#hate this fcking game

[mirapteo]

top 5 apex characters and any thoughts or opinions on them?

hey anon yeah i love you also i am about to be so annoying i might need to hide this under a "read more" (future me here. yeah i did)

1. Crypto (obviously)

- everything about him (besides current lore 😒) is perfect to me i love backstories that include a wanted criminal aspect and the fact he is wanted but innocent just adds so much more flavor & i think the whole "to break the game i must do it from the inside" idea is badass. i also love all the familial themes surrounding his backstory i love that for the most part he is a cold and calculated person but despite being jaded due to all the misfortune that happened to him in life he still cares about his family and the few people he allowed to get closer to him, that he still has the capability to do that in the first place even when it has hurt him before.

- i love the whole crypto is just a protective mask to hide tae joon park and i like to treat them as 2 separate people. my gripe is that i wish we learned more about tae joon park, but i also sorta like that it leaves room for fans to interpret who tae joon park is on their own. from the very small bits & pieces it does seem like tae joon park is an overall softer more caring & trusting person compared to the closed off, on edge person that is crypto and it makes me all emo that all the unlucky shit that happened to him in life caused him to resort to being coldhearted and distrustful even when (i personally think) he doesnt want to

- also his design fucking rips idc. maybe im just a big jacket enjoyer but its so fun, it makes sense for his personality and the cybernetics ARE SOOOOO FREAKING GNARLY they r both sexy and lore important i love it

- for issues the most obvious one is FORCING A CHEMISTRYLESS ROMANCE BETWEEN HIM AND YOU KNOW WHO. i FUCKING HATE that they have written such an intriguing backstory for him & DONT DO ANYTHING WITH IT WITHOUT IT HAVING TO INCLUDE WATTSON. i hate how they cannot be their own separate characters and have to always have their stories intertwined in some way its like the writers are allergic to making them hang out with literally anyone else. kill code as boring as it was came so fucking close to that but the recent radio play had to ruin it because of course. of fucking course.

- i also hate the completely unnecessary age retcon. i hate that it frames him as a supergenius computer whiz at a young age. he was so much more likeable & easier to sympathize with as a completely normal office worker that just wanted to provide for him & his sister, only for it to bite him in the ass when he did literally nothing to deserve it. i hate having yet another character in their early 20s in this already oversaturated age range in media as a whole.

- i hate that with every lore update hes involved in it just further mutilates his character. i hate that i cant be excited when my FAVORITE CHARACTER gets lore attention because it just provides more opportunity for the writers to stomp on him. they dont care about him as his own character. they care about him in regards to the relationships he has with other people. thats not how u write a compelling, likeable, or realistic bond between people. it makes me so mad i wanna SCREAM

- anyway crypto tae joon park is my pookie bear he is autistic and he likes dragons and cats and kpop and elliott and being a good friend to the point of sacrificing himself i like him normally also he is my oc now

2. Mirage (obviously)

- mirage is just an objectively likeable character truly like there is a reason he is essentially the face of apex. he was my first favorite & for good reason. u get lured in with his endearing goofiness & then get smacked in the face with one of the most tragic and completely undeserved backstories. maybe im just a slut for characters that "wear masks" & have completely polarizing versions of themselves as a self preservation tactic because i love Mirage being the self absorbed, smooth, attention-seeking bastard on screen and i love love LOVE Elliott Witt with his crippling fear of loneliness and inferiority complex, slowly losing the things that mattered most in his life and feeling like it was somehow his fault & he deserves it

- but i dislike the flanderization hes facing in current lore. i dont remember the last time he was anything other than the goofy guy with a stutter that cant take things seriously. that old comic of him losing his friends because of his own douchebaggery & working to fix his wrongs is my prized possession. he is hurt & lonely & it causes him to lash out on people that dont deserve it and i wish they explored that more. i desperately need more asshole mirage in my life. nowadays he just feels like the one-note silly character whos only purpose is to fill in the comic relief role.

- also he has some of the worst fans ive ever seen im sorry they were like the main reason he stopped being my favorite. they baby him like he has never done nothing wrong in his entire life & in turn shit on characters like wraith or vantage bc they were "mean to him." as if he isnt capable of being an asshole, as if there isnt an entire comic dedicated to him being an asshole. i also hate that fans either lean in 100% into his mirage personality or 100% into his elliott witt personality. he is either a loudmouthed egotistical slut or an innocent wittle mamas boy that needs to be protected at all times never anything outside or in between and it drives me insane.

- shes still my sweetie pie. my biggest kin. i love writing him sooo much. i want to chew him. i want to set him on fire. i want to tuck him in and give him a forehead kiss before he goes to bed.

coughs anyway now with all that out of the way

3. Conduit

- im filipino of course im gonna be biased but hellooooo she is also just so likeable it is insane!! a sweet, goofy fangirl we can relate to that is literally killing herself just to provide for her family ouch it hurts GIVE ME MORE. all her little easter eggs and her fun voicelines like the devs really really loved & cherished her & it shows & she deserves it! my main issue is that it is literally her season rn yet all they care about is revenant Revenant REVENANT give me more conduit! what is her story with her family? hows her sister in particular holding up? how does she cope with her illness? will she ever open up about it to any of the legends? are they ever going to try to help her? is crypto gonna help find her a cure like he did caustic & then they kiss

4. Lifeline

- love her. love her personality. a medic that also isnt afraid to get her hands dirty & chew ppl out? love that for her. i also like where the current lore has been taking her (me? liking current lore? what a shocker), the fact that she was willing to destroy one of her strongest & longest bonds to defeat a greater evil? BANGER. she hurt people & she made sacrifices to get to this point but what does she get from it? a best friend that doesnt want to speak to her & a whole fucking army of murderous robots that want her dead. i wonder if shell have a "is this really what i wanted? did i just fuck everything up?" internal crisis cuz atp i feel like she has to. id love to see it

- also i am no.1 lifeline defender idgaf the demonization shes facing in the fandom for hurting their pookie wookie bear octane is so blatant and laughable u ppl really hate black women. its ok for ur favorite male character to make questionable morally gray decisions but got forbid ajay does it. gtfo of here!

5. Rampart

- just another objectively likeable character plsss she is sooo funny & sassy and there is not a single rampart interaction/relationship she has with another legend that i hate. she also has the biggest wasted potential ever. they were cooking something so good with big sister and ramparts relation to her & NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH JT. its been 13 seasons and nothing has progressed in her lore and its so so sad. she needs a focus season soon. u dont just drop a fun character with an intriguing backstory and just ditch it.

look im not going to read this back to fix things around if it seems disjointed with a lack of direction IDCCCC i am cringe and free!

[eldrtchmn]

Veilguard (not spoilers) I'm just angry at stupid people

[cowboy-robooty]

manlybadasshero is my savior. because he can make anything palatable like omfg i hate da coffin of andynleeyley SOOOO MUCH. I HATE THE UNFUNNY ASS CRINGEY WRITING STYLE I CANNOT STAND IT but i also an forced to wring my head and watch all of manlys playthroughs of it because i ship the mom and dad so hard. Like fedex. i dont like any fucking character or component of this game at all because its all RUINED by such a cringey ass execution and the only good part is the parents were supposed to despise because ohhhhh my god *visibly hard*. MY OTP ❤️😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 thank u manly for giving me the strength to endure this game so i can see my otp moments

[akkivee]

i was watching some carrot cake baking youtube short and had the immense displeasure of having the hitoya living in my head suddenly chime ‘there are two things that i can’t stand; one: vegetables in a dessert—‘

and i’m now terrified that this might actually be a thing hitoya hates LMAO

[subspace--w0kemine]

At this point it’s literally just there for good publicity points, don’t fucking convince me otherwise.

[keninamu]

Saw some Rayark inspired fanarts and just got reminded again how terribly disappointing Demo 2 was holyshit

They ruined demo by applying so much mobile game stink on it

Also Rayark being AI-adopters and dropping artists lol

Rayark deserves their current state being forgotten

[norrisainz33]

field hockey || GR63

☆ summary: george russell’s girlfriend, y/n, is an olympic (field) hockey player and he’s obsessed with her

☆ pairing: george russell x olympic!reader

☆ fc & warning: lily owsley and slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! apologies for the delay - thank you sm for taking the time to request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

georgerussell63 has added to his private story

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alex_albon: when is y/n/n’s next match?

georgerussell63: 2 days! same day as race day🥹

alex_albon: 💔 man i wanted to watch

georgerussell63: you still can! briefly! i will have it on in my garage

ynuser: georgie 😫 i miss you more!!!! also why don’t YOU hurry up and finish racing so you can come to paris????

georgerussell63: i’m working on it baby girl

ynuser: well work harder 😉

georgerussell63: yes ma’am 😍

lilymhe: you can’t rush greatness

georgerussell63: i know you’re right but im going to try anyway

lewishamilton: don’t stress her out mate 😂😂

georgerussell63: oops

yourbff: that’s my girl actually ☝🏻

georgerussell63: not this again 🫠

georgerussell63 has made a post

liked by yourbff, mercedesamgf1, teamgb, lewishamilton, ynuser, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 874,234 others

georgerussell63: everyone stop what you’re doing - y/n is playing in the olympics today

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user1: george’s account is becoming a fan account for y/n

user2: george aren’t you racing today ??

mercedesamgf1: let’s go y/n! (george please pay attention in the drivers meeting)

georgerussell63: i am paying attention

alex_albon: y/n y/n y/n!!! let’s go!!!

lilymhe: lets gooooooo that’s my best friend!!

ynuser: i 🫶🏻 you both

user3: i thought this was y/n’s post but it’s just george reminding us how much he loves his girl

landonorris: 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

ynuser: 🤍🇬🇧🤍🇬🇧🤍

user4: rooting for you both today!!!

user5: y/ngeorge for the win!!

mercedesamgf1: it’s race day here in SPA! Join George as he talks race day updates and aspirations and y/n’s olympic campaign.

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user4: george not talking abt y/n challenge failed

user5: i love how much he loves her

georgerussell63: my girl’s about to win!! you all should tune in!!

user16: shouldn’t you be in the car rn george

user63: he’s live tweeting from the garage apparently

mercedesamgf1: george give me your phone now - toto

user7: loving that all this mercedes and george promo is bringing the love the field hockey world deserves

yourbff: yesss georgie educate the masses on the olympic schedule!!!!

georgerussell63: watch 🗣️ gb field hockey 🗣️ now 🗣️

user9: get you a man like george who cares more about talking about your success than his own

user10: i want them to be my mom and dad

ynuser has posted to their story

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user6: girl did you even step off the field yet ?

georgerussell63: my woman my woman my woman. i fcking love you

ynuser: i love you more my race winner

georgerussell63: simply not possible my olympic field hockey game winner

ynuser: i can’t wait to kiss your cute face

georgerussell63: sprinting away from media duties and to the jet to get to paris rn

ynuser: literally counting down the minutes

user56: a winning day for y/n/n and georgie

yourbff: a couple who wins together stays together

ynuser: 😭😭 winning on the same day hit like nothing else

yourbff: so proud of you both bb 🤍

mercedesamgf1: absolutely amazing result for you both. so so so happy for you y/n ❤️

ynuser: thank you admin ily

georgerussell63 posts to his private story

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landonorris: gross

georgerussell63: if you think this is gross you should’ve seen what we did after

landonorris: i hate you

alex_albon: now you can finally stop crying about missing her!

georgerussell63: yes! until the next time we are apart that is

llyzneimer: my baby girl, give her back to me

georgerussell63: never! she is mine!

lilyzneimer: didn’t anyone ever teach you to share?

georgerussell63: nope!

ynuser: hot

georgerussell63: oh yea 😏

lewishamilton: send her my best

georgerussell63: she sends it right back and she says she wants to see roscoe asap

lewishamilton: roscoe would love a play date 🤍

yourbff: stop distracting her from playing hockey

georgerussell63: i am NOT distracting her ☝🏻

ynuser has made a post

liked mercedesamgf1, georgerussell63, yourbff, alex_albon, teamgb, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 152,324 others

ynuser: not the way i would have hoped our time at the olympics would have ended. we gave it everything we had and for that i am so incredibly proud. there’s always next time!! thank you to everyone for the outpouring of support and love - i hope you’ve been inspired to keep watching field hockey!! thank you to my friends, my coaches, my teammates, my family and most of all george for enabling this dream to come true. see you next time paris 🤍🇬🇧

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user23: 4th is still impressive you gorgeous hockey queen

user44: thanks for introducing us to the incredible game of field hockey y/n

user54: no like fr i had no idea how fun the sport was!!! everyone say thank you y/n!

user64: thank you y/n

user74: thanks y/n/n

ynuser: you are so welcome 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: you’re an olympian y/n/n and no one can take that away from you, medal or not. you have inspired me and so many others. i love you y/n ❤️

ynuser: i love you mr russell 🥹

user45: we are proud of you mother

landonorris: great effort y/n! proud that you’re out there representing team 🇬🇧

ynuser: thank you lan

user33: still my favorite olympian

roscoelovescoco: prouds of yous my friends 😘

ynuser: i needed this thank you 😭

user35: can’t wait for the next olympics for you to eat it up and win gold

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user46: hoping you both enjoy your break!!

user87: are you guys just gonna get married yet or what

yourbff: enjoy italy!! love you both 🤍

ynuser: 🤍🤍pasta🤍🤍

mercedesamgf1: much needed rest and recovery time 🫶🏻

teamgb: until next time 🏑🇬🇧

georgerussell63: blue is your color

ynuser: so is gold 😏

georgerussell63: oh i know 💍

user78: that dress is to die for tf

roscoelovescoco: stops by and sees me pls

ynuser: will do ❤️

lilyzneimer: enjoy pretty girl

ynuser: can’t wait to see you and osc 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated!! this concludes my olympic reader series. appreciate all of you reading 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[endless-ineffabilities]

backhand stroke (18+)

tennis coach!Aemond x tennis player!reader

Rivals on and off the court, things come to a head between the two when Aemond crosses the line and sabotages the reader's relationship.

themes : challengers inspired, Art Donaldson is featured <3, a lot of cussing, smut!!! (minors dn fckin i), the reader and Aemond hate each other (but if they hate each other why are they fcking), reader may or may not be a cheating bastard, Aemond has a glass eye + he calls the reader ace

a/n : initially I was about to write a fic where Aemond and the reader are actual rivals themselves, but quickly remembered how tennis works 💀 so in this one, Aemond is a coach and reader is a player 🎾

word count : 8k ▪︎ masterlist

The Westeros Open is the biggest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the country. 

Anyone who wants to be someone in the sport aims to qualify for it. 

For you, it is everything. You have devoted your entire life to tennis. It started as something that stemmed from your parents' neglect. Rich folks who signed their young daughter up for extensive tennis lessons just so they can be free of her and galivant off to wherever. 

You had sat there, staring at your shiny, brand-new white tennis shoes. Holding your unused top-of-the-line racket. Hair kept away from your face with a headband that still smelled like the store. 

Mostly left alone by your family, you gathered your strength, and dragged your weak eight-year-old legs across the tennis court day in and day out. 

Through the years, you found yourself. You found home, and you gave everything you had to make sure you would never lose it.

As luck would have it, you found romance along the way in Art Donaldson, who became your coach after your previous one decided to quit. He used to be a player, until he fell out of love with the game, and chose to coach up and coming players instead. 

You had been wary of getting involved with him, but eventually you couldn’t resist. He turned out to be the perfect boyfriend - caring, sweet, attentive to your every need. He became your partner in both tennis and in life. Truly, you couldn’t want for anything else.

You shouldn’t. 

So why does it feel like there is something missing?

And why is that void one that only Aemond Targaryen can fill?

The gigantic poster propped up in the inner courtyard of the country club lets everyone know that your next qualifying match in the Westeros Open is against none other than Helaena Targaryen. 

Your image looms up to around twenty feet, with Helaena’s lithe figure on the other side. The perfectionist in you can’t help but scrutinise the details in your expression and your form. Was that really what you looked like mid-serve? You laugh dryly, feeling silly at your misdirected concern.

You like Helaena, and she’s always been cordial to you outside of your matches. The issue lies with her more brash and calculating brother and coach. 

Something - or rather someone - shuffles behind you. Close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on attention. 

"I wish I could say that you look good up there, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Think of the devil and he shall appear. You don't have to turn around to know who it is. 

Aemond fucking Targaryen. Once at his prime, known for his freely expressing his passion and rage on the court, earning him the title 'the bad boy of tennis'. It was this drive, this relentlessness, that propelled his game. Unfortunately, it also served to be his downfall. After a few years as the sport's #1 male player, his career came to an end after an off-court altercation with an opponent that took his eye.

Now he is the coach of one of your top rivals and upcoming match opponent, his sister Helaena. 

Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that he has made it his mission to get under your skin, with all his unwarranted flirty remarks, constant staring, and how he tirelessly interacts with everything you post on social media. 

It used to be tame, by his standards anyway, with things like, ‘You need to work on that backhand’ or ‘I’m guessing Donaldson doesn’t train you well enough.’

But then the messages took a different turn. You once posted a picture of you in a fancy, revealing gown when you attended the annual gala, and he responded with, ‘It’s easy to see that all your training has paid off, ace.’

You chocked it all up to playful aggression. He’s just trying to get you to lower your guard, and distract you. You knew better than to look too much into the apparent interest he gives you. 

He is notorious for being a playboy, after all. Dirty blonde hair perfectly tousled, designer tracksuits he wears with such snobbishness, a presence that can command an entire room. You’ve grown to heavily dislike the seemingly permanent smug sneer on his lips, and how he sometimes treats others like they’re nothing but gum stuck on the soles of his fancy tennis shoes.

A handsome rogue who possesses a lot of talent and who is aware of his status as a hot commodity can be dangerous indeed. If he can say that Helaena Targaryen’s best opponent is nothing but another notch on his bedpost, then he will never let that live down. 

More importantly, you are already spoken for. Aemond knows this - not that he cares - but whatever he thinks about your relationship doesn’t matter. 

“Aemond.” You don’t turn to face him, continuing to scrutinise the gigantic poster. “Is that the best you got?”

He shrugs, positioning himself right in your line of sight, clearly demanding more attention. “You don’t just look good. You look good enough to fucking eat, ace. Too bad about the shitty attitude.”

Hot then cold, nice then nasty. Aemond will never change. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought I told you not to call me that. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else training your sister? She’s gonna need it.”

He steps closer, invading your space. You look him directly in the eye like you’re squaring up with an opponent. This has always been your dynamic. Neither one backing down, neither one ever really dealing a blow. 

Just constant dizzying electricity. 

Sooner or later, it will all come to a head. Whether it will be your fault or his, the jury is still out on that. 

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he patronises, his deep blue almost violet eye sparkling. On the opposite was his glass eye, only adding to his intimidating nature. He hadn’t opted for one that resembled his real eye, but rather a hazy white apparatus, making him appear ghoulish, almost ghostlike. Nestled in his left eye socket, framed by a faded maroon gash, it made him look every bit like the charismatic rogue of tennis that he is known to be. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere receiving instruction from Donaldson? Not that you’ll get much out of it.”

“Art and I are on top of our training, not that it’s any of your damn business. You should concern yourself with your sister’s game.” 

“If only that were actually true, ace, but unfortunately I believe that your sweet Art wastes too much of his fucking time being on top of you.”

“Fuck off, Targaryen,” you respond, trying to push the allure of his scent out of your mind. Pungent cologne and cigarette smoke, a blend that you’ve come to associate only with him. “Stay out of my business, and quit messaging me.”

“You like how we talk.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Does Donaldson know?” Fully aware that Art has never had a liking for him, he knows that will hit a nerve. 

Your face falls, like you’ve been caught in the act. Even though you've done nothing wrong. Occasionally caving in and responding to Aemond’s messages surely isn’t crossing the line. What started out as a couple of offhand fuck offs from your end turned into actually sharing private jokes about the other matches and training and - heavens forbid - small talk about the goddamn weather. 

You’ve come to know that his favourite colour is green. Not the neon of a tennis ball, but a bluish-tinted pine. 

Not that it matters. 

Encounters such as this one also don’t mean anything. Never mind however much you find him attractive. Who wouldn’t? You have eyes, and you’re only human. Nothing more to it. 

Never mind how, some nights, in what can only be construed as momentary states of delirium, you have imagined him in Art’s place. 

Never mind just how much he gets under your skin, like no one else can, and how you can’t admit to yourself that you might actually like it.

Oh, you might actually be making yourself sick at all these thoughts. 

“There’s nothing for him to know.” You step to the side, indicating that you want to walk away. But he has you cornered and you both know it. 

He smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, ace. But you can’t deny - ” He steps close again. He suddenly tilts your face toward him with one hand, but you shake your head and his fingers lose their hold. “ - this. Us.”

Damn him. And damn the shiver that just ran up your spine. 

You stand still, entranced by the look he’s giving you. Trick or not, Aemond sure does have a way of looking at you as if he sees you for who you really are. Not the tennis prodigy. Not the public personality. You remain a shell of that broken kid that poured everything she had into this sport, much like he had, only to come out the other end still not whole, still searching for something inexplicably out of reach. And he sees just that - just you.

You feel like Art holds you up on a pedestal, not seeing the flaws that make you who you are. But you’ve always been happy to play the perfect girlfriend. 

Until Aemond. 

But he’s too much. Too forward, too brash, too intoxicating. You can never know what he’s going to do next. You can’t like him. You have to be certain that you don’t.

But then again… love and hate have always been two sides of the same coin.

He whispers, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you, “Match point, ace.”

Match point. You could have him. He could have you. He makes it evident that the next move is all yours. “Don’t go out of bounds, Targaryen,” you warn him lowly. 

“What if I want to?”

You have him. He has you.

And you… have Art. 

Clearing your throat, and your head, you finally step back. His head snaps up to follow you, disappointment evident on his face. 

“See you around, Targaryen.” You spin on your heel, walking away, immediately feeling lighter. Emptier, feeling like your body begs to drift closer to him, two equal magnets. 

“Ace,” he calls to you, walking after you when you don’t turn around. “Wait a second,” he reappears right in front of you, effectively halting your stride.

You grumble hastily, “God, you really have a space issue, don’t you, Aemond?”

“Meet me in the courtyard gardens,” he says, a new intensity lacing his voice, “tonight. After dinner. Or whenever you can. Just - ”

“No.”

“Come on, ace.” His tone is insistent, with no trace of his usual bravado and cockiness. “I think… I need to tell you something.”

Part of you wants to cave in, and just agree to whatever it is that he’s proposing, but that nagging voice in the back of your mind is adamant that it would not be right. What would Art think? But what if Aemond truly just wants to tell you something?

“So tell me now.”

His jaw clenches hard, and you can’t help but admire the taut edges of his face. “No, I want to do this, just you and me. When we’ll be alone - ”

“Aemond - ” you start to shake your head, trying hard to come up with a refusal that he will actually register. 

“Donaldson doesn’t need to know,” he almost pleads. “This is between you and me, ace. You just have to hear me out.”

You take a deep breath, unable to understand just what it is he means. “If it’s something I have to hide from my boyfriend, then it’s not gonna happen. You have to see just how messed up that is, Targaryen.”

Either he can’t hear you, or he just does not want to accept your response. “I’ll wait for you. Right around midnight then, ace? Should give you plenty of time to sneak out.”

Before you can say no, again, he hastily plants a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, in surprise and perhaps pleasure at the softness of his lips, and when you open them once more, he is no longer flooding your space. 

You spy him entering a set of glass doors, leaving you there stunned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Aemond kicks at another pebble, the sound momentarily breaking the silence in the gardens.

He’d checked his watch just seconds before, the face of it spitting on what remains of his eagerness. 

Twelve fucking fifteen. 

Either you just got held up by your whiney rat-faced boyfriend, or you’re a no-show.

Aemond doesn’t know which one is worse. He did not know what he was expecting in the first place. Did he actually think that you would do as he says? You never were good at following orders, much less those from someone whom you likely view as something of a nuisance.

Is that really what you see him as? Isn’t there something more at play here?

Something that keeps Aemond up at night, when he can no longer deny that it is not because he dislikes you that you plague his thoughts, but because he admires you. He does admire you, he sees no shame in admitting that. 

As a tennis player. As a competitor. Anyone who feigns ignorance at your insane potential would just be lying to themselves. 

As a woman? A… partner? No. It has to be no, doesn’t it? You hate him, you make it clear now and again. You disagree with him, challenge his views, point out his flaws. Surely, he can’t be attracted to you in a way that commands his heart. You are beautiful, he doesn’t deny this, but so were the dozens of other girls he had run through. 

Each time he watches you perform your signature backhand stroke, with that sensual growl escaping your lips and the lewd grace with which your body bends, Aemond feels his sanity slipping away.

You drive him crazy, but he can't be crazy about you. 

The only reason he asked you to meet him, is because he wants to propose that he replace Art as your coach. Helaena has expressed that she wants to retire, and focus on some other creative pursuits. Something insignificant to Aemond, that he can’t remember what it was exactly. A pottery business? A fucking flower shop? He doesn’t care to know. 

It’s perfect, he thinks, because your game is superior anyway. It’s what first got his attention, and now he can take part in your process. He can direct you, shape you. He can do so much better than Art Donaldson, and he’s sure you know this too. 

Maybe then you might actually open up to him the way you opened up to Art. With your absence tonight, it dawns on him that he might actually have to resort to other measures. Did he seriously think he would be able to simply reason with you about this? 

He sits for another half-hour on a bench nestled among the rose bushes. Surrounded by flowers of deep scarlet, a maroon he distinctly remembers as being your favourite colour. He fools himself into believing that he’s using the time to craft a plan for what’s to come, and not that he’s wasting it on the hope that you might emerge from the tall hedges, out of breath and eyes glinting eager to find him. 

Well, you played your hand. Now he knows what he has to do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You wake up groggy the following morning, having tossed and turned the entire night, thinking about Aemond.

Had he been out there, waiting for you? Your mind came up with the different possibilities of what he has to say. Or if he had nothing to say at all, and it was all just another ruse. 

You told yourself that you didn’t want to meet up with him, but you had an alibi prepared. One of your old tennis club mates agreed to cover for you and say that you were having drinks together, just in case Art ever checks up. 

But as you were about to deliver the excuse, Art had said something about you and him not getting to spend as much quality time anymore. The past few weeks have been occupied with nothing but tennis, and though it’s a shared activity that you both value, he wanted to stay in for the night with you. He ordered room service, downloaded two films that were on your watchlist, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually gave up on meeting Aemond. 

It can wait, whatever it is. 

Besides, isn’t this the right thing to do? Did you seriously consider having a midnight rendezvous with the guy who you claim to dislike the most? Someone who encourages you to keep secrets from your boyfriend? What good could possibly come out of that?

With a heaving sigh, you push all thoughts of last night from your mind. There are bigger things at hand. The biggest tennis tournament of the year, for one. 

You make your way to the dining hall of your hotel. Art had woken up before you, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek and explaining how he had to discuss some matters with your physical team. He wore the skin of a tennis coach as perfectly as that of a boyfriend. 

And here you are, regretting that you were unable to meet up with another man the previous night.

The art deco layout of the lobby extends into the spacious dining hall, the interior of the hotel filled with geometric patterns and rich jewel tones. You once bid Aemond guess what your favourite interior design was, and he got it in two tries, complete with a spiel of how it reflects your personality. Art, on the other hand, had been adamant that your favourite was minimalist. That was the first time you realised that his perspective of you was different from Aemond’s. 

You hadn’t yet reconciled with who is more accurate, lest it shine a light on something deeper. 

The hostess is cheerful and full of pep as she leads you to your table. You know it’s coming - she’ll ask you for a picture in just a moment, and you’re proven right when she reaches in her pocket and her phone materialises inch by inch. She seems shy to ask, ready to turn on her heel with a stiff smile if you refuse, so you do your best to be encouraging.

When the photo is taken and she finally lowers her phone, you spy someone out in the distance and you make it out to be none other than your boyfriend. Leaning by the outdoor terrace, appearing to be speaking to another person you can’t yet make out, their face obscured by the decorative shrubbery scattered across the area. 

You walk to the side to get a better view of who it is. That tall figure, clad in a black tracksuit… a familiar head of blonde hair… and the unmistakable cut of his jawline. Realisation sets in. Art is speaking to Aemond. 

Your stomach sinks, the thought of breakfast no longer enticing. Frozen in the middle of the dining hall, you begin to attract the attention of others. 

Aemond turns his head, perfectly timed for his gaze to meet yours. Like something out of a grim movie, your anxiety spikes as his smug smirk materialises in slow motion. 

If there ever were a match at hand between you two, that smirk makes it clear that he has won it. 

Art follows his gaze, also meeting yours, but without any trace of satisfaction. He looks at you accusingly. You shake your head at him, but you already know. 

This is not going to end well. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Is it true?”

You had wordlessly followed Art back to your hotel suite, the air around you thick with dread and anticipation.

“What did Aemond say?” You stand in front of him as he calmly sits by the window, as if you’re on the trial stand. You just might be.

“Guess,” Art spits mockingly. “Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know him quite well.” You bristle at his tone. He’s never spoken to you like this before. 

“Whatever he told you, it’s not what it looks like, okay? You know Aemond. He likes to mess around with people, especially us.”

Art shakes his head in disbelief, “He even showed me some of your messages. Some of them you must have sent - what, at 3 or 4 in the fucking morning? When you’re lying next to me in bed? Not getting a lot of sleep apparently. It must be why you’re not on top of your game.”

He’s not playing fair, and you deserve this. 

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say through gritted teeth, making the statement sound as firm as possible, because it’s not just Art you’re attempting to convince. You want to believe it too. 

“He’s said some things about me.”

“And I defended you.”

“Not well enough,” he shakes his head. “It sounded almost normal for you. Spewing bullshit to each other.”

“It’s just… it’s all just banter.” God, you sound so terrible. “Riling each other up to get into the mindset before matches.”

“All that… all that, I can kind of understand. It’s the other things. The intimate things that get on my nerves.”

“What - ” You can’t form the proper response to that. 

“I missed talking to you, he once said. To which you replied that you do too.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You said that he inspired you.”

“That’s… that… he’s a great talent,” you stammer, as the statements he throws worsen. “He always has been. Even you can’t deny that.”

The argument goes on for an uncomfortable length of time, with Art reminding you of things that you and Aemond had apparently messaged each other, and you trying to play them off as insignificant. 

Gradually, you convince Art that Aemond is just a thorn in your side. That Aemond was just overplaying the messages to get under his skin. That letting this break your relationship would be giving Aemond what he wants. 

But everything he said - the messages he brought back to the surface, the encounters that were brought up - made you realise the depth of your involvement with Aemond. 

You are fooling yourself, just as much as you are fooling Art.

He finally stands, heading towards the door. “I’ve spoken to our physical team. Meet us at the gym in 15.”

“Art.”

He halts, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You’re worried about what you’ll see in his face if he does.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

He turns to the side, and you catch a glimpse of the man you love, his once blithe demeanour reduced to a brief, forced smile. He nods once, and you sag in relief. When he is finally out the door, you collapse onto the bed and press your knuckles to your eyes. 

You feel it all at once. 

Anger. Frustration. That fear of inevitability coming to fruition. This was bound to happen and a part of you knew it was coming.

Aemond screwed you over, and it’s high time you put an end to everything.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The gardens. Midnight. 

The message had been sent. The last one you will ever send to Aemond Targaryen if things go as planned. 

You have it rehearsed and perfected in your mind - how you will give him a piece of your mind, how you will tell him off and tell him to fuck off for good. 

As long as you think of Art…  As long as you don’t lose yourself, then…

“You’re lucky I’m not standing you up, Ace. Not like what you did to me.” The bastard has appeared directly behind you, as per his custom, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck. 

You immediately turn to face him, and he stands calmly in his signature black tracksuit, his lips curled in their usual manner. “I never agreed to meet you that night.”

His smile is derisive, the sight of it sharp and cruel under the moonlight. “I thought we had sort of a code of honour, you and I. That we’d never lie to each other. Never let the other person down.”

“Honour?” you say mockingly. “I call bullshit. Trying to ruin my relationship… is that part of it?”

He looks away, shaking his head at your accusation. “I only did what you don’t have the fucking guts to do. Your relationship with Donaldson was ruined the moment we…” He trails off, brows furrowing. His gaze meets yours, revealing the truth that sits underneath his mask of arrogance. One that only you are allowed to see. He appears to take on a different smile this time, softer and less pronounced. The curses you want to hurl get caught in your throat when he looks to your lips and hums faintly to himself, almost as if he’s forgotten that you are in the middle of an argument. 

You take a step back, and it shakes him out of his reverie. It shakes the both of you out of it. 

“Well? Let’s fucking hear it then.” You raise your arms in a gesture, egging him on. 

“Hear what?” he says, having the gall to be confused.

“What did you want to tell me that night? Tell me now, because you’ll never get the chance again.”

He straightens, getting his thoughts in order. He completely forgot about that issue, and talking is increasingly becoming the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to put his lips to better use. Something more worthwhile. “Helaena’s retiring,” he finally decides on saying, “and I think I should be your coach.”

You’re dumbfounded for a moment, his proposition whirring in your head. It makes sense, it does. He just gets you. But then again… 

“That’s rich,” you reply. “Do you think I would ever give up Art? He’s always been my coach and he’s damn good at it.”

“You’re not compatible,” he counters, “in the court and out of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He doesn’t see you,” he affirms. He would never lie to you, and he isn’t about to start now. He repeats, “He doesn’t see you, but I do.”

His words strike true, and it feels as if he’s just pulled the rug from underneath you, and you’re falling, falling… 

Right into his arms. And the impact is jarring, because it’s real. 

“We can’t.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, a reflection of your weakening restraint.

“Yes we can, ace.” He takes a step closer, and he lifts his hand as if on instinct, reaching for your face. But he’s frozen, unsure of how far he can toe the line that already lies fragile between you. “It should be you and me.”

Your eyes follow his movements, because you know you want him to give in and hold you. To touch your face. To kiss you.

And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong. 

“I have to go.” Your voice carries no emotion. You avert your gaze at the last second and catch the defeat that flashes across his face. It should come as a surprise that it pains you to see him like this, but then again, you see him as he sees you. You always have. Which renders your next words among the most painful to come out of your mouth. “We can’t do this anymore. Art already doesn’t trust me, and if this goes on, it’s only going to make things worse. I can’t talk to you - ” 

“No.” 

“- and I won’t be responding to anything- ”

“Stop fucking talking.” His anger is fledgling, rising to the surface. There is no way he will calmly accept these terms. “I said no, ace.”

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” you murmur, still unable to look at him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We run in the same circles. But we can’t be… us.”

“Forget it,” he seethes, trying to catch your eyes, and growling low when you don’t relent. “Forget him, ace. Or do whatever the fuck you want. But not this, I’m not having this.”

You exhale, having gotten the worst of it out of your chest. It’s over now. But it’s not a relief that you feel. It’s remorse. 

“Goodbye, Aemond.” With that, you finally take him in once more, and one glance is enough to shatter your resolve. His heightened ill temper shines clearly across his distinguished features. Under the midnight moon, he resembles a fallen angel, long dark blonde lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His shadowy, glass eye strangely adding to the appeal. 

Beautiful. And just not yours. 

One last, lingering look - then you walk away. The silence is deafening, and you feel numb all over. Your knuckles are taut at your sides, fingernails digging in your palms to keep those pesky, errant tears at bay. You’ve suffered defeat before, but this is much worse, because it’s coming solely from your own hand. How easily you give him up, someone who was never yours, and how badly it stings. 

“No,” you hear him say again, and you pray he shuts up so you can keep walking. 

He doesn’t. He repeats the word - no - over and over like some mantra under his breath. One second you feel nothing. Nothing at all. But then the wind whooshes around you and you’re being spun around to face him. 

And then, his lips claim yours, and you feel everything. 

Sounds come rushing back to you. His ragged panting against your lips, the pads of his fingertips kneading the back of your head, the wet smacking of his mouth on your own. The empty pit in your stomach is filled with those clichéd butterflies. More so when one of his hands travels down to grasp your waist and press your body against his. 

“Aem - ” Your mind catches up to you, and you try to say his name to get him to pause, but he slides his tongue past your teeth. 

“Shut up and kiss me, ace.” He breaks free for but a second, then hungrily kisses you again. You let him. You give in completely.

“Mmm, Aemond.” Your hands reach up to cradle his face and he takes that as an opportunity to pull back and openly admire you.

“You’re my ace,” he professes, connecting his forehead to yours. “And I’m not fucking losing you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You rush through the lobby of the hotel, hand in hand and giggling like schoolchildren as you duck your heads so as not to get recognised by the night concierge. 

With reckless abandon, your entwined bodies stumble into his suite, which just happens to be on the floor below yours. You once thought you would have to be inebriated beyond belief to surrender to a sin like this, and in a way you are. You’re high off of him - Aemond in his entirety, six feet of lean muscle, notorious foul-mouthed one-eyed libertine. 

“Fuck, ace.” He has his arms wrapped around you from behind, and he nips at your exposed neck. His touch roams and finds the mounds of your breasts, kneading mindlessly over your shirt. The sound that reverberates from his throat is carnal, and you feel it echo through your whole body. It drives you to press your ass against him, taking full notice of his hardness straining from his sweatpants. 

Feeling mischievous, you do it again, gripping his arms to anchor yourself while grinding against his cock. 

“Foul play,” he whispers against your neck, “you fucking minx.”

“There are no rules now.” You face him, running a finger along his jawline as you walk backward and he follows suit. Stopping at the edge of his bed, you strip out of your shirt, careful to keep your eyes locked on his the whole time. 

The movement is too slow for Aemond, and he desperately needs more. He pushes you onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He slides your sweatpants off your legs, then lets his hand drag from your ankle to your inner thigh. He promptly undresses, graceless and in a rush, until all his clothes are left in a heap on the carpet. 

His cock stands on attention, taut and goddamn long. You feel an ache below that compels you to rub your legs together, but he beats you to it and slides your underwear right off. “I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he croons. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

You take your bra off and you’re finally left completely bare. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between. He uses one hand to squeeze your breast and the other to keep your legs propped wide open. 

His eye meets yours, before he settles in, lowering his head until he’s breathing cool air onto your pussy. “Match point, ace.” 

You have him. He has you. 

When Aemond’s tongue plunges deep into your throbbing core, swirling inside like he wants to consume you whole, you have to bite your tongue to hold back a scream.

He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, and he’s so fucking good.

“Yes - yes - keep going, baby, fuck -  ” you moan, words breathy and irregular. 

He sticks two fingers into your wetness, using it to spread you wider, leveraging his tongue ever deeper. In and out they go, faster than the fuck, fuck, fucks coming out of your mouth in blissful sputters. 

He suddenly stops, a guttural hmm echoing from his lips, and you look down to see his lips coated in a mixture of his spit and your pre cum. “Not so fast, ace,” he taunts. “You’ll come when I say.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, still widespread and exposed to him. “What, are you coaching me through it?” 

He hums in affirmative and leans in to kiss you, juices still dripping from his chin. 

“You gonna follow my orders, ace?” he asks, and your mind spirals at how utterly lewd it sounds. 

“Wouldn’t you like that, Targaryen?” You let out another moan, biting your lip when he hungrily sucks on your breast. “Let’s see what you got first.”

He smiles at your playful instigation. It’s always come natural, this riffing back and forth. But this midnight dalliance - he wants it to be honest. He needs you to realise how much he wants you. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He gets on his knees, a hand braced on each of your thighs, his hardened cock at the ready. 

“Ma’am?” you breathe, a laugh dying in your throat when you his tip prods at your entrance.

“I can be agreeable under the right circumstances, ace.” He torments you by pushing his cock in but an inch. 

“Fuck me, Aemond,” you cuss in frustration, then, literally, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes take you in, one darkened blue and one ghostly pale glass. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says. “You good for it, ace?” He nods once, referring to whether a condom is needed and you take the hint right away.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Perks of having a top-of-the-line physio team. They hook you up on other things too.” Your cocky-athlete way of stating that you are on the pill. 

The lights are dim in the room, but you clearly see the resolve settle on Aemond’s face. He parts his lips like he wants to say something more, and you tilt your head questioningly. 

He feels the need to make some sort of declaration. Something true. It doesn’t seem right to say those damned three words at this moment, no matter how much he means them. You could think he’s trying to trick you in order to get what he wants. A good lay and nothing else. So he doesn’t say anything and lets the silence speak for itself. If you know him as you claim to, then you’ll see. 

You’ll see just how much this means to him.

You nod, and it’s an unspoken plea. 

He thrusts his cock into you with such force, stretching your walls with a sudden and blinding ache, until he is buried to the hilt. He reaches and cradles your face with one hand, the other keeping your ankle propped by his shoulder. 

“Move, Aem.” You buck your hips against him, his cock squelching in and out again.

“Yeah, baby?” He complies with his hips in response. “That feel good?”

“Yes. God yes.”

A switch flicks inside of him, and he almost snarls through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good, ace. Your pussy takin’ me so well…” His hips buck faster, in abrupt snapping motions, burying his cock each damn time. He connects your legs together and turns you to your side, altering the position slightly. 

You look behind your shoulder and see that feral look etched on his face. His grip is tight on the flesh of your hips and the curve of your ass, having it raised slightly for his convenience. He smacks your behind with an open palm, and it elicits a lusty moan out of you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “So beautiful like this, dripping around my fucking cock, huh? My good girl.”

The noises you release as a result are unintelligible. You press your face against the pillow in sheer pleasure, muffling your sounds. 

“I wanna hear you, baby,” Aemond protests. With practised ease, he repositions you so your ass is propped high before him, your body bent forward as you have to lean on your forearms to keep from planting your face on the sheets. 

He doesn’t ease up on his relentless thrusting, and you’re left squirming and cock-drunk. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you’re blissed-out on what only Aemond can give you.

“Does he fuck you as good?” he spits in obvious distaste. “I don’t think so, baby. Can’t fuck this pussy like I do.” 

“N-no,” you whimper, without any trace of guilt. “Only you, Aem.”

“Hmm,” he simpers. “Come for me, ace. Be a good girl now. Come around my cock, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you pant, growing weaker and weaker at his statements, your walls tensing for that release you crave.

“You’re mine, ace. Mine.”

Your whimper comes out sudden and unrestrained as you let go, and feel your warm juices leaking down your thighs. The sounds of his cock growing noisy and sloppier. He releases not long after, with a few sharp spasms, decorating your insides with his cum. 

Marking someone who is not supposed to be his. 

But nothing else matters as he crumples against you and pulls you into his arms. If something is to be reconciled with, it won’t be for tonight.

With these things, regret always comes along with the sunrise.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“40 - 30.”

The crowd cheers at the umpire’s announcement. You can barely make out the faces morphing together into one homogeneous mob, but you’ve observed enough to know that Aemond isn’t among them. Rivulets of sweat drip down your face and you walk to the side as another break starts. 

Helaena nods at you from the opposite side of the court, and you respond with a terse smile.

She resembles him so much - the one you’ve been avoiding for the past three days. With that same distinct shade of blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but possessing an aura of tenderness about her. If Aemond wasn’t lying about her plan to retire, then it makes perfect sense. She seems too good for the sport, too pure, whereas you fit right into its cruel constraints.

What sort of person would have done what you did, some nights ago, and be able to walk with their head held high? You want to believe that you regret sleeping with Aemond, that you would reverse your actions, given the chance. But the pain that eats at you is that you might have fucked things up for good, abruptly leaving before he woke up that morning. 

It’s ironic - you may just get what you said you wanted. To end things. Never to be the same with him again. 

You slump in your seat, wiping at your face with a towel, pushing all thought of Aemond from your mind. 

From your periphery, you catch Helaena gesturing to you. She smiles, and you think that your emotions must show so clearly on your face that she feels bad for you. 

She nods, and tilts her head to the side, so that you follow her gaze. Standing courtside, partially hidden in the corner just behind the barriers, you see Aemond closely watching you. 

He came after all. You turn back to Helaena, unable to hide your surprise, and she sends another smile your way. She knows. Of course she does. 

With renewed excitement, the match continues. It only takes one more point, one final ace, and you emerge triumphant. The court fills with cheers and sounds of celebration. It is declared that you are advancing to the next round of the tournament. You meet Helaena in the middle and she firmly shakes your hand, exhibiting no sign of disappointment. 

“Congratulations! Very well played.” She drops her racket and grasps your hand with both of hers. She leans closer, and adds, “You know, I also consider it a win for myself, because my last ever match is against the girl my brother is in love with.”

You forget where you are, the revelation rendering everything else moot. The cheering crowds disappear, and it’s just you and Helaena as she dips her head comfortingly, assuring you that you heard her words true.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she lets go finally, with a cheerful, “go celebrate!”

You feel yourself being whisked away, cameras flashing from all sides. Art appears in front of you and he pulls you into an embrace. Several onlookers gush at the sight. You barely take notice of them, your eyes already drifting to where Aemond was standing. 

There he remains, casually leaning against the barriers. Some audience members realise that the great Aemond Targaryen stands among them, and one by one a small crowd forms around him, asking for pictures and autographs.

He continues to hold your gaze, his usual smirk making an appearance, ignoring a guy waving a camera at his face. You shake your head at the scene, a genuine laugh bubbling from your lips.

You nod to each other, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all, and leave it at that. There’s a lot more to be said, for another time. Art wraps his arm around your waist, and Aemond takes it as his cue to look away, relenting to the eager fans surrounding him.

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend, immediately seeing the recognition in Art’s eyes. He’s seen everything. 

He doesn’t need to be as acutely perceptive as Helaena to realise the truth. That of the one-eyed rogue and his ace. You’ve been drifting from him for so long, that it was only a matter of time. 

He was your friend first, and he always will be. You’ve watched each other grow, through endless mistakes and challenges, and there’s a fire in you he cannot match. 

But Aemond can. He knows this now. 

He extends a hand out to you, one which you accept with poorly masked caution. He understands how woeful it must be, to tear yourself apart from being in love with someone else. The shame and uncertainty that must entail. 

For both your sakes, he decides that he has to be the bigger person and do the right thing. 

“What do you say?” Art offers to you. “Post match treat?” he asks, referring to your tradition of sharing a large strawberry sundae after games. 

“Okay.” Your smile is sweet and unguarded, and it reminds him of when you first met, nearly six years ago. That day, he knew he had made a lifelong friend. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I wish I could say I’m happy to see you here, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Aemond swivels toward the sound of your voice, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips. 

“Vile habit, Targaryen.” You wrinkle your nose, and he just shakes his head and crushes the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

“Yeah, well.” He merely shrugs. He was dead set on quitting, but something came up the past couple of days, causing his anxiety to reach new heights. When you ignored him after the night you shared, he can’t fault himself for reaching for depraved solace in nicotine. But no substance would ever be enough to erase the precious memory of watching you come undone. 

“Not happy to see me, ace?” he refers back to your greeting, not bothering to hide the hurt he feels. 

You walk closer to him, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I lied. But it’s not like I haven’t lied before.” You stop when you’re right in front of him, the remnants of his smoke making you feel woozy. “I also lied when I said that we can’t keep being us anymore. When I said goodbye.”

“Hmm,” his lips curl at your confession. “Judging by how wildly you fucked me after you said that, I could already tell.”

You roll your eyes, but you already feel so much better, like things are falling right back into place. All it took was some teasing from the apparently callous, sharp-tongued, ambitious-to-a-fault boy standing before you. 

A boy who revealed the true depths of his compassion only to you. He let you thaw out his cold heart from its confines and declared it yours. 

“Something more to say, ace?” he asks.

“You first.”

“Are you kidding? Why don’t you play this game with your boyfriend?”

You share a lingering look, effectively answering his question. The unabashed shit-eating smile that breaks out on his face is enough to tell you just how he feels. 

“Don’t gloat,” you warn him, but he’s already pulled you flush against him with both arms. “I also need a new coach.”

“Mhmm,” he nods, not really in response to your statement. “Save that for later, ace. Please shut the hell up and kiss me.”

He can’t help but smile through kisses, his lips chasing yours when you make an effort to pull away and say something more. 

“Aemond, will you - ”

“Fuckin’ - ” a cuss slips from him when you manage to break apart, depriving him of your lips. He answers impatiently, “Yes of course, I’ll be your coach, ace. Of course. Happy? I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Before he leans in once more, you say, “Don’t you dare fuck this up, Targaryen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

You lean back in mild surprise.

He laughs, “I mean - ace - or my love. Either one applies, really.”

"I... I prefer ace," you say weakly.

"Now, now, my love. I thought we promised not to lie to each other?"

taglist (all who commented on this post - surprise double feature incoming!) : @odeioemail @sapphossongbird @toodlesxcuddles @sinistersnakey9419 @fan-goddess @jhroseok @diannnsss @dixie-elocin @tostadasdetinga @1-800shootmeplease @goldyfishsstuff @pineappleicelostmary @raging-panda

Should you wish to be added to the Aemond (or Daemon) taglist, please comment on this post!

[kings-highway]

also in honour of my new phone, here are some phone based haikyuu headcanons for the bastards. usual ships apply. below the split bc its l o n g !

- Daichi resists getting a new phone like his life depends on it. he will repair, refurbish and reuse the one he has for as many years as humanly possible. when he does eventually get forced by time or circumstance to get a new one he is incredibly contrary to anything with new features and would like one that was like his old phone, thank you

- contrarily, Sugawara needs to be talked down from getting every new phone that gets released and voiding his 2 year contract. he's not even a brand loyalist literally just any new phone.

- yamaguchi is an iphone loyalist and has unironically said the "idk man the layout is just so easy :("bc he's clinging to the idea that there's some kind of social clout with iphones

- tsukishima fcking hates this and its one of the only real arguments yamaguchi and him have. tsukishima has some weird obscure phone brand that's apparently way higher tech but isn't compatible with most mass produced equipment

- noya has a cracked phone screen and has always had a cracked phone screen and sugawara is concerned about him because he's pretty sure he got a new phone recently, but the screen is cracked...

- asahi has the highest quality phone case you can get. he's not concerned about being clumsy, he's concerned about noya getting to his phone too.

- kiyoko has the cutest fucking phone case you can imagine. it's so pretty and artsy and nice

- yachi put cute stickers on her phone case

- kageyama has never thought more than eight seconds about his phone and just buys whatever the hell the guy at the kiosk tells him to.

- Oikawa likes nice phones and likes having something he can show off passively so he's always offering to take selfies/pictures because his phone camera is incredible

- iwaizumi also has a very cracked phone screen and he pretends like he has no idea how this happened but the truth is he knows exactly how it happened, he dropped it off a second floor balcony and doesnt want to admit it

- makki once lost his phone down a sewer grate

- ushijima had been using his parents old phones most of his life, so when he needs to get a new one, Leon, Tendou and Semi all fight over trying to help him and pitching their own preferences for what's "best"

- Tendou buys ushiwaka a little volleyball phone charm that he thinks is the funniest thing in the world. Tendou will catch him just, like, flicking it around in great amusement and nobody can figure out what about it he finds so entertaining

- Tendou has a French interface/language setting that is his default and literally nobody on the team who saw him using this assumed he spoke the language they all just thought he was Like That

- Semi has a broken phone screen also.

- Goshiki also has a broken phone screen. He saw a spider and panicked and dropped it.

- Bokuto doesnt have a cracked phone screen and this consistently surprises people

- Akaashi does have a cracked phone screen and he gets mad if someone asks about it

- Akaashi also always has a very nice phone and tends to upgrade pretty frequently. He's got all the fancy pieces too, wireless headphones and brand name charging cable.

- Kuroo has a phone so old it should be a crime to keep it alive

- Kenma's phone is his least favourite piece of tech he carries. it doesnt even have any good games. He sort of hates dragging it around because all it can do is text or call other people and why would he want to do that? He does have a cute case though.

- Fukunaga has a broken phone and when someone asks how it happened he just giggles.

- shocking everyone, Sakusa actually is pretty interested in updating his phone and having nice things. He just doesnt bother advertising his nice stuff/which brand/what features

- Kita is infamous for not replying to texts. It surprises people because he's so consistent in everything else, but because of those routines he doesnt get easily distracted and doesnt check his phone while on tasks. So if you need something from him between the hours of 3-7 you're out of luck because those are the hours he's doing homework, yardwork, and cleaning, and he simply will not think to look at his phone. It sits on his bedside table in his room, forgotten.

- Atsumu once broke his phone screen and tried to pass it off as Osamu's and this didnt work for literally just any of the million reasons it wouldnt

- Aran still complains about flip phones going away.

- Suna has some fancy phone thats super high powered and high tech and the twins still make fun of him for not having whatever phone is most popular at any given time. Suna is incredibly protective of his phone and won't let other people use it for anything.

Phone Background Headcanons! - ships included here!

- Daichi had one of the random free backgrounds for like two years until he started dating Suga and switched it to a picture of them (at suga's behest he do so)

- Suga has some really old selfie with Asahi and Daichi from their first year in which they all look terrible but it always makes him smile so he keeps it

- Asahi has a picture of the sunset he took

- Noya has some stupid motivational quote

- Yamaguchi and Tsukki have matching phone screens, two halves of the same photo. Tsukki got heavily coerced into this, but really doesnt mind

- Hinata has some weird volleyball moodboard he found online he thought looked cool

- Kageyama has the preset background. Hinata changes this to one of them after they start dating. Kageyama cant do anything about it because he doesnt know how to change it.

- Kiyoko has a picture of her family

- Yachi has a some pretty aesthetic patterned background

- Oikawa has a team photo of the seijoh 4 as his lockscreen, but his phone screen is just iwa making a goofy face (He hadnt known a photo was being taken)

- Iwa has a very, very nice photo of Oikawa. He had always insisted 100% that he would never do it, but the photo was just so perfect and he looked so nice he broke his rule

- Makki and Mattsun have matching phone screens that put together make their hands make a heart. The weird thing is they did this when they werent dating.

- Tendou changes his phone background often to whatever photo he thinks is funniest or cutest at any given time. Changes pretty much once a week.

- Ushijima has a picture of him and Tendou that often shocks people because it's very cute and romantic and then he'll just be staring back at them irl with his characteristic impassivity and people arent sure if the photo is really him or some weird doppelgangar.

- Semi has some cool aesthetic music background people make fun of him for

- Leon has a picture of his dog, probably

- Bokuto has a picture of himself

- Akaashi is too anxious to personalize his phone so he keeps it preset. Eventually Bokuto sets it to a picture of himself. (Before they started dating. Akaashi oddly never changed it...)

- Kuroo has a very bedhead-early-morning picture of Kenma

- Kenma has the main character from one of his favourite games. Kuroo cannot convince him to set him as his screen. The more he insists, the stronger Kenma gets

- Lev probably has an anime girl for his background. I love him but.

- Sakusa has that auto rotate feature for a collection of stock footage of landscapes

- Atsumu changes his background pretty frequently because he cant decide. half the time he puts the most terrible photo he can find of his friends

- Osamu just has some old photo from a family vacation, probably including a dog that has since passed away he cant bear to change

- Kita had a team picture set as his lockscreen - he has a picture of Aran for his homescreen, but nobody knows this since he never uses his phone in public.

- Aran set a picture of Kita the second they started dating. He rotates it out based on his favourite picture of the month.

- Suna has some stupid "warning" to whoever is reading it to put his phone down if they havent been given permission

---

my new phone has ! in the place my old phone had , so this post really wanted to be very excited. petition to put headphone jacks back in phones. got myself some unpopular phone the guy had to call his supervisor to learn how to sell bc it was the only model with a headphone jack and he'd never process the sale for one before. I'll die on this hill.

[evilvvithin]

I was ready to dislike or hate on the until dawn movie for it being different from the game but if you feel the same as I did please go watch the damn movie - it's so well done and I'm fcking happy it's different than the game, while keeping the game's features. It's a perfect mixture

[royalarchivist]

Quackity: And speaking of pep talking– speaking of pep talking, I need to make something so fcking clear to everyone is that QSMP Purgatory is a specifically entertainment event.

If someone wants to go full on and murder an entire team, let's say Red Team just fcking came on us right now – not like that – but let's say Red Team fcking came to us right now and beat the sht out of us, left us fcking hanging, like fcking– just fcking full on bullying. It is so acceptable to do that. That's what the point of Purgatory is! Purgatory is a fcking intense event.

If someone wants to fcking bully another team– it's Purgatory. It's fcking Purgatory! What people need to remember is that this is an entertainment event. Please, please treat it as entertainment. I am so SO fcking sick of people going to other creators and just shtting on them because they play Purgatory the way it's meant to be fcking played! That's the point of Purgatory! It's meant to fcking push people to fcking limit, make them show off their skills or make them just– it's all about that.

Bagi: [Clapping] Thank you!

Quackity: Purgatory is about that. So we need to please, for the love of God, fcking holy sht. If one creator decides to kill another person because it's in their best interest to do that, why would you fcking go and send hate? Why would you fcking go and send hate? It's a fcking Purgatory event! It's meant to be an event like that. SO– and I know a lot of people are enjoying it the way it's meant to be, but for the few people who genuinely don't like that, it's called QSMP Purgatory. I think it's time to leave– it's time to leave that to the side. It's a Purgatory event.

Me and Bagi are starting from fcking zero. Realistically, any team could come to us right now and fcking kick our ass, and they could leave us at zero over and over and over again.

Bagi: We have nothing.

Quackity: We have fcking nothing– it is so easy to kick our ass right now! It is so easy to kick our ass. And if someone did come, and if someone did do it, I wouldn't even be mad! I'd be like, "Fck yeah! Yes! That makes so much sense!"

Bagi: I don't even have the right to be mad because it's meant to be like that! So–

Quackity: I don't have sht! I don't have sht! Anyone could come and kill me right now! They could! So I just need to remind everyone, holy sht, please. This is an event meant for entertainment. That is what this event is. This event is not meant to actually– next time I see Badboyhalo, I'm not going to fcking slap him for killing me in a fcking Minecraft event. This is an entertainment purposes only event. And it is so discouraging for any creator that's part of this for people to go and sht on them when they play the game the way it's meant to be played. So: keep in mind, I beg you, it's an entertainment-only event. [Returning to his conversation with Bagi] But see, we're fcked. We have nothing–

[fayfaygoes]

"Omg I can't wait for Caleb , can't wait for Childhood friend to lover troupe"

I can't stress this enough.

Guys

GUYS

Caleb is not Just a "childhood friend" troupe HE IS GEGE .

It might sounds off putting but many part of Asia we refer to acquaintance or neighbors child slight older than us "Brother"/"Sister" ,call their parents uncle and Auntie's . And it will stay that way maybe later in Life.

But that doesn't mean they are off the partner list when you grow older .

Alot of my girls I know dating guys they used to call "Vaiya" / "Dada" which means Brother ,they still slip that off sometimes.

We all know the Korean word Oppa , it's used AGEYO too . It's so much used in koreaboo section that some people finds the word outright intolerable and Cringe .

But Oppa literally means Older brother and used to refer guys/classmates Older . Yeah you can call your Boyfriend Oppa it's not abnormal regardless of how you feel about it .

Another point-

You know how You set your nickname in game like honey girlfriend etc.

Well there's one nickname you can set in English.

It's "Darling"

But yk what I noticed all the time when I write that name down and have JP voiceover on.

They don't go "Da~rin~" like how you your expect darling to sound in JP accent.

Yk what they say

"NEe - SAN"

and you know what that translates too?

OLDER SISTER .

So yeah you are making them Call you NEE SAN .

But obviously English can't localize it literally so they are writing "Darling" ( I don't have knowledge about the CN part please lmk if yk)

So yeah it may sound Icky to you but there's chances are I would end up with a guy in my work area that I perhaps called Big brother in my language in past ,and there isn't something weird about it. And it shouldn't be made into weird stuff either . It comes quite naturally ,it's not Sweet home albama it's cultural difference.

I am referred to as an older sister by many young men out of respect but it stops there . My real siblings are the ones by blood .

And for Caleb you guys have to accept that and if you do ,Stop hating on him purely for this fact .

En localization team likely knew this is hard to accept and out of comfort zone

that's why they changed to "he is childhood friend" but in voiceover she calls him Gege

GEGE

Voiceover doesn't change that ,and they don't have to because it's understandable when u are used to that happening .

Despite all those connections and links. The Dr. Zayne meeting the MC in childhood and that plays a role .

He FALLS in childhood friend to lover troupe in the literal sense .Not Caleb ,he has a different connection to her in dynamic,that involves treating each other in sibling ways .

Not everyone you call "older brother" / "older sister" you end up pinning for ,that's not what happens. But if you do as two consenting adults there's Nothing wrong WITH it .

So If it was a normal character MC was acquainted with ,then how you view her calling him Gege is Up to your interpretation,it can be anything.

But since it's an OTOME and he is most definitely gonna come back .

So yeah this time You are romancing that GEGE FOR SURREEEE

You guys aren't staying behind that title where you both will continue maintaining safe distance and took them out of the chart as if they are off limit. You are FCKING.

You can accept that , it's one of those cultural compromises

You can enjoy the En localized part if you want but actual intended interpretation should NOT make you retaliate and be defensive stating how Caleb is not that he is childhood friend troupe yada yada yada.

I saw some say Caleb is the actual Childhood friend to lovers troupe because zayne doesn't do the troupe correctly 😶

Each of the lads LIs have Uniqueness in more than one area to the point they don't stand in the same category . Zayne & Caleb is not the same category LIs either and it's not purely for sole fact "oh Caleb is different than zayne, different personalities etc" there is more difference ,troupe has DIFFERENT TITLES.

She has known him as Gege for so long y'all aren't ready for the angst of possible romance coming in between ,the self guilt ,the self restriction ... EVERYTHING.

[fujoeyshi]

I hate thsi fcking leech so much this game is so stupid ANYWAYS! Heres Sir Dadadoo. I might start posting GOBB art since im brainrotting over it. So if you want me to draw any more characters leave suggestions.! ^^

[the-most-humble-blog]

🛐 I MISS WHEN A MAN COULD FLIRT WITHOUT AN INDICTMENT

---

Watched Batman the other day — the old one, back when Gotham had smog, style, and sexual tension that didn’t require a five-page legal brief.

There’s this scene. First day at the job. She’s at her desk. New in town. He rolls up, lays it on thick like mayo at a truck stop.

Did he cross a line?

Nah.

He leaned in, flirted like a man who still had testosterone and a mortgage. Didn’t get the kiss. Didn’t throw a tantrum. He backed off, took the L like a legend — and then became her loyal fcking sidekick*.

He called Bruce Wayne “Bruce Vain” behind his back, got humbled, and still walked away with a f*cking GRANT from Batman himself. That’s game. Clumsy, human, but real.

You know what didn’t happen?

---

Nobody screamed “sexual harassment.”

Nobody cried “toxic masculinity.”

Nobody made a TikTok about “why his vibe felt off.”

None of that cold, dehydrated soy-based fear-filtering we call interaction today.

The women I was with?

They didn’t clutch pearls. They didn’t say “ew, creep.”

They said: “Aww. He really likes her. She’s just into Bruce.”

End of discussion.

That’s the world I miss.

---

---

The world where men could try and women could decline — and that wasn’t a hate crime. It was just... flirting.

Now?

Piss standing up and someone calls HR.

Make a joke and someone files a trauma report.

We used to be humans. Now we’re just malfunctioning algorithms terrified of tripping each other’s “ick sensors.”

---

🧠 TL;DR

I miss when a man could say “You’re stunning” without needing a lawyer.

I miss when a woman could say “Not interested” without being called a bitch.

I miss flaws. I miss tension. I miss actual f*cking romance.

---

💣 CALL TO ACTION

🔁 Reblog if you remember when flirting was legal.

🛡️ Save this post if you still talk to people with your eyes, not a disclaimer.

🔥 Send to someone who still has a spine and a sense of humor.

---

⚖️ DISCLAIMER

This post is Blacksite Literature™, satire-porn for the emotionally awake, and psychological trigger-bait for the comfortably numb.

It is protected by cultural warfare protocols, timeline memory retention rights, and the sacred right to say sh*t that matters.

If you’re offended?

Good. You felt something. That means you’re not dead yet.

---

🔁Reblog to keep my signal to mankind going strong.

[forsaken-headcanons]

HIHIHI SAY HI TO THE OTTER ANON 🦦

yknow how rochas an actual guy and forsakens a roblox experience... right?? course ya do this is the forsaken headcanon blog-

ANYWAYS-

I think forsakens version of the tree wouldve done something similar to what the serverblight [yknow that one tf2 arg] does to its victims where it puts the players consciousness into the game, but gives them little to no control over their player character

especially since people believe that rochas is being controlled by that fcking tree i hate during the rounds-

alr thats it :D

I really should watch all that tf2 horror stuff. I've been sleeping on Emesis Blue for months now.

[thewoodshungers-if]

Holiday Special 2024

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and happy new years!! I know that I'm not really consistent with updates, and I'm thankful that you guys are still around, even just to chat and/or see how I'm doing.

I got myself a desk now, so I should be able to work more consistently on my IFs! Hopefully an update in 2025.

Now the special: ROs reaction to being snowed in with you (crushing stage).

there is only 1 bed 👀 + it's fcking cold 🤤 = you have to cuddle, with details.

Viel:

He would try his best to get the fire going as much as possible, might even consider stripping the furniture inside the cabin for firewood if you didn't stop him (or you can also burn the wooden chair together with him, if you'd like).

Would hesitate to join you in bed 'to keep the fire going', but would give in quickly if you admitted that you're still feeling cold. He buried his head into your shoulders, one hand thrown over your stomach as you laid on your back.

"I'm not worried that you're cold. I'm worried that we'll get cold. Do you understand the difference here? Now help me snap this chair leg-"

...

You ruffled his hair and he grumbled, pulling you closer, "What? You're still cold? You're so spoiled for a so-called knight..."

Nora:

Her first worry: Her body's normal temperature is ice cold, and cuddling her would be like cuddling a block of ice. You would have to argue with her for quite a long time to convince her to just share the bed with you to keep warm.

Would melt under your touch the moment you pull her under the covers. She couldn't help but stare at you as you lay face-to-face under the covers, fingers intertwined, your gesture more than enough to keep her warm from the inside.

"I won't die if I didn't sleep for one, cold, night. You on the hand, might just die as a block of ice. Well, yes, I could feel the cold just the same- That's not my point-"

...

She pulled your hands towards her, blowing warm air onto your fingers with puppy-dog eyes full of worry, "Your fingers are so cold, are you sure you'll be alright? I hate this... I couldn't even warm you up..."

Ylfa:

Could barely contain her giddiness at the thought of spending the night with you, just the two of you lmao. Would think up so many games to play with you for the night, but the moment she saw how cold you were, all of it would be forgotten.

Would have the initiative to pull you under the covers, pulling you close so that she's pressed against your back. Her thumb drew circles on your arms, a soft hum of an ancient lullaby lingering as you drifted to sleep.

"What?? You're cold? Why don't you say so? Our games can wait-"

...

She rested her forehead against your back, "Don't forget, you owe me a game night- Hm? No, I meant just the two of us... "

Aen'frie:

Would wonder if it was a good time to try to trick you into their schemes in exchange for keeping you warm. That thought was thrown out the window the moment the word 'cold' left your mouth, and would get flustered at the thought of actually sharing the bed with you to keep warm.

Would be worried they'll accidentally impale you with their horns, but when you threw your arm around them and pulled them close to you, they blanked out.

"What do you say I keep you warm, and in exchange, you'll give- You're cold? You want to share the bed with me? No! I mean, of course, but my horns- And you-"

...

They kept your hands between theirs as they played with your fingers, drifting off to sleep, "You're so warm... I wish we could sleep like this every night... "

The Cook:

Would miraculously find an alcohol flask (for drinking) hanging from his toolbelt 😭. They would share it with you, heavy blanket thrown over your bodies to keep warm. But the fun and rowdiness would trickle away when it was actually time to sleep, and they'll feel self-concious all of sudden.

He would feel all warm and comfy at first, arms around you with your back against their chest, but if you kept moving around and if they're awake for long enough, their mind would veer into the gutter (sorry MC).

"The party has only started! Now let's- What? The flask is already empty? You wanted to sleep now? Together? I... Uh, no, I don't have a problem with that..."

...

Their hands found your hips, pinning you to the bed to keep you from moving around, "Fuck... I'm begging you here. Stop moving around. Why, you ask? It's... It's annoying, I can't sleep like this. Now stay still."

Caine:

Would be more worried that you'll feel obligated to stand and keep watch of him in the cold. He resorted to fussing over you and making sure you're warm, throwing the blanket around you and checking if your fingers were cold.

He laid on his back, pulling you closer until your head is resting on his shoulders, one of his arms around your waist. Would quickly regret the position though, since you might feel his abnormally fast heartbeat.

"We can share the bed- Would that be uncomfortable for you? I don't want my knight to be sick, you understand? Now keep yourself warm-"

...

His free hand found yours, checking to see if you're still cold, "How are you feeling? Me? I feel warm with you here- My heartbeat?? No, you're imagining it, this rate is normal for me-"

Also see:

ROs reaction to 'there is only one bed'

ROs big spoon / little spoon preference

Thank you for following the development of The Woods Hungers!