#i’m sorry you can tell who my favorite is

[lunafreya24]

A Passion of Ice and Fire

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon/Cregan Stark

Chapter 7: Jace reunites with his little brothers Joffrey and Aegon. Joffrey has a lot of questions and opinions for his big brother.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jace and Baela made their way back to the castle, the sound of children’s feet on the dirt trail grew louder and louder. 

“Jace! You’re home!” Joffrey exclaimed, running down the hill, followed by a toddling Aegon. Jace knelt down to embrace his little brothers. Their reunion was briefly interrupted by a tutor, her voice panicked as called after the boys. 

“Oh, there you are! I’m sorry to bother you, my prince, my lady.” She apologized. 

“That’s alright.” Jace assured, placing Aegon on his hip. “Come now,” he said to both children, “we need to freshen up before supper.” They started up the hill again. 

“Jace?”

“Yes Joff?”

“When will I get to eat with you and mummy again?” Joffrey asked. Rhaenyra had begun to let Joffrey dine with everyone else for unimportant dinners, but since the war started, every dinner was an important dinner. 

Jace chose his words carefully, knowing this would be one of many delicate questions his brothers would have. “I’m not sure Joffrey, only time will tell. But I can assure you, it’s much less fun without you there. Nothing but tedious politics and strategy.” 

“Why did our uncles make mummy so angry?” Joffrey asked, he had heard his mother and members of her council talking loudly about his uncles during his lessons, their voices dripping with disdain. Jace and Baela shared a worried look, searching for the right answers. Jace took a deep breath before answering. 

“Well…. Aegon stole something that belonged to mother, and Aemond took his side. It would be as if little Aegon stole your room when you weren’t home, and Viserys said he was right in doing so.” 

“That would make me angry.”

“Exactly. But Aegon stole something even more important than that, he stole her throne. Grandsire said that mother would rule the realm when he passed. But now, Aegon and Queen Alicent claim he changed his mind, and Aegon is the rightful king now.”

“But why?”

“Because the Greens think mother is not strong or smart enough to rule.” 

“But mummy is strong! And she’s smarter than any of those idiot Greens!” Joffrey exclaimed, his steps growing into angry stomps. 

“Yes, she is. And that is why we are going to fight for her and get her throne back.” 

“I can fight too! I’ll defend mummy, just like you!” 

“There will come a time for that, Joffrey. But right now, mother needs you to be good and brave. She needs you to listen and try hard in your studies and training. And when your time comes, you will be as fierce and noble as any of us.” Jace assured his brother, hoping it would calm his eagerness for the time being. As they came closer to the castle, Aegon, who had been sitting quietly, grabbed onto Jace’s necklace, grasping the pendant with surprising gentleness. 

“Pretty.” He said, staring at it, fascinated. 

Jace let out a soft chuckle, “It is pretty, isn’t it.”

“Where did you get it?” Joffrey asked.

“My….. friend from the north gave it to me, as a gift.”

“What’s her name?”

“My friend is a boy, Joffrey. His name is Cregan.”

“But he gave you a necklace. I thought that was something only boys and girls do.”

“Well, my friend is a boy and he gave me a necklace. It was a kind gesture.”

“Does that mean he loves you?”

That question made Jace stop dead in his tracks. Baela looked at Joffrey with a mix of shock, fear, and amusement.

“Where did you learn that?” She asked him gently. 

“In my book, the princess gives the gardener her favorite necklace. She says it so he can have a piece of her, because their love is forbidden.” The four of them stood in silence for several seconds. At that moment, the tutor, who had been trailing behind them, completely forgotten, spoke up. Her shrill voice felt like a shockwave, shooting down Jace’s spine. 

“I think I’ll take the young prince to clean up now. I shall return for Prince Joffrey when he’s finished.” She announced, realizing the princes’ need for privacy at the moment. 

“Thank you.” Jace whispered, handing Aegon back to her. After they left, Jace turned back to Joffrey. He and Baela took a seat on the rocks, with Joffrey nestled between them, his eyes bright with curiosity and confusion. 

“Does your friend Cregan love you, Jace?” 

Jace took a moment before answering, “Yes, Joffrey. He does love me.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes”

“And is it forbidden? Like the princess and the gardener?”

Jace felt a lump in his throat as he said, “Yes, Joff. It’s forbidden.”

“Why?” 

“Because….” Jace struggled to find the words and keep his composure. 

“Because,” Baela intervened, “people don’t understand it. They don’t understand why two men would love each other instead of a woman, much like they don’t understand why your mother is meant to rule the realm. And when people don’t understand something, they get angry, make rules that were never needed so they can feel more in control. But you can’t control love, Joffrey. It happens when it wants, where it wants, no matter how many laws and dangers there are against it, it’s still there.” 

“So, what will you do now?” Joffrey asked Jace.

“Our love will have to be a secret for now. Baela and I will marry, our friendship will bind us. Cregan will take a wife soon, and I hope she is kind to him, understands him the way Baela understands me. We will find moments to hold each other close, before returning to what is expected of us.” 

“That sounds sad. I don’t want you to be sad for the rest of your life!” Joffrey exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes filling with tears. Jace smiled sadly at his brother’s concern, gathering him into his lap.

“I won’t be sad forever, Joff. It’s not like the storybooks. It will be hard and sad at times, but I still have plenty to make me happy. You make me happy. Baela makes me happy. My family makes me happy. Vermax makes me happy. And Cregan and I still have our love for each other. We will find a way, even in the shadows.” 

“It’s not fair.” 

“No, it’s not. But such is the way of the world. It will do you no good to be sad for me.” He said, gently wiping Joffrey’s tears away. “Know that I’m alright, and I have all the love I could ask for.”

[misterpseudonym]

[supercalime]

Just thought about sharing this frame right here

Do with it what you will

[wafflinglumos]

My Golden Trio Headcanons (some modern some not)

Harry:

Oddly good at beer pong.

One time caught the snitch in his mouth and almost died.

Is REALLY good at cooking(less headcanon and more actually canon)

Loves the rain, absolutely hates thunder.

Had American southern tea ONCE and never looked at Earl Grey the same way again (Hermione gets upset about it every time they get tea together)

Soap opera lover(he watches them with Ron)

Is really good at drawing birds specifically.

He’s good at pottery but can only make bowls and plates.

SPIDER-MAN FAN

Ron:

Chess lover, both magic AND muggle(that’s canon but I’m including it anyways)

When Harry tried American sweet tea for the first time, Ron got to try fried butter for the first time too, he promptly inhaled it.

He hates crabs.

He often has stare offs with Crookshanks which either end with Ron getting mauled, or Crookshanks getting locked out of the room.

Is a DIEHARD Beastie Boys fan, Hermione introduced him to them and he hasn’t looked back since.

His favorite color is the exact shade of brown that Hermione’s eyes are :)

Soap opera lover(he watches them with Harry)

Wears bright neon crocs, has worn them on dates with Hermione before, will wear them on dates with Hermione again.

Got a buzz cut one time and Hermione screamed in pure unbridled terror when she saw it(she did not speak for him for a week, he had to magically grow it back)

Bad at pottery but loves playing with the clay.

DEADPOOL FAN

Hermione:

Aroace spectrum(because I love projecting onto characters and it’s canon in my eyes)

One time tried to straighten her hair and both Ron and Harry got scared when they saw it(it did not work)

Knows ALL of the Elder Scrolls lore

Has played Skyrim to completion over 19 times.(that is not an exaggeration, she’s pulled various all nighters)

HORRIFIC sleep schedule

Will not read romance, UNLESS it’s completely historically accurate.

Bad at drawing, really good at pottery oddly enough.

While she’s good at pottery, she absolutely despises the feel of wet clay, and then the feel of dry clay on her skin so she doesn’t sculpt stuff without gloves on.

Hates the texture of pasta, it has to be made in a VERY specific way for her to enjoy it.

Doesn’t like being smooched on the temple because it’s too close to her eyes and she thinks it’s unsanitary.

Had a seafood boil one time and was out like a light for a full DAY.

Tried a vegan diet for like a year but she accidentally ate a wet piece of ham in a sleep deprived delirium.

Beans on toast FIEND.

One time had a five day mental breakdown over magic and specifically quidditch brooms not following the laws of physics.

Dinosaur nerd.

Dr Strange and Reed Richards fan

Golden Trio:

Codependent.

They have a book club, Ron’s favorite genre is a mix between really cheesy badly written romances and westerns, Harry’s favorite genre is murder mysteries and philosophy, funnily enough, Hermione doesn’t like murder mysteries because she guesses the plot/plot twists and they’re always correct, she usually only reads non-fiction but she occasionally likes accurate science fiction and she also enjoys biographies.

Hermione once sat them down to watch a bunch of muggle movies, some Harry recognized, while Ron was just utterly entranced by the television, occasionally shaking Harry’s shoulder when something happened on screen.

While Hermione was finishing her seventh/ “eighth” year she was sent at LEAST ten letters DAILY, from both Ron and Harry.

They shared an apartment for like two years and would quiet often all sleep in the same bed.

That habit followed them into adulthood, and they occasionally sleep in the same bed.

Both Harry and Ron, along with Ginny, will flaunt Hermione being the minister, often.

Harry has forced the other two to rewatch every Star Wars movie, more than ten times.

Ron and Hermione broke up one time in their relationship and Harry was more distraught than both of them combined.

[h-didanart]

Question: How many AU Bloodmoons do you have?

BOY AINT THAT A GOOD QUESTION

*slams three notebooks, an iPad, and the phone on the table*

LET US FIND OUT!

Bloodmoons that I have written or drawn about in public platforms where their existences can be confirmed:

Five pairs and a single, these are:

Everyone is alive, for some reason- My takes on Bloodmoon I and Bloodmoon II that appear on a one shot I wrote and a concept I shared here; Dagger and Rifle (placeholder name, I don’t know what else to call him :(), Rabies and Bleed

The Moon and Sun show- The ones from my swap au, which I am still counting because Fang has exactly one line which was meant as foreshadowing tho I don’t know if it worked cuz no one mentioned it; Scythe and Fang

The Bloodmoon One- The ones from… that au (which for some reason I made an alternate timeline for where they’re humans); Bloody and Harvest

Get in losers- The ones from my more silly au where everyone joins the family; Hunter and Harvest

The bffs- The one that got separated and became Jack’s friend, or has Jack as his emotional support bot, and the root world of the Virus!Jack event; Original

Those are the guys you guys can figure out I made rather easily.

Now, having looked through my notebooks and writing spaces, and counting the six Bloodmoons we already have:

Sixteen pairs, two singles, one trio, and one quartet

That’s eleven pairs, one single, one trio, and one quartet more than what you guys know.

Let’s get into their lore, shall we?:

The tree at face value- I was experimenting with family set ups for the Celestials and decided to take things literally, Bloodmoon here would be the child of Eclipse. They were never named.

Creator sucks, deluxe edition- okay, okay, this one is weird, and I’ll admit I wasn’t really thinking it through when I made the concept, ergo it will probably come off as insensitive and weird, which is understandable because I was not thinking through what I was thinking. So, human au, Sun and Moon and Lunar have DID, both Bloodmoons are Lunar’s alters. That’s it. This is one of the two aus in which the twins are younger than 20. Lunar, Hunter, and Harvest.

The RaTc (pronounced ‘rats’)- short for ‘Redhead and traumatized club’, basically a place where I drop all my favorites//ocs that have so many things in common that I can refer to them as being ‘the same guy’. Bloodmoon II was the latest addition. Original and Adaptation

Uno-less afterlife- my take on the ghost versions of the dead SAMS characters, I’m planning to write a one shot for this one when Sun dies (or if, I guess). There’s the first Bloodmoon who’s half melted and kinda disintegrating, and the newer addition of a mutilated Adaptation II. Original and Adaptation, Copy Adaptation

This is what you wanted- that concept I shared sometime last month (?), Bloodmoon wanting to get reprogrammed and getting Eclipse to help them, and then getting amnesia. Ruby and Scarlet

DND mini phase- a simple doodle of Bloodmoon as a vampiric rogue, thing which I don’t even know if it’s possible. They weren’t named

Death game- … I may have watched a Danganronpa let’s play. Look, the concept is neat, and the character designs are cool as hell! That said, I did plan a whole au revolving around the SAMS characters being put in a death game, I’m pretty sure I planned to have the twins kill someone and get away with it because of a loop hole. Bloody and Harvest

Fantasy au- not restricted but definitely inspired by DnD, a magical world where there’s all sorts of creatures and places. The Bloodmoons were vampires that Eclipse got to work for him, and then got out of control. Ruin revived them as a demon on account of being a necromancer. Neither the first or second versions were named

Pure and utter regret- I… I might’ve… I might’ve shipped the twins and Jack at some point— It was a crackship and I don’t even ship them anymore, I‘ve adopted the ‘Bloodmoon is aroace’ headcanon, and y’know, canon is being canon for Jack. They’re really just friends now. Yet, I still have about three digital pages worth of them being all kissy and shit. I feel like shit. Fuck, I even had a name for them. I hate myself. They go by every single name ever given to a Bloodmoon (because this was purely a fun crack ship)

April fools actor au- exactly as it says, Sun and Moon started thinking of ways to bring engagement up for the channel, and then Eclipse popped up, and so they all ran the channel together, bouncing ideas off of one another, and so began the lore episodes. Bloodmoon is a bot that was made by Eclipse from some scraps of code he did originally intend to use to mess with the Celestial twins, now repurposed into a theatre kid. They probably have names but they’re only referred to as Original and Adaptation

I got infected by Magic Girlitis- I was watching a bunch of videos about Madoka Magica, and then I watched the ‘Will you press the button’ video, so now I have magical girl designs for Moon, Sun, and Lunar. I never got to them, but the blood twins would’ve had a really cool introduction and would’ve been a genuinely scary antagonist to our heroes. They weren’t named

Fragment of the ocean- I asked a friend of mine what I should draw for Mermay, they said mermaids and oceanic creatures, I accidentally created an au. Bloodmoon is an apparent human (has never been seen as a mermaid), who after being controlled and used by several people was adopted into the Foxy family. They also have DID, because human. This is the second au where the twins are younger than 20. Bloody, Scythe, Hunter, and Rabies

AAaaaand that’s a wrap! Those are all the Bloodmoons I have come up with!

I think

I hope

🎶I pray that he— uh wrong character

I may have issues

[literallyjusttoa]

The urge to fill the ToA tag of Ao3 with fics sharing similar tropes and characterization as the HoO fics I read in 2016 on fanfiction.net grows stronger every day.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ Just say you’re sorry ~

THIS IS FOR THE AMAZING ANON THAT INSPIRED THIS FIC SO KUDOS TO THEM 💞✨💗💕

Also tagging my fellow moots who love this HC as much as I do:

@someone1348 @tickleebug @prettychillbrainfreeze @ghostlyshylee @itzystopkiddingmenowloco

Lee’s: Leo🐢💙 and Mikey🐢🧡

Ler’s: Raph🐢❤️ and Donnie🐢💜

Summary: Raph and Donnie have been getting pranked by they’re younger brothers all day. So like the good big brothers they are, they hatch a totally not devious plan to teach they’re younger sibs a lesson.  

(A/N: AS ALWAYS- T*EST DNI YOU NASTY CREEPY WEIRDOS)

———————————————————————

“Stupid dumb-dumbs…stupid stupid dumb-dumbs…”

Raph turned around from where he was sitting on the living room couch to see his immediate younger brother- Donnie- pacing back and forth in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee that spilled a little bit every now and again as he turned around in a pacing circle. 

The young genius was wearing his dark purple sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, wearing his occasional purple mask and goggles. Raph was wearing his own mask as well, clashing with his grey/gray sweatshirt.

The snapper got up from the couch, putting his phone down and walking to his immediate younger brother. “Hey, bud…you okay?” Raph asked, putting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder as a way to show his comfort. The younger looked up at Raph and started chuckling, even though the eldest turtle was 99.9% sure nothing he just said was funny…

“What’s wrong..? What’s WRONG???” Donnie yelled, going close to Raph’s face so they’re snouts touched before stepping away from him. The softshell put his coffee mug on the counter, pacing back and forth again while his hands were behind his back. 

“Oho, I’ll tell you what’s wrong. What’s wrong my dear older brother, is that those imbeciles that I apparently have to call my younger brothers have been pulling pranks on me left and right ALL DAY. I can’t get any work done without fearing for my life that another water balloon or paint cannon is going to hit me!” Donnie said, throwing his hands up to the air before putting them back down. The purple cladded sibling sighed, rubbing a hand down his face slowly as he tried to calm himself down.

Donnie was frustrated- very very (that’s two very’s) frustrated if you couldn’t tell. The genius wanted to have a productive day; a day where he got almost all of his work done and he had the rest of the evening to spend with his family and friends. Believe it or not, the softshell actaully enjoyed spending time with his family, even if he acts like he dreads every single second of it.

But sadly, the universe didn’t want the day to go the way Donnie had originally planned. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 younger siblings that were annoying as FU- fudge. Annoying as fudge.

Anyway, the two gremlins have been placing boobytraps and pranks all over the lair, such as sparkle canons, water balloons, whoopie cushions- you name it! And at the end of every single prank there would be this…card that mysteriously came out of nowhere. It was orange and blue and had Mikey and Leo’s faces on it, saying “You just got pranked by the Portal Pals! (P.S. L + Bozo)”

Which was…cute. It was nice that the two were having fun and spending time with each other…but WHY did they’re fun have to torture Donnie in the process?

“You too, huh?” Raph chuckled, reaching into his sweatshirt pocket and taking out a couple of Leo and Mikey’s “You just got pranked!” cards. Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle along with Raph at the sight of the cards, going over to him and resting his head on his plastron, groaning. The snapper just laughed some more, wrapping his immediate younger brother in a hug as he patted his battleshell.

“They’re. so. annoying.” Donnie whined, rubbing his hands along his face as Raph sighed. “I mean, yeah. They’re our little brothers, little bro. It’s kind of they’re job to annoy the living hell out of us, y’know?” The eldest reasoned, patting Donnie’s shoulder as he huffed, his anger starting to slip away. “Yeah…I guess so…” the softshell mumbled, taking his head up from Raph’s plastron and smiling at him.

“But hey! Look on the bright side: that doesn’t mean we can’t get payback~!” Raph exclaimed, winking at Donnie who raised one of his sharpie drawn eyebrows, curiosity and mischievousness written all over his face. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Donnie asked, grinning from ear to ear. 

Raph grinned back, nodding his head in confirmation. The second-oldest turtle  smiled a bit more (this time being a kind of evil smile) as he took out his phone from his pocket, going into they’re family GC. The younger started typing up something on his phone, beginning to walk to his lab.

“Walk and talk with me, Raphie. I’ve got a plan…”

🕺🏾🐢🍕Cool Kids GC 🍕🐢🕺🏾

Today at 2:34 pm 

*🕺🏾👾Bootyyyshaker9000👾🕺🏾 is online*

Hello my fellow fam

*UrfaveChamp😘😘😘✨💙 is online*

*Mystic_Mike🎨🤩 is online*

Yoooo

Hey Don!

How are you 😁🥰?

Good good.

How’s the eyebrows working? Feelin pretty, bro?

Donnie groaned from Leo’s text, about to type “kys” in the GC to his younger twin before Raph cleared his throat, shaking his head in disapproval as they continued to walk. The softshell sighed, deleting the text before he was about to send it in the GC. 

“There. Happy?” Donnie asked as the oldest nodded, walking into the lab and both sitting on the lab’s desk chairs. “Very.”

“Anyway, what’s he even talking about, Don?” Raph asked, confused. Donnie ran a hand down his face, clicking out of messages and showing Raph a picture he took earlier. It was a pic of Donnie’s eyebrows covered in sparkles, glitter and fake gemstones- and it looked completely awful. Let’s just say the eyebrows looked like a second graders art project. 

Uh…no offense to any second grader of course…

“One of they’re sparkle canons got me…” Donnie mumbled. The softshell was so glad he was able to clean that monstrosity off- he would never be able to live that down without anyone making fun of him for it. 

Raph cackled at the picture, putting a hand to his face as he did so. “Stop laughing...” Donnie glared, taking the phone back so Raph couldn’t see the photo anymore. And if the alligator snapping turtle knew any better, he could’ve sworn that he saw a pout on his immediate younger brother's face. 

“It isn’t funny.” The pout caused Raph to giggle a bit more, booping the softshell’s snout as the younger playfully swatted his hand away. “It is a bit funny…” Raph giggled, smirking at Donnie. The second oldest just chuckled as he rolled his eyes, clicking out of his Photos app and right back to the GC.

They’re fine, actually. The sparkles really complimented my eyes.

See! Told you he would like it, Mikey!

A success in my book

Oh whatever 😒😒😒

✨Anywaysssss✨

What is it that u needed, Don?

R u okay?

Oh, yeah. I’m fine.

I just need you both to come to my lab.

I have to make a huge announcement to say to everyone.

It’s extremely important.

Raph’s already with me so I just need you two to come.

Oh! 

Okay! 

Oooh! Must be a pretty important if we’re coming to Dee’s lab…

Yes- it is important. I literally just said that.

See you in like- 15 seconds, Dee!

Wait! Raph’s w/ u right now?

Yes. Raph is with me as of right now.

Ask him for me how he likes his new room setup 😁✨ 

LMFAOAOAOAO

Raph grabbed Donnie’s phone out of his hands, his face red in embarrassment as he typed in the group chat. “What’s he talking about, man?” Donnie chuckled confused, not used to seeing his older brother so flustered. 

After the snapper was done with…whatever he was typing, his face relaxed- seeming really calm and content now. Raph cleared his throat, handing the phone back to Donnie. “We don’t talk about it.” 

KSYNDND

*KYS

THIS IS RAPH TYLINGNEN

*TYPING

KANSHSJAKSHS!!!

U KNOW ITS FUNNY BRO-BRO

I HATE YOU 2 SM LITERALLY DIE😡😡😖!!!

BAHAHAHAJSHSBDKDK

We love you tooooo Raphieee~!☺️☺️☺️😘😘💕💖💞💖💖✨✨

Donnie clicked out of the messaging app and glared at Raph. “How come I can’t type ‘kys’ in the group chat but you can!?” He asked, putting his phone on his desk and crossing his arms. “Eldest brother privileges, duh.” Raph said calmly, merely shrugging as Donnie rolled his eyes for probably the millionth time today. 

.

.

.

“What’s with the random call to Dee’s lab? Are we experimenting on something?” Leo asked excitedly, looking around the lab to see if there was anything brand new or important to test on as him and Mikey walked in. “Yeah! What is it? I wanna know!” Mikey asked as well, grinning from ear to ear waiting for either of his older brothers to answer the question.

Leo was wearing his dark blue sweatshirt, with his blue mask. Mikey was also wearing his favorite orange sweatshirt, also wearing his mask. 

Not answering any of the younger two's questions, Donnie tapped a few buttons on his wrist watch, closing the lab door behind them. The two quickly looked behind them at the door and then at each other, nervousness starting to broil up in they’re stomachs. “Don? Raph? You guys okay…?” Leo asked, his head tilting to the side in confusion as his twin and older brother just stood there staring at him and Mikey.

“So…you guys gonna keep staring at us, or are you gonna tell us why we’re here…?” Mikey said as he scratched his head in confusion. 

“Glad you two are so curious to find out why I called you here.” Donnie smiled, him and Raph getting up from they’re chairs, looking at they’re younger brothers with a deadpanned face. There was another awkward silence with all of them just staring at each other. 

The two youngest weren’t sure if they were called in Donnie’s lab for a legitimate reason or if this was some huge staring contest. Leo and Mikey exchanged worried glances, “Soooo…you gonna tell us or what?” Leo chuckled, crossing his arms trying to hide his nervousness at his twins vague answers. 

“Well, you and Mikey have been pranking me and Don a lot.” Raph said stating the obvious, only for Leo and Mikey to chuckle. “Is this what this is about? Are we in trouble or something?” Mikey giggled, nudging Leo in the elbow causing the older to snicker.

“You two aren’t in trouble per say. We just want to join in on the fun too!” Donnie smiled…a bit too sweetly. Leo crossed his arms, squinting suspiciously at his older brothers. “Join in on the fun?” The slider repeated. “Oh, but of course! The fun I’m personally thinking of starts with an r and ends with ‘evenge’. Isn’t that right, Raph?” Donnie grinned as Raph nodded his head.

Mikey gulped, “Wehell…Ihi just remembered I have to goho feed my pehet rock…so, uh…if you’ll excuse me I’ll just be on my way…” Mikey giggly said, nervously walking backwards to the opening door to the lab. Mikey attempted to open the lab door again and again but it just wasn’t budging. He turned around, trying to turn the knob but it wasn’t moving an inch. 

“The lab door is locked my dearest Angelo.” Donnie chuckled as he saw the youngest trying to pry the door open- an evil smile plastered on his face as he leaned against Raph’s side, crossing his arms. 

Well shit.

“You get Mikey, I’ll get Leo.” Raph instructed, walking towards Leo as Donnie walked towards Mikey, both of the older siblings wiggling they’re fingers slightly with huge evil grins on they’re faces. The two youngest looked at each other completely petrified, stepping away from the door and splitting up, going deeper into Donnie’s lab but making sure to keep they’re eyes on they’re “attackers.”

“Wahait! W-We cahan talk abohout thihis!” Leo giggled, putting his hands up as a way to try and stop Raph from…whatever him and Donnie were planning. Well- he did know what they were planning which is why he’s TRYING his very best not to think about it too much…

Now, don’t get Leo wrong, he can be a menace. He’s been called it many many times by different people, which he takes a LOT of pride in. And he can become even MORE a menace when he’s tickling one of his brothers. To funny remarks to rib-counting to teases. Leo was one scary of a Ler and that was just something you just couldn’t deny. 

But sadly, the universe wouldn’t allow Leo to be the only scary Ler in the family. The universe had to give him not 1 but 2 older siblings that were terrifying as FU- fudge when it came to tickling.

When it came to Raph and Donnie, they were just…vile. Finding every single possible way to tickle and fluster they’re Lee until they can’t even think straight. 

Since Raph was, like, a TITAN in turtle form, it’s completely impossible to escape him while he’s wrecking you. And since he’s the eldest he will just go on and on and ON about how he was “The best Tickle Monster.” And that stupid thing he would always do was give “Raph-berries.” Basically raspberries but he’s nibbling you as well and it was TORTUROUS. 

Now Donnie was an evil force to be reckoned with. For one, he would cheat. The softshell would use his spider arms to ping your arms up so you couldn’t squirm. And worst of all he would pretend as if him wrecking you was a whole big science experiment. Testing out his “hypothesis” or whatever other big words Donnie knew. 

So getting that out of the way, Leo knows he’s absolutely dead. Deceased. Expired. 6 feet under…

The red eared slider just knows he’s completely screwed. Based on the facial expressions, body language and overall demeanor of his older brothers, the two were out for revenge. And Leo and Mikey being more sensitive than them, (Leo being a tad bit more ticklish than Mikey), they knew they couldn’t stand a chance. All the two were doing was wiggling their fingers and Leo and Mikey were giggly messes…

“Talk about what, little brother? Talk about how you scared the living heck outta me with all those posters of Mrs. Cuddles that you put all over my room?” Raph taunted, stepping closer and closer to Leo making the younger giggle more frantically.

 “I-Ihit wahas funny though!” The younger one stammered, “Actually, now that you mention it…SHE’S RIGHT THERE, LOOK!” Leo screamed, pulling out a completely terrified look out of nowhere pointing somewhere ahead of him, pretending where he was pointing was Mrs. Cuddles.

Hey, he’s not called the Face-man for nothing! 

“Wait- WHAT? WHERE?!” Raph screamed, frantically looking around Donnie’s lab to try and spot Mrs. Cuddles. But the only thing he saw was a certain red eared slider running away from him.

Well played…

That little shit.

Before Leo could attempt to try to hide somewhere in the lab, Raph came from behind him, picking the younger up and putting him on his shoulder, carrying him to the middle of the lab where Donnie and Mikey were. Donnie already “captured” Mikey, using his spider arms to hold his arms so he couldn’t try and run away again. 

Leo started to hit the back of Raph’s shell, squirming to try and get out of the older’s hold as a bunch of giggly threats flooded out of his mouth. The snapper only rolled his eyes, poking Leo in the side causing the him to let out a surprised shriek followed by frantic laughs. “Don’t forget the position you're in, bud.”

“Yohou guhuys! Plehease dohon’t- noHO Deehee!” Mikey squealed as Donnie released him from his tech arms, sitting down on the carpet floor and pulling him into his lap as Raph did the same thing with Leo, sitting a little bit across from Donnie. Before the young genius could pin Mikey’s hands up- as he originally planned on doing, the youngest retracted into his shell, giggling smugly as Donnie tried to get him out by knocking on his shell repeatedly. 

“Hey! You can’t do that!” Donnie said, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. “Toohoo bad. I juhust did.” Mikey taunted, happy he found a way to escape Donnie’s tickly wrath.

Leo, about to go into his shell too was immediately caught by Raph. The older held up his arms, grinning and raising a brow. “Where do you think you’re going, Lee?” Raph asked, chuckling as Leo plastered a nervous smile on his face. 

“Nohowhere…” The red eared slider giggled, looking around anywhere but Raph’s face before looking towards his younger brother who was soon about to break by the demon you would call Donatello.

“DeEHEE! NahAt the tUHuhUmmY!” Mikey squealed, squirming in his shell trying to get away from Donnie’s tickly fingers that were now dancing across his stomach. The older shook his head, grinning at the sound of the youngers frantic laughter.

“Then get out of your shell and fight like a real man!” Donnie taunted, which only caused Mikey to whine throughout his giggles but not coming out of his shell. Suddenly, Donnie stopped tickling his tummy, poking at the boxer turtle’s lower rib. “Boop.”

The younger's reaction was almost immediate as he came out of his shell completely to grab at Donnie’s wrists. “There we go~! See! Was that so hard?” Donnie smiled innocently, using his spider arms to pin Mikey’s arms up. Donnie just smiled at Mikey as Raph let go of Leo to begin tickling his sides.

“Pfft- nohohoho!” Leo giggled, hugging his middles and squirming a bit as Raph lightly scratched around his sides. The older one laughed in amusement, raising a brow and grinning at his reaction. “No? No, what? You two brought this upon yourselves!”

“Oho screw ohohoff!” Leo retorted, pushing at Raph’s wrists as Donnie just continued to look at the youngest, not doing anything quite yet. 

“Whahat?” Mikey asked, looking at his older brother who’s face looked like he was solving the worlds hardest math problem- but the genius probably did stuff like that for fun anyway.

“Hm? Oh…nothing. Just trying to remember where you’re most ticklish, Angelo…I can’t quite seem to remember…” The softshell muttered, crossing his arms and looking up intensely at his midnight purple ceiling.

“Wha-?! Whahat ahare yohou tahahalking about??? Yohou know my worst spot!” Mikey giggled, rolling his eyes at his brother who only shook his head. “My apologies, Mikey. I sadly do not. But…perhaps you could possibly tell me?” Donnie smiled, a smile which only caused Mikey’s face to go a bright red. “I aham nohot telling! Yohou already know!” 

Donnie laughed at the younger one’s answer, starting to trace his fingers along the place where Mikey’s shell met his neck- a known melt spot spot for the youngest. Mikey giggled slightly at the sensation, squirming a bit under Donnie’s hold. 

"Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Donnie asks, not stopping his tracing, looking down at his younger brother’s face that indeed looked like a tomato- which is really weird because he hasn’t even tickled him for that long!

“Noho! I’m not! Juhuhust lemme gohoho!” Mikey squealed, kicking his legs trying oh so desperately to get off his older brother’s lap. “No? You're lying to me, aren't you?" Donnie chuckles, still not stopping as he continued to trace Mikey’s melt spot. 

“I bet you're super ticklish. I just need to find the right spots! Just tell me where, and I'll be sure to avoid it like the plague." He pauses, giving the younger a chance to tell him where he was ticklish (because Donnie obviously didn’t know!). His voice was low and teasing now, a playful, taunting inflection in his words. "Or should I just start tickling you until I find out myself?"

Mikey just giggled, shaking his head and stomping his feet on the ground- determined to try and escape while he still could. “That's a yes, then?" Donnie chuckles, smiling a little to himself. "Alright, I'm going to take your lack of response as permission to tickle you." The softshell merely said as he now started to tickle the younger’s exposed underarms.

“HeHEY!” The boxer turtle shrieked, trying his best to squirm away from his older brother. “ThaHAT TIHIckles yohoU BiHIHiG jeHerk!” Mikey cried, regretting his words as soon as they came out. 

“Does it?" Donnie chuckles in fake surprise, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, his hands being gentle- not getting to his worst spots…not yet at least. “You really shouldn’t have said that, Mike~!” He remarks, smiling as the younger one only laughed more at the tease. The second oldest soon began to pick up the pace of his tickly fingers, laughing as Mikey tried to hide his face in his elbow- not being able to hide them in his hands since his arms were pinned up.

“What are you squirming around for, hm?” I vividly remember you saying you weren’t ticklish anywhere else…” Donnie stated matter-of-factly. “IHI LIhihiED, AhaLRIGHT? Ihi lihihIED- dOHOn PLEHease! QuiHIT IHIT!” The younger admitted, his laugh muffled from hiding his face away in his arms.

“Do you hear that, Raph? This little shit lied to me! Can you believe that?!” Donnie cried dramatically before lightly scratching his fingers at the sides of Mikey’s neck- making the younger let out a high-pitched squeal; not hiding in his arm anymore as he threw his head back in full blown laughter. 

“I wouldn’t be lying to Donnie if I were in your position, Mike. Just saying.” Raph said casually as if there wasn’t a red eared slider in his lap, laughing his shell off and squirming like he’s being electrocuted. 

“And you. Stop squirming so much! Your making it hard to get your good spots!” Raph playfully scolded down at Leo, tickling at the younger’s ribs, chuckling as Leo grabbed his wrists and uselessly tried to pull them away. 

“Ihi’m gOHOnna gEhet yohOU guhuys baHAHAck soho bahahad yoHOu’ll wiHIsh yohOU neHEver knew meehee!” Leo threatened, lightly punching the air in hopes to hit Raph. Which- none of them did. But hey, A for effort, right?

“Oho I bet you are.” Raph laughed sarcastically as he began to tickle Leo’s stomach. “Someone has a ticklish tum-tum, I see~?” Raph teased as Leo’s face began to go almost as red as the oldest’s bandanna. “DOOHOO *snort* naHAT CAHaLL IhiT THAHAT!” Leo squealed, kicking his legs and throwing his head back in hysterics. 

“RAHAHPHIEEEE! PLEHEASE! STAHAP IHIT!” Leo cried, still trying to grab at Raph’s hands as they were lightly pushed out of the way each time he tried. Raph smirked as the younger pleaded, only making Raph tickle his stomach more lightly- almost feather-like. 

“I will stop as soon as you and Mikey apologize!” Raph smiled. “Agreed. As soon as you two apologize, we’ll stop reminding you two just how ticklish you are.” Donnie exclaimed as he began to knead Mikey’s thighs. The box turtle shrieked, kicking his legs in hopes that the kicking will make it harder for Donnie to tickle him there. 

“NAHAHA! DEEHEE! NAHAT *squeak* THEHEHERE!” Mikey squealed, still kicking his legs but Donnie’s hands stayed firm as he began to knead harder. “IHIT TIHIHICKLES! DAHANNIE *squeak* PLEHEASE *squeak* STAHAP!”

“Hm? What? What’s so funny Angelo?” Donnie asked, looking back at his younger brother who- by the way- looked like a full on turtle tomato. “WEEHEE’RE SORRY!” Mikey cackled. Donnie nodded his head, looking at Raph but not stopping tickling Mikey. 

“Hey, did Leo apologize yet?” Donnie asked. “Nope! Which I think is a bit rude considering your situation don’t you think, Leo?” Raph asked, stopping tickling Leo to let him breathe as Donnie did the same with Mikey. 

“Yohou are thehe woHORST older brohohother eveher…” Leo giggled at Raph, knowing he was absolute dead meat after that comment but couldn’t help himself. Mikey made a teasing ‘ooooh~!’ sound, giggling at Leo’s comment to they’re eldest brother. 

“Personally, I wohohould nohot tahake that amount of disrespect…” Mikey giggled as Raph only sighed, shaking his head before smirking. Raph flipped Leo around so that his shell was facing the ceiling- and as he did so Leo felt as if his soul left his entire body. 

Leo and his big mouth…

“AHAHA! NOHO! NOHO WAHAIT *snort* A SEHEHECOND!” Leo panicky giggled, kicking his legs and lightly punching on Raph’s thighs. “Waitwaitwaitwait- lehet’s tahalk- RahaHAHAPH! RAHAHAPH WAHAHAIT!” Leo giggly panicked, his laughter increasing as Raph slowly lowered his head to the back Leo’s knees, ALMOST touching it with his face. 

“What? Wait for what?” Raph grinned, waiting for Leo to reply but the only response he got from the slider was snorting cackles. Raph took a deep breath before blowing a raspberry on the back of Leo’s knees, causing the younger turtle to go absolutely mad in laughter. Leo covered his face with his hands, muffled cackles bouncing around the walls along with Mikey’s squeaky cackles as Donnie gave raspberries to Mikey’s stomach. 

“Jeeheez…you guys are really ticklish, huh~? I wonder how long they could last…what do you think, Don?” Raph asked before going back to blowing raspberries on the slider’s knees, not showing him any mercy now. 

“I estimate about 3 more minutes or so…but it doesn’t really matter because I don’t plan on stopping until I hear an apology from Leo~!” Donnie tauntingly sang, laughing as Leo and Mikey’s laughs became more louder after that. “Besides, these two had what was coming to them for a while.” 

Mikey absolutely paled at Donnie’s tease. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t fair one bit! He already apologized! He surrendered!But because of Leo’s stupid comment and the denial that’s he’s the most ticklish out of all 4 of them, they’ll probably be here for an hour! 

“LEEHEEO! LEEHEEON *squeak* PLEHEHEASE! JUHUHUST AHAPOHOL- *squeak*” Mikey cackled as Donnie began to blow raspberries on Mikey’s ribs now, scribbling his fingers along his sides too.

“So? What’s it gonna be, Leo? Have you had enough?” The eldest asked as Leo only glared at him through his laughter, throwing his head back again. Leo shook his head, banging his fists on the carpet. The poor slider was trying to act high and mighty but was still squirming like a fish out of water trying to get back into the ocean…

Or, in this case, trying not to get tickled to pieces.

“Stop squirming, Leo. You aren’t going anywhere. I could do this allllll day.” Raph teased as he blew another raspberry on Leo’s stomach. “Well, scientifically speaking, you can.” Donnie said, stopping giving Mikey raspberries but still tickling his stomach with both hands. 

“I was doing some research for um…scientific purposes and I figured out that alligator snapping turtles and softshell turtles can hold they’re breaths for an hour. So, as long as we take certain breaths now and again we could blow raspberries on Leo and Mikey’s ticklish tummies for as long as we-“

“WEEHEE GEHET IHIT!!!” The two youngest screamed, not wanting to hear anymore of Donnie’s “scientific discoveries” about how him and Raph were the most devious ticklish monsters on the planet.

Donnie and his dumb-dumb research.

“Huh…you don’t say…” Raph smiled, trying to test Donnie’s theory about the whole “not needing to breath thing for an hour” thing. He blew probably like the millionth raspberry on Leo’s stomach. 

 And…Donnie was right! Not that he had one single doubt on his immediate younger brother’s genius of course! It just sounded too good to be true! He will definitely be using this tactic on Leo and Mikey in the future…and maybe April too! He’s definitely not scared of the aftermath of when he does that to her… 

Raph smiled, not being taking a single breath as he continued to give a raspberry to the back of one of Leo’s knees. Raph was enjoying this new skill he could do very well! Leo on the other hand…was going absolutely ballistic.

“NAHAO, *snort* AHANYWHERE *snort* EHELSE! NAHAT *snort* THEHE KNEEHEEHEES!” Leo screamed, punching Raph’s thighs lightly again. “Awh~? Why not~? Is this a bad spot, Lee?” Raph teased into Leo’s knees, finding this whole situation quite amusing indeed. 

“OHOMIGAHAHA-!!! YEHES! IHIT’S *snort* SOHO FREEHEEAKING BAHAHAD!” Leo cackled, not knowing what to do but just laugh and kick his legs. He was absolutely defenseless! There was nothing more he could do but just take it! “So…it tickles? Would you say this tickles too~?” Raph asked as he began to nibble at the back of Leo’s knees along with giving raspberries at the same time. Or, “Raph-berries” if you  will. 

“RAHAHAPH! NAHAH- *snort* IHI HAHATE YOHOHAHAH!” Leo snorted, his hands starting to flap against the carpet floor, making light thumping noises. 

Raph laughed, a smile still plastered on his face- but instead of that eat shit-and-die” expression he had on earlier, this smile was way more fond. 

Fun fact: Anytime Leo was tickled by his siblings, he younger would start happy stimming with his hands. His siblings think it’s the most adorable thing ever- much to Leo’s disagreement.

And it was so funny because he couldn’t even deny that he hated being tickled (even though he did anyway)! The evidence was right there!

“You didn’t answer my question, little bro! Does it tickle?” Raph pressed on, eager to get an answer out of his younger brother. “ *YEHES! MY GAHAHAD! OHOBVIOUSLY!” Leo screamed, still trying to kick Raph off of him.

“Just making sure!” The oldest smiled sweetly, still not stopping his new ability on  the second youngest’s knees. Leo whined throughout his cackles, covering his face once more. “Don’t be like that, little bud! You know you love it!” Raph teased. 

“NAHAO *snort* THE HEHEHELL IHI *snort* DOHOHON’T!” Leo screamed, happy stimming with his hands again.

“Your body language says otherwise, bud.” Raph teased back. 

Back with the PB&J Duo, Donnie an idea sparked in the genius’ head. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at Mikey- causing the youngest to gulp in nervousness. He knew what his older brother was planning…

“Dohonatello- Dohon’t yohou dahahare…” Mikey warned, glaring at Donnie as a warning. But that so-called warning only made Donnie laugh. “Oh I dare. Oh I so, so dare, Angelo.” Donnie taunted before blowing raspberries on Mikey’s plastron where his ribs would be. 

The younger let out a glass shattering squeal, causing Donnie and everyone in the lab to flinch a bit. But like Leo- Mikey can’t really do anything but just laugh at this point. 

“PLEHEHEHEASE! DAHAN- *squeak*! STAHAP!” Mikey cackled, kicking Donnie in the side with his knees which only caused Donnie to chuckle. “I think our little brothers have mutated into a pig and mouse.” Raph laughed, both him and Donnie laughing at the comment- because they couldn’t really deny that fact that. 

“OKAHAY! OKAHAY!” Leo screamed, his hands flapping on Raph’s thighs repeatedly. The older chuckled at the gesture, fighting every ounce of him not to take a picture with Donnie’s phone right now at the younger’s adorableness. “Okay, what Lee~?”

“IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY!!” Leo snorted, his hands still flapping happily and Raph couldn’t help but laugh fondly at it. “Should we let them go, Raphie?” Donnie asked, still nibbling at Mikey’s plastron but eyes on Raph, waiting for his answer. 

“Yeheah, we should. We don’t want to accidentally kill them...” Raph said to his immediate younger brother, chuckling at his own joke. The two oldest stopped tickling the two youngest, letting the two just relax in they’re laps; trying to catch they’re breaths.

“Oho my gohod….” Leo breathed out, turning to his side so he could see both Donnie and Mikey. Raph laughed as he rubbed the younger one’s head; trying to soothe him. The younger teen squirmed, holding Raph’s wrist as the older laughed some more. “I’m not gonna tickle you, bud.” He said, continuing to rub Leo’s head as the red eared slider stopped holding his wrists, excepting the gesture. 

“Thahat was fuhun!” Mikey giggled with Leo, sitting up and leaning on Donnie’s plastron- now being able to use all of his limbs. The softshell then used his spider arms to give the pranking duo two glasses of water- which the two happily accepted. 

“Speak fohor yourself…” Leo giggly grumbled, putting the finished glass of water to the side after drinking it and leaning on Raph’s plastron. 

“So! I guess now you two know not to mess with your older brothers, right?” Donnie asked, wrapping Mikey in a hug before lightly squeezing his sides, causing the younger to let out a screech. “YeHES! We learned our lesson, okahay?! Jeeheez! Couldn’t you have warned us in text or something?” Mikey whined, pushing at Donnie’s face lightly.

“Nah. This was way more fun.” Raph and Donnie both said, smiling as the two youngest groaned fondly at they’re answer to Mikey’s question. 

——————————————————————

This fic has been a WIP for a LONG ASS TIME so I decided to finish as soon as my stupid exams ended and post it lol-

But srsly- I love this HC for Raph and Donnie sm it’s so evil <3 I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :D

(Also sorry if the phrasing and/or pacing is weird- this is my first time writing with two lees and two lers- I dunno what I’m doing 😭💀😂)

P.S. Since Summer just started for me I will be able to work on more of my WIP’s so keep watch for ‘em :p

[pergaminaa]

I totally was one of those people who thought nothing of Dorian honestly he was just the local cute boy and I didn’t care much for him.

Until Empire of Storms and how my man was completely transformed because of a certain witch like the real man hiding popped up out of nowhere because my girl Manon really made him work for it and he met every challenge and then some

[spyret-the-shitposter]

WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW WEATHER BOY

[yumeyumeappleo]

Can you put the Rise turtles in the 2k12 super ninjas get-up, I wanna see it!

i tried my best :,D

if you take like 10 step backs and squint it looks decent (i know, i checked)

i kinda subconsciously added like parts of their actual own outfits to this but i’m too lazy to try to go back and fix it

edit: I FIRGIT TO ADD DONNIES FUCKING CHOKER THING

oh and here’s just the line art because it looked better this way tbh

[little-shiny-sharpies]

Wishing a fun and spooky halloween to you and the dragons 😈🖤

Thank you very much!!! ‘Twas the funnest and spookiest hallow’s end ever enjoyed! 🕸️👻🖤🎃🖤👻🎃🕸️(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Audio from my favorite TikTok ever

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[thewispsings]

two people that matched each others freak | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x teammate!reader

summary: max verstappen and y/n l/n love to match each others freak.

liked by, carlossainz, maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 692,028 others!

yourusername: what an unfortunate series of events. first crash kinda nervous 🥰🥰@/carlossainz kill yourself for what you did to me.

view comments below!

user1: LMAO THE CASUAL SELFIE AFTER THAT BIG ASS CRASH ??

user2: carlos deserves way more then a 5 place penalty after that…

user3: no literally ??? y/n is literally BLEEDING !!

maxverstappen1: yeah @/carlossainz. KILL YOURSELF.

user4: you tell ‘em max 🗣️🗣️

user5: queens first crash and it’s not even her fault 😞😞

user6: queens first crash and she almost DIES

user7: carlos hate club reunite !!!

user8: oh let’s not…

user9: to quote y/n: “accidents happen. i know carlos didn’t get into his car with the intention of hurting me. there’s no hard feelings whatsoever.”

carlossainz: IM SO SORRY Y/N.

yourusername: i only take apologies in cash and gift cards xx.

maxverstappen: i only take apologies in cash.

carlossainz: why would i apologize to you?

maxverstappen1: because you almost killed my bestfriend.

carlossainz: do you accept venmo?

user8: max still calling y/n his bestfriend even tho they’ve been dating for two years now is so ??

user9: they were bestfriends for 6 years before that so..

charles_leclerc: give us a big scare there l/n 😬 happy you’re okay!

yourusername: thank you charles ❤️ but because you are carlos teammate, i feel like i am also owed compensation from you as well.

maxverstappen1: yeah leclerc! pay up!!

charles_leclerc: text me the amount 😞

user10: i love how max just goes along with everything y/n says???

user11: we love a man who matches his gfs freak ❤️❤️

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz, redbullracing, and 720,629 others!

maxverstappen1: thank you to @/charles_leclerc and @/carlossainz for funding our date night 💙

view comments below!

user12: NO WAY

user13: CARLOS AND CHARLES ACTUALLY SENT THEM THE MONEY ???

user14: this is so cute 🥹

user15: yns so pretty 🙁

maxverstappen1: the prettiest 💙💙

user16: i just looked at my bf and sighed

charles_leclerc: ofc!! cute couple 🥰🥰

user17: charles definitely has a favorite couple

user18: y/n, my favorite nerd

user19: max, my favorite nerd lover

user20: perfect couple

user21: i have a theory that y/n and max are so happy together because they genuinely compliment each other so well

user21: they literally clicked as soon as they met, and they have said that “they feel at home” with each other, they can be their true selves when they’re together

user21: conclusion; i’m lonely and i wish i had a relationship like this

carlossainz: you’re welcome ig. am i forgiven now?

yourusername: we’ll see!

liked by 284,029 others!

f1gossip: throwback thursday!!! throwback to when max and y/n broke the internet, by announcing they were both no longer virgins..through cake.

view comments below!

user22: oh yes the good old days

user23: been matching each others freak since DAY ONE

user24: back when ynstappen was still not OFFICIALLY confirmed

user25: you should throwback to when max refused to resign with red bull until they gave y/n a multi-year contract ☺️☺️

user26: this was a CRAZY day for f1

user27: this connected the dots for all the ynstappen shippers because they basically confirmed they lost their virginity to EACHOTHER!!

user28: did we ever find out who’s idea this was?

user29: a couple months ago it was brought up and max spoke: “i know lots of people think it was yns idea..but it was actually mine. i guess i was just tired to hiding our relationship, so i brought it up, and y/n thought it was hilarious.”

user30: my parents ☝️☝️

user31: from teammates, to friends, to bestfriends, to lovers. living my dream.

user32: them.

user33: if they breakup i will genuinely never believe in love ever again.

user34: them becoming bestfriends was so unexpected, but made so much sense.

user35: if it weren’t for the ice cream shop they never would have happened ☹️

user36: pls explain?

user35: this is when y/n and max had just started the season as teammates, max hadnt performed his best at one of the races, coming in at 6th with y/n behind in 7th

user35: after the race, y/n had unexpectedly asked max to go get ice cream with her at a ice cream shop nearby

user35: max, feeling like he didn’t deserve to celebrate in anyway, declined. but y/n persisted, basically pulling him into that ice cream shop

user35: that’s when max said he truly had the time of his life, he felt happy, even though his race went horrible, he said that he has so much fun with yn and that he has never laughed so hard; the start of ynstappen ☹️

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, landonorris, and 729,624 others!

yourusername: siri, play nasty by tinahe.

view comments below!

maxverstappen1: listening to it right now!

maxverstappen1: oh wow

maxverstappen1: i like this liefde!! 💙💙

maxverstappen1: come to the room so we can listen together!!

yourusername: coming!! 💙💙

landonorris: you are aware you can text privately right?

user36: THE ICE CREAM SHOP PICTURE

user37: he looks so happy 😭😭😭😭

user38: sobs

user39: y/n healing maxs inner child is something i KNEW i needed.

user40: power couple !!!

danielricciardo: i been a nasty girl, i been a nasty girl

user41: i need someone to love me like max loves y/n

landonorris: whos gonna match my freak 😣

user58: ME I WILL PLS LANDO I WILL

user42: the first picture?? 😭😭

user43: omg the second picture. i’m going to throw up with joy. i love you guys.

user44: ynstappen ships used to PRAY for days like these.

liked by, yourusername, redbullracing, danielricciardo, and 829,924 others!

maxverstappen1: i’ll match her freak!!! i will !!!

view comments below!

user45: yes max, we know

user46: i just looked at my boyfriend and sighed

user47: the shirt???

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo thank you for the shirt :D i love it 💙

user48: i’m totally ready for max to wear that shirt on race day…

yourusername: the perfect photographer 🥰

maxverstappen1: it’s easy when my muse is perfect ☺️☺️

user49: that SHOULD BE ME.

user50: con🥹gra🥹tula🥹tions

user51: no one will ever understand how much i love this couple

user52: we love a man who matches his gfs energy ❗️❗️❗️

user53: so happy for you guys! haha. ha. ha. so happy.

charles_leclerc: beautiful shirt mate!

user54: the way charles and max still don’t follow each other but this is charles every time max post:

user55: oh! such a cute shirt! haha, ha, i’m so lonely.

user56: max could do better

maxverstappen1: kill yourself you worthless piece of garbage

user57: y’all saying you miss mad max but he makes an appearance every time someone says something negative about y/n 😭

. . .

notes: took a small break to enjoy my summer break start!! but i’m back, request are open !!

[sttoru]

[ 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 ]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈��. the king of curses cannot fight off his primal urges and thus you suffer the consequences.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, angst (w/ comfort), p.orn with mostly plot. mäting press. choking. rough like.. condescendingly rough. objectification. toxic relationship? yes. small hint of creampiē. double cawks. reader gets called ‘slut, girl, woman’ wc: 3.9k

“look at that slutty cunt takin’ my cock. think i wanna try fitting both at once in that lil’ hole. keh,” sukuna grunts as he looks down at you from above. your legs are burning from being folded in half—matter of fact—your entire body is aching.

any normal person would call out their safeword in a situation like this. you’re overwhelmed to the point that your brain doesn’t know what to do. you’re experiencing euphoria, yet feel like your doom is right around the corner.

you’re playing with fire whenever you’re intimate with the king of curses.

it’s too addictive to stop. being his favorite concubine has given you enough motivation to push through any difficulties. any discomfort your body feels, is automatically discarded and replaced with drowning pleasure. it’s like sukuna has put a spell on you; one that’s unbreakable.

“fffnghh—my lord,” you gasp for air as one of his big hands wrap tightly around your throat. your airway is blocked, nearly crushed by sukuna’s immense force. you get a flashback to the last time he’s choked you, how sukuna nearly lost control of his own strength.

your eyes are watery as your insides follow each thrust. back and forth, in and out. it is a simple rhythm, but you cannot get enough. the harsh and sticky echoes of skin slapping against skin are nearly ear deafening. his heavy balls bounce against the plush flesh of your ass with every move, ready to unload everything they’ve stored.

“shut up,” sukuna spits, looking down at you like you’re but a mere insect. perhaps you were exactly that to him in the heat of the moment. his red eyes show that he’s losing himself. that cruel yet greedy look only intensifies with the second, “you only speak when y’re spoken to—or did y’ forget your damn place?”

you swallow your words and resort to simple moaning after you apologise, “i’m sorry, m’lord.” your blurry vision creates a trippy illusion, giving sukuna eight arms and eyes. not only are you seeing double, the feeling of ecstasy is twice as strong. you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside.

you can’t speak about it. you’re not allowed to open your mouth unless it’s to moan or breathe. perhaps even the latter is too much to ask. your fingers shake as they wrap around sukuna’s wrist. you try to tug at the hand that is wrapped around your throat, but your strength is gone.

your body is shaking violently with each thrust. you can’t keep up with anything that’s happening. you’re unable to process the feeling of sukuna’s second cock trying to prod its way into your cunt as well. you’re going to break — he’s going to break you.

you want to speak up and tell him you can’t take both in the same hole at once. it’s an impossible task; one can’t even fit that easily. he’s girthy and got an immense length, an inhuman one you’ve never seen before. you swear you can feel him in your tummy. the tip feeling like it's nestled right underneath your belly button.

sukuna scoffs as you tighten up around his lower cock. you’re weak; a weak human who he can’t seem to get out of his mind. he wants to exploit that obedience of yours today—to ruin you mentally and physically.

he can’t ignore those urges to ruin that what causes him weakness. he wishes to regain the power over himself again. that can only be done by consuming you, removing you from existence.

“i can’t fuckin’ stand you,” sukuna growls, his eyes darkening beyond imagination, “y’re always in the way.” you’re scared of the king of curses, which rarely happens. the last time you were afraid of his monstrous aura was during your first encounter in the woods. his manly hand squeezes your throat until you’re genuinely struggling to breathe.

there’s an unmistakable sense of danger boiling in your guts. this is the real nature of the curse named ryomen sukuna. the man above you, who’s drilling his cock into you while you’re suffering, is the real deal.

the true face of the man you thought you knew.

“i’m gonna get rid of you, y’hear? after this, y’re nothing,” sukuna pants, sweat droplets falling onto your cheeks from above. he looks like he’s internally fighting with himself. the expression on his face tells you enough. you want to reach a hand out towards his cheek and hold it.

he looks beautiful, even when he spews such serious threats at you. your cunt is burning and holding tightly onto his cock, even when you realise it may break you.

you’ve stayed for so long with him, even when you know you’ll one day die at his side or by his hands.

locks of his pink hair stick to his forehead. sweat rolls down those black tattoos. all four red eyes are burning with a carnal desire to claim you as his property—to destroy you like his property. as is his right. that’s the only way to satiate that overwhelming feeling inside of sukuna.

whenever you’re around him, he finds himself drawn by your presence. he wants you to stay by his side all day, and if you aren’t, it’s like gravity is pulling him towards you. sukuna despises it—he craves to possess you, yet also get rid of your entire being. that way he can return to his normal self. the monster he's known as.

“i’ll throw ya away—gonna get a new toy to spend more time with,” the king of curses digs his nails into the back of your knees. the tip of his upper cock glides back and forth over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until it’s burning. you’re losing yourself in both pleasure and pain.

the hurtful words don’t seem to affect you. you still look up at him like he’s your everything—like he’s the reason you exist. sukuna turns furious the moment he notices that his threats don’t seem to work. you’re impossible and he hates that which he cannot control.

he cuts off any air that may enter your lungs. your eyes widen and your fingers tug at his wrist so he’d let loose, but alas. you’re going to lose consciousness without a doubt. tears stream down your cheeks, though not because of the hopelessness you’re feeling.

“i do not need you anymore,” sukuna says gruffly, trying to convince himself of that statement as well. he never needed anyone else during his entire lifetime, so why would he need you? he can replace you with any another woman.

your body goes limp. sukuna’s voice is muffled as you enter a state of half consciousness. you’re at the bridge between life and death. your eyes catch a glimpse of the faint struggle in his eyes.

he looks like a monster through and through, visibly acting like one too. though you’re able to catch a glimpse of an underlying vulnerability. that part of him that always shows itself when you two are alone—making you feel special because you’re the only one allowed to witness it.

you crack a faint, weak smile. even if you perish right then and there, it’s going to be at the hands of the man you’ve learnt to love. the sorcerer who’s made you feel on top of the world, without him realising it. you’ll forever be thankful for the moments you’ve spent together.

you’ll never forget the times where sukuna has made you feel safe in those same arms that will now be your death.

a tear slides down your temple. you look sukuna in the eyes while you’re seconds away from meeting your end. you show no signs of struggle as he gives you your final command;

“die.”

you close your eyes. your fingers loosen their grip around sukuna’s wrist before you let your hand fall at your side. you’ve accepted your fate with a weary smile, honored to have sukuna be the last thing you see, “understood, my lord.”

you’ve lost feeling in all limbs and your eyelids droop. all you can do is await for death to come collect your soul. it’s dark and you can’t hear a thing anymore. you’re confused when the burning sensation in your lungs returns.

your eyes fly open the moment some oxygen is able to reach your airway again. the harsh fingers around your neck have disappeared, though not without leaving aching marks. you clutch your chest as it hurts to breathe after not being able to for the longest time.

you gasp and cough uncontrollably. you wince and blink the tears away from your eyes, refocusing your vision on the large stature detaching from your side. you’re bewildered to say the least—not realising the reason behind sukuna’s sudden change of heart. he’s sworn to get rid of you, didn’t he?

he told you to die and yet he let you live.

“fuck,” the king of curses groans after he snapped out of the dangerous state he was in. he’s panting snd staring at the hand that was once wrapped around your throat. he’s not looking at you at all.

you feel him pull out which makes you hiss. you sit up, the adrenaline helping your tired body move itself. sukuna is silent, with no emotions apparent on his face. however one thing you can conclude for sure is that he’s caught off guard by his own actions.

he can’t get it out of his head. the vision of you laying beneath him, accepting your doom as told. even on the brink of death, you oblige. you accept his every word. why? sukuna’s head is filled with unanswered questions.

you’re an enigma that he cannot solve.

“out of the way, girl,” sukuna easily shoves you to the side with one hand. he’s still not looking you in the eyes. he refuses to look in the eyes of the one woman whom he tried to kill. the sole woman who seems to accept him for who he is.

you’re the only one who’s able to understand him and yet he tried to get rid of you. perhaps he’s afraid of being understood and accepted. sukuna is fine on his own—there’s no need for anyone by his side.

you manage to get your breathing under control after a couple seconds. you’re still hyperventilating, but it’s getting better. your body shakes as you cover yourself with the sheets, your hair messily covering your vision. you reach a hand out to sukuna, curious about what’s gotten into him, “i’m, ngh- are you okay, m—”

“i said, get out,” the man raises his voice before harshly grabbing your wrist. sukuna pushes you towards the exit of his chambers. you stumble forward and manage to catch yourself by grabbing onto the nearest wall. everything is happening so fast.

you simply nod and grab your robes from the floor. you hurriedly cover yourself before stepping out of the room. you fall to your knees not two steps away into the hallway. your hand flies up to your neck, touching it as if making sure that you’re still alive.

you can’t believe sukuna spared you. if he changed his mind one second later than he originally had, you’d be a lost cause.

tears well up in your eyes as the gravity of the situation settles in. you may have accepted your fate in the heat of the moment, but now that it’s over, you’re left trembling on your own. you can’t shake off that intense look in sukuna’s eyes as he pounded you into the mattress.

he was hungry for your soul. to consume you and not leave any of your bones—to get rid of you so you’re out of his sight and mind.

you sniffle and can’t bring yourself to stand up. you’ve lost strength in your legs because the adrenaline levels in your body have dropped. you slowly crawl over the floor and hope that no one catches you in a pitiful state like this.

you manage to get a couple metres away, though soon find yourself staring at a pair of socks that come into view. you lift your head and the owner of the tabi eventually appears in sight.

“uraume,” your voice is hoarse. you make eye contact with sukuna’s personal chef as they stand before you, their expression unreadable.

the sigh they let out tells you that they’ve expected such an outcome since long ago. without a word, they reach a hand out and help you up.

. . .

it’s been a week since then. uraume has helped you recover from that unfortunate experience. the other concubines didn’t dare talk to you. they’ve noticed the change in sukuna’s behavior after that night he spent with you.

he’s gone on more rampages than he usually does. he’s been killing innocent servants who walked past him while on duty, and visiting nearby villages only to commit mass destruction. his emotions are uncontrollable at this point and no one has a clue on what to do.

the best option is to stay out of sukuna’s sight. and not to mess with you, just in case.

you’ve personally tried to approach him a couple times, but either chicken out or get totally ignored. you really want to talk it out, though it may seem impossible. you’ve evaded death once, you’re not sure if you can do that twice.

you’re currently sitting on a bench in the courtyard as uraume is applying an ointment to your throat. your neck still hurts with every move you make. the strength of sukuna’s hand is not to be underestimated, you know that.

you flinch as they rub the cold liquid over your achy skin. it helps numbing the pain, which is god sent for when you want to sleep. you can easily rest without having to suffer the unbearable discomfort in your neck muscles.

it’s a bit quiet in the garden. it isn’t unusual for uraume to be silent, but you’re aching to talk about what’s bothering you. of course, the oh-so-important subject includes no one other than the king of curses.

you sigh and start rambling about your failed attempts to reconcile your relationship with sukuna. you’re getting frustrated and sad at the situation. you want nothing more than to go back to how things were—with you receiving special treatment.

you miss his voice, his touches, his hair, his skin, his muscles, his eyes, his hugs. . . it’s all too much to bear with. you want the sukuna you know back. you don’t care if he tried to get rid of you. you’ve long understood that it was his primal, unspoken urges that had taken over his brain.

“i don’t know.. he doesn’t want to talk to me nor see me,” you shrug and pout. uraume nods and tilts your chin back gently to get the ointment in every little cranny. you stare up at the bright blue sky, the gentle breeze being comforting, both mentally and physically.

your ears pick up on footsteps behind you. heavy footsteps which you recognise as sukuna’s. you whip your head to the side, perhaps a bit too fast, causing the pain in your neck muscles to return. you hear uraume sigh as they see their hard work go to waste in under a split second.

your eyes are focused on sukuna’s large stature filling out the layout of the garden. uraume politely bows at their master after taking a few steps away from you. they don’t lift their head as sukuna walks past you both.

he doesn’t spare you a glance. it’s like you’re not there at all. you frown and pout, though know better than to make a fool out of yourself and speak up. you watch the man walk into the main building of the estate, his sharp eyes focused on the path ahead, his hands resting inside the sleeves of his black kimono.

once sukuna disappears from your vision, you sigh and slump back against the bench. you look at uraume as they move close to you again, taking a glance at your neck. you huff and cock your head to the entrance of the building, “see! that’s what i mean!”

you’re clearly fed up. you just want to make up. you don’t care about the fact that he nearly killed you in that moment. you simply desire to feel that connection between the two of you again. a complicated relationship with its many ups and downs. it may be toxic, but you crave it.

uraume hums at your worries. they radiate a sense of peace that inevitably calms you down as well. they take a quick glance at the direction where sukuna was last seen. they’ve been serving him ever since decennia back—way before you became his concubine.

they’ve never seen him this conflicted, but they don’t tell you that. uraume looks back at you with a simple nod, trusting that you’ll be fine. if your life has been spared when sukuna was in such an indescribable irrational state of mind, then there’s nothing to worry about.

you’re the only one who’s ever escaped death by his hands. that is an incredible feat by itself.

uraume rubs the oil over your neck again, getting the last spots as they reassure you with one simple sentence; “i’m sure lord sukuna simply requires some time alone.”

. . .

you take uraume’s comment seriously. if sukuna needed time, you’ll give him as much space as possible. and thus it’s been another week ever since then.

it’s a sunday night and you can’t sleep. you get up from your futon and wrap a simple blanket around your body. you can’t be bothered to brush your hair or look proper. no one will be up during this ungodly hour anyway.

you sneak out of your chambers and walk down the long hallways. you slide the door to the courtyard open and step out onto the pavement after putting on your geta. it’s a chilly night with a full moon, perfect weather to take a breather.

you walk around the familiar scenery and crouch down near a patch of flowers. they’re your favorites. sukuna had personally ordered his servants to plant them in the garden after he found out you like them. the memory brings a fond smile to your face.

such small yet meaningful actions never fail to melt your heart. it’s another reason why you want to make up with sukuna. you want to help with whatever he’s struggling with, however you know that man will never accept the aid.

you wish to support him at the very least. you want to show your devotion to him, if that already wasn’t clear to him.

you sigh and stand up. you’re caught up in your own thoughts to realise that someone’s been watching you the entire time. you walk straight forward until you reach the koi pond. you stare at the fish as they float in the clear water.

you wish you could be as carefree as them. you turn around to walk back to your room after it’s getting a bit too cold. you did not expect to bump your head against a hard surface. “ow,” you rub your forehead and look up.

there he stands; the man you’ve been dying to see and speak to. sukuna stares down at you without uttering a word, his sharp eyes finally looking into yours.

“ry— my lord,” you stammer, switching to a more polite stance. you’re thrilled, but the excitement quickly dies down as you remember uraume’s words; he needs time. you don’t want to disturb him, as much as you want to jump into his arms. you bow your head at him, “have a good night.”

your heart hurts as you force yourself away from sukuna. you step away from him and look at the ground as you walk. simply seeing him from up close again has been enough for now. though, your body yearns for more.

a simple touch will suffice. . .

you’re surprised when you feel a tug at the blanket around your shoulders. you stumble back and nearly fall on your bum if it wasn’t for sukuna holding you up. you feel an arm sneak around your waist from behind, surprisingly gentle. much gentle than ever before.

sukuna lowers his head to whisper in your ear. he lets his wet tongue slide over the shell, nibbling at the skin as if reminding himself of your taste, “stay.”

it’s an order, that you can tell. you’re weak for him and thus you obey without a single sign of protest. you feel a sudden sharp sting on the side of your neck which makes you remember what caused it. sukuna seems to notice the same thing.

it’s been getting better, but you still randomly get tingles near your neck area when you move it around too much. you silently push through the pain, which only lasts about a few seconds.

sukuna doesn’t comment on it, but takes a mental note of the sight. he’s recalling that time when you’ve nearly died at his hands. his eyes darken at the memory. he’s been trying to process the fact that he’s lost control over himself. those dark urges had taken over his mind and body, nearly consuming him whole.

they’re still hidden inside him—the desires to possess you, crush you, consume and devour your heart, body and soul. they intensify when you’re with him. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.

sukuna still cannot comprehend why you. what does that feeling in his stomach mean whenever he’s with you? it’s irritating, because it confuses him. confusing things which he doesn’t hold the answer over, annoy the king of curses.

an urge to claim someone as his forever, going as far as to want to consume them, is a new feeling to sukuna. it’s an unhealthy obsession that’s started because of you.

is that what humans call love?

he’s thought about it. perhaps, that is the case. but it must be a different type of love—one that’s so overwhelming that it’s dangerous. for both parties involved.

sukuna sighs. thinking about emotions and feelings isn’t his forte—it never really was. it’s stupid and foolish. and yet sukuna feels like a true king whenever you’re with him. your devotion to him sends shivers down his spine in a good way.

it showed two weeks ago. he saw how you accepted your position; your death. it turns him on to see you so submissive and obedient. maybe that’s also a reason why he nearly lost his mind that day.

lust is a scary thing.

sukuna’s lips avoid your neck. he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, simply standing still against you from behind. the chilly breeze is long forgotten as his large stature protects you from the cold air. you don’t even need your blanket anymore.

you smile in content as you finally get what you want. you don’t even need an apology. hell—you don’t even need any words. this moment is more than enough to rebuild your relationship with the man behind you.

“y’re not going anywhere, yeah?” sukuna says in a low and possessive tone. it’s another command you follow without hesitation. he’s never going to tell you directly, but the lack of your presence has definitely been felt. now that he has you, his favorite concubine, he’s not going to lose you again. he won’t allow it.

you nod at sukuna’s words with a chuckle. you’re happy to be back in his warm embrace. you know that sukuna isn’t one to talk about his own inner turmoil, so you don’t push it.

those dark urges of his are to be discussed another day, if sukuna allows it. for now, this fleeting moment is more than enough. you reply to his order as you always do, to any command that leaves his lips;

“understood, my lord.”

[peachysunrize]

Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid… 

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,” 

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

[rebelscums]

Little Flower (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Fluff | Kissing | Light grinding | A pillow is thrown

Summary: You are the padawan to a masked man you had no name of. You have been by his side for years, training and mastering the arts of what he refers to as the dark side of the force. However, with Mae entering your life as his new favorite, you are beginning to question whether you belong there anymore. Something that you run to your closet fiend to talk about. Who knew confessing to Qimir about your trouble would bring a life changing moment.

“I’m not strong enough for him.” That was the first thing you said to Qirmir as you entered his shop. Borrowed shop? You didn’t care.

The defeat in your tone was enough to alert him of your dismay.

“That’s it. I’m officially useless to him. He doesn’t need me.” You blurted out all of your frustrations to the only person you have ever been able to call a friend, “All he cares about is his new acolyte Mae.”

You were both stationed here with Mae as she completed the next part of her trial which was to kill Master Torbin… Without a weapon.

“What makes you say that?” Qimir popped his head up from behind his counter.

“He’s been making me run these needless errands lately that literally anyone else in the galaxy can do.” You set a bag of powdered gold leaves onto the counter, “This took me an entire day to find and when I go back to the spot I left him, he was gone! Gone! Didn’t tell me where either.” You said frustratingly, “So I figured you might know what to do with this.”

Qimir took the bag and peered inside, a please look on his face as he hummed, “Actually I do. It’s the leaves I need to make a poison Mae requested.”

“Of course it is.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of her name.

Mae seemed to be taking the eyes of your master and Qimir lately. Something that made your eyes turn green with the overpowering feeling of jealousy… Of being abandoned.

“Look, I love Mae and she has become very dear to me, but… I was here first.” You felt like a child for saying that, “I know that sounds selfish, but it feels like he just tossed me aside for a better version.” You looked up at Qimir showing him the hurt and betrayal in your eyes before looking away to try and suppress your feelings, “And maybe… Maybe she is better than me… Maybe I should just take my loss and go.” You spoke in a near whisper, your throat tightening at the thought.

“No!” The way he quickly voiced his answer had you looking up at him waiting for him to continue, “You are strong with the force and an extremely skilled assassin.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to leave.”

You sighed and moved past him and the counter, “But what if he wants me to leave Qi? You don’t understand. It’s like he doesn’t even see me or the power I possess. All he ever says to me is that I’m not ready to become his acolyte and that I need to help Mae ascend yet…” You slumped into the cot that he called a bed with a huff, “I’m older than she is! I’ve been with him longer might I add. I’ve never questioned him, I’ve followed him loyally and this is what I am granted with? To be a baby sitter?”

“One useful skill may come out of that job.” He noted and you missed the blush in his face at whatever he was thinking about…

“And what might that be?” You muttered tiredly as you stared up at the ceiling contemplating your life and how you could just be better.

“You would make a good mother?” Qimir shrugged his shoulders as he tried to had the small smirk on his lips.

You launched one of the pillows on the bed the moment those words left his mouth. It was going straight for his head to which he surprisingly dodged with ease, but that didn’t stop the surprised look appear on his face as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Not funny.” You grumbled and crossed your arms, turning to face the wall with a pout.

“Okay okay. I’m sorry.” Qimir said as he walked over to where you were. When you didn’t turn to face him, he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside you. There was a thoughtful look on his face before he spoke again, “Maybe… Maybe he is looking out for you.”

That got your attention. You sat up, your shoulders brushing against his as you peered up at him with confusion, “What do you mean?”

A nervous blush creeped up his face as you leaned closer to him, “Well I mean… I…” He trailed off nervously, “I just mean that maybe you just might be more important to him than you realize. He could be looking after you to take on a more important role.”

“What’s more important than being his acolyte?” You huffed in confusion as you look towards your fiddling hands, “I remember what he said to me all those years ago when we first met. He promised he would make me a powerful force weirder and that I would stand by his side as his acolyte and now… Now I’m starting to question if he really meant it.”

Qimir’s hand found yours and gave it a comforting squeeze, “He meant it and… You are powerful. Just as you are brave and unlawfully kind.” He assured and it was your turn to blush.

It seemed like he always knew what to say to you in ways that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn, “Qi…” You breathed out as you glanced at his lips.

He was quick to copy your movements leaning in closer to you as he did so, “Maybe he sees too much good in you to turn you into something your not.” He whispered, his breath caressing your skin.

“You seem to know a lot about what he may think.” You whispered, suddenly lost in his darkening gaze, “Why is that?”

“What can I say? I’m good at reading people.” He smirked slightly as he looked down at your lips again, “I’m also extremely possessive over what I care about. Knowing him means knowing you.”

“Okay…” You hummed accepting his answer, “Alright then mister possessive, what am I thinking about right now?” You mused, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.

It was something the Qimir couldn’t get enough of. It was your playfulness towards him that was like a breath of fresh air against the darkness he was met with daily.

“I would say…” His speech was slow as he traced your face with his eyes, “That you really want to kiss me.” He teased lowly. There was a small grin on his face in knowing that he was right.

He was always right.

“Do I now?” You didn’t try to deny it as you leaned in closer to him, “And you? What do you want to do?”

A low noise emanated from his throat, almost like a pleading sound as his lips brushed against yours, “I want to kiss you...” He said in a way that made your heart yearn for him.

“Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me.” You breathed out, your heart racing wildly in excitement.

That was all he needed to hear as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed at the soft sensation in the way that he kissed you. It was delicate and gentle as if he was afraid to push you too far, but the way your arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer to you, was all he needed to know.

He felt like light between your fingertips as you ran your hands through his hair and he was gentle with his movements in guiding you back against the bed. “Beautiful…” He breathed out, fitting himself snugly between your legs.

“Qi…” You breathed his name against his lips, arching your back as he tugged your bottom lips between his teeth. He held himself back, letting go of your lip to really look at you. You couldn’t help but look at him with awe as he gazed at you with so much love and devotion shining in his eyes.

“You are just… Breathtaking.” He admired you with every part of his being, “Utterly breathtaking…” He seemed mesmerized as his right hand traced along your curves.

You blushed, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked away from him embarrassed by his loving words, “Who knew you were such a flatterer.”

He chuckled lowly as he leaned back down to kiss your lips. All too quickly he left and began leaving a trail of kisses down to your neck. You couldn’t help your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

“You deserve to be flattered.” He continued losing himself in everything that was you. He rocked himself against you as he held back the urge to devour you entirely. He wanted too so desperately now that he knew you were his, body, soul, and mind. He would never let you go, not now… Not until his last dying breath. “You deserve the galaxy, my little flower.” He muttered softly against your skin.

You have much to learn little flower.

You moaned lightly at the pleasure he filled you with almost kissing his last words, but you heard them. Your mind took a moment to register the deeper meaning behind his endearment, but when you did your eyes opened in realization. It was him. Qimir was him. No one knew about that little nickname except for…

“Master?” You whispered running your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, but your heart beat widely in your chest as he stopped kissing you.

“Hm…” He hummed a small smirk gracing his lips as he breathed against your neck, “You finally figured it out.”

You placed your right hand on his cheek and gentle lifted his head to face you, “He’s you?” You said in awe as you pieced together every moment up until now, “You’re him?”

“I am.” He searched your eyes for any fear or resistance, but his shoulders relaxed as he saw none.

“So… That is why you were never around when he— I mean when you were training me? Because you were already there.” Your brows furrowed, “Does Mae know?” A small pang filled your chest at the possibility of her knowing your masters identity before you.

He shook his head, “No.”

The pang quickly left, filling your chest with relief as you let out a small sigh, “So… That’s how you were so sure about how he was feeling because that’s what you truly felt…” A blush filled your cheeks at the kind words he said to you earlier.

However, you realized something else as well. He was the one who kept you from becoming his acolyte. You gasped as you smacked his chest causing him to groan and you would have cared for the old Qimir if you didn’t already know how strong he truly was as your master.

“Why won’t you make me your acolyte?” You huffed slightly embarrassed now that you know you spilled your guts to him, “This entire time I have told you how I felt. I am devoted only to you master so why will you not let me become your acolyte?”

“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” He chuckled shaking his head.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? That is why you train me, it is why you let me stay with you, is it not?”

Strands of his hair fell into his eyes from the way he shook his head. You couldn’t help, but reach up to brush them away, something that had his heart flutter and his lips curl up into a soft smile. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closed as he spoke softly, “I don’t want you to become my acolyte anymore because I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you.” His gaze darkened, “I would burn the galaxy before that ever happens.”

You smiled softly and brushed away the creases from his brow, “I know.”

“I want you to be mine.” He nuzzled his nose into your wrist before placing a gentle kiss upon in, “I want you to be my equal… Not as someone who does my bidding, not as my padawan or my acolyte, but someone who stands by me.”

“I want you my little flower because you are everything I wish the world to be.” He finished, a soft look in his eyes.

Love swelled up in your chest at the confession he conveyed so deeply to you. His love sealed your fate to him as you leaned up towards him. You brushed your lips against his, the both of you conveying your strong emotions to one another with the look of your eyes.

“You have my heart Qimir and I will stand by your side, always.” You agreed softly.

It was a promise that the two of you would keep without any doubt. He was yours and you were his until the end of time.