him to prove his worth.

But oh, your betrayal stings. It’s not like he is surprised, having known that you intended to travel the known world, but he is bothered that you didn’t seem fit to inform him. Aemond is the other half of your soul, after all.

At least you had taken Aegon with you, removing an obstacle for his path to the Iron Throne. When he caught up with you, he might forgive you only for that. He had the best motive, after all. Protecting his sister was an honorable excuse to save him from the title of Kinslayer.

With Aegon dead, he would force you to wed him, saving you from dishonor. It would be your punishment for leaving. Aemond would enjoy your enraged face as you were forced to sit with him on the Iron Throne. Unlike Aegon, he didn’t want to bed you, but he enjoyed annoying you for sport. Nothing would annoy you more than being forced to be Queen.

His sweet sister. His milk and cream sister. Aemond had been so worried at first. He had bought on Mother’s crazy theories, thinking you were abducted against your will or whisked to a pillow house in Lys, like it had happened to that Swann lady a few years back.

Then, he realized the absurdity of it all. He had checked the dragonpit first when sent to pursue you. Sunfyre was gone, and Aemond had known this had been your plan all along.

Truly. How foolish Mother was, to think you, Aemond’s other half, could be subdued by Aegon. You were not Helaena. You were made of sterner stuff. Pure Valyrian steel.

Besides, he had heard all about how you needed a dragonrider to take you around the world during your childhood. You had proposed it to Aemond plenty of times. If anyone was abducted, it was probably Aegon. In a strike of brilliance, you had strengthened your beloved twin position and got to take the vacation you had been moaning about ever since you knew how to talk.

His biggest clue about it had been the lack of clues left in your wake. The escape had been too well planned to be born out of Aegon’s head. No dragonkeeper recalled unchaining Sunfyre, yet it was clear someone did because dragons don’t take flight on their own while chained.

No key was missing. No one saw anything the night the two of you vanished. Aemond decides to check Flea Bottom, but he already knows that no trace of you will be found there. This has your fingertips all over it, and even if it didn’t, Aegon was too devoted to you to take you there. He was no Daemon Targaryen, no matter what your mother thought.

This is how he knows it: A secret he has kept for years because it had suited him to do so.

When both of you had been four and ten, your mother had taken you to visit Daeron in Oldtown. Since neither you nor her were dragonriders, Vhagar had been left behind. The journey had taken weeks, almost an entire moon. And there was, of course, the three moons you had spent there, exploring your mother’s childhood home.

The months of the road had changed both of you. During that time, Aemond had actually needed to begin shaving, if he didn’t want to walk around with three miserable hairs on his chin. He had also hit a growth spurt, shooting up like a weed, and his shoulders filled.

In contrast, your changes had been much more dignified. You had stayed the same height, a fact he had used to mock you for ages. Your hips had filled, and you had suddenly grown teats.

The night of your arrival, you had been upset. There had been a mix-up, and the dress commissioned for you to wear on the welcome feast had been made to your old measurements. You had not been able to squeeze into it, and had cried ugly tears in Aemond’s bedroom, refusing to leave because you had gotten fat.

Your mother had solved the problem, of course. She had dug out one of her old dresses, belonging to her mother before her. It was a black one, sequined and embroidered in such a manner it emulated the flames of Hightower. You were enchanted. Called it a priceless heirloom, and danced the night away.

The dress had elicited mixed reactions. Your father and grandfather had both stumbled, as they were seeing a ghost. But Aegon? Aegon loved it.

You had turned into a woman, and looked and behaved so much like mother….

He had been unable to keep his eyes from you during dinner, salivating over you despite having his lady wife next to him. Helaena had been uncaring, not particularly interested in what Aegon did. She had done her duty, having birthed him babes already.

Helaena had been happy to see you, and told you all about the collection of bug-embroidered napkins she had been making for you in the meanwhile. Perhaps your excitement over getting a gift from your sister, prompting you to chatter endlessly with the couple, had been what confused Aegon.

Aemond had kept a careful watch on his brother, noticing that for once, he seemed to be drinking little. A measly two goblets, when usually, he took four. Instead of gorging himself on the drink, he had been gorging himself in you.

His eyes wandered all night. Drinking in your new teats, still blossoming for you were just a girl. Your pretty arse, thanks to the days spent riding horses to get back home. And he had thought himself entitled enough to do the unspeakable.

You had gotten up so you could pass the bread to your mother, when Aegon glanced at your prone form, and gave you a hearty slap on the arse.

The noise had resonated in the hall, making everyone freeze. You had started crying immediately, embarrassed, while Mother berated Aegon. Helaena and Aemond had exchanged a look, both too stunned by the display to speak.

The rest of the guests watched, before laughter rang across the silent hall. It was Daemon, lifting a cup to Aegon. The other guests followed in the merriment, laughing at the fondling you had just received.

Your face had crumpled. More tears fell, face red from public humiliation. It was a feeling Aemond was intimately familiar with, and couldn’t stand to see in his beloved twin’s face. You gathered your skirts and fled the hall, your perfect night ruined.

Aemond had lunged then, grabbing his brother by the collar.

“How dare you dishonor our sisters so!”

But Aegon was standing already, and running after you. He was a tad uncoordinated from the wine, but managed to catch up, Aemond hot on his heels.

Oh, when he got his hands on him, he was going to kill him, Aemond had thought. Daring to pursue you to humiliate you further!

You were huddled in an alcove, hands pressed to your mouth to muffle your cries. At the sight of you, Aegon had looked like someone had struck him.

“I… Apologies, sweet sister… I…” Aemond had never heard him stammer such, much less apologizing for his deviant behavior. He had even leered at Helaena during his own bedding, by the Seven! “I confused you with a serving girl and I…”

You had looked at him, eyes full of betrayal. It was how Aemond imagined he must have looked just before he had lost his eye. You had not spoken a word, shoving both of them in favor of running off again.

Aegon had never touched another girl after that. No longer servants were being dismissed from the Red Keep, with small cups of Moon Tea. No longer Helaena cried because he had visited her drunk. Even the whoring had gone down to reasonable levels.

It was why Aemond doubted you were in as much danger as your mother thought.

YOU BEGIN TO spend more time around Aegon. After that upsetting night, you had chosen to believe in his apology. It hadn’t been as bad, really. Just a spank, that had blown out of proportion when your uncle had laughed.

Your mother had noticed that Aegon had reacted to your consternation in a manner he had not to her scoldings over the years, so she had asked you to keep an eye on him. You find out it is no hardship. He cannot anticipate your every thought like Aemond, but it is expected. He is not your twin.

He is much more fun, willing to engage in any silly games you come up with. Aemond no longer has the patience for them, but Aegon does. Or perhaps he is just feeling guilty. You do not particularly care, as long as you get a companion.

You sit next to him at meals, and ask him to join you for tea in the gardens daily. He stops complaining about there not being any wine after the first moon of your routine. Exercise and sunlight do wonders for his mood, too.

Your newest game consists on slipping him notes during the day, exchanging them in the corridors as you bump shoulders and pretend not to know each other, or tucking them in the pockets of his doublets. Aegon even slips you some back, into the pockets of your cloaks.

You love it. You feel like you are partaking in some sort of courtly intrigue. Exchanging secrets while no one looks, carrying a conversation no one is privy to. You should burn them afterwards, Aegon says, to make it more real, but you find yourself holding on to the notes and saving them.

You will show them to Jaehera and Jaehaerys when they are older. Perhaps the twins will develop a secret language of their own, like Aegon and you. Or perhaps they will become more like Aemond and you, twisted mirrors of each other. Whichever they are, you are sure they will be great. The coin flipped right with them, you can feel it.

Aegon waits patiently for you to tire of playing spies, like you do from all else. You do not have a good track record, with a short attention span and an overeager imagination. You have ceased in your attempts to learn to play Cyvasse, invent a card game, and implement a new communication method using kittens. You had even attempted once to train a bird, but had grown frightened when it started bringing you rats as presents. This, too, shall pass.

He is mistaken. Three moons go by, and you are still at it.

“Isn’t it a bit silly?” He asks you, when it's clear you weren’t going to tire of the game soon. “Passing me messages as if we are spies, when you could just speak to me?”

You cannot explain to him the secret thrill you get every time you see him, the swooping feeling in your stomach when he appears in the hallways and calls you his sweet sister. Much less, how at night you lay in bed, and hold the notes tight against your chest, close to your heart.

How you reread the jokes and the compliments, and imagine him next to you, speaking them into your ear.

It's wrong. Aegon is a married man. And yet… Yet. You have always been the perfect daughter, mirror to Aemond in your dutifulness. A pious lady, respectful of the Seven and her elders. You can have this small thing, surely.

You cannot voice it. He would find it odd, he would no longer want your company. So instead, you give him a secret, coquettish smile. It’s an expression you have seen on your half sister’s lovely mouth, when she bends men to her will. You have stolen it, sharpened, made it deadly.

“Indulge me, brother.”

And Aegon looks at you, and his breath catches. It’s only for a second, but it feels like an eternity. You hear it, the pause of his even breaths, his pulse quickening. You would know him by heartbeat alone, this brother of yours.

“You are a child.” Aegon complains, after clearing his throat.

“Yes. And so are you.” You poke him in the ribs, forcing him to jump to avoid you. It makes you laugh.

“I am a man grown.” Aegon argues, trying to sound dignified.

You pause. You remember your mother’s words, asking you to guide him onto the right path. He is just a boy, underneath it all. Young, foolish and hurting. No one has ever paid him attention, so he acts out to obtain it.

Aemond and you resort to other, more unconventional methods. Both of you do everything right, and pretend not to need anyone.

To this day, your father hasn’t noticed either of you.

But perhaps, you can help him. Give him what he requires and help your mother too.

“I will believe you when I see it. Whoring, drinking. That is not what men do.” You scold, softly.

“Daemon does.” Aegon’s brows furrow, as if sensing a reprimand. You can tell that if you do not hurry, he will sour to you as he has to your mother.

“Does father? Grandsire?” You challenge.

“I do not want to be like them.” He confesses. You take his hands in yours.

“Neither do I. But if we wish to be different, we need to be sober.” And while Aegon looks unhappy, he still squeezes your hands back. “I need you to be.”

He has to do it for himself one day, but for now, he can do it for you.

HELAENA AND AEMOND give chase for days. Their mother sends them in the same direction, but with opposite instructions. While Helaena is not supposed to venture too deep into Essos, Aemond is supposed to scour the farthest Free Cities.

Their meeting date is two weeks into their travels, in the last of Helaena’s destinations. Volantis is as colorful as it is beautiful, and Aemond finds himself fascinated by the sights. He has to agree with you, the world is full of wonderful places just begging to be seen.

Helaena has stationed Dreamfyre at the edge of the city. She comes with a few trusted guards, while Aemond travels alone. He doesn’t need protection when he has Vhagar.

“No success?” He asks her, as he dismounts. They do not dare go further on dragonback, as to not upset the citizens. Starting a war with the Free Cities is the last thing they need right now.

“I heard a rumor.” Helaena says, sliding off Dreamfyre’s back as if it were nothing. Aemond marvels at it. Despite being so ungraceful on land, Helaena looks like a true queen on dragonback. Like she belongs here, and not like she walks a path between realms that would be unfathomable for any man. “About a silver girl and her gold dragon.”

“What do you make of it?” Aemond asks her, hoping she will speak plainly. He also hopes she is not hurt by the news. He was never good at comforting people.

Helaena isn’t the most affectionate of his siblings, but she loves in her own way. Aegon is the father of her children. Some love might be there. Any woman would be furious to hear her husband has run off with her sister. It’s an insult so low, Aemond wonders how she is keeping herself together.

“The rats won’t come for us now.” She answers him, cryptically. Her expression is calm. If she is bothered by what her siblings have done, Helaena doesn’t show it. “Best to keep them there. They can’t touch them there.”

“Who is they, Helaena?” He prods, gently. His sister doesn’t answer. She pets Dreamfyre and gets that faraway look she sometimes wears, when a picture it’s forming in her mind and she can’t quite express it.

Aemond remembers a story about a seer, cursed to walk the earth sprouting prophecies no one believed in but that always ran true. He wonders if dragon dreams are a curse of their own, making those who see the future unable to communicate it.

“I want to find them.” He pleads, holding her by the shoulders. “Please, Hel, this is important.”

Helaena looks at him. Or through him. Aemond doesn’t know. What does she see when she stares at his features? What threads of fate do the Seven weave for him? Helaena can probably read his tapestry, but she would never tell him.

She takes her time, examining his features in search of something. Her shoulders slump under his hold.

“Spare them their chains, Aemond.”

So Helaena knows where you are. They. Aegon and you. But this time, it is not that she cannot tell him. It’s that she won’t.

“Just to see them.” He lets go of her shoulders to grab her hands instead. Helaena’s hands are cold and clammy under his. Aemond knows physical contact bothers her, but he cannot help himself. He needs to know. There is a hunger in him, gnawing at his bones, consuming his flesh. It might devour him alive, if he doesn’t make sure you left willingly. “Will I succeed?”

“The maiden no longer walks alone. The King has taken her. Now she is a Queen, and feasts in a garden full of delights.” Helaena squeezes his hands. Do you understand? Her eyes seem to say, do you understand what I am telling you?

Solve my riddle. Figure it out. For I cannot, I will not tell you more.

Aemond knows this story too. About an older man, who nobody loved, who takes a younger woman and makes her his Queen.

“Did she go willingly?” Aemond asks her because the versions of the story vary, and he doesn’t exactly know which one she is referencing.

Helaena smiles at him, full of pity. Poor man, who understands nothing.

“You may walk out of the Seven Hells, after seeing the one you love. But you will turn back.”

Aemond stares. Helaena climbs back up on Dreamfyre and departs, leaving him standing there.

YOU LAY IN the gardens, feeling sun drunk. Your cheeks are red from the heat. The grass is staining your dress, but you do not care. The warmth feels so good against you, so nice and inviting. Your eyelids drop. Resting your eyes for a few minutes can’t hurt, right?

“Again?” An amused voice says. You open your eyes to look at Aegon. He carries two goblets in his hands.

“It’s so warm.” You mutter. You don’t question how he has found you. Earlier this morning, when you slipped him a note, you mentioned you would be in the gardens. In the Red Keep, immense as it is, that could mean anywhere. But you always find yourself under the same trees.

Your spot, as Aegon calls it. You like it because the trees are positioned just so as to protect your eyes from sunlight, but not the rest of your body. You can read without being blinded, but also nap in the sun.

“Mother says princesses shouldn’t tan.” He sits beside you, handing you a goblet. It’s full of cold water. “You are not some commoner working the fields.”

“Mm.” You mutter, still sleepy. You understand cats so well, sleeping under the sun rays. You wish you were a cat to nap all day in a windowsill and be hand-fed morsels. That sounds like a great life.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Aegon sounds amused, and it’s then you realize you didn’t share those thoughts with him. Did you spoke them aloud? “Yes, you did. Get up, you are getting heat stroke. Drink your water.”

You obey him, sipping at your goblet. The coldness from the water helps you clear your head, and notice that your face feels hot, and your chest is red.

“Not again.” You complain, tucking yourself more into the shadow the tree produces. Aegon simply watches you, a smirk on his lips. “Mother will murder me.”

“I warned you.” He laughs at your expression, a petulant mix of a pout and a scowl. “Drink. I want to teach you a card game while you cool down enough to be presentable.”

Aegon aids you drink from your goblet, careful to not let the water spill. He tucks your sweaty hair behind your ears. Meanwhile, you marvel at how much he has changed, during these years.

He is still undeniably fun, much more than Aemond or you. But he is no longer drunk all the time, and spends his time trying to get you to lighten up and learn new diversions. You like this version of Aegon, who calls you his sweet sister still, but whose face has lost the bloated look alcoholics have. He looks healthier, hair thicker, dark circles less pronounced.

You have been trying to make him work on his tan. He refuses. Your serious nature has not rubbed on him, but he is healthier and treats you with the utmost kindness.

“I would like to learn how to bet.” You tell him, confidently. Truth is, you want to go for another ride on Sunfyre. He has grown just enough to carry two riders, and you miss flying. Aemond no longer takes you in Vhagar, more focused on martial exercises.

If you manage to win a bet, perhaps you can claim a ride on Sunfyre as your prize. Aegon is wary of taking you again because last time, mother had caught you and scolded you until your ears were ringing.

“Betting, sweet sister…” Aegon sips from his goblet, giving you a half smile. “It’s an art one cannot learn in one afternoon. Depends on the game you are playing.”

“An art? By the Seven, I never knew Flea Bottom was full of artists! Someone should tell Daemon, for he has been a real patron of the arts and never knew.” You say, tone flat.

Aegon snorts so hard, the water comes out through his nose. You laugh.

“As I was saying, depends on the game. With cards, you look at them, but if there are cocks involved…” His tone turns lecherous. You gasp, outraged. You are not a prude, but dirty jokes still embarrass you. Were it not by how sunburned you are, you are sure a blush would already be present on your face.

“Um, hello, as in the animal!” Aegon tells you, as if it were obvious. There is a telling little dimple in his face, though, one he gets when he is fighting laughter. “Get your mind off the gutter. What would mother say?”

“Oh.” You say, eloquently. Is he being serious? He has not burst out laughing yet, so he might be, and his amusement could be out of your dirty thoughts. You feel even worse. Perhaps your mind is really in the gutter.

“Those, you choose carefully. Look for the bigger. The girthier…” You shriek in indignation, not allowing him to keep speaking. You hate being so gullible. He always gets you.

“Shut up! I thought you were being serious!” You tackle him, beginning to tickle his sides. When the two of you stop laughing, Aegon places his arm for you to use as a pillow and you curl into him. The two of you nap under the trees the rest of the day.

He has found out a better way to get drunk by the end of the afternoon.

ALICENT IS AT the end of her tether. She hasn’t slept in days. Every time she lays down, she imagines the terrible violations you must be being subjected to. Her poor girl, forced to submit to her deviant brother’s whims.

The pictures in her head won’t let her sleep. They remind her of another young girl, barely of age, taken by a Targaryen King. Being summoned, asked to lay still and spread her legs. To bear it with a grin. To sacrifice herself for the good of the realm, for her family.

Her honor, broken. Her sister believing her a whore. Warming the bed where another bleed.

A dutiful daughter. A dutiful wife. A dutiful whore. Nursing him by day, working over him at night, until her thighs hurt, and she thought, is this what being a Queen is like? She had not felt Queen of anything, except the Seven Hells.

Whore, mother, daughter, wife. It makes no difference. Girls, all over the world, were just vessels for men. Even Princesses, even Queens.

Despite Aemond’s reassurances that you are probably fine, and that Aegon would never hurt you, Alicent cannot stop herself from worrying. Aemond doesn’t know what she does, after all.

Deep within her heart, to take to her grave, she carries a secret. A dark secret. One Aemond is not privy to. Alicent doesn’t dare tell him, either. It would mean further stain on your honor, and more anguish to your twin.

It’s better only she knows. This way, it’s her burden alone. It will not drag you down, or worry your siblings. Safe within the confines of her mind, the secret cannot hurt anyone.

Inside Oldtown, there is the Hightower. In the highest tower there is, next to the powder used to change the color of the flames atop the beacon, is another box. The box has three locks, and a chain wrapped around it, for good measure. It’s made of pure valyrian steel.

Inside the box, Alicent keeps the secret: She had caught Aegon kissing you once.

It had been shortly before your father’s death. You had been helping with the preparations for receiving Rhaenyra and her sons, overseeing the cleaning of the locked rooms. Alicent had tasked you with the responsibility, and you, her brilliant, dutiful girl, had not disappointed.

She doesn’t remember why she had been looking for you. Perhaps, to ask you about where you intended to place the babes, if in the old nursery or in the rooms set aside for their parents. She does remember it had been early afternoon.

The door had been open, so Alicent had not knocked. Alicent had entered Rhaenyra’s old chambers to find your brother crowding you against a wall. Aegon held you in a passionate embrace, his hands helping themselves to your hips and buttocks.

Your dress was bunched up around your waist, and your hips darted nervously from side to side, surely trying to avoid his touch. You were yowling like a kitten, hands pushing on his shoulders.

Alicent heard your distressed cries, your twitchy little movements, and saw red.

“How dare you!” She screamed, uncaring if someone else heard her. Aegon jumped away from you as if your touch burned you.

You had wiped your mouth, face red.

“Mother… I… I am so sorry…” You were so ashamed, so small, and you had reminded her so much of herself it hurt her. The nights where her father ordered her to go to the King, and she couldn’t refuse. How she had been told fighting wasn’t ladylike, that she had to submit to men, let them throw her around as if she were a thing and not a person.

It filled her with rage. It made her want to scratch Aegon’s eyes off with her own nails. Throw herself to the floor, and scream loud and never stop.

“Don’t say a word, my love! Aegon, how could you!”

It was anger, and pain, but also guilt. Guilt, because she knew what Aegon had been up to with the serving girls. Because Alicent had encouraged him to see his sister as a woman, and not a simple sibling. Because she had taught you the same things that she had been taught, that you weren’t to resist or fight, that you were to bear it all with a grin.

Her poor, poor girl. If she had given you a sword, would you have defended yourself? Screamed? Pushed him off?

But instead of a shield and a sword against the world, she had handed you a mirror and forced to make your peace with it. Only Alicent was to blame.

“Mother…” You tried again, tears coming to your eyes.

“Go to Aemond. Now.” Alicent had ordered. She had then berated Aegon until he confessed everything was his fault, and slapped him for his attempt on his sister’s virtue.

She wished she had gelded him, then. A King with no heirs would have been one of the usual tragedies, just like girls being hurt were. None would have merited more than a footnote in the history of Westeros.

YOU ARE COMING of age, and the whole realm is celebrating. Twins are unusual, and the royal family being blessed with two pairs in two generations merits some celebration.

Both Aemond and you have managed to survive until adulthood, a marvel on itself. Sometimes, it felt as if you wouldn’t make it. Especially Aemond, after claiming the biggest dragon in Westeros and losing his eye. You worried about your twin, sometimes.

As always, you embrace the frivolity with gusto. You commission a gown for the occasion, and dance with every single person attending the feast. Not even your father had been spared, holding you close and swaying to the music before growing too weak.

Your grandsire, despite his objections, had been dragged into the merriment too. As had Daemon, your nephews, your twin, your brothers, your friends, and your sister. Twirling in the makeshift dance floor, you had been the life of the feast, allowing Aemond to quietly brood.

Everyone was enchanted by the beautiful princess, and her joyful manners. There was already talk of how lovely a bride you would make, and how happy your future Lord Husband would be with you by his side.

But you wanted none of it. You had started to develop conflicting feelings for Aegon, and wished to untangle them first, before thinking of marriage.

In truth, you didn’t imagine a life outside the Red Keep, one where you had children and stayed in the same place forever, even in death.

When you dared to dream, you always saw yourself on dragonback.

When Ser Martyn Reyne asks you for a dance, you do not hesitate. You agree to let him twirl you between the tables because he is a friend of Aegon. Even if you do not like the way he smiles at you, like he wants to eat you whole.

It is then you hear it and your smile freezes.

After you dance, you go get a refreshment, and noticing you haven’t danced with Aegon yet, you approach the group he is with. Ser Martyn is also there, well on the way to being drunk.

“And I swear, your sister has the prettiest teats in the Seven Kingdoms!” He bellows, before burping.

You cannot see Aegon’s expression from where you stand. His back is turned to you. The other men have not noticed you yet, so you creep closer. Has he gone back to his old ways? Your heart feels like it’s breaking, but you need to know. Especially if these new feelings are what you think they are.

He had started kissing you, recently. But you cannot tell if this is just a game to him or if it is more. You cannot risk it. You have to know. Your childhood infatuation with him has grown teeth, nails, and become a monster that threatens to devour you. He is a married man, but the heart doesn’t know of vows or Septons. It only knows of want.

“Bet she is a little freak, just like your brother. I know her cunt must be so sweet, too. Princesses are meant to be.” This is Eddard Waters. You know he is one of your brother’s friends, and even more boisterous than the others.

“And you intend to sample her, then?” Ser Martyn asks him. You make a face. As if you would let any of these fools between your legs.

“You know what they say… The wettest the cunt, the…” But whatever rude thing Water was going to say is lost because Aegon punches him in the face.

It’s glorious. It’s ridiculous. Your brother fights like a commoner, slamming the wine jug on his friend’s head. A brawl breaks out around you, more people jumping in trying to separate the Prince from the knights, as he screams, bites and trashes.

“My sister is off limits!” He screams, fiercely. Aemond materializes by your side, tugging you away from the fight that has ruined your nameday feast, but you stay there.

Even as he throws you over his shoulder, and gets you out, not hesitating to unsheat his sword to get you to safety, you stay there.

Looking at Aegon holding his knuckles, probably having broken them. He has never been good at fighting.

Looking at Aegon, standing up to his friends for the first time in years. For you.

It strikes you then, standing in the middle of the Hall, as if it were lighting. You love him. You love him.

Love. You love him, and it changes everything.

How can people speak of love as a choice, when in reality it is an arrow that strikes you, lighting hitting you in the middle of a storm? When it roots you to a spot, and shatters all your bones? Choice. As if. You do not choose Jaehaerys, you do not choose your Daemon. You do not choose the rain that will soak you to the bone as you leave the hall.

WHEN AEMOND FINALLY finds you, you are holding to Aegon’s hand as the two of you stroll through a market in Braavos. There, your features aren’t as recognizable.

He sees it, then. Not with his eye, but with his heart. Out of all the possibilities, he had been right.

The silver girl, with her golden dragon. Spurring him up, higher, faster, further. And while wax melts, dragons do not burn.

You look happy. There is a playful smile on your face, when you tug on Aegon’s hand and force him to run, Aemond hot on your heels.

He vows to remember you as you are, his fierce, brave twin. Your ferocious grin as you disappeared into an alleyway, twisted towards a gate, whistled loudly.

“Tell mother I chose to run. Not Aegon.”

And then you are running towards Sunfyre, Aegon helping you mount. Aemond, having not dared bring Vhagar inside the city, doesn't follow.

He has to inform his mother. She refuses to believe in his words, thinking he is doing her a kindness, fabricating the story of a couple in love, of a runaway Princess.

But with the clarity of death, she decides to visit your rooms one last time. Despite her aches and pains, and the recommendations of the Maesters.

The eve before Queen Alicent’s death, something compels her to get out of her bed and search your old rooms. The pain doesn’t let her sleep, tortures her at night. Her own mind is a labyrinth that traps her, filled with monsters that will kill her.

The first one reads:

Everything is as you had left it. In this place, no time has passed. And beneath the bed, in a box, she finds it. The tale of your romance.

Do you ever feel like you need to run away from everything?

Underneath your elegant scrawl, Aegon’s chicken-like letters answer,

They say she died of a broken heart, in her old age. But perhaps, and just perhaps, knowing the truth set her free.

All the time, sweet sister.

[hanoxoxo]

A Heart Unoticed

Warnings: None! Just a Regina who is interested in y/n! Regina George x f!reader

Summary: Regina George has taken interest on the soft spoken, oblivious girl on the school.

A/N: I am obsessed with this girl! So I'll do us all a favor, and write about her!

North Shore High School buzzed with its usual activity as students hurried to their classes. Among them was you, quietly navigating the halls with a gentle smile, your focus entirely on your phone clutched in your hand. You were known for your soft-spoken nature and kind heart, a stark contrast to the queen bee of the school, Regina George.

Regina had always been an enigma to you. Despite her intimidating reputation, she had been paying more attention to you lately. You often caught her looking your way in class, her icy blue eyes softening when they met yours. But you chalked it up to coincidence, never imagining that Regina George could have a crush on someone like you.

One afternoon, as you were putting your books in your locker, Regina approached. Her usual entourage was nowhere to be seen, and she looked almost nervous.

"Hey, can we talk?" she asked, her voice unusually soft.You blinked, surprised. "Sure, Regina. What’s up?"She glanced around the bustling hallway, then grabbed your hand, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Not here. Follow me. "Curious and a little apprehensive, you allowed her to lead you down a quieter hallway and into an empty janitor's closet. She closed the door behind you, the small space suddenly feeling very intimate.

You could feel the tension in the air as Regina leaned against the door, taking a deep breath. "Regina, what’s going on?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.She looked at you, her eyes searching your face for a moment before she spoke. "You really have no idea, do you? "You frowned, confused. "Idea about what? "Regina took a step closer, her gaze intense. "About how I feel."Your heart skipped a beat. "How you feel?"She sighed, running a hand through her perfectly styled hair. "I have a crush on you, okay? And it’s driving me crazy that you don’t seem to notice."Your eyes widened in shock. "You… you have a crush on me?"Regina nodded, her expression vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. "Yes. I like you, and I don’t know how else to make you see it."You stood there, stunned and unsure of what to say. Regina George, the most popular and feared girl in school, liked you. It seemed unbelievable.

"Why me?" you asked softly.She took another step closer, her voice gentle. "Because you're kind and sweet and you don’t judge people. You see the good in everyone, even me. And that makes you different."Your heart swelled at her words, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. "I… I don’t know what to say." Regina reached out, her fingers brushing your cheek. "You don’t have to say anything. Just… tell me how you feel."You looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. It was a side of Regina you never imagined existed. Slowly, you reached up and took her hand in yours, squeezing it gently."I never thought someone like you could like someone like me," you admitted. "But… I think I like you too."

A slow smile spread across Regina’s face, and she took the final step to close the distance between you. Her free hand cupped your cheek, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss.You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around her as you responded. The kiss was gentle, filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building up between you. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. "Wow," you whispered. Regina chuckled softly, her thumb caressing your cheek. "I know.." Regina smirked.

You stayed there in the quiet intimacy of the janitor’s closet, holding each other close. In that moment, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought or said. You had found something real and unexpected with Regina George, and you were ready to see where it would take you.

A/N: if you have any requests, please let me know! ❤️

[wheneclipsefalls]

Grovel Part 3

Pairing: Aged up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Grovel Masterlist

Warnings: aged up characters, past cheating, angst, mentions of blood, trauma, nightmares, description of injuries and death, war flashbacks, fear, swearing, drinking, etc.

Summary: Lo'ak is everywhere all at once.

A/N: Sooo...a little unsure about how the writing quality of this turned out but I hope you enjoy anyways. oh also I really don't know how or why I made this chapter so long haha

“And that speech…” Talu paused to give a wistful sigh. Words were not necessary to convey how romantic she thought Lo’ak’s courting proposal was. “Sister I can only hope for the same from Neteyam soon.” The sparkling grin she threw your way proved to be anything but envious, cheeks tinting into a happy shade. 

Your own returned smile was mediocre at best, fingers still running over the mysterious pieces of your new top. No, of your new courting gift. That would never stop feeling strange, especially knowing it had come from a man that you had written off as a memory so long ago. If Talu sensed your apprehension, she didn’t show it. Nothing could stop her giddy babbling as she went about straightening your shared kelku. 

“I admit, I would not have guessed Lo’ak to be the first of the two to profess such feelings but then again this is my sister we are talking about.” Her eyes shined with pure admiration and love. “He would be a true skxawng to not tuck away his childish hesitations in favor of chasing such a gem.” 

“Talu-” You go to reprimand her dramatics but it falls on deaf ears. 

“And just think, with any luck our matings could coincide and then before you know it our children will be learning to hunt together. We could even create a connected kelku. I’ve seen a few families do it before!”

“Is that not a little much?”

Talu squealed, feet kicking like a small child. It was hard to cut off such ramblings when she was in this state. So truly disconnected from the judgments of others, letting her joy flow from her without reserve. 

“It is like becoming sisters all over again. Double sisters even. Or…” She paused thoughtfully. “However you say it.” 

“I don’t think there is such a term.” You muttered, tucking away the healing ointments into a basket. That sparkling top still lay across the floor of the marui. It had no place in your home, or at least you didn’t know where it would be. Even heaped across the floor it felt far too grand in this humble abode. 

“How have you not tried it on?” Talu gasped, kneeling down to carefully collect the garment as if handling a rare gem. “Go on! It will look dazzling on you, I know it!” 

You reared back, fingers twirling nervously away from where she offered it to you. 

“I don’t know if I will.” 

“Why not?” Talu’s head tilted to the side, tail dashing back and forth in anticipation. “Don’t worry about breaking it. I can help you get it on carefully.” 

A small smile curved at her kind invitation but you no longer knew how else to respond to her new enthusiasm. You had no interest in explaining and consequently reliving the events of you and Lo’ak’s history but neither did you want her fantasy of your twinned mating to blow out of proportion. 

“What I mean is I don’t know if I will wear it at all. Lo’ak’s courting…well…I don’t think I will accept.” 

Her ears dropped immediately, eyes widening as her tail came to a halt. Talu didn’t wait for an explanation. 

“I do not understand. Was his presentation not…sufficient?” 

You were shaking her head before she even finished. Scrambling back down to your knees to meet her at eye level. 

“No, of course it was but…I am not sure whether or not I would like to accept his courting in general. Lo’ak can be very…” You paused, searching for the right words that would get her desperate attention off of you while properly masking the past. “Annoying,” you finished lamely.

“Annoying?!” A laugh of disbelief coated the word. Her tail swooped up slightly and a spark of hope surfaced again. “By Eywa, what are you talking about?”

You knew it was the wrong choice of words the second they left your mouth. Hoping to conceal your heated blush you hastened back into straightening the room. 

“What do you mean by that?” She rephrased.

“Well Lo’ak has always been a little headstrong and…loud…and….oh he always called me names and pulled at my tail-”

It was difficult to continue now with Talu’s rampant giggling filling the room.

“All of those reasons are from when you were children. Of course he was not great for the nerves, no boy was at that time, but it has been years.” Amusement danced in her eyes, that level of disappointment already washed away. It’s not as if you could blame her truthfully. Your reasoning was lacking at best. 

“Give the male a chance to show he has changed. If his appearance is anything to go off of then we know at least one thing has changed-”

“Talu!” You hissed, chucking a woven blanket at her. Your sister’s laughter did not subside as it made contact and she dramatically rolled to the floor. Despite her suggestive joke you couldn’t help but find her joy contagious and before you knew it both of you were bursting at the seams until your stomachs ached. 

“Lo’ak has his work cut out for him. It will take more than pretty words and a few tattoos to win my sister.” She finally spoke once you were starting to catch your breath. There was no mistaking the pride in her tone. “As it should be.” She reassured you, placing a hand atop her head before exiting the kelku. 

Neteyam’s proposal came mere days later. You wondered if part of the rush was due to being upstaged by his brother but that theory was set to the side when you witnessed Lo’ak’s helping hand in the festivities. He had been the one to set off the glowing plants at the end of Neteyam’s speech, painting eclipse in a vibrant glow that washed over the smiling couple. And when Talu had given her joyful, yet contained, acceptance, Lo’ak had smiled at you from the bushes. 

Gifts came pouring in left and right, your front doorstep littered with fresh kills, baskets, berries, and woven ornaments every other day. Each gift was specifically marked from each brother, obvious that neither wanted the credit for their work to be placed on their sibling. It was almost humorous were it not for the guilt you felt in disposing of your gifts hastily. 

Talu had given you a fair share of glares when you had passed off the neat meals to some neighboring families or tied small trinkets into some of the little girl’s hair in the village. No one knew that they were from the youngest Sully son but Talu’s disapproval was enough to make you hesitate at times. And yet, that first beautiful garment remained draped over your table at home without being touched for days. 

Despite her common persuading, Talu often brushed off your resistance as your way of playing hard to get. The looks she would exchange with Neteyam when Lo’ak was brought up had your intuition sparking. You wouldn’t put it past your older sister to conspire with the eldest Sully son in the ways of helping Lo’ak woo you. 

Those suspicions were borderline confirmed as the gifts switched to very specific items and fruits that caught your fancy. One morning in particular you had woken up to your mouth watering at the smell of peanut butter coming from the entrance. Such a rare delicacy that the Sully’s had introduced you to so many years ago, your senses had become quickly attuned to its pull. 

So you ate it.

Tucked away in the corner of the marui where you could shovel it into your mouth without judgment, but you had eaten it all the same. And as the last glob of strange texture stuck to your tongue it was becoming harder and harder to feel guilty for indulging in the pleasure. 

So you stopped.

From then on out when the gifts came you sorted them into trinkets that would be shoved away and repurposed to treats you would allow yourself to enjoy. Lo’ak dropped off meals so often that it became almost unnecessary to join communal dinner. Although you would never admit it, you couldn’t resist the slowly cooked meat or even the fish that he had seasoned and prepared in such a unique way you could only associate it with him. All the same, you let yourself have it.

After all, if he wanted to waste his time hunting and foraging for your delight every day that was his prerogative. And what you did with those free offerings was yours. 

A bitter part of you couldn’t help but feel satisfied by the constant effort he was putting in. Perhaps this is what he truly deserved after breaking your heart. He could race across the forest every day trying to win your affections without result and maybe that would finally teach him to handle people’s hearts more carefully. 

In any case, this obsession would subside sooner or later and he would be chasing after another girl. Until then, it seemed logical to enjoy the splendors while you could. 

However it became increasingly more difficult to avoid his presence as the gifts poured in, especially in the company of others. Some days it felt as if Lo’ak was everywhere all at once. Helping a clan member move into their marui, joining the afternoon hunting party, taking notes at his father’s meetings. The list went on and on. It was more than you expected for the youngest son of the Olo’eyktan to have. 

And Lo’ak never missed a day. You never woke to an empty threshold and he never stopped averting his attention your way no matter the situation. Even if some days all he could afford was a loving gaze, one that made your stomach turn itself inside out. 

Your fingertips had grown wrinkly under the river’s current as you continued to scrubs at the cloth viciously. So many to get through cleaning for the healer’s tent before you could sufficiently rest from today’s labors. Still…you remembered a time where it was worse. So much worse. 

It was never too late to count your blessings. 

“The orange would look good!”

Your ears perked, recognizing the voice although it had changed over the years. Sweet Tuktirey emerged from the treeline, her older brother in tow. It was difficult to wrap your mind around how much the girl had grown since the Sully’s departure. Where once skipped a tiny optimistic child of sunshine now bloomed a beautiful young woman on the precipice of adulthood. Still only a teenager, Tuk had seen more than most people should in their early years.

It was a relief to find that the trials of war failed to dim her light. 

“I don’t need another one.” Lo’ak insisted.

Your scrubbing intensified but your breath held. Perhaps they wouldn’t see you. 

“Just a small one right here.” Tuk halted her brother sternly before carefully selecting a stray braid to bring forward. “It would look so pretty!” She giggled and Lo’ak scoffed.

“Pretty? What type of vibe do you think I’m going for?” Hands on his hips and eyes narrowing it was still easy to see the glimmer of teasing there. It only made Tuk laugh harder. 

“Whatever it is, it's too late to save you from it now.” The words barely left her lips before a shriek followed and she was racing away from her brother’s chase after her tail. The edges of your lips curved upwards. “Lo’ak!” She screeched, now trying to elbow her way out of his grasp. 

They wrestled along the rocky shore until his younger sister was gasping for a truce. Dopey grins matched as the two finally broke away to collect themselves. Your eyes refused to be diligent as you kept forcing them back at your task. 

Their laughter died down suspiciously quick and through the gentle breeze you could just barely pick up on whispering. The weight of their attention bore down on you. The scrubbing picked up tenfold. There are still three rags left but maybe-

“Y/N!” Tuk called, practically skipping your direction. There was no hope in hiding now.

You flipped over in mock surprise, a warm grin naturally taking place as you saw her rush your way. 

“Hi Tuk.” Infusing friendliness into your tone and body language you tried to keep your eyes pinned on the younger Na’vi and not her shadow that followed behind. 

“What are you doing?” She immediately swooped in to kneel beside you. 

“Tuk, don’t bother her.” Lo’ak called, gently jogging to catch up. His hair was down today, decorated braids swinging with every step. 

“I’m not bothering her!” She shot back with a huff as he came to a halt before them. Lo’ak’s dark eyebrows dropped, giving his sister a doubtful look. 

“She is fine.” You gave a firm assurance but purposefully veered your attention back at the sudsy rag. Otherwise you were sure to notice insignificant details like the return of his battle band and the way it gave a further optical illusion of his slim waist. 

“Are these from grandmother’s tent?” Tuk gestured to the pile of rags. 

“Just giving them a quick wash.” 

“All by yourself?” Her surprise at such a thing warmed your heart, even more so as she reached to grab one of the rags.

“Oh no, Tuk. It is alright. I can manage.” Your concerns are quickly shushed as she swats your hand away. “I don’t want to make you late.” 

From the look on Lo’ak’s face that is exactly what was going to happen. Whatever engagement they were currently going to was sure to be starting soon. 

“Well…” She dropped the rag, pausing for a moment. “I can’t really stay long…”

“Do not worry.” You laughed softly, placing a hand on her arm but there was a flicker of mischief in her smile. 

“But Lo’ak can help!” Within one yank to his arm she had her older brother falling to his knees. 

“Oh no Tu-”

“He’s great at washing rags! Best in our family, actually.” 

The bizarre lie almost had your panic melting into humor. You expected Lo’ak to intervene again but despite the roll of his eyes and reprimanding look shot Tuk’s way, he was already shifting to get comfortable and reach for the next rag. 

“No, really.” You caught the rag from his fingertips and alongside it his gaze as well. Pools of gold studied you with a diligence that made your skin burn. 

“I can walk myself the rest of the way.” Tuk happily chirped, rising to her feet. Ripping the cloth away you scrambled to gather the rest of the supplies. It didn’t help when two four-fingered hands gently helped you gather the mess silently. 

“I appreciate it, Tuk, but I really should head back as well.” 

Her shoulders dropped. Within a stride Lo’ak was in your space. Instinct almost had you reeling backwards before you realized it was to simply hand over the rest of the supplies. 

“We can walk you.” He offered, voice warm and smooth like falling molasses. 

“No thank you.” Two steps backwards and your lungs could finally fill with air not drenched in his essence. 

“But you’ll be at the party tonight, right?” Tuk perked over his shoulder, eyes wide and already on her toes for an answer.

“Party?” 

“More of a small get together, near the old shack.” Lo’ak corrected. 

“Anything but small. There will be food and music and an excuse to dress up.” Her hairless brows wiggled, a glee that was intoxicating. 

“I don’t know I-”

“Oh you can wear that new top! I’ve been dying to see it on someone! Lo’ak would barely let me look at it while he was making it, let alone try it on.” Supple lips formed into a pout.

“Okayyy,” He drawled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Tuk shrunk under the weight, squirming as he began to pull her back. “I think you’ve bugged the poor woman enough.” 

She hissed back at him, ducking under his arm to be released. A few comments shot between the two in English but Tuk reluctantly began to inch away. 

“We do hope you can make it.” There those eyes were again, studying you for any change. Perhaps he was waiting to see if you would shout, run off, even raise a hand at him. If so, it would be a relief to see him finally catching on to his standing with you. “Call for me if you need help. I will come.”He promised and Tuk quickly ran up to wave goodbye.

 Just as you thought the coast was clear, making your way upshore, footsteps came up fast. You turned and startled slightly to find Lo’ak so close again. He held something wrapped in leaves. 

Lo’ak held it up with a half grin. 

“Lunch, paskalin [honey].” Before you could shoot back your protests he had it tied to your bag strap and was jogging away. You watched his retreat longer that you would have cared to admit. Not your fault. Lo’ak had a way of catching you off guard. That’s all it was, you told yourself. It had nothing to do with the way sunlight danced across his shoulder blades. 

Lo’ak made it seem like attending tonight’s party was optional. A stance that Talu clearly did not share as she braided small flowers into your hair. You could try to convince her otherwise, maybe even make up a lie but you knew better than to underestimate Talu’s ability to shackle you into social events. When she had an idea in her head nothing would sway her away. 

Yet another reason your theory of her aiding the younger Sully son concerned you. Although you’d hate to believe it, it would surely only take witnessing a few of her conversations with Neteyam to confirm such meddling. And with how often Neteyam swept her away, there was simply too much time for scheming to take place. 

“Don’t you think it is a little rude not to wear it?” Talu huffed, holding the sparkling top out to you. The same one a certain Sully had gifted.  

“Seems more rude to give him false hope by wearing it.” 

“Oh come now, you can’t seriously claim there is no hope for him to cling to.” Talu rolled her eyes, carefully turning each piece of the top so it laid in the right direction. When faced with your deadpanned expression she let out a sight, shoulders dropping. “I’m just saying it would match nicely with the flowers.”

“I’m wearing the purple vines.” You reiterated, eyes narrowing.

“Alright alright,” She carefully laid down the garment and turned to show her surrender. “Have it your way.” 

It would be foolish to believe that her acceptance would be anything more than short lived. Bracing yourself for the night ahead you carefully dressed and began crafting a game plan. Anything that would keep Lo’ak off your back and therefore sail you through the party swiftly. 

Tuk was right. This ‘small gathering’ was anything but intimate. While it was clear that not all clan members were not invited, it was obvious which demographic they were catering to. Almost every young single warrior, healer, and gatherer had shown up with dazzling garments and the motivation to whisk the night into a frenzy. Frankly it was surprising that Tuk’tirey was allowed at this party at all. 

Then again, she came with three taller, older escorts flanking her sides. 

You could practically feel Talu’s grin, although she strategically turned to hide it. She had a way with men that seemed to serve her well. Never reveal your cards too early. 

It was a success for as far as you could tell because the future Olo’eyktan barely made out simple greetings as his eyes were drawn back to your sister like a moth to flame. It was starting to get uncomfortable. And although you couldn’t be more happy for your sister, it became clear that taking your turns around the gathering would serve you better. 

The old shack was something you had never ventured to see. As children with the Sullys you had refused to get anywhere near it. Even now as it was almost entirely swallowed by Eywa’s forest and your friends served drinks from inside, it felt as if hallowed spirits still drifted through its ugly halls. There were too many memories held in that strange kelku. And while none of them were yours, the familiar RDA symbols had it feeling all too personal. 

Steering away from the looming structure you found solace in a circle of young females. Most were warriors that you had little interaction with but you had spent enough time Penyau in the healer’s tent to consider her a friend, so her presence was sufficient. You were only half listening as the topic flowed from upcoming gatherings to new gems found in the nears caves. Nothing that you were interested in chiming in on but the circle of females were your armor against Lo’ak. And that’s all that mattered. 

At least, that is what you assumed until a finger was tapping you on the shoulder. 

A flurry of golden eyes immediately snapped to the space behind you. It was clear who stood there even before you turned around. 

“Good evening, sisters. Do I mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment?”

“More than a moment if you’d like.” One female responded with a suggestive smirk and that earned her a series of giggling laughter. It gave Lo’ak more than enough courage to lead you away. 

Once out of their ear shot there was no more reason to play nice. 

“Dinner.” Lo’ak said simply, gently handing over the leaf of meat. 

His gentle expression was met with a scowl.

“I can get my own food, Lo’ak. I am in no need of being fed like a child.” Although, the food was currently being served inside of the shack and you would rather starve than set foot in there. However, that information was none of Lo’ak’s business. 

“Of course you do not need it, paskalin.” His deep chuckle was accompanied by a smile that was far too resilient. “But I have committed to courting you and part of that is proving my ability to provide. So as far as I’m concerned I will treat you as if that responsibility has already fallen on my shoulders.” 

“Well, it’s not.” Sharp words and a quick shove had your hands empty once more. Although his tail drooped there was an indistinguishable flame of determination present in his countenance. This man was going to be the death of you. “And I’m not hungry.” 

“Too full from the peanut butter?” He guessed with a crooked smile. It cracked your composure for a split second. Both of those dark eyebrows raised. They taunted you because one way or another Lo’ak had come to figure out the truth and he knew there was no way to refute it. 

Jaw clenched and arms crossed, your eyes flashed back with that same fervent challenge. Even as that handsome face threatened to melt you into a puddle you held your ground. How arrogant could he be to still dare showing his face at you like this after everything? Those white teeth on display as if he had won the prize. Beaded braids pulled up into a neat bun to show off his defined shoulders and chest like a true whore. Wearing that frayed tewng that danced like true seduction in the wind as if he would be getting anything close to lucky tonight. 

It was baffling to try and understand where he got such nerve. 

“Well if you are so persistent on making yourself useful then maybe you should shift your efforts towards getting me a drink instead.” It wasn’t often that you partook in strong drink. The idea often felt childish and pointless. Tonight however….tonight it sounded like an Eywa-send in getting through these interactions. 

Anything that would soar you through this nightmare would be welcomed with open arms. 

“Of course, tanhi.” Lo’ak shook his head with a fond grin. 

Before he could depart however, you caught his arm. He halted immediately. 

“From there.” You pointed towards the furthest corner of the shack. A small gaggle of Na’vi were sprawled out across the floor in giggling fits. It was clear from the look in their eyes that not a single worry could fall upon them. Their drink was strong, no doubt about it. 

“You don’t want that.” 

“And how do you know?”

Lo’ak set the food down to mimic your stance, arms flexed as they crossed. 

“That shit will knock you into next week.”

“And you somehow know that is what I don’t like?” You challenged. “Who's to say I don’t drink it on the regular? Unless you somehow had ways of stalking me all the way from Awa’atlu.” 

You expected him to sigh and admit defeat with reluctance. Maybe throw in a few claims to battle your own but Lo’ak was never one to meet your expectations. He took two strides forward. He had no right to invade your space but somehow the idea of stepping back looked like defeat. 

“That, paskalin, is from Awa’atlu. I should know because I brought it. And I will tell you honestly that pxir [type of alcohol] is nothing like the sweet drinks we make here. It is mostly drunk by men two times your size.” Lo’ak tucked a curl behind your ear. “It will fuck you up.” 

It was not the first time Lo’ak had your teeth grinding to the point of your jaw aching, and you feared it would neither be the last. Even as children he had a way of getting under your skin, tugging at your hair, making teasing comments that had you hissing back at him. That special skill had not been lost, but now…now you knew how to deal with cocky Sully men. 

“I don’t remember asking for the lineage, skxawng.” Your nimble fingers drew your thick hair over one shoulder. “But if you don’t want to get it for me, I’m sure I could find another capable suitor that will.” 

To his credit, Lo’ak’s mask stayed in place. It was the rising of his shoulders that gave away your success. A deep breath was drawn into his lung and that smile waivered like grinding gears that had grown rusty. It shifted into something resembling more of a sarcastic grin. 

“Fine.” He huffed, his show of pearly whites demonstrating anything but joy. “Have it your way, tanhi.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he went to retrieve a share of pxir. He couldn’t return soon enough. If you had to endure his intoxicating scent and teasing grin for one more moment without aid, the night would end in violence. Lo’ak kept his own small bowl of drink after handing you one. 

He waited, watching you closely. Perhaps he thought you were going to back out. A small voice in your head said that it might have been best but it was too late to retreat now. So with the best mask of confidence you could muster, you held the bowl up in cheers and took a large gulp. 

The taste was fowl!

Absolutely horrific as it seethed your throat with fire. How did any of the Metkayina chose such a drink in full consciousness? Lo’ak patted your back as you choked on the few remaining drops that had gone down the wrong tube. The gesture was quickly swatted away. Your own annoyance only rising as you looked down to see that he had already finished his bowl in silence. 

“It’s a shock to the system I know…no Y/N don’t-”

Three more gulps and that scorching fire was settled in your stomach and the bowl empty. Your nose tingled like it was about to erupt as your eyes squeezed shut. 

“Woah hey, easy there.”

“Another.” Your tone came out like gravel as you handed him the bowl. 

“Uh yeah right.” He scoffed, taking it away. The liquid only spiked your courage, pushing you to face the male head on but then…it unfortunately had you sense of gravity shifting as well. Lo’ak quickly wrapped a securing arm around your waist as you stumbled a few steps. Shit, this stuff worked fast. “Here, eat something.” 

He brought a piece of yerik meat to your lips and that made you squirm to get away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snipped.

“Pxir is worse on an empty stomach, trust me.” 

“That easy huh?”

Lo’ak sighed, bringing the food down. “Okay I deserved that but-”

“I don’t want your food, Lo’ak.” There was still enough coordination left to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and stomp to the other side of the gathering. In all fairness, the ground did move side to side with every step but you managed just the same. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape him even while dancing. Toruk Makto’s youngest son remained leaned against a tree on the outskirts, eyes pinned on you diligently. It felt as if you could never get a break from his weighted presence. Why was he not enjoying the party like everyone else? Was it really worth skipping out on getting drunk with old friends just to babysit you?

Walking, let alone dancing, was a struggle but you made a crooked path to him as fast as you could, one hand pushing against his chest. Lo’ak barely flinched.

“You’re watching me.” You accused him. 

“First experience with Metkayina alcohol requires supervision.” 

“And you have to do it from the shadows like a stalker?�� Your words were already slurring together but it was hard to tell if that was how it sounded out loud or simply the distortions of your inhibited brain. 

“I’d be more than happy to keep a closer eye on you but it seemed like you wanted space.” He shrugged, eyes darting to where you swayed back and forth. 

“You’re right. I do.” One pointed finger stabbed at his chest with each word. Eywa, he was so warm. 

His mouth opened to treat you to yet again his annoyingly low baritone but then….

“Your sister is calling you.” 

Your claim had his brows raising before slowly turning around to look. It seemed that Eywa was on your side tonight after all because Tuktirey was in fact trying to get down one of her beaded chains from a high branch. How it got up there was a mystery to you but one that you had no interest in solving. 

A forced breath puffed from his nose before he turned back towards you.

“Just,” His lips pressed into a thin line, ears tucking back. “Stay here. Eat something.” That leaf of meat was tucked into your hand before Lo’ak was stalking towards his younger sister. 

As if.

You carelessly flung the leaf away, taking in this new breath of freedom. Eywa only knew where Talu was and conversing with the girls once more no longer seemed appealing but there was still one thing on your mind. The same thing that would erase all other thoughts and help you survive. 

Lo’ak had taken his share of the pxir with him so you were forced to find your own means of acquiring some. Going into the old shack was still not on your agenda but surely you could think of some plan before getting there. And just like that an idea hit you.

Quite literally. 

The male let out a small grunt as you incidentally knocked into him. Immediately strong arms were steadying you back into place with a half hearted laugh.

“Apologies, sister. Woah hey, you got it?” The male was tall and strong, a wall of muscle with a battle band meaning he must have been a warrior. His features held a flame of familiarity but you couldn’t recall his name. However, looking down at the bowl in his hand you realized he perfectly met your two requirements. 

He wasn’t Lo’ak.

He had pxir. 

“Irayo [thank you], I’m just a little…knocked off my axis.” 

He had a pleasing smile. And his braids were shiny. A few clumsy bats of your lashes and the male was already rising to play the hero. He guided you carefully to a stump where you could sit, saying another quiet apology and offering his services. 

“There isn’t anything I can do for you?” At first you figured he was nothing more than a sweet gentleman who somehow got his hands on the strong drink by luck. However, when your eyes locked with his you could see the faintest tremble of a smirk wanting to take place. 

Not too well behaved after all. 

Just what the doctor ordered. 

“Well, I am a little thirsty.” You couldn’t quite remember what a seductive expression would look like and doing that while riding the line of innocence and suggestive was nothing more than a train wreck. 

He wasn’t picky though. 

Neither was his price high as he brought you bowl after bowl of strong drink. The two of you began to make games out of it. Seeing who could drink the fastest. Seeing who could still stand up straight. These little contests became funnier with every sip, although this mysterious man had size on his side and therefore started to smoke your ass at every game. 

You couldn’t remember how you made it back to the dance floor. You weren’t even sure if you were doing anything more than swaying in place but it didn’t really matter when you had him to cling on to. The drinks kept coming even as your head grew heavy and eyes blurry until the scene was just pretty streaks of color. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him take a sip but he never asked you to stop, making trip after trip for more.

A wave of victory washed over you upon spotting Lo’ak’s scowl from the sidelines. This was the perfect plan indeed. So perfect that you must not have been that drunk after all. You had the Sully boy off of your ass and a handsome male keeping you from falling down as you drank away the worries. 

At some point in time you recalled heated voices coming from above. Another taller frame pressing against your opposite side until you are sandwiched. The heat of wandering hands. Your giggles that rang in your ears in such a funny way it had you laughing again. 

It was warm. Oh so warm.

And his hair danced in the breeze beneath your fingertips, shells and beads clinking together.  

And fragments…the night only existed in fragments.

Ones that trickled off into nothing. 

The nightmare had come on fast. Like a strike from the sky then suddenly you were transported back into that heated tent. Blood spilled from seeping pools along the floor to small clumps that might just never come out from under your nails. Tendons and bone and metal balls. Things that were never meant to be together but time after time you were forced to dig out these demon bullets from warm bodies. 

You hit the floor with a thud. Footsteps scrambled across the space. 

The explosions continued in the background. Like fire in the sky that these demons had somehow figured out how to harness. And as you frantically stitched up a gushing wound you couldn’t help but wonder where it had hit. Who it had hit. Your work was getting messy. Not only from your shaking hands but the squirming of the man beneath you. His cries would never leave you.

Arms wrapped around you but they couldn’t stop your shaking. They couldn’t stop the endless line of battered bodies they came through the tent. 

Rumble and crack, sounds that rattled in your chest the same way it shook the ground. You stopped looking at their faces, afraid of who you could see. Had you already stitched up a friend? A child? Your sister…no, she was on your left. She never spoke on these days, covered in blood up to her elbows. 

How long had it been? 

How much longer did you have to go?

Your fingertips were becoming slippery but you wouldn’t look to see what they were covered in. Not when another person was carried to your feet. Not when…not when those screams sound far too young to be more than a child. 

No more.

No more no more no more no more.

Please no more!

“Mawey, tanhi. I’ve got you.”

Another crack. Another vibration. The lump in your throat was sure to be a sob but no one would hear you even if it were to bubble up. It would be drowned in the sea of anguish. Just the way no one would see your shaking hands through the mist of teary eyes. Your throat knotted. You couldn’t get oxygen through just in the same way the chest beneath your hands couldn’t. It heaved and heaved before halting. 

His heart had stopped.

Would yours stop too?

It didn’t matter. There was no time to think about your own oxygen. Just keep going. Don’t stop. Never stop.

“Open your eyes, sevin, please. Open your eyes for me.”

And you were a coward for shifting away but how could they ask you to look? How could they expect you to see the carnage that was once your friends and family? How did war have a way of turning passionate souls into nothing more than fractured skin and bone? It was all you could see now. 

Just blood.

And bone.

And your crooked stitches from cowardice hands. 

“Y/N!”

In a snap you were met with a different view. A canopy of fabrics above, not the same as the healer’s tent. A firm chest pressed against your back and sweet words that resembled nothing of screams. 

The explosions were here though. And each rumble of power was followed by a strike of light and that sharp rippling sound. 

“Please.” You whispered.

“I know, I know. I’ve got you.” A voice soothed and you could only drown in the wetness along your cheeks. Rocked back and forth side to side but the explosions never stopped. 

New sounds accompanied the first and it was only the throb in your throat that revealed it was your own sobs being let loose. Warm skin pressed against your forehead, lips that weren’t outlined in blood. 

“It’s over.” The voice promised. 

You wanted to tell the truth. To say that it would never be over. It could never be over. Not when the memory infiltrated every space in your mind, corrupting what little light was still there. 

You didn’t have enough air to say it, however. Your own cries were what filled the night as the voice whispered soothing promises. Fingers ran through your hair and a heartbeat was beneath your cheek. 

Your eyes gave out before the rumbling did. 

The gentle sway was relaxing. The sound of rain doing even more to calm you slumber as you snuggled deeper into the soft blanket. Fingers grasping at the material, you breathed in the scent with eased contentment. The essence alone was enough to tempt you into falling right back asleep.

Perhaps you could stay here forever. Snuggled in your bed.

That way you would never have to open your eyes because doing so was sure to spin you off your axis. The pounding in your head could only be blamed on last night’s overindulgence but Talu hadn’t come to wake you up yet, so it was fine. 

The branches of your top dug into your side upon turning over and you squirmed to shift it. Much less soft than the usual tops you wore to bed. Did you not change before falling asleep?

Sifting through your memory, however, all you could retrieve was the sound of a calm heart beat and a fresh fragrance that wrapped around you. The same one that filled your lungs from the blanket. 

Your eyes snapped open. 

This was not your room. You could tell from the first glimpse at the overhead marui structure. And with one more inhale that essence led you to believe you knew exactly whose home you were in. Head aching and body feeling like it has the strength of a rag doll you slowly turned to observe your surroundings. With a cringe you held your breath. One look over had your apprehensions confirmed. 

Sprawled out across the kelku floor on the opposite side of the space lay Lo’ak, sound asleep. 

He had one arm tucked beneath his head with a small blanket thrown over his lap that barely covered anything. Long legs strewn messily along the woven floor, his soft lips were parted with just a whisper of breath passing. Glossy braids outlined his chiseled features into something softer. Something that had you turning away abruptly. 

The action only rewarded you with a spinning room, lifting from all sense of reality as you tried not to hurl your guts on his floor. Taking deep breaths you eventually calmed your head and stomach enough to start thinking through your next course of action. 

You hadn’t even attempted to stand up and it had already been a close call, so sneaking away gracefully seemed like an unlikely feat. Still…Lo’ak was asleep. And if his heavy breathing was anything to go by, he was well under.

Rain still trampled the scene outside but the thunder and lightning were gone, at least for now. Your eyes pinched shut, cheeks heating as you tried to to push away the memory of Lo’ak rocking you in his arms. 

All the more reason to get out of here without having to interact. 

Lo’ak’s groan made you freeze in place, one leg already reaching outside of the hammock. He shifted, propping one leg up before letting out a sigh. You prayed to Eywa he was a heavy sleeper. 

It wouldn’t have mattered in the end, however, because when both feet were planted and you went to stand it only resulted in a collapsing with a screech that would have woken up the neighbors, let alone the male sleeping a few paces away. 

Rushed footsteps sounded before two hands tried to help you back up.

“Hey, take it easy.” The tone of his voice had dropped to a rough rumble, thick with the last string of sleep. 

You gulped.

Shoving him off was too much of an effort at this point and to your dismay it seemed that the only way back on your feet was to accept his help. He didn’t give you a chance to try running again, instead helping lift you back onto his bed. With a groan you threw your arm over your eyes. 

It felt as if your head had been trampled beneath a Bone Helm Rhino’s feet. 

“Lo’ak,” You said slowly. “What am I doing in your home? Or more specifically, in your bed?” 

“You really should drink some water.” You could hear him shuffling, mostly likely going to get you some.

“Lo’ak.” Tongue wielded like a knife you took the little energy you had to muster up some remnants of intimidation. 

He sighed. 

“Don’t worry. Nothing like that happened last night. I promise.” 

Despite your frustration, you believed him. Your clothes were still in tack and it appeared that Lo’ak had spent the entire night sleeping on his floor so you could take the bed. Another part of you was more frustrated by the gesture. He was being such a gentleman it was borderline sickening. Why couldn’t you be left alone to hate him in peace? 

“Oh really?” You countered. “Then what did?” 

Although you could feel his stare, the arm over your eyes added a false sense of protection from his intensity. 

“Exactly what I said would happen. You got drunk off your ass and needed someone to take you home.”

Your arm dropped sharply, heating rushing to your face.

“And you thought that meant taking me to your home?” The sound of your own raging voice caused a ringing in your ears. Lo’ak remained unfazed, a leaf of water already waiting in his other hand. 

“I would’ve walked you home tanhi but…” He cringed slightly.

“But what?” You pressed, eyes narrowing. 

“Well it was my horny brother that would have kept you up all night so I figured it was my responsibility to help you find some place more…comfortable.” 

Your nose scrunched. So many tiny pieces of information yet nothing was coming together to create a true picture of what had been your prior night’s experience. 

“He stayed over?” It shouldn’t have surprised you. Talu and Neteyam were progressing at such a fast rate you sometimes wondered if mating was only a few weeks away. Staying the night was only bound to happen before then, especially with those secretive looks that you were forced to witness. 

“Still is.” Lo’ak urged the leaf forward, which you reluctantly accepted. Even the cool water burned your battered throat. “I didn’t want them waking you.” 

“Sure.” You deadpanned.

“He is not the quietest-”

“Ew! Lo’ak, I don’t want to hear about that.” You reeled back, desperately trying to erase invading images of your sister and the future Olo’eyktan as fast as possible. You loved your sister but hearing about her sex life was not on your list of priorities. A sentiment you wish she had in common with you but there were far too many times that she pushed for information on your end.

Lo’ak laughed and leaned back onto his haunches. 

“Well neither do I but it’s information I am burdened with.” His fingers ran through his braids. “Shared a marui with him in Awa’atlu for far too long.” Lo’ak muttered. 

“So it’s a good thing you’re here. Won’t have to witness it for yourself.” He patted your knee with a smile before rising to refill the water. You scowled at his back, amiss that he couldn’t properly see your disdain. 

With the clouded sky it was difficult to tell how long you had been there but you were ready to suffer the physical strain of walking back in this horrid state if it meant avoiding addressing the elephant in the room. 

“Well excuse me if I’m not quick to thank you but I really should be getting back now.” 

He eyed you cautiously from across the room. Putting on a tough facade was difficult when your limbs would hardly coordinate as your head pounded relentlessly. You didn’t manage to swing your legs over the hammock again before Lo’ak had crossed the room and was handing you more water. 

“One thing I know about Neteyam is that he likes to take his damn time. It’s going to be a while.” 

“Oh please, all men claim that.” You scoffed, taking the water from his hands. “Surely even the walk back would be enough time.” You scoffed after downing the liquid. 

“Tanhi, you are brutal.” Lo’ak said with an amused chuckle. 

“No, I’m realistic.”

“Pessimistic.” He corrected, eyebrows raised in a challenge. 

You tapped a finger against your chin as if in deep thought. “Hm let me guess, you are the great exception then? Your claim to a woman's pleasure being sincere for once.”

Those golden orbs darkened slightly, his tail swishing in a slow rhythm. “I don’t have to claim anything. Actions speak louder than words.” 

That glimmer of mischief sparked just the same as it did when he was a child. However this time it held promises of things far less innocent. You wondered how many Metkayina women had fallen prey to that vibrant spark. His appeal was undeniable and yet another reason the sight of him made your blood boil. 

When were you ever going to catch a break? Your racing heart could surely use one. 

“Typical.” You scoffed, finally relenting to being trapped, flopping onto your back. 

Lo’ak chuckled and rose, towering over where you laid. From this angle you could see far too much, every chiseled muscle in his body contrasted by the low light. 

“Well if you ever want to examine the evidence up close yourself, I am at your beck and call.” He tucked one stray strand away from your forehead and retreated before you could reprimand him. Heat sparked down from your face until reaching your collarbones. 

He was such an asshole. Thinking there would ever be a day where you would want that. You were not another doe eyed female he could win over. Even if your eyes strayed far too long as he began adjusting the waterproof fabrics to hang from the marui’s openings. That superficial attraction meant nothing but that you were in the prime mating season of your life. Hormones were a powerful force but not enough for you to forget what he had done. 

If any other typical warrior were to take his place the effect would have surely been the same. In fact you remembered feeling that pull to another male last night.

Your tail curled around your thigh. What had happened to him? Flashes of dancing and drinking with the warrior were strong enough to be real but beyond that everything else was a blur. All you knew is that he was more than willing to bring you drink after drink. 

Did he see you leave with Lo’ak at the end of the party? There may not have been any true long term interest for the male but you would still feel bad if running off with Lo’ak had snipped him in some way. Especially when getting further entangled with the Olo’eyktan’s youngest son was the last thing you desired. 

When Lo’ak scaled the side support beam to flank down the next cover, you caught sight of scabbed marks along his knuckles. 

“You hit him?!” 

“What?” Lo’ak casted you a glance from where he hung from the beam, thighs flexed around the base to keep him in place. 

A fiery glare was shot at his hand.

“Oh this,” He peeled the hand from the bar, casually using one arm to keep a grip. “Yeah I met your special friend last night.” The frown upon his lips showed that he had anything but fond memories of the interaction.

“What a character he is.” Lo’ak grumbled lowly, more so to himself than you. 

Like lightning a flash of anger coursed through your veins. Clenched fists and wobbly legs scrambled to push you back into an upright position. 

“Lo’ak te Suli Tsyeyk’itan you had no right!”

His legs unfurled and he hung from the bar with one hand, the other out in form of surrender.

“Now wait a minut-”

“You think that just because you want to court me that it puts me off the market for all other men? It’s not their fault that you are too stubborn to let me ignore you peacefully! So what now? Are you going to punch every male that looks in my direction?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Can’t even handle the slightest bite of competition?” 

His eyes narrowed, ears pinned backwards as he leveled you with a fierce stare. It was too late. You were on a roll. 

Ignoring the swirling of the room you stomped over to him, finger poking aggressively into his chest as you spoke. “If you don’t like seeing me with other suitors then I suggest you skip to the inevitable outcome and find yourself another woman to annoy! Maybe she will take your constant nagging as a compliment.” 

Your chest heaved from the effort, lungs filling with oxygen rapidly as silence fell. An eerie silence that made you shudder from the drafting wind. Lo’ak watched you, voice stoic of emotion before fixing the last flap and dropping to his feet with a thud. Towering over you like a shadow in the night, it was difficult to force yourself to keep from stepping back. 

Two more steps and he was close enough to feel the heat of his skin. 

“Napau is a crook and disgrace to the title he held. Any man that schemes to take advantage of a woman under strong drink against her will does not deserve to breathe the air Eywa gives. He is lucky that I only had time to get a few hits in.” Lo’ak’s voice dropped into a low register that burned with seething fire. 

“He knows what will happen if he crosses my path again. Or Neteyam’s for that matter.” Dark promises whistled in his words, an intense sincerity that had your own nerves rattling. You could only imagine how Napau would have fared under that same intimidation last night. 

And then Lo’ak was gone, calmly walking to the other side of kelku to secure the next flap. 

A mixture of embarrassment, regret, and dread swirled in your chest. If what Lo’ak said was true then last night could have ended so much worse than it did. A million possible scenarios crammed themselves to the front of your mind until you could feel nausea settling in. During the party you couldn’t even remember Napau’s name and yet that was almost the man taking you to bed. 

“You…You told Neteyam?”

“He saw enough to confirm the origin of my actions. Napau won’t bother you again, tanhi.” He didn’t turn to face you, pulling on the rope tight to keep the fabric in place. 

“What does that mean?” A part of you was reluctant to ask but you needed to know what became of him and even more so what had almost become of you. 

It seemed Lo’ak was even more reluctant than you to talk about it when his tail dropped and he let out a heavy sigh. He remained diligent in waterproofing the marui despite the heavy topic. 

“It means he got off with more mercy than he deserved. As I said he was not worthy of the warrior title he held so that was remedied and now he knows better than to come within half a mile of you or me.” 

“His title was revoked? How is that even possible? Without the proper authority-”

“Neteyam will be Olo’eyktan soon enough. One word to my father from him will be enough, trust me.” He peeked over his shoulder, watching the way your eyes ran from side to side as you processed the information. It was too much to sort in your hazy mind, too many emotions that couldn’t be felt separately. 

Lo’ak softened.

Leaving the flap aside he made gentle steps in your direction, careful not to scare you away. 

“Don’t let this weigh on you, tanhi. It has been solved.” Voice smooth and tender, it didn’t matter because it was clear your mind was somewhere else. 

“What did he do exactly?” 

That struck Lo’ak into a posture as stiff as a board. His tail froze and eyes melted back into that stormy gold color. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Well I do.” You insisted, catching his arm when he went to turn. His whole body froze this time, eyes darting down to where you clasped his forearm. Lo’ak had grown tall, taller than most Na’vi thanks to his father’s Avatar genes. It therefore required your neck craning backward to stare up at him properly. 

“I am grateful to Eywa that you do not have to remember such events.”

“But-”

“However, I can assure you that he got no further than a few unwanted kisses and squeezes before I stepped in.” Lo’ak stayed in place, no longer in a rush to fix the kelku as you let his words marinate. It was harder to feel the true wash of relief when your own shouts against the Sully son had been reframed into something more brutal. Apologizing felt like the last thing you wanted to do, especially since a part of you could not let go of your lingering anger towards him. 

Lo’ak had saved you. 

Why couldn’t you have saved yourself?

All because your stupid pride and spite towards the male had clouded your judgment into behaving foolishly. This is not who you were. Never before had you indulged in such reckless behavior and yet within the first couple weeks of the Sullys returning this is what Lo’ak got to see of you. What type of sorcery did his mere presence hold to shove you into madness? 

Lightning struck from above, thunder falling far too quickly after. 

Nails digging into Lo’ak’s arm, you watched the sky carefully through the front entrance. 

“It bothers me too.” 

His voice snapped you back to attention as hard as the crackling lightning. 

“The storm.” He clarified, meeting your startled gaze with a soft composure. “The sound is all too…familiar.” 

There were no further words needed to understand what he meant. The Sky Demon’s erupting fire had been relentless. Always taking. Always destroying. Crumbling your land before you in a matter of blinking. Awa’atlu no doubt had not been exempt from such cruelty.

“Should I feel sorry for you then?” The cycle of storm started up again and with the next crack of lightning your voice came out shakier than intended. 

Lo’ak’s shoulders fell.

“No tanhi,” He sighed, pausing for a moment. “I’m not telling you this to gain your sympathy. I only want you to know that I would never judge you for feeling that fear too.” His eyes flickered down to where you still dug into his arm as the storm carried forward. 

You quickly snapped away, taking a few steps back for measure. Veering your attention away from the entrance, you hoped the lack of visual would keep you from crumbling further in terror. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled.

“And we don’t have to.” 

Such a different tune than the one Lo’ak often sang but one look at his expression showed that he was not lying. 

“But you know where I am if you ever do.” He gave a half smile and crossed to put the last flap over the entrance. You weren’t oblivious to the occasional glance he casted from the corner of his eye to check up on you. 

Having the marui enclosed completely did aid in dampening your anxiety. It gave you a moment to look around and fully take in your surroundings. It had only been a few weeks since the Sullys had returned to the forest so you were surprised to see his living space so thoroughly crafted. Small candles lit a soft glow that seemed to fill the area with warmth. 

Thinking of Lo’ak you would have expected his space to be covered with a messy floor and toppled gear but what you found was quite the contrary. Neat baskets held smaller household items while his weapons were securely kept in hanging shelves. Spears, bows, knives, and other Sky Demon weaponry. Your eyes were caught on the ominous guns before getting snapped away by the sound of thunder. 

Your arms snaked around your own waist, willing your heart rate to slow. 

Soft lips threatened to break beneath your sharp teeth. Although exhausted it felt as if your body was on a buzz, a vibration that would have you shattering to pieces. 

“How do you deal with it?” The question sprung without thought. 

“With what?” You had his attention now, his hands swiping at the rain covering his arms. 

“The storm. If it bothers you so much, how do you manage?” Although initially embarrassed by your impromptu question it did help to shift the weight over to Lo’ak instead of you. Anything to avoid bringing up the way you had cried in his arms. 

Lo’ak surprisingly lit up at the inquiry. A smile curved at his lips and the air of a secret you were not privy to filled his aura. 

“I have a secret weapon.” He said proudly, motioning for you to follow him as he quickly dropped to his knees and shuffled through baskets. At the mention of weapons you were already hesitant, stiff as a board. However, for as far as you knew everything that could do harm was on the other side of his marui, so you slowly dropped to your knees beside him. 

Lo’ak pulled out on those glowing squares that the scientists were always tapping on. You’d seen them many times in your trips to the outpost but never were interested in becoming familiar with it. This one was smaller, though. So small it fit in the palm of his hand. Then he pulled out another metal object that was an oval shape. 

With a few taps on the tiny pad the oval began singing. You shuffled backwards, almost hitting the hammock behind, as if the small device would attack. When it made no other movement you relaxed and awkwardly crouched back into place. To his credit, Lo’ak tried to hide his laughter. 

Sky Demon music is strange. So different from the lively drums that accompanied their ceremonies. From the foreign words to strange layers of sound it was always too overwhelming. But this song stood apart. 

No language to throw you off but whistling of high and low that would meld into perfect harmony. Lo’ak watched as you creeped ever closer. Despite its soft essence the music gently floated over the sound of thunder and lightning until it felt like the only air filling the marui.

Your tail curled lazily along the floor. Hands bracing yourself forward you drank in every note and phrases that formed together. There was no way of predicting which message would sprout from one to the next but somehow it maintained that perfect fluidity. Like the roots of the trees that intertwined all greenery together, this song was its own habitat. 

“Beautiful.” Lo’ak murmured, like a whisper of a secret. 

“Beautiful.” You couldn’t help but agree, but when you looked up his eyes were only set on you. Warmth crackled through your veins. 

He rose to his feet second after and you craned to look at him. 

“I will go drag my brother out so you can go home. At least make sure he’s decent.” His right ear twitched as a glimmer of amusement snuck through. “But you are free to stay as long as you like.”

The rain was still coming down in sheets outside. When Lo’ak pushed the cover aside you could see another flash of light from the sky. He stepped out into the shower without hesitation, braids becoming shiny in the rain. For a moment you considered protesting, insisting that he wait until the storm had passed, but you feared the contradiction. Only a mere moment ago you were stumbling to return. 

“Tanhi, you were right.” Lo’ak called over the pounding rain. “It did bother me to see you with him.” 

There and gone within a flash. You were left to sit in his kelku with lips parted and head more dizzy than ever. Despite how much there was to unpack you allowed yourself to sink into the sweet melody. Curling up with the blanket that had fallen to the floor you decided that you didn’t have to go back, not just yet. 

“Kaltxi [hello], traitor.” You huffed after breaching the entrance. There was no sight of Neteyam but you could still smell his specific essence in the air. Talu’s ears twitched up at the sound of your voice, pausing from where she was cleaning her room. 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She chastised you but a smile was already forming along her lips. She tugged the trunk from the corner quickly and sat down atop it. Elbows resting on her crossed legs and eyes shining with interest, her keen attitude was far too much for your hungover state to handle. “Tell me everything!” 

“Where would you like me to start? Waking up today in another man’s bed? Or maybe I could tell the story from when you decided to toss me off to him so you could entertain a certain prince last night.” Your arms crossed and nose scrunched as you glared down at her. 

Your agitation only increased when Talu let out a short laugh. 

“Toss you off? Tsmuke [sister] I could not have pried you away from him last night.” Her correction was accompanied by her own body language mimicking yours, lips tempted into a playful smirk. It made your own countenance falter. 

“What are you talking about?” Narrowed eyes pinned her into place but Talu already wore a giddy grin. 

“I tried several times to take you home last night but you would not have it. You were glued to Lo’ak’s side, kept talking about how good he smelled.” Her smile only grew as fire burned into your cheeks. “He even offered to walk you home but it was you that insisted upon staying with him. You were absolutely smitten.” She giggled.

“I was absolutely drunk!” You hissed, tailing coiling around your own ankle. You ran your fingers through the root of your tangled hair, eyes squeezing shut in horror. This is not how Lo’ak had told the story. Why would he have spun it differently? “And you just let me fall all over him? Let him take me back to his place so you could fuck his older brother?!”

“Mawey tiyawn [calm down love],” She urged, voice far gentler than your own as she stood and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Lo’ak promised nothing would happen and I believed him especially after…” That usual soft composure sharpened into something fierce. You knew exactly what she was remembering. You were confident that Talu would snap Napau in half herself were it not for Lo’ak getting their first. Despite her sweet and tempered demeanor your sister could be vicious once provoked. She had a protective streak that no one could dampen. 

“Yes yes I know.” You groaned. 

“So then you know that it’s all handled then. Neteyam is on his way to talk to Olo’eyktan right now.”

“Don’t remind me.” You spoke on an exhale, arms dropping to your side. This headache was never going to go away and now it had more ammunition to swirl it into chaos. Was it really as bad as Talu described? How were you ever going to face him again? And yet Lo’ak had not spoken of your clinging once. 

“He was quite heroic.” Talu smiled, finger moving to start releasing the knots in your hair. “I thought after how scared you were with Napau that you would want to return home immediately but you melted so easily in Lo’ak’s arms. A few minutes of playing with his hair and you were happy as a clam.”

You covered your heated face, stomach twisting as you imagined the scene. 

“Bury me ten feet under.” You whined, slumping into her arms. Talu shushed your worries, nimble fingers doing wonders for your chaotic hair. 

“Oh now don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure Lo’ak would never hold it against you.”

And he didn’t. In fact, he went out of his way to spin another story with the omission of your embarrassing desires. Why would he do that? He had been given the perfect ammunition. The perfect proof that you were interested in him and yet he had done nothing with it? Threw it out before even utilizing it. 

Surely there was some leverage to be gained after all of his courting to now find you falling all over him. 

None of it made sense and perhaps the remnants of pxir were stronger than you anticipated. It seemed as if the world had been spun on its top. You were nowhere closer to unwinding this web now than you were a few hours ago so you might as well rest. With that in mind you unclasped yourself from Talu’s arms and told her you were going to lay down. 

Hallway out the door way she stopped you. 

“You aren’t mad, are you? Truly?” Her voice wavered with hesitation for the first time since your arrival. “It wasn’t my intention to bring him home but once you were in such good hands….well, the night was so perfect and-”

“It is fine.” You reassured her, hand lazily landing on her shoulder. 

“Thank you.” Talu whispered, her eyes melting into a warm honey hue. You shrugged it off. 

“I hope he was worth it.” You snorted but one look at the Talu’s sneaking grin and swatting tail told you so much more about their night of fun than you would have liked to know. 

Thankfully the storm did not continue much longer. Rain continued to wash over the forest but thunder and lightning had taken its absence. It allowed you to fall head first into a deep sleep, although your dreams were riddled with passing memories. Glimpses of Lo’ak’s hands coming up to wipe away tears. The stretch of blue skin along his shoulder and throat that you snuggled into until his essence was clear. Even the deep rumble of soothing praise as you let yourself fall back into his chest. 

Hours later a shuffling of footsteps by the door pulled you out of sleep. Feeling much stronger now, you slowly padded to the entrance with pinched brows. Lo’ak was already gone but another cooked meal was left in his place with a homemade umbrella perched atop to keep it dry. 

You thought nothing of it, although begrudgingly grateful for something to fill your stomach. But then you saw something else neatly fold into a leaf, a note tucked at its side. 

To keep the darkness away

-Lo’ak

And left behind were those two objects that had played such sweet music in his kelku. His secret weapon, now yours to wield.

Any and all feeback is appreciated! It makes a huge difference for motivation and updating<3

Part of taglist: @hauntingvenus @yawnetu @baybaybear1 @affinity101022 @tsireyasluvr

[crystallinestars]

Kissing Headcanons Part 7 (Lyney, Neuvillette, Wriothesley)

Previous parts here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Wriothesley's part is mildly suggestive. Very mildly.

(Reader's gender is not mentioned)

Lyney’s kisses are playful yet charming. He really enjoys sneaking a kiss on your cheek when you’re least expecting it just so he can watch you grow flustered from the sudden act of affection. Mirth dances in his violet eyes as he chuckles at how shy you get when his soft lips press against your cheek. It strokes his ego to be able to get such a reaction out of you with a simple kiss, and he gently teases you about it and pulls you close just to prolong your flustered reaction to his proximity. You’re so wrapped up in keeping up with his flirtatious teasing and playful kisses that you don’t notice the rainbow rose pinned to your front until after Lyney leaves.

The magician also likes to act like a gentleman towards you when he feels particularly romantic. When the mood is right, Lyney gently takes your hand and kisses the back of it while giving you a cheeky wink and a flirty comment about how mesmerizing you are. He loves how this makes your heart skip a beat, so he makes sure to kiss the back of your hand more often. He’s not doing this just to mess with you, but because he genuinely wants to express his feelings of love. Lyney is also fond of giving you kisses in public, but if you are too shy to kiss in front of a crowd, then Lyney holds his hat beside your heads to block you both from view of any onlookers while he gives you a sweet kiss on the lips. The magician is naturally a very physically affectionate person, so he uses any excuse he can to place his hands and lips on you practically anywhere he deems appropriate. You’re the person who holds his heart, and as such, you’re deserving of all the love and affection he can give you at all times. If you’re not into PDA, Lyney tries to respect your comfort and holds himself back, but he hopes you will make up for this deficit by giving him lots of loving in private. He’s just that smitten with you.  

As excellent as Lyney is at flustering you with kisses, you have come to learn that he gets equally as flustered, if not more so when you return the favor. If you spring a surprise kiss on his cheek, he blushes and stares at you with wide eyes, for once at a loss for words, but the ensuing grin spreading on his face tells you that he loves this kind of attention from you and wants more. Give him a surprise kiss on the lips, however, and Lyney’s heart will do somersaults in his chest. He’ll be so flustered that he tries to pull down the brim of his hat so you won’t see how red his face is, especially if you laugh at his embarrassment.

One of Lyney’s favorite types of kisses to receive from you are what he calls “good luck” kisses. Before a major show, Lyney asks you to give him a kiss to serve as a good luck charm so his and Lynette’s show will go without a hitch. When you oblige, Lyney feels a burst of energy and is motivated to give the show his all. Maybe it’s coincidence, or your kisses really do have some sort of magic to them, but you notice that Lyney’s shows tend to go much more smoothly after getting a kiss from you.

--------------------

Neuvillette is inexperienced with kissing and initially finds the concept a bit peculiar. After meeting and sharing his first kiss with you, only then does he finally understand why humans often depict kissing as a magical moment in literature and music. Neuvillette harbors deep emotions of love and affection towards you, but he finds himself lacking the proper words to articulate how he feels. That was until he got to kiss you. Kissing gives him a nonverbal way to relay the full extent of the depth of his love for you, as well as feel how much you love him in return. It’s indeed a very intimate and almost magical experience in its own right, or so he believes.

His kisses are simple and are never fierce or aggressive. It’s unlikely you’ll get a passionate or heated kiss from him outside of the bedroom since Neuvillette prefers them to be soft and sweet. His feelings for you are tender, and he thinks it's only right to express them through equally gentle kisses. He presses his lips to yours in a chaste and slow kiss that he holds for a few moments before parting to give you a rare, gentle smile and a gaze full of gentle affection. Neuvillette likes to brush his fingers through your hair or along your cheek while he kisses you, his touch light and careful, almost as if he’s tracing his fingers over porcelain. There’s a fear in the back of his mind that he might hurt you. He’s not human unlike you, and comparatively possesses greater strength. This fear is partially one of the reasons he kisses you so gently, the other reason being that he has a gentlemanly disposition and enjoys a more tender and sweet expression of affection.

Neuvillette’s favorite places to kiss you are on your lips, but also your forehead and hand. He kisses your forehead if you’re feeling tired or sad as a way to comfort you, though he also does it when he thinks you are cute while talking about the things you love or while chatting with the Melusines. As for kisses to your hands, the Iudex likes to give you those whenever he makes a promise to you. It’s as if he’s sealing the deal with a kiss on your palm, thus making the promise more real. However, he also kisses your hands as a gentle coercion to get you to take breaks if he thinks you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. All his kisses exude a sense of gentleness and care because that’s exactly how Neuvillette feels about you.

--------------------

The Duke prefers to kiss you only in private. Though he’s well-respected in the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley is well aware he has a few enemies, and he doesn’t want anyone to hurt you as a way to try and get to him. As such, he reserves all his affection for you when you’re alone together. He exchanges short pecks with you throughout the day when he gets the chance, though his preferred way of kissing you is to press his lips firmly to yours in a heated make-out. Wriothesley tends to wrap a strong arm around your waist or press a palm on your back to pull you flush against him while his lips capture yours in a long, deep kiss that leaves both of you breathless.

His kisses aren’t rushed, but they can be intense if he’s been craving you throughout the day. Wriothesley deepens the kiss by cradling the back of your head and angling it just right so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth more comfortably. He feels a strong desire to be as close to you as possible, to hold you in his arms and kiss you senseless particularly when he’s been missing you or if he’s feeling frisky. He gets quite touchy during such moments; his hands rub over your back and card through your hair while he trails kisses from your mouth to your jaw, and then lower still to your neck. You are like a drug that soothes all his worries, and he simply can't get enough which is why he can be a bit clingy if he hasn't seen you for a while.

The Duke can also be a bit of a menace when his playful side rears its head. As if the heated make-out wasn’t enough to leave you flushed and breathless, there are times when Wriothesley playfully nips at your lips and carefully takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a gentle tug. It’s really hot in the moment, and he loves how your eyes cloud over with bliss when he does that, but the aftermath of his actions can sometimes be a problem. Your lips swell from the kissing and biting Wriothesley subjects them to, so it becomes very obvious just what you were doing with him in his office, which could potentially sabotage the secret of your relationship. You can only glare at him as he calls on Sigewinne to come and treat your lips to reduce the swelling, all the while looking more smug than apologetic about the fact. At least he has the decency not to leave hickeys on your neck when you’re not in the bedroom.

Aside from the heated make-outs, Wriothesley likes to get cheek kisses from you as a morning greeting or right before the two of you part ways to start your day. It gives him married couple vibes and a sense of domesticity he didn’t know he craved until you became lovers. Getting a kiss on the cheek from you brightens his day, and he walks around with a pleased smile on his face. The other inmates and guards notice the Duke’s smile, but they can only guess what made him so happy so early in the morning. Only Wriothesley knows the truth, and he looks forward to the end of the day when he will get to spend more time showering you in kisses.

[quackarl]

MCYT HAVING A CRUSH • HEADCANONS

A/N: I write for Foolish and Punz now too, everybody cheered! Here’s some (really specific, too!) headcanons on how they would act when reaaallyyy crushing on someone… Any way, please keep sending me requests! May take a while for me to write them, but hey, I’ve been feeling really excited about writing lately 🫶🏻 My next, or one of my next, uploads will be a full-length little fiction piece of Dream having a crush, sooo we’ll continue with this crush theme… 👀

DREAM:

If you were a streamer yourself, he’d definitely gift subs on each stream of yours. Let’s be real, he wouldn’t settle for 20 gifted subs, make it a 100. Sometimes he’d donate and attach messages with them such as “hey nice stream you got there” or just straight up “(sugar) daddy dream is here”. UM, RIP CHAT. AM I RIGHT? Knowing him, it’d be an unnecessarily large amount of money, but he just wants to see the stunned look on your face and hear you thank and praise him for his generosity like no other. Man’s smiling so hard at himself and feeling a little prideful for being able to spoil you like that, in front of thousands of people watching too, and thinking if only he could spoil you as more than a friend.

Giving you piggyback rides! Or more like demanding to give you piggyback rides… Dream would give off such cocky energy when he’d get to carry you on his back, though. Like you were royalty and he was your carriage. I can just imagine him walking around piggybacking you and someone asking him for a favor, to which he’d reply “I’d love to but I’m kinda busy here, and my hands are kinda full so…” and gesture at you on his back and his hands supporting you. You’d hurrily try to climb off of him, to which he’d just yelp a little “no!” and then proceed to throw you a reassuring smile over his shoulder, silently telling you he likes having you so close to him.

Yeah so, those little acts of service are it for him. He’d feel the urge to spoil you, as stated before, and this side of him would strongly come out if you ever were to shop with him around. If you ever wanted to even look at an item, you better do it quick and not let him see. Because the moment he sees you looking a little too hard at or twiddle with something you’re considering buying, he strides over to you and starts asking “you want it? ‘Cause if you want it, it’s yours” and you can already see him taking out his credit card. And before he even gives you time to think, he has already bought it for you. Damn, he’d buy the whole store for you in a heartbeat if you asked. So, better not even joke about it to him…

You know the really cheesy move guys pull when they yawn and stretch and lift up their arm and then put it over their crushes’ shoulder? I feel like Dream would be so guilty of attempting that, successfully attempting that. He’d make it super playful though, he doesn’t want to scare you away, in case you wouldn’t feel the same way about him. After successfully getting his arm around you, he’d blissfully sigh “ah! This is nice, or what?”

He’d make playlists, for himself. And they’d be public for everyone to see. Nothing weird about that, right? Or at least at first, there was nothing exceptional about them, or so did everyone thought, until later a few fans pointed it out that, maybe coincidentally, the first letters of each track spelt out your name. Totally not a coincidence for Dream, even though that’s what he tells to the curious public: it’s all a coincidence. He wouldn’t be afraid to make his crush on you obvious to the world. Because no one would know just how serious he was about it, instead he’d just play it off as playful banter between two close friends. It’d be just for him to know that he did it out of true affection. Maybe someday for you to know as well, he hopes. But for now, he settles for playing it cool and laughing off the people online freaking out.

Even more of being close to you. Like in forms of giving you massages. Yep. He’d sneak up behind you and just start massaging your shoulders. In a totally friendly way. Or so he hopes it seems like, because again, he doesn’t want to scare you away. So a friendly massage. And who are you to turn down a free massage? And so he’s massaging away and relishing in getting to be close to you again. He’d get super into it though and probably make a few dramatic “Ohh! Ahh! Oh yeah!” sound effects of his own. He’d ask you then “you feel good now?” You know damn well that Sapnap would fight the urge to ask Dream does he like making you feel good.

SAPNAP:

Congrats, now that he’s (still secretly) hardcore crushing on you big time, you have a hype man of your own (that’s him). If it came to video games and watching you play them, he’d (sometimes lewdly) comment on every move you’d make in the game, such as “you’re so fucking good at that. You know what being around a good player, who’s also hot, does to me”, he’d scream “YEAH!” a little too loud whenever you’d win. Others hearing it will point out his constant praise with a “yeah, we get it already” to which he’d mumble a quiet “shut up” and bite back a smile. Like Dream, he just wants to like you loud and proud, but not give it away that he’s actually being serious and doing more than just platonic flirting. He also finds you being skilled attractive, no matter how small the said skill is. Even when it comes to mundane things, he’s still rooting for you. It could be something as simple as cooking with him and his need to praise you would get triggered by something as simple as you working a blender perfectly. Yeah… He cheers and claps when you’re done blending and then explains himself when you question what got him so excited, “n-no, nothing, it’s just that, that can be pretty tough, y’know? Especially avoiding spillage. Dream usually doesn’t know how to do it the right way so-“ “Yes, I do!” Dream would interrupt and yell from the living room. Sapnap just hopes he shuts up so he doesn’t blow his cover. He knows that Dream knows damn well how to use the blender, but in his eyes you’re just superior at everything, so even if it takes throwing Dream under the bus to make you feel superior, he’ll do it.

Okay, so, he loves praising you but he also likes hearing you praise him. He’d trick you into it though by asking you questions such as “don’t I just look so good today?” or “do you like this new hoodie I bought?” You’d have no choice than to agree and tell him that yes, he looks nice. It literally has him falling asleep with a smile on his face that night, wishing that the more you tell him that, the more you’ll also convince yourself that he is indeed pretty cute, and hot, and handsome, and all that. He’d do anything to convince you that he’s the most handsome thing you’ll ever see. 

God help him if you’d ever talk to him about someone other than him, any other guy. Yeah, his heart would break a little, but it’d also make him super competitive and, well, petty as hell. You could even harmlessly compliment Karl and he’d instantly get into a “but I’m better” mood. And that’s also exactly what he’d ask you, “but he’s not as cute as me, right?” You’d be taken back a little and tell him that “I think there’s no reason for that,” which should be enough to reassure him and his petty mood, but he’d just pout and grunt back “we’ll see about that.” He can’t sometimes stand anyone else than him hearing those compliments from you, especially if he was in a grumpy mood to begin with. Talking about compliments, he’d also learn any skill just to impress you. And to be better than everyone else. Simp behavior…

He’d also be sooo whiny. He’d use that whiny tone to convince you. Trying to convince you to stay over at his house for a little longer. Or trying to convince you in voice call to play one more round of a game with him on stream when you’d have million of other important things to do instead. He’d talk in that tone only for you, but he wouldn’t really care if others heard him. Usually if any of the boys would hear him, they’d definitely gag at his sweet talk. All in good fun, of course. If you were to deny him and his attempt to get you to join his team for just one more round, he wouldn’t stop whining for the majority of the stream nor the call. 30 minutes later and you can still occasionally hear his voice whining, “whyyyyy? But why would you say ‘no’? Pleaseeeee....” aaand cue to Karl gagging. 

Sapnap would be so slick when it comes to spending more time with you, or initiating to spend more time with you. He’d ask you “hey, do you remember when we went to that arcade?” and you’d be a mess of confusion because, you have never been to an arcade with him, so you’d tell him with a nervous laughter “no? I don’t think that ever happened” to which he’d smirk at you and say “well, should we make it happen?” And that’s how he took to you an arcade. And to many other places. He pretends they’re dates. But shh, that’s a secret. He wouldn’t want to ruin a great friendship. He just hopes you like the slick ones if he ever was to ruin it.

Letting you borrow his hoodie and then claiming that you can keep it when you try to give it back to him? YES. This actually would happen with a couple of his hoodies. Very gentleman-y of him. You wouldn’t even have time to finish your sentence about how cold it is outside, when he already is handing you his hoodie. You’d go through the bickering back and forth of him insisting that you put it on and that he’ll be fine without it, that he’s not cold at all, and you telling him that he doesn’t need to give it to you. He knows he doesn’t, but he wants to. So let him, please. Let him enjoy the cute view (he secretly enjoys) of you in his clothes. Later on he then tells you to “just keep it”, because he has ‘plenty of hoodies anyway.’ Oh boy, he just hopes you wear it around him sometime…

Sooo quick to defend you. Sometimes it’d be a little unnecessary how strongly he’d react, but he feels that it’s now (that he’s absolutely smitten by you) in his blood to defend and protect you from anything that could make you feel bad about yourself. It could be something as simple as someone pointing out that you bite your nails as a bad habit and Sapnap would open his mouth and tell them “bro, stop. Leave them alone.” Everyone would be a little stunned and tell him to calm down, to which he’d mutter “yeah, whatever”, but no, he wouldn’t let himself calm down just yet. For the remaining of the day he’s on high alert, ready to defend you some more.

GEORGE:

My God, he’d get so giggly and blushy around you. He’d definitely argue back that no, he doesn’t, but he does. Just hearing you laugh, he’d start laughing and giggling along, even when he’d have no clue what’s so funny and what exactly it is that you’re laughing at. And the blushing! If anyone was to point out the blush on his cheeks, he’d just shake his head, roll his eyes and assure that no, his face is not red (while he is visibly red). At his weakest, he wouldn’t even be able to look at your way without blushing. How much longer exactly will he be able to hide his feelings like that?

Sometimes when he’d feel extremely bold and brave, he’d take things to Twitter. Or someone would do it for him. What I mean is that, George would look up or come across a video of let’s say, two cats cuddling or kissing, or whatsoever, and tag you and tweet “Me and you?” Twitter has a meltdown. Meltdown is an understatement. Maybe he’d get cold feet almost immediately and delete it before too many people would see it. (Too bad that there’ll still be hundreds of screenshots of it.) Sometimes someone else like Sapnap would instead tag you and George in a similar tweet and say “this @y/n and @GeorgeNotFound???” Yeah, you may be blind to the massive crush George has on you, but Sapnap isn’t…

Filming totally pointless TikToks with him... Yeah, they’re pointless and it’s his ideas that usually are just causing confusion amongst anyone watching them. There’s no plot, just vibes. But he can’t ignore how happy and comfortable he feels with you even on camera, even when you’re doing some stupid TikTok dances. And in a way, he also gets to show off your friendship, he wishes it was more than friendship, to the world. So yeah, most of the time they were spontaneous clips that we’re just filmed in the heat of the moment, a little humorous, definitely chaotic. What anyone watching would see on the screen is just two friends hanging out and having fun, but it’s totally different from what he feels. And he totally plays them back and watches them alone afterwards, smiling at his phone, smiling at you on his screen. And then checking you out a little bit too, “wow…”

Sure, he’s able to gently joke around with you, but then somehow end up feeling a little bad for it. He could offer you a snack and ask you “you want this?” and when you’d say yes, instead of feeding it to you, he’d instead eat it himself and laugh at you “hah! You can’t have it!” Soon he’d start feeling bad for you, even though there definitely was no harm done with that little prank, but he feels bad enough to go above and beyond to get you your own snacks that no one can steal away from you, not even him. He’d present them to you with a “woo-o! Look what I have!” and wow, he’d be so red in the face again when you stare at him with your mouth agape in surprise and ask him “you did this… for me?”

Whenever someone in the room told a joke, he’d always look at you first to see your reaction, your smile, your laugh in response. That’s such an adorable little habit he has formed now that he has a crush. For him, seeing you happy and content comes first. He’d also laugh at pretty much anything you’d say. Maybe it’s nervous laughter, for how he always feels a bit nervous around you. You could be saying the most normal things, such as “I took a walk today,” and he’d burst out laughing at that. Yeah, don’t even ask... He thinks laughter is the way to your heart, as dramatic as it sounds.

But he’d also have that side of him to be loud and… annoying around you. Maybe it’d be to keep your attention on him, to keep him on your mind at all times, even when he’s not with you. So he’d find the most bizarre ways to find his way into your days. Like, prank calling you out of nowhere. He’d call you and when you’d pick up, he’d just scream down the phone and then hang up. So romantic… But then he’d get you to call him back, to ask him if he has something to actually tell you, and then manage to keep you on the phone for an hour, just chit-chatting about nothing in particular. After you’d tell him that you have to go, he’d shriek at you “nooo! But I am so bored! Don’t leave me die of boredom! And what would you do without me then, hmm? What’s even more important to you than talking to me right now? Are you scheming to get rid of me? ‘Cause you won’t!”

He’d usually turn to you for advice, he really trusts you to not screw him over. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re a savior and an angel in his eyes. You could give him the worst advice and he’d still blindly follow it, just because it’s advice that came from you. And in his eyes, you could never be wrong about anything. He could text you “should I get a haircut?” and you’d tell him “sure but it’s really up to you?” and yeah, he knows it’s up to him but at least he got an opinion from you so he just texts you back “yeah I guess :]”. You best believe that he goes ahead and gets the haircut, that you technically agreed with, and only hopes you like it.

KARL:

When Karl is crushing on you, he’d be genuinely offended if you did stuff without him. Stuff that usually the two of you would do together, like watch anime, or cartoons. Or any TV -show. He’d ask you if you’ve seen the newest episode of an anime you’ve both been hooked on that just came out a few days ago, thinking that it’d be nice if you could watch it with him, but when you’d tell him that “yeah. I watched it last night,” he’d let out a frustrated sigh and tilt his head back in annoyance and tell you “nooo! I really wanted to watch it with you! Now, why would you do that and watch it without me?” Of course, he wasn’t actually mad at you, but he was really hoping he could’ve made it your thing to keep up with that anime together. So yeah, he’s a little annoyed you’d watch it without him. He likes the nights when you’re both cozy on the couch, watching it, commenting on every plot twist. Big sigh.

He’d talk to you, like a lot. Even when there was nothing to talk about. Because, in his (secret) opinion, there is always something to talk about with you. He makes conversations out of anything just to get to talk to you. You could be sitting with him in his room, looking out the window, watching birds fly by and he’d just ask you “what’s your favorite bird?” and then smile at you like he didn’t just ask the most random question and like he actually doesn’t genuinely seem interested in knowing the answer. Because he does. Well, you’d end up talking about birds, flying, nature.... and he is so happy. Because all that matters is that he’s talking to you.

He’d insist on making secret handshakes with you, that no one else knows and can learn except than you two, and then feeling so proud about them afterwards. He’d remember them even after a long time, you’d ask him how does he still remember and he would just blush and stutter, “I- it’s just kind of special. Of course I remember.”

Okay, so... Fan-fiction. He’d definitely read the fan-fictions people would write about you (there already are shippers out there, even though he has not admitted crushing on you). Maybe that’s adding fuel to the fire when he’d read them on stream. Bad idea? Maybe... He’d put so much effort into the reading, making it all feel as real as possible, voice acting to the best of his ability and all. It makes chat question though, why is he so into it? And why is he giggling every five seconds? Any possible kissing scenes... He would not even skip over them, but instead he’d make literal kissing sounds into the mic... Someone stop him.

For some reason, I can imagine him casually showing up when he knows you’re around in a shirt that says something like “if you’re reading this, I have a crush on you” and look out for your reaction. Well, yeah, you read it, and so did everyone else that talked to him that day. You laughed it off and joked that “everyone already knows that he’s a homie hopper” and so did everyone else. He’d dream about the day he could eventually confess his crush on you and also tell you that he has actually told you about it way before, and when you’d confusingly ask him when did that happen, he’d tell you that “you read my shirt, that one day when you called me out for being a homie hopper, didn’t you?” And then it’d all click.

Aww, you’d get to model for his merch! He’d ask you, no, he’d beg you. Is there really anything he’d enjoy more than seeing you in his brand new merch, before anyone else sees it? And have those pictures plastered all over his social media accounts and website? No way. Between every shot he’d take of you, he’d giggle and mutter a little “perfect”, his eyes gleaming and cheeks blushing. Every minute he’d resist the temptation to tell you how perfect you really look, because 1. he doesn’t want to get too sappy now, and 2. he still has a secret to keep... Yeah, he’s crushing on you harder than ever after that.

Whenever there’d be a group gathering and not enough seats for all of you... do I even need to say it? This man would immediately get up and give up his seat for you. A few hours later you’d call over to him, “Karl, you’ve been standing for two hours now. Don’t you want your seat back already?” and he’d shush you with a “nonsense! I’m a big man. What’s a few hours more!?” Actually, he’d give up on everything to share with you if you needed, like earbuds. Or food. Anything. If nothing, it’s always the seat he saves for you or gives up for you. 

QUACKITY:

Mostly you would play Minecraft or Roblox with him, if you’re into it. And oh man, he’d enjoy that a lot. He would not leave you alone even in the game, he’d follow your character around for the majority of it. You’d turn around in the game and boom, he’s right there on your tail. He’s actually been there the whole time. When it’s not only you and him, but also other boys in the game and in the voice chat, he’d sometimes just... act like it was just the two of us talking. Listen, he’s not rude like that, but he just really likes talking to you. You just get him, he’d think. And sure, you have a similar sense of humour. He likes. He’d crack so many jokes and funny remarks throughout the whole game. Just trying to be the funniest person in the call for you. Every time someone else, like George, would laugh at his joke that he told to you, he’d shut him down with a “bro, the fuck? That joke was obviously meant for (Y/n). You weren’t supposed to get it.” All in good fun, again. He just likes having his moments with you.

Phone calls! So many phone calls. He just wants to talk to you and hear your voice. Isn’t that sweet? When it’s time to hang up, he’d tell you “ah, I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?” and you’d agree, thinking that he’ll call you again in a few days. But he calls you exactly a minute later. You’d pick up and he’d excitedly tell you “I said I’ll talk to you again soon, didn’t I? What do you mean this is ‘too soon?’” 

Would, gently, make fun of you. This doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Maybe he’d try turning the tables a little bit, when people online would get a little suspicious of his sudden fondness towards you, he’d make it seem like you are actually the one crushing on him, and not the other way. Maybe that would be also a way for him to test the waters a little bit, to see how you’d react to the thought of it. He’d just make ridiculous posts online, like tweeting a poll that says “Is (Y/N) down bad or down good for me ?? Idk about you guys but they seem a little obsessed lately” or post a picture of the two of you and caption it as “after this picture was taken (Y/n) told me they like me 😳” (You definitely didn’t and the people online seemed to side with you).

The words “I like you” has actually come out of his mouth a few times around you. In a friendly way. He knows he does like you, definitely as friends, but also definitely as more than friends. But for now, liking you as a friend is the most he can do and he wants to seize it. It was when he has done a nice favour for you or given you advice on a tough situation that’s been bothering you, when you’d thank him for what he did for you, he would reply with a “yeah, of course. I fucking like you, and care about you, so..”. It was a friendly reminder and affirmation and that’s how you perceived it. So he does tell you sometimes, not just in a way that it’d make you realise he likes you more than as a friend.

So, back to him gently making fun of you, or mocking you, he’d imitate you, your gestures. I can imagine he’d pull that with any of his friends, but you are definitely not safe from that. He’d know the limits though, he’d know not to be too harsh, but you know, from spending so much time with him and the others, you’ve kind of grown into it that there’s a lot of joking around and poking fun at each other. He’d also comment on your height, like so much height talk! If you were shorter than him, then bless you, he’d love it. Always teasing you, using you as an arm rest or asking if you need a ladder. Or you could be doing absolutely nothing and he’d tease you, “what? Do I make you nervous? You have a crush on me or something?” Orrrrr you could accidentally just mispronounce a word and he’d never let you live it down. Just reminding you of it and repeating it back to you like a parrot. But, don’t take any offence, it’s just his love language.

He’d make over-the-top fan-cams or edits of you, and purposefully make them as ridiculous and exaggerated as possible. Usually he’d also include himself in them. Making sure that everyone knows that he is your #1 shipper, but also at the same time not wanting everyone to figure it out that he’s got it bad for you. He’d put them up on Twitter regardless. You’d reply to him “wtf ???” and he’d just reply back to you “😎😎 😎” He’d dare to be more bold and confident online. And I know what you’re thinking, Alex shy in real life? Well, around you, yes, a little. But online, he’d be thriving, tweeting unhinged things at you, or of you.

He definitely has some gentleman-y in him. He’d express that by, for example, offering to carry your things for you. You’re carrying a rather heavy looking bag? “I’ll take this,” he’d just announce and snatch it out of your hands. You don’t have anywhere to put your phone or keys? Swoop, same thing, but they’d go in his pocket. A few times fans has gotten glimpses of him emptying his pockets for you and handing you back your phone and other little essentials, and it was a pretty adorable sight.

WILBUR: 

I mean, the way he’d even look at you gives it all away, it’d almost be a little intimidating. But he can’t help it. The way he listens to you talk and then smirks at himself, glancing piercingly at you, occasionally glancing down at his lap trying to hide his lovey-dovey smile, trying to collect his thoughts, because God, he thinks you are so adorable. I feel like his eyes can tell more than a million words could. It’s just too bad you haven’t figured out the real emotions behind his eyes.

He’d memorise pretty much every little habit of yours, no matter how little, and then slyly smirk at himself every time he’d catch you doing them. One of those days, he’ll definitely tell you that he has taken notice of them. You’d be caught off guard and ask him “you really notice them?” and there comes that smirk on his face again, as he just nods with a quiet “yeah” and then carries on the conversation like nothing happened. But not without adding on that “it’s really cute”.

A little cliche, a little predictable, but he’d definitely all of a sudden start writing down some new mysterious, a little mushy, song lyrics... He’d run them by you and ask if they’re any good, you’d then end up asking him the important question, “who is it about?” (because, how could you not ask when it’s literally a love letter in form of a song?) and he’d sigh and say it’s about “unrequited love”. You’d leave it at that, not wanting to intrude too much, since he looks and sounds so vulnerable. He’ll wish you would’ve intruded a little more though, since he literally wrote it about you, his crush! He just doesn’t leave it at one song, but writes a couple of them. All of them about you. He dreams of being able to play them at a gig, with you in the audience, telling you they’re all about you right before going on stage... Someday, he sighs.

As a person, and especially as a person who’s really crushing on you, he would be keen on sharing every little detail with his family and close friends. So, some of his family and friends would be aware of how he feels towards you. He trusts them not to spoil the secret and hey, he could never keep his mouth shut when it comes to talking about you anyway. Sometimes while hanging out with you, he’d keep checking his phone and just smiling at it, occasionally typing long paragraphs, or so it seemed to you. You’d wonder if it’s about something you said, or if there’s someone special texting him, someone who he really cares about and really wants to talk to instead. But actually, it’d be him blowing up his friends’ phones, telling them how adorable you’re being right now. He’d be doing the whole keyboard smash thing as well. That’s how gone he is for you.

Boom, his energy and happiness levels would suddenly rise whenever you’re in the room. He’d feel super playful too, like sneaking up behind you and then whisper “boo” in your ear in a low tone, trying to playfully frighten you, and when you’d turn around to face him, you’d come face to face with the brightest eyes and smile you’ve ever seen. He’s like the happiest he’ll ever be when he’s around you. No matter how many times he has already done that, he does it almost every time he catches you alone in the room. It had almost became your thing now. You’ve learned not to get as frightened anymore as you used to, and he has learned how much he really likes getting to come so close to you and getting a reaction out of you, whether it’d be you scolding him for scaring you again or laughing at his antics. 

Strumming something on his guitar for you. I know, again, very cliche, very cheesy, very romantic, very predictable of him, but no, he doesn’t do that just for anybody. But you’re very special. (Even though you don’t know how special yet). And to spice things up a bit, he’ll make it a little more lighthearted, he’d literally play you memes, or vines. Yeah, for example, you know that “I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” vine? Mayyyybe he’d replace the word ‘bitch’, with some platonic pet name, if he was feeling generous, lol. But yeah, just not to make things seem too serious, he’d try to make you laugh with those amusing private performances, and also try to flex a little with his guitar playing, of course. If you’d admire him in his element, strumming away on his guitar, a little too much, he’d get super cocky and yeah... Cocky Wilbur is a whole different breed.

Everything you’d ever feel embarrassed about, he’d embrace it. He’d never let you dwell on something embarrassing that happening to you for too long. If you’d totally mess up your words, or stumble and fall over, or be caught talking or singing to yourself, he’d reassure you that he finds it “very cute” and not embarrassing at all. In some situations, if you’d mess up and embarrass yourself in front of a lot of people, or in public, he’d intentionally mess up with you, just to take the attention away from you and make you feel better about it. You’d fall over? He’d make himself trip too. You’d bump against a glass door? He’ll be right there behind you to walk into it as well. He’d just never let you feel like there’s ever anything worth feeling too embarrassed over and, in his thoughts, how could anyone as adorable as you even be embarrassing? If anything, it’s just cute.

FOOLISH: 

Oh man, he’d be an awkward one at first when he’d realize his strong feelings towards you, but he does get a lot smoother with time. And, he’s trying his best, okay.

He’d also be someone who would find it very important to make you laugh lots, be an entertainer just for you. Because he doesn’t think there is anything more attractive than someone he’s able to laugh with over the most ridiculous things, things that always wouldn’t even make sense to others. And yeah, also seeing you laugh is attractive to him, even more attractive if you’re laughing at a joke he made. Basically just whenever you’d be hanging out, it’d be an ongoing urge for him: must make you laugh. Sometimes it’d be him just squatting down to your level and starting to make random noises in your ear. That’s literally his sense of humour... And it’d be even more hilarious for him, if you’d do the same back to him. The most random noises he could think of, chirping, squeaking, beeping.... anything. Or suddenly starting up a game of tag with you, running around chasing each other, and the only way to tag each other was to tickle them. He’d squeal and wiggle like a worm when you would tickle him. It’s always something silly with him...

Protective Foolish would suddenly become a thing when he’d realize his feelings for you, and also realize that there’s nothing more he wants to do than protect you and your feelings. Keep you away from anything or anyone that could make you feel even a little uncomfortable, or hurt. His way of protecting and defending you would be just a chunk of sarcasm coming out of his mouth. He’d turn sarcastic any time when he’d feel like it’s time to protect you. If there was someone badmouthing you, he’d put on the most spiteful face you could think of and with his voice dripping with sarcasm, he’d ask them “is it so? Is that what you think, now? Was there a little shit talking there, or what?” You could tell that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to do this, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d be so intimidating, with his tone and height and all, that he could get an apology out of anyone. And he usually does get the people badmouthing you to apologize to you, while Foolish just stands there with his arms crossed examining that it’s a genuine apology, feeling like he has accomplished another mission of his, which is to make sure that in the end your feelings are unharmed. 

Now, he’d be definitely someone who would mess up his hair a little on purpose, in hopes that you would fix it for him and smother the strands sticking up back in place. He’s so desperate for some touch from you that he’d go to such extreme lengths. God forbid if anyone would catch him doing that, he’d be so embarrassed. You’d turn around from him for a few seconds, which would give him time to very aggressively ruffle his hair with his hands and when you’d look back at him, his hair would suddenly look like it’s been through a tornado, and so you’d laugh a little and ask him “what happened? What’s going on with your hair?” and then laugh some more because he looks so ridiculous. He’d chuckle a little bit too, a little out of embarrassment, because he still can’t believe himself for the things he’s doing just to have you touch him and pay a little extra-attention to him. But regardless, he just shrugs and bends down to your level and asks you “I don’t know what happened? What? Is it bad? Fix it for me?” and you’d be a little taken aback because, did he really just ask you to do that? But of course you’d agree to it. 

Every little thing or favour you’d do for him, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem to you, he’d appreciate the heck out of them, and you. Because, was there a better feeling for him than having the person he truly, genuinely likes, to be willing to help him out with anything? He’d thank you a trillion times, and a trillion more if he could. Something as simple as you turning on the coffee machine for him, he’d tell you “seriously, thank you. That helped me like, a tons. It saved my day,” and you’d giggle and reply to him “you’re welcome. But all I did was just press a button.” He wouldn’t have that belittling, so he’d be a little more dramatic just for you and proceed to tell you how much easier it made his day, “no, like seriously, that was the best thing you could’ve ever done for me.” Okay, then.

A crushing Foolish would be so sweet that he’d totally blew off his other plans to be with you instead. You’d know that he’s been looking forward to seeing this movie with a couple of his friends that one night, but when he’d become aware of how you have no plans for that night, he’d declare how he’d rather spend the night with you anyways. You’d tell him that “Foolish, you don’t really have to do this. I thought you were supposed to go the mov-?” and he’d interrupt you “now, that’d a silly thing for me to do, I don’t know why you’re thinking like I’d leave you alone. That’s crazy thinking right there.” And so, you’d just settle for smiling coyly at him and accepting that he’s not going anywhere, and that for some reason (that’s still unclear to you), he’d even blow off his friends for you. And he’d do it over and over again. And he does.

PUNZ: 

Ouch, he’s a tough one to get to. But once you breakthrough the walls and the sort of intimidating facade he has, he is all soft for his crush.

Usually he’d be a little reserved and keep to himself, maybe a little closed off. But whenever you’d be around, it’s a whole different thing. He has never smiled so much than he did that one day when you hung around, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other boys who were also there. Karl would text you about it after you had all gone home and ask you “What did you to punz ?? This man won’t stop cheesin” and Quackity as well would text you “punz today be like ‘😃😃’”. You’d make him happy, you’d just make him love life, just purely by existing and especially when you’d exist in his presence. He’s also extra observant around you, and so you’d catch him looking at you a lot. He’d just rest his chin on his hand and not take his eyes off of you. You’d wonder if there’s something wrong, something on your face perhaps, by the intense way he’s staring at you, but no, he’s just admiring. So let him.

Every picture of himself he’d consider posting on social media, he’d send them to you first and ask you “u like??”. Kind of like a test run. He’d do it ritually almost each time, but if you ever were to call him out for it, asking how come you’re the one he sends them to, he’d claim that it’s just all a coincidence. Sure is... But you better reply back to him as soon as you can, or he would start feeling a little insecure and think if you really like them, because if you do, why haven’t you replied yet? It’s been 20 seconds. Yeah, so, he’s a little clingy too. He just wants to talk to you as much as possible, have you see as much of him as possible, from all of his best angles as well, and maybe fish for a few compliments? Maybe. After you’d reply to him “yes, it’s good”, he’d text you back “nice. now your turn”, and you’d ask him that it’s your turn for exactly what? He’ll tell you then that it’s only fair that you send him a picture of yourself too in that exact moment. And so, it kind of really then becomes a whole ritual that after approving of his picture, you send him one back with a thumbs up or something.

Unlike with anyone else, now that he has taken a massive liking towards you, he’d actually share his food with you. And that’s major. Or, even more major and better, he’d sometimes get you food without you even having to ask, or even without mentioning that you’re hungry. He’d order takeaway for himself, or so you’d think, but he’d then turn up with an extra large portion of food and you’d ask him “damn, are you feeding the whole town?” He’d chuckle a little and then casually tell you that “nah, it’s um, it’s for you.” At that, you could’ve fallen off your seat. Let’s call it his love language to serve you even when you don’t ask for anything.

This man, he would sometimes not show up to plans if you weren’t there. He’d tell his friends that he is only willing to come if you’ll be there too. And if they tell him that you’re not going to be there, then, too bad. He simply just wouldn’t come. Any plans that you’d make without him, he’d call them ‘boring’ and ‘lame’. Sooo, he only is your good time?

[lixie-phoria]

ੈ✩‧➛ jeongin thinks he's subtle as he pines over you

pairing : jeongin x gn reader

genre : fluff | warnings : none

chan's ver. | hyunjin's ver. | felix's ver. | lee know's ver. | changbin's version | han's ver.

"are you absolutely sure the sneakers go well with these pants?"

"yes."

"like one hundred percent? because i'm meeting y/n today and-"

"yes, jeongin. they match. perfectly."

jeongin groans as seungmin cuts him off mid-sentence, hesitantly checking out his outfit in the mirror.

"what if y/n doesn't like it?"

"when have they ever disliked anything that you wear?"

seungmin had a point, so jeongin shuts up. momentarily, of course.

"what about the sweater? should i wear it or-"

"it's literally sweltering outside and you're asking me if you should wear a sweater?"

"yes because it matches y/n's cardigan!"

it's seungmin's turn to groan as he finally sets down his phone and turns to look at the younger boy properly.

"matching outfits with y/n is a terrible way to tell them that you're in love with them."

"i am not-"

"please. don't even finish that."

jeongin scoffs, pulling out his phone to see the picture you had posted.

this had become a daily routine not just for him but the rest of his members too.

everyday you would post your ootd and jeongin would be one of the first few to view it, immediately hunting through his wardrobe for something that would match yours.

it was childish of him, really. he was aware of that much too. but he enjoyed it so much.

even though it was far from a coincidence that his outfit almost always matched yours, it never failed to bring a smile on your face and jeongin loved it. he supposed it had something to do with how it played into his fantasy that maybe someday he would gather enough courage to ask you out and you would say yes.

"hyung are you sure that this shade of blue isn't too light?"

"yes. now will you please stop fussing over this."

"but-"

"jeongin, you're already 10 minutes late. you're supposed to be picking up y/n in 20."

that jars the boy into reality as he hastily gathers his phone and car keys, shouting a thanks over his shoulder as he rushes out their shared dorm.

seungmin sighs as he picks his phone up again, scrolling to your contact and typing in a quick message.

[ seungminnie ] do us all a favor and acknowledge jeongin's outfit today please?

[ you ] of course :)

[ seungminnie ] and maybe acknowledge his big fat crush on you too because he never will

[ you ] no guarantee <3

seungmin huffs.

it had been months and it seemed like just about everyone knew about jeongin's crush on you. heck, even you were aware of it.

but nobody could ever convince the boy to confess, and you enjoyed flustering him too much to admit it yourself. so until one of you decided to be mature about it, everyone was going to be stuck seeing jeongin match outfits with you everyday and try to be as subtle about it as possible.

©lixie-phoria, 2023

🏷️ @lethallyprotected @dreamingaboutjisung @selcayuri @uno7 @aak22 @foxinnie8 (send an ask to be added/removed from the taglist :))

[minghaoslatina]

WHAT A COINCIDENCE!

pairing: idol!wooyoung x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex but not really, making out, condoms, pregnancy test, fluff

a/n 💌: the way I said I would post this like last week 😅🔫

now playing 🎧 supernatural by ariana grande

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You and Wooyoung exchange puzzled looks as you both step into the dance studio. All the members are already there, and they give you both curious glances as you walk in.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, feeling perplexed by their suspicious expressions.

"We should be asking you that," Hongjoong responds with a hint of mystery in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Wooyoung sets down his dance bag and joins the rest of the members. Just as the tension in the room escalates, their backup dancers burst in, ready to learn a new choreography.

"We'll talk about it later," Seonghwa says with a slight smirk.

You shoot Wooyoung a confused look and step aside to observe them dance. Wooyoung always insists on having you there, claiming you're his good luck charm, but you know he just wants to impress you. Nonetheless, you enjoy watching him do what he loves.

As their practice draws to a close, you find yourself feeling a bit uneasy. What did the members need to talk to you and Wooyoung about? Before you can dwell on it further, Wooyoung collapses next to you on the floor and reaches out his arm dramatically as if he's about to faint. You chuckle and reach into your backpack for a water bottle to give him as everyone leaves except Wooyoung and his members.

"My girl is the best," Wooyoung sighs as he sits up to gulp down the water. You can't help but notice a few water droplets trickling down his pretty neck.

"Are you pregnant?" Mingi's sudden question catches both of you off guard, the words hanging in the air like a shocking revelation. Wooyoung's eyes widen, and he starts choking on his water. You quickly stand up and pat him on the back before turning to face the members, your mind reeling with disbelief.

"No! Why would you think that?" you ask in disbelief. The boys exchange glances before looking at Hongjoong, who seems to be hiding something behind his back.

"This fell out of your purse yesterday while you were here..." Wooyoung nearly faints when he sees Hongjoong pull out a pregnancy test. The room falls silent, the tension palpable, as everyone waits for an explanation.

"I can explain," you hastily interject before Wooyoung jumps to conclusions.

"Is that yours? But we've never..." You quickly cover his mouth before he says anything.

"Never what?" Yeosang asks, genuinely confused.

"Had se-" Yunho is quick to cover Mingi's mouth. Yeosang now regrets his life decisions.

Jongho looks at you, puzzled. "Then why do you have a pregnancy test?" he asks.

You took a deep breath before responding, knowing that this was supposed to be a secret. "A female staff member asked me to do her a favor and get her a pregnancy test. She seemed really scared, and I felt bad for her, so I agreed to help. She gave me the money, and I bought it for her. Just to clarify, I am not pregnant, nor do I have any intention of getting pregnant," you explained, hoping to ease the tension. Wooyoung frowned at your words, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and disappointment, but decided to stay silent for the moment. The others nodded slowly as if they were processing your words.

Right on cue, the female staff member walked in nervously, her eyes darting around the room. You discreetly took the pregnancy test from Hongjoong and handed it to her with a polite smile. The members, their curiosity piqued, stay silent out of respect, their eyes staying on the ground.

"Can we go now?" you ask, nodding toward the dance studio door.

"Yes, let's head out," Wooyoung responds, reaching for his black bag in the corner. The rest of the boys also gather their belongings, preparing to shower and unwind for the day.

"Wooyoung, do you have an extra water bottle?" San asks as he notices two spare water bottles in Wooyoung's open bag.

"No, I don't," Wooyoung replies playfully.

"Come on, just one, please," San pleads, tugging at one strap of his open bag while Wooyoung holds onto the other. They engage in a playful tug-of-war over the water bottles. Everything seems to go in slow motion as the bag falls, and a bunch of condoms appear on the floor. You are the first to cover your mouth in surprise. Half the members burst out laughing while the others stood there in shock.

"Liars! You're pregnant," Mingi accuses, pointing toward you and Wooyoung back and forth.

"I swear those are not mine," Wooyoung panics, "Baby, I swear, those are not mine," he says, facing you. You are still in shock with a hand over your mouth. A pregnancy test? Condoms? This looks so wrong.

"Wow, you guys are freaks," San laughs after picking up a condom and reading the size.

"At least they're using protection," Seonghwa shrugs. You are about to explain the misunderstanding before one of the backup dancers walks in.

"Wooyoung, I think I took your bag by accident," the backup dancer explains with a chuckle. He does not seem the least bit bothered that his condoms are on the floor. Wooyoung is quick to exchange the bags and lets out a sigh of relief when he leaves.

"See? I told you they weren't mine," Wooyoung explains, with a look of relief on his face. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you take a moment to let the tension drain away.

"Things keep getting weirder and weirder," Yeosang sighs, his brow furrowed as he exits the dance studio. As the other members follow Yeosang out, it's just you and Wooyoung left in the room.

"Wow, what a crazy coincidence," you say, trying to infuse some humor into the situation as you let out a nervous laugh and a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... who would have thought," Wooyoung says, his brow still slightly furrowed in contemplation.

"Is everything okay?" you ask, with a tinge of worry in your voice. You hope he doesn't think you're being dishonest. The thought of him doubting you is unbearable.

"Can I ask you something?" Wooyoung hesitates before speaking. "Do you not want to have kids?"

"Um, well, not right now," you reply, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. You'd never really considered it until now. Before meeting Wooyoung, you hadn't pictured yourself having children, but his kind and compassionate nature has made you reconsider everything. Your sweet, sweet Wooyoung. His heart is so big.

"So, you do want kids?" Wooyoung's eyes light up with hope. He's worried about pushing you too hard, but he's relieved to hear your answer.

"Yeah, I think I do. Especially if you're the dad," you say with a shy grin, gently nudging him. He chuckles warmly and takes hold of your hand.

"It would be an honor to be the father of our kids," he says with a genuine smile.

Your heart swells with joy. "Our kids," you say softly.

"Let's head out, pretty," Wooyoung says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before guiding you out of the room.

As you both drive to his dorm, the two of you excitedly discuss potential baby names, playfully teasing each other along the way. When you arrive at the dorm, the other members are all gathered in front of the TV, engrossed in a soccer game. Wooyoung quickly freshens up and joins them, and you decide to relax and watch Netflix in his room.

An hour later, Wooyoung enters the room and closes the door behind him. He immediately collapses on top of you, causing you to let out a surprised yelp before embracing him.

"I missed you already," Wooyoung whines, squeezing you tightly.

"It's only been an hour," you laugh, feeling grateful for his affection.

"Too long," Wooyoung mumbles, unwilling to let go as he holds you close.

"I can totally picture our future kids being just as affectionate as you," you tease, playfully poking the dot on his lips.

"You think?" Wooyoung giggles, adjusting his position on top of you to catch your gaze.

"Absolutely," you nod and smile up at him. He looks into your eyes for a second before he starts making out with you. You quickly pull away from your compromising position when someone opens the door.

"Mingi, you have terrible timing!" you exclaim as Mingi jokingly yells, "Liars!" before quickly closing the door.

Feeling a little flustered, you seek refuge in Wooyoung's embrace, burying your face in his chest. Wooyoung laughs with you, resting his forehead against yours.

"Should we start making babies now," Wooyoung suggests playfully while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up," you laugh and push him off you (out of love).

You've never felt so happy.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[tobi-smp]

you know, with hindsight now what it is I really do think a more literal reading of c!techno's chat would have helped his characterization a Lot

and mind you, this was originally intended to be the case, and very well may have been intended all along even if it wasn't usually emphasized within the lore

and don't get me wrong, I Get why it fell out of favor within the fandom. it coincides with a Very storied ableist trope that demonizes DID and disorders adjacent to it, and Can be spoken about in a way that is essentially indistinguishable from it depending on the word choice.

but the thing is ! not only does it not Have to be an allegory for DID, I straight up don't think it is At All.

because we Know what it's an allegory for. It's His Chat. there's technoblade playing the game, and there's the thousands of people watching with expectations and wants that he's compelled to meet (or, at the very least, pacify through Entertainment).

and this makes much Much more sense when conceived of as Supernatural. be that spirits, gods, demons, or anything that could fill that role. separate entities that, for whatever reason, only techno can sense the presence of and be affected by.

and of course, to an extent this is true for all creators. everyone had an audience that they were meant to entertain and the choices they made were influenced by that fact.

but technoblade came in with a Very distinct set of expectations that heavily impacted the choices he was Expected to make and the kinds of stories that he could tell. he was more or less a living legend in real life just as much as he was in roleplay, and these things were inherently connected.

and it's like !

when c!technoblade says he was peer pressured into killing tubbo at the red festival he Is technically talking about what happened within the roleplay. schlatt was demanding it from him, there's a sort of pressure there. but schlatt was also the dictator they were set to kill, and techno has never had any trouble fighting people he considered a dictator before, and certainly not Schlatt of all people.

but he WAS being peer pressured By His Audience. by thousands of people, most of which were demanding blood Because It Was The Expectation, because it'd be Fun.

out of universe technoblade made the decision he thought would be the most Entertaining, and he was right! consistently he made choices that would let him do the most bombastic Spectacles possible. And It's Great. he's Excellent at pulling dramatics and making a compelling scene that give other people room to work off of. in that sense I'd consider techno an Excellent actor, and I have to imagine that he was fun to work with.

the problem is when you then have to justify it from an in character perspective, grounded in those mushy things like Feelings with characters that can be traumatized and sustain lasting damage, Especially Without acknowledging the out of character incentive.

mind you, it's not Impossible to Create a backstory that could justify it. why a character as consistently powerful and feared as technoblade would feel pressured to kill an ally by someone he not only Can kill but Wanted To Kill. why a character as seemingly secure and in control as technoblade would lash out the way that he does to perceived betrayal, and yet consistently puts no weight onto having killed and permanently scarred an ally that trusted him.

what that'd need is tragedy. a storied history of being hurt and having to survive. building up To an untouchable god from a much much more vulnerable position. Long Lasting trauma that's lead to this deep insecurity and paranoia. and that's Possible and that's Compelling.

but it's just not in the text.

not only did we never learn basically Anything that c!technoblade was up to pre-series, we actually know Less by the end than when we started because of the sbi retconning.

it's a Theoretically Possible interpretation that's technically never Contradicted by canon, but would have to be created by scratch. it's a compelling idea for a fan fic (and one I'd like to read) and it's compelling for a theoretical recontextualization of the character, but it's just not In The Text.

meanwhile, we have the video above.

we have the Objective Fact that technoblade's decision making was often subject to the rule of cool (very Very effectively) to entertain his audience.

and most compellingly, these concepts Don't Need To Be Separate. in fact, in my opinion they're Stronger when you put them together.

because the thing is. it's Difficult to imagine techno as ever being in a vulnerable position. he is just Objectively more powerful than everyone else on the server, both in real life And within the lore. How could he have ever been afraid when he was stronger than anyone and everyone combined? when we saw with our own eyes that techno could face nearly the whole server at once and win.

but he Is a tragic character, at least he's meant to be. and that tragedy makes much Much more sense as something Inward.

technoblade as a character who Needs connection, who Needs stability, who Needs security, who Needs friendship and community and Love. but Lashes Out, Obliterates to the core of the earth, because of something that's not only out of his control but that other people Cannot Understand.

how do you explain to a child that you killed their best friend because a chorus of the undead called for his blood and you (in all the glory that he'd idolized) were unable to do anything but comply? how do you explain to that child that you beat him senseless in a pit as the restless dead jeered and laughed?

That's interesting. That's Compelling.

technoblade is idolized like a god, feared like a force of nature, and in an instant cut himself off from nearly everyone who'd considered him an ally. and that seems to be a pattern, over and over and over again. he's left isolated, and in return he faces retaliation, and in return he's always Waiting for retaliation.

and what do you say to someone who wants to kill you for being a monster? that it's Fine Actually because you only did what you did because you have a curse that compels you to? that the supernatural guided you to destroy their homes and kill their people? (rip jack manifold you will be missed)?

That Doesn't Quite Help Your Case.

technoblade as someone who is beholden to this literal cycle of violence and Loses those things that could ground him, community, stability, People, as a result. who Tries to overcome this very fact (to become a better person, in his own words as per the clip above), but is pulled back into it as a consequence of his own actions.

that's a tragedy !! that Makes Sense. that allows him to be Both this force of nature that other characters have to survive And A Person Who Is Hurt By The Same Conflict.

"I'm a person!" that fear of dehumanization makes So So Much More Sense when you see technoblade as someone who Already fears himself. who fears being a monster, who fears losing control, who has faced isolation again and again and again.

and, importantly, it doesn't have to be anyone else's Fault.

by making the source both Internal and Completely External (something that none of the other characters have any awareness or control over), you can Have techno as a tragic character without demonizing anyone else Or erasing the impact that c!techno had on them.

and in that sense, it Can be an allegory for mental illness, but not in that direct "oooooh how scary he hears voices" kind of way that people fear it looks. but in that sometimes people Will do things that can hurt others while not feeling in control. anger and mania and paranoia, things that you can't always Control and yet that impact that you have on other people still Matters.

and the answer to that is, often, vulnerability and accountability.

I think a lot about technoblade isolating himself so near entirely from the rest of the server, and slowly gathering a support system Back by the end. and I Really Do think that framing of it through this lens is a Very impactful way of breaking it down.

tubbo, tommy, wilbur, ranboo, niki, I think they'd All understand not feeling in control. lashing out, maybe even feeling justified in the moment, but hurting people they care about and furthering their own isolation.

There's Something There, and it's already In The Text. it just needs to be expanded on.

and why not do that ourselves now?

[germiyahu]

When you try to make the legacy of the Holocaust a political favor done to Jews, you are paving the road to Holocaust denial. You're even planting nice trees on the boulevard!

To the historically illiterate Westerner, the true sincere belief is that Israel was "gifted" to the Jews as an apology for the Holocaust. This is actually a quite ingenious mental strategy to handle the cognitive dissonance of both wholeheartedly believing the society you live in was the "hero" of the story, but also that Western society is morally bankrupt and worthless.

See the West saved the Jews from the Nazis, but they also severely blundered by rewarding Jewish suffering with the state of Israel. It's clever. You can feel good about being the hero but also curse your own society for turning around and doing something that you'll argue was even worse in the long run (and they have been saying it's worse).

But then, it gets better! Since Israel is seen as an extension of Europe, and arm of European ideology and interest, it can be argued that the West had good intentions when they magnanimously decided to give Jews someone else's homeland. But they could never have predicted how brutal, how violent, how racist, how genocidal, the Israelis would end up being. You can curse the West but acknowledge it's not really their fault, because then it's not really your fault either.

All this context of the Holocaust being a "lesson to learn" or a precursor to some political reward for the Jews, that Jews have always been crafty and Westerners gullible... it's already on the precipice for those with conspiracy oriented minds. And this is already true and we've all seen it on social media. To those who think the Israel was a reward for the Holocaust, they think that the Holocaust warranted a "reward" in the first place. They can switch those around, and start thinking the Holocaust was a pretext to Israel. They can think that the Holocaust was exaggerated to wring more sympathy from the Europeans. They can think that the Holocaust was staged to trick the West into enacting the Jews' grand plan.

All it takes when you're at this point thinking of the Holocaust as transactional, is a genuine Neo Nazi, or perhaps a Hamas simp, to come along and say "Isn't it suspicious though? Don't you think there are inconsistencies? You should really check out..." and due to the coincidences and incorrect narratives that you made up in your brain, that have no basis in reality, you just might consider hearing them out.

So no, the Holocaust is not being weaponized or hijacked, for any reason. It was a historical event that happened. There are no lessons for the victims of all people to learn. There was no divine intervention or grand conspiracy to make the Holocaust about anything, or use it to bring about some political goal. You want there to be one or all of these things, because it justifies your preconceived notions about Jews.

So if a person is at this point, thinking the Holocaust was transactional, thinking that Israel was a reward, they're already on the road to Holocaust denial. And at this time in the Zeitgeist, they are way more likely than normal to go down that road, readily and eagerly. So be careful, be more cognizant if you actually care about the legacy of this genocide, about honoring its victims and its survivors and their descendants.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

You're my emergency contact.

König x reader.

Everything started with a simple favor and it all ended with your emergency contact accidentally attending your call.

(Give a ♥️ if you enjoyed it)

Warning: perhaps it is a very long and not good story, mentions of violence, as always grammatical and spelling errors.

📢 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You're König's neighbor, he's rarely at home so he asked you to keep an eye on his apartment, he gave you his number, just in case something happened.

- Danke, I Know I'm asking too much but I will give you my number, just... In case something happens, ja?

Your smile when he gives you his number In a piece of paper, he will never recover from that moment.

- For sure, it's not a problem, and thank you König I hope there's no need to use it for an emergency, I would prefer to use it in other circumstances.

-Ja, totally agree, well I have to go, thank you so much Schatz.

- Okay, have a nice trip König, see you!.

As soon as he left and you closed the door you started to jump with excitement, you finally had his number, you tried so hard for the last months to start a friendship with him and this is a big step for you.

But... What's next? You thought. After a few days you got an idea, you sent him a message.

«Hi König, I'm your neighbor, I forgot to give you my number, so here it is.»

An hour passed, two hours, four... Maybe it was a bad idea, then.

«Danke :D»

That's all? Well, at least he texted you back. You decided to not insist, maybe he was busy, another week passed, you really want to text him, why? Why do you want to be around him?

«captain's log: König's house is still safe, a package arrived at your door. :)»

You sent a selfie out of his door. A Risky move, you were getting nervous when you saw «seen» under the message.

«Hallo Schatz, danke for the notice, can you save the package at your house?, I'll pick it up when I arrive» «P.S. you look very pretty today ;)»

That was the beginning, for months you started to text each other. You send a lot of pictures about anything while he rarely sends you something, usually sunsets or just the sky. When he's at home you invite him to eat at your house or to drink a beer, you don't know yet but for König this is more than he expected, you and him are good together, jokes, loud laughs and a good conversation are always present when you're together, he's happy, he feels better with you, he feels affection for you.

- Well, this week I won't be at home for a few days, I hope you don't mind.

- What? Nein! Don't worry, I won't be at home either, I have some work, just a few days.

- ahh well maybe we will arrive home at the same time!

- ja! It would be a coincidence, a good one. Where will you go?

- Oh, my Mom's house, I'll visit her for a few days, my flight is this Wednesday, and I'll be back on Monday.

- Ah that's really nice, I hope you have a nice moment with her.

(...)

You're ready to take your flight, you were just waiting, when a group of armed men appeared.

- okay everybody, lay on the floor! We will not harm you if you obey!

Some people started to run, others screamed, the sound of shotguns...

The same man was shooting, while the rest of his companions were capturing people, you were on the floor, you took your phone and pressed the quick "emergency button" an old app your mother made you download just in case you needed, you knew it was useless because you and your mother lived far from each other, but after König gave you his number you added him on the emergency contacts list.

König was on his way to a mission when he Received a text. Your app sent a message with your location, an audio and a short video of what the camera phone could record, in those 15 seconds a man was yelling at you and others.

He opened it and saw that your location was the same as where he was going, he froze when he saw you were a hostage, the biggest fear, rage and desire to protect you grew inside him.

He and his team arrived, but they couldn't access the place easily, every door had a bomb, they didn't know if those were real or false but they couldn't take the risk, they started to plan and work.

You and the other hostages were on the floor, the group of men were kicking, yelling and hitting you, one of them was enjoying hurting you, taller than you and corpulent, you couldn't do much to protect yourself, he made you stand up pulling you by the hair, you yelped and asked him to stop.

- Sit this one in that chair, we're going to start the show.

You were sitting, you looked like a scared puppy, why you? What will they do to you? Why are they doing all this? What they want?. One of the men started to record everything, while another was talking and showing a photograph of a criminal.

- (...) Yeah, so we have hostages here, innocent people who are in serious danger, if you don't let this man free, we will start to torture and kill everybody in this place, we have bombs everywhere, don't be stupid and don't try to send cops or any kind of shitty government deal maker, those are our conditions.

Both men walked to you, while the guy who initially selected you to be tortured was ready to play his twisted game, he made you stand up from that chair.

- This pretty one is the first, we need an answer in 15 min or this one will be dead soon. Let's start...

You looked at all of them, scared, begging them to not do it, a knife cutting deep your thighs, a punch on your eye, your nose and mouth were bleeding, your ribs broken, you were crying, yelling because of the pain, one of them was ready to stab you when a big man dressed in black shoot at him, a clean headshot, you fell on the floor while all the men started to run, shoot and fight, you saw more people in black joining to the fight, you can't focus your view, you can't see clearly, you're fainting, you saw this big guy approaching, you can't see his face, he's wearing a black mask or something, he's talking to you but you can't hear him well.

- Schatz! Look at me, stay with us! Do you hear me?

Schatz? You remember that word, but... Where? Who? You're exhausted, your body aches, you're probably hallucinating.

«Hey! Prepare an ambulance!» you hear him yell at someone else then he carried you in his arms, this strange blurry guy in black saved you, you rested your head in his chest, you're feeling sleepy.

- Schatz, Mein Liebling, stay awake, I'm taking you to the ambulance, you will be fine, ja?

You didn't listen to him anymore, you closed your eyes, you just had flashbacks of the trip In the ambulance but that was all.

After two days you finally opened your eyes. There's a white lamp in the ceiling, the smell of medicine and sickness, a hospital? Were you alive?

You tried to sit but the pain in your ribs prevented you and a familiar voice filled the silence of the room.

- Hey, easy Schatz, you're fine, you're in the hospital.

There he was, König was in a chair close to you, he looked tired, and... Was he wearing black? What's going on?

- König? What... What's going on? What happened? Why are you here, what happened with your job?

He just let a small laugh out and handed you a glass of water.

- too many questions, drink some water first please, ja? You are in the hospital because you were hurt after the airport attack, I'm here because apparently I'm one of your emergency contacts... Schatz, Do you remember what happened in the airport?

You looked at him carefully, his voice, his clothes, and that word, «Schatz». Was he the one who saved you?

- I remember I was waiting to board the plane when those men appeared, then I... Well... You're my emergency contact, so I sent the emergency text, I remember those men hitting and hurting me and I remember the man who saved me, you probably will think I'm crazy but... That man looked pretty much like you... But he was covering his face with a mask or something.

He smiled nervously at you and hid his face with his hands.

- Was it you könig?

He looked at you once again and nodded in silence, the surprise in your face made him more nervous, he never told you about his job but you weren't expecting to find it out in this way.

- You never told me about your job...

You were playing with your hands and the glass, he was looking at his shoes, talking almost in a whisper.

- I can't talk about it... For your protection... And because it's better if you don't know how and who I am at work.

You don't want to make him feel as if you were angry or uncomfortable with it, you're just surprised, he looks too shy and kind to work in something like that.

- I understand... And I know it was really a coincidence and that you were just doing your job but... thanks for saving me.

He doesn't respond, he's still looking at his shoes. As if he was a little boy in trouble.

- König?

- Hmm?

- I won't ask you about your job, If you can't tell me about it, I'm fine with it... look at me Kö.

He finally looked at you, he looked sad or ashamed but you smiled at him and took his big hand on yours.

- Thank you for saving me. You're a good emergency contact.

You blinked your good eye at him, He smiled at you and kissed your hand.

- Just call and I'll be there Schatz.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Welcome To My Masterlist!

My name is Alli and I write sometimes.

Masterlist under the cut

✨Top Gun: Maverick✨

Series:

✨Bradley Bradshaw:

Remember You Even When I Don't: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement. (completed)

The Forgotten Moments: A One Shot Collection: Before he had to remember you, Bradley got to experience the whirlwind that was meeting and falling in love with you (the first time).

All stories in the collection can be read independently, but will precede or coincide with Remember You Even When I Don't.

This Love Came Back to Me: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; truly, you stopped before the two of you could even really begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. (completed)

One Shots:

✨ Bradley Bradshaw:

A Change to Everything: Marriage wasn’t an option for you. Bradley knew this and had promised you that what you had is and would always be enough for him. A few overpriced rings wouldn’t change that, so long as you promised to love him forever without one. But he buys you one anyway, and despite every promise you made to yourself, you wonder what it would be like if maybe, just maybe, you ever decided to put it on. 

What Goes Around (Comes Around): Bradley didn’t do relationships, and neither did you. The arrangement you had worked perfectly for ten years, getting together whenever your paths crossed. But after the two of you were stationed permanently on the same squad, suddenly what you have isn’t quite enough for him anymore. It’s not until a close call in the air that he finally gathers the courage to admit it. 

To Make a House a Home: House hunting in California was proving to be a challenge. Leave it to Bradley to manage to pull off the biggest surprise you’ve ever gotten. 

The Art of Subtlety: You were quiet, almost shy, but Bradley suspected there was more to you than meets the eye. When Jake claims that it’s impossible for a woman to successfully fake an orgasm, you prove him wrong (while proving Bradley absolutely right) right there in the middle of the Hard Deck. With his world tilted on its axis at your little display, he’s left wondering: why are you so good at faking it, and how would you really sound if he’s the one bringing you pleasure?

Dancing in the Dark: Bradley was never one for clubs. Flashing lights, dance remixes of the same four songs, and overpriced watered down drinks just weren’t his thing. But you had begged him so prettily to go with you that he couldn’t help but agree. It was exactly as bad as he thought it was going to be, but when he saw how irresistible you looked on the dance floor, he decided to get his revenge in a way that left both of you satisfied but wanting more. 

Clandestine Meetings: Bradley was coming home today. Six weeks on a no-contact deployment, stuck on a carrier in the middle of some non disclosed body of water, and he’s finally coming home. Normally, you’d be bursting at the seams with happy excitement. But the two of you had left things in an...interesting place. When he’s finally standing in front of you, you can tell by his cold and dark eyes that he remembers, too. But he’s had six weeks to think of exactly how you can earn his forgiveness, and you’re all too willing to do anything it takes. 

Keep It Undercover: You and Bradley had shared a few beautiful weeks together, years after first meeting. You had been content with leaving it as a beautiful, delicious memory; something that could have been, if the stars would have aligned. Only now he was stationed in Fightertown permanently, and while he didn’t know what exactly that meant for the two of you long term, he knew what he wanted. He didn’t care about your age or that you outranked him. After all, he had always liked his girls a little bit older. 

The Over/Under: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.

✨Javy Machado:

I Don't Love You Like I Used To: After so many years with you, Javy Machado doesn't love you like he used to. He loves you so much more. For roosterforme's #love is in the air tgm Writing Challenge!

The Double Negative Effect: Javy knows deep down after he goes into G-LOC that he’s not going to be selected for the mission. He goes to a bar on his own to drink away some of his sorrows, and while he’s there, he meets someone who is having just as rough of a time as he is. Misery loves company, and together, they cancel out the bad day the other is having, replacing it with a night they’ll remember for all the right reasons. 

And I Want To Make Her Mine: Javy thought it was too good to be true when he saw you, the girl he had crushed on for almost a year, standing in the Hard Deck. But there you were, looking just as beautiful as you always had. He thought maybe he’d finally get his chance with you after all this time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one whose attention you caught.

Merry Christmas Mishaps: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way. 

The Great Escape: All you wanted on your wedding day was some time alone with your new husband. Luckily for you, Javy was more than game to make an escape and has just the hiding place in mind.

An Aviation Special: You had always wanted to experience Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but when it starts to go sideways thanks to your travel companions, you fear the whole trip, maybe even the whole city, has been ruined for you. But then a handsome stranger swoops in when some drunk idiot gets too handsy, and your night takes an unexpected turn for the better.

The Plus One: You couldn’t believe he was here. He had told you he would be, over and over again, but part of you had convinced yourself it was too good to be true. There was no way a man as perfect as Javy Machado would be so into you after you spent one night together, months ago, that he’d fly out to be your date to a wedding for people he’d never met before. Yet here he was, looking as good as a dream. By the end of the night you knew one thing for certain: a weekend with him would never be enough.

✨Javy Machado x Natasha Trace (Navy):

Repeated Offenses: Javy wasn’t sure what the mission was that called them back to Top Gun, but he knew if he was there, Phoenix would be too. He seeks her out that first night, knowing that it would be the same game between them as it always was. One of them was bound to get burned one of these days, but luckily for him, he’s never been afraid of playing with fire. 

✨Jake Seresin:

Flight Suit Aphrodisiac: There was something about seeing Jake in his flight suit that got to you every single time. It had always been attractive, sure, but nowadays it was like something of an aphrodisiac. It didn’t matter what you were doing or where you were; when you saw him in it, you had to have him.

Twin Fire Signs: When the majority of your squad intentionally leaves you drunk and alone at a bar, you resign yourself to finding your own way home and dealing with your wounded pride in peace. But then your phone rings, the name of the last person you expected to be calling you on a Friday night flashing on your screen. You know you shouldn’t answer, but too much tequila has never led to great decisions. 

Cowboy Resolutions: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

A Verbal Agreement: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more. 

✨Jake Seresin x Natasha Trace (Hannix):

Hell Bent, Heaven Sent: Truthfully, Jake didn’t like anything that she made him feel. Annoyed. Inferior. Submissive. But she also made his heart speed up and his palms sweat and despite everything he felt better when she was with him. Natasha Trace made him question everything about himself.

Alli's TGM Mix & Match Blurb Party Masterlist

*I do not give permission to copy/steal, translate, or publish elsewhere*

[sp-by-april]

Yandere MBTI x Main Four

This is more of a breakdown I'm gonna use for reference when writing. I think this yandere fic is gonna go hard, so I'm gonna dig in.

The categories are cruel/reverent, aware/delusional, manipulative/honest and strict/lenient. Got this MBTI idea from @ddarker-dreams 💘

Cruel vs. Reverent

🤬 Eric Cartman: Cruel This is the most straightforward in this category. Eric will break you down and mold you in his own image. He's a sadist who will eagerly degrade you and then make it even worse if you don't put up enough of a fight.

🙌🏻 Kenny McCormick: Reverent Kenny worships the ground you walk on. He will drink your bathwater and ask for more. He thinks you're a fucking goddess and at his best, he will treat you like one.

🙌🏻 Stan Marsh: Reverent Stan's cruelty is all pointed inward for the most part. Stan is the guy who will write songs about you even though neither you or anyone else will ever hear them. Whereas Kenny's reverence for you is open and bold, Stan's is quiet. So much insecurity and self-doubt.

🃏 Kyle Broflovski: Wildcard, leans Reverent Kyle wants you and by his own account, you're worth having. He really does think the world of you. That temper though? He's prone to outbursts and will punch a hole in the wall if he's pissed enough. Cruelty for cruelty's sake? Never. But if you push him? His words will cut like a knife and leave quite the emotional scar.

Aware vs. Delusional

🃏 Eric Cartman: Wildcard, leans Aware Eric is a lot of things, delusional is occasionally one of them. Cupid me? Check. "You guys really think I'm cool"? Check. That said, I'd argue that Eric's scariest and most dangerous moments are when he is 100% lucid and clear-headed. When he first fixates on you, he knows you don't feel the same way, but that's immaterial to him. He'll get you regardless. Besides, he wouldn't be interested if you didn't present a challenge.

🤖 Kenny McCormick: Aware Kenny's a smart guy and for all his faults, he's still a clear-headed. He's nothing if not fucking aware of his lot in life and the states of his relationships. When you do come around to having feelings for him, he won't always feel worthy of your affection. He'll take it none the less, though.

🤡 Stan Marsh: Delusional Stan isn't delusional in the sense that he believes you love him when you don't, if anything, it's the opposite. He doesn't think he deserves you and he thinks you know it too. He'll reread your texts looking for any sign that you're upset with him.

🤡 Kyle Broflovski: Delusional Kyle can twist every glance from you into proof that you like him. Every coincidence shared between you is proof you were meant to be. He can get analytical to a fault, but he's also the most likely (other than Eric) to make emotion-based decisions. When those emotions trigger an analytical state? Watch out. He can convince himself of anything. You too, probably.

Manipulative vs. Honest

🤞🏻 Eric Cartman: Manipulative Do I really need to say more? Manipulative behavior is already a cornerstone of Cartman's personality, and here it's turned up to an even scarier level. Eric favors situational manipulation over emotional but he can and will use whichever seems more likely to get him what he wants.

😇 Kenny McCormick: Honest Kenny has no interest in manipulation for the most part. It's a waste of time and effort. He's not one to play games because he definitely doesn't appreciate it when people play games with him.

🤞🏻 Stan Marsh: Manipulative Stan favors emotional manipulation and unlike Eric or Kyle, he's not subtle about it in the least. He's an emotional guy, so appealing to your emotions is his go-to move. Definitely the type of guy to drop hints that he might hurt himself when things don't go his way. He is a master guilt-tripper.

🤞🏻 Kyle Broflovski: Manipulative Kyle doesn't just want you, he needs you. You can't be mad at a guy who'd do anything to fulfill his needs, right? So what's a little manipulation in the grand scheme of things? It's for the greater good. The ends always justify the means.

Strict vs. Lenient

🚫 Eric Cartman: Strict Eric has rules and you're gonna follow them come hell or high water. Trust me, you're gonna hate what happens if you don't.

🃏 Kenny McCormick: Wildcard, leans Strict He can be such a cool, laid back guy... Except when it comes to you. Kenny might not follow you around town to make sure you're where you said you'll be, but Mysterion sure will. He will be prone to making decisions on your behalf, but it's okay because it's really what's best for you.

🙈 Stan Marsh: Lenient Stan's only rule is that you pay attention to him. He just wants you so bad that he'd let you get away with anything as long as it meant you were still together.

🚫 Kyle Broflovski: Strict Kyle is a possessive guy, this means he wants to keep you under lock and key. Got any friends who are guys? Not for long, if Kyle gets his way. You belong to him and he'll stake his claim on you in any way that he deems necessary.

Final Scores

Eric Cartman: Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, Strict.

Kenny McCormick: Reverent, Aware, Honest, Strict.

Stan Marsh: Reverent, Delusional. Manipulative, Lenient.

Kyle Broflovski: Reverent, Delusional, Manipulative, Strict.

[ronancexists]

Hi everyone. I haven't been able to stop thinking about Hazbin Hotel since it came out. I just wanted to get this thought out there and share it with people to see if anyone else has been thinking about it or if it's just me.

So, we all know that Alastor has made a deal of his own, but we don't know with who. I know a lot of people theorize that it's Lilith, and I did too until I watched season 1 again, specifically episodes 7 & 8.

In episode 7, Alastor and Charlie finally make a deal. Alastor told Charlie that the exorcists can be killed, and return, she's going to owe him favors of his choosing in which she doesn't have to harm anybody. I was surprised he didn't want Charlie's soul, but considering she is the daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, Alastor probably didn't want to take the chance of incurring Lucifer's wrath in that way instead of the petty way he did in episode 5.

At first, I was thinking maybe he didn't want it because of a deal he made with Lilith where he couldn't harm Charlie and that's why he's invested in the hotel and in helping her, but then the lyric where he says "she's filled with potential that I could guide" suggests maybe he didn't want Charlie's soul because owning her soul wouldn't be helpful to him in accomplishing whatever he's plotting. Maybe he just really needs her and her power, and by owning her soul, he'd diminish her power. Kind of like with Husk.

Then, in episode 8, the finale song, Alastor has a line that goes "The constraints of my deal surely have a back door." That line in particular is what got me into analyzing Alastor and everything he's done so far. Him saying, or I guess singing, that could possibly mean he didn't make a deal with Charlie to hold it over Lilith. It means he still hasn't figured out a loophole to the deal he made, and I know a lot of people who are on board with the whole "Alastor and Lilith made a deal" theory think the reason he wanted to make a deal with Charlie was to use it to get off of Lilith's leash. But that line he sings could mean that he wanted Charlie to make a deal with him for another reason and that he still has a lot of work to do in discovering a way he could get out of his own.

After all, we are all well aware of the fact that all the songs serve a purpose in moving the story along. Not to mention that they're all freaking bangers. Which is why that lyric has started this whole "What if..." thing with Alastor and the leash Husk revealed he's on.

That being said, it's definitely not a coincidence that he and Lilith were both missing for 7 years, and the fact that Zestial said in episode 4 that there are rumors Alastor "fell into holy arms" suggests that Alastor might have indeed figured out a way to get to Heaven, and perhaps he did meet Lilith while he was there and struck a deal with her.

I'm open to either one of these theories, but I do think it would be kind of neat if I was right and that it turned out Alastor didn't make a deal with Lilith at all, instead it was with somebody else. Maybe someone we've already met, or maybe somebody we haven't.

But regardless of what happens, I love this show and I can't wait for season 2!

Please let me know what you guys think. This thought has been niggling my brain for a while and I just needed to get it out somewhere.

P.S.- A list of things I want to see in season 2 and beyond:

- CHARLIE AND VAGGIE CHARLIE AND VAGGIE CHARLIE AND VAGGIE CHARLIE AND VAGGIE CHARLIE AND VAGGIE CHARLIE AND VAGGIE

- As in kisses, cuddles, adorableness, (maybe even a sex scene considering they did an entire episode with Angel & his pornos), Vaggie carrying Charlie as they fly around Hell

- Not to mention an ENTIRE SONG sung by the two of them. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely ADORE THE SHIT out of the reprise of ''More Than Anything," but these two need a FULL fucking song together

- More of Carmilla and Vaggie bonding and being badasses together

- Angel and Husk becoming a thing

- Learn more about what Lilith and Alastor have been up to while they've both been gone for 7 years

- What Heaven is going to do now that Adam is dead and the Extermination failed

- Also is Heaven or Emily or Sera or ANYONE even gonna ADDRESS the fact that Vaggie was revealed to be a fallen exterminator angel in episode 6?!?! Like I'm sorry but Adam dropped that fucking bomb and the only reaction they showed was Charlie's and nobody even like asked what had happened or why Vaggie was cast out?!?! I'd really like to see something, ANYTHING, that acknowledges this very big reveal to Heaven actually fucking happened lmao.

- Lilith's reunion & explanation to Charlie and Lucifer

- More of our Short King being his nerdy, powerful self

- Lute & Vaggie being toxic exes and/or getting a duet together (a girl can dream lmaoooo)

- Sir Pentious and his adventures in Heaven

- Emily and what she comes up with to help Charlie because she is the true Angel up in Heaven

- Sera getting a fucking kick to the face (or multiple) for letting the Exterminations happen and for all the other hypocritical shit that's been going on

- Everyone's reactions when they find out Sir Pentious has been redeemed

- Niffty being Niffty

- Alastor's plans and what he wants Charlie to do for him because of the deal they made

- Angel & Husk getting out of their respective deals with Valentino and Alastor

- Valentino dying a slow, agonizing, shitty death for what he's done to Angel

- What Keekee being the key to the hotel really means

- More fucking bangers to add to my playlist :)

That's all I can think of for now. If I think of anything else I'll add it on :)

[wileys-russo]

Blurb idea: surprising lessi with multiple cheek kisses at a time (I just can’t resist that face)

co-dependancy II a.russo

"i'm back!" alessia sung out as she stepped inside and kicked the door closed behind her, almost losing her footing and falling in the process but just catching herself as she let out a shaky exhale of relief.

making a beeline for the kitchen and dumping the bag of shopping on the counter, the blonde frowned as she called out for you again but you still didn't reply.

jogging upstairs alessia smiled as she heard the shower running in your shared en-suite, followed shortly by you belting out a very off tune rendition of young hearts run free.

singing aloud was something you did very commonly, very passionately and very badly, a combination which really worked to balance things out in your favor.

the two of you had first met in a karaoke bar, alessia on a night out with some of her younger national team mates she'd grown up with, and you having stumbled in with your friends on either arm around an hour later (mostly to help keep you stood straight with a belly full of shots)

alessia had been singing her heart out in a private room, but after a particularly painful performance of islands in the stream by tooney and roebuck she excused herself to get another drink, georgia stepping out with her but disappearing to use the toilet.

your head spinning from screaming along to taylor swifts latest offering coupled with the copious amounts of alcohol pumping through you, meant you stepped away from your friends to grab a water, much to their groaning and displeasure at the decision which you simply waved off with an unbothered laugh.

after alessia had ordered she stood back to let you do the same, not paying much attention as she glanced over your shoulder to watch out for georgia.

"so girls, whats our go to songs tonight then?" the barkeep asked you both with a charming grin, handing you a bottle of water and placing alessias drinks on the counter as she politely reached around you to grab them.

"young hearts run free" you'd both answered with a smile, heads whipping toward one another at the shared answer. in that moment she'd blamed it on dehydration, but alessia's mouth had gone dry at the sight of you, piercing green eyes bore into hers as you let out a surprised laugh at the odd coincidence.

your laugh was a melodic sound which would soon become one of alessia's favorite things in the whole entire world, and from then on the story of your love would be one you'd hope to fondly recount to your grandkids one day.

alessia grabbed out her phone and began to record the audio of your shower performance, putting it on her close friends story with a chuckle and making her way back downstairs to put away the shopping.

once that was done she sank deep into the sofa with a tired sigh, her body aching from a long week of training. flicking on the tv and pushing a pillow under her head she clicked from channel to channel with a bored stare.

though before she could settle on anything to watch she heard your footsteps thud gently downstairs, and within a few seconds you'd practically dived on top of her, tucking your head in her neck.

"hi." alessia grinned, arms wrapping tightly around you. "hi, i missed you." you mumbled into the soft tanned skin, feeling the blondes body vibrate softly with laughter underneath you. "i was gone for like thirty minutes!"

"and it was the longest thirty minutes of my life!" you pushed yourself up and stared seriously down at her. "you could have just come with me." alessia chuckled as you tangled your hands in her hair, the girls eyes fluttering closed as your nails scratched softly at her scalp.

"you know i'm beginning to think maybe this is why all our friends take the mick out of us for our codependency issues." you bit down on your bottom lip with a sheepish smile. "i personally don't know what they mean, i only want to be around you every second, every minute, every day of every month." alessia shrugged it off sarcastically as you mockingly nodded along.

a beat of comfortable silence passed between you, both staring adoringly at the other.

alessia let out squeal followed by a loud chime of laughter as you began to attack her face with kisses. "i love you." you paused to grin before peppering each inch of her face with your lips, moving from her forehead to her nose to each of her cheeks before the older blonde's hand came to rest on the back of your head, gently guiding them to meet with her own.