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myunconquerablesoul · 9 months

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His Favored.

r.sukuna x fem!reader

Warnings: historical au, mentions of violence (towards an OC, but never us. Not even Sukuna is allowed to abuse us!), mentions of blood, mentions of wanting to kill someone, mentions of someone hanging, nudity (reader is a concubine), it gets steamy in the end, but nothing too detailed. (I think) Sukuna is soft(?) in this one.

Wordcount: 3.445 (I would like to say I'm sorry, but I'm not)

Fanart

The servant lays in a bloody mess before you. He was not dead, but you were sure he wished he'd be by now.

Sukuna is staring directly at you. His attention was no longer on the poor soul.

His hands grip your cheeks, and the others hold your wrists.

"I told you," Sukuna says, voice low, "to not speak to that servant, or there would be consequences."

He lost his temper today. He has seen you talking to that lowlife, hidden in one of the many hallways in his estate. And as if that wasn't enough, that peasant tried to pull you into his embrace. Forcefully.

Looking back, it was a miracle for him to be still alive.

"Now, why would my concubine disobey my orders just like that?" It was simply inexcusable to him for anyone else to speak to you the way he did when it wasn't any secret that you were, clearly, the curse's favorite.

"The servant... he..." He saw your eyes drifting to the servant again. Nervous. You were in an inner battle with yourself. He had secretly planned to whisk you away from Sukuna's estate so you could have freedom and independence.

You'd felt his kindness and sincerity toward you in the short time you'd known him. You knew he meant well, but it was already too late.

Sukuna, on the other hand, felt that you were hesitating to tell him. Not only that, but you were trying to protect that poor excuse of a man.

It made him want to kill him right on the spot.

Then he abruptly let go of you and turned his attention back to the poor soul. You felt the shift in the atmosphere immediately. You knew that if you did not do anything right this instant, the man's head would be rolling around the floor within seconds.

You were trying to figure out what to do.

If you asked for it to stop, your master would get the wrong idea and kill the man without hesitation. You were sure of it.

"My lord," You had to try to defuse this situation. "may I ask for us to speak privately?" If not for the sake of the man on the floor, then for your sanity.

"I will tell you everything, but please... alone." Sukuna stopped in his tracks upon hearing your request.

If it were anyone else's request, no, others would not dare to. They only dare to speak to him when he addresses them. But you, you were always a particular case for Sukuna.

For a moment, you were met with nothing but silence. You feared that you had made everything worse and sealed the servant's faith.

But then, without warning, Sukuna turned back to you, grabbed you by your wrist, and led you out of the throne room.

You did not dare look back to see if the servant was alright. Knowing it would end in unwanted bloodshed.

"Uraume!"

You haven't even noticed Uraume standing there. But you weren't given the time to properly acknowledge them, as your shared master dragged you forward.

"Ensure that the filth's wounds are taken care of, and lock him in his room until I decide what will become of him!" He spat.

Sukuna leads you to his room.

It wasn't the first time you were here, but the first time you didn't know the outcome of what would happen.

The curse let go of you after sliding the Shoji shut. He leaves you standing in the middle of the room. Sukuna's dark eyes meet yours.

"Explain." He didn't yell.

For a moment, you believe you would've preferred if he did. It was a painful reminder of how patient he was with you. Of how much you could get away with.

"The servant wanted to take me away from here. I told him that I wanted to stay. But he kept pressuring me."

Sukuna leans against the wall, staring at you with a dangerous, hungry light in his eyes. The fact that you wanted to stay was good. He likes it when you're obedient.

"I never wanted to leave you, my lord." You got down on your knees and bowed until your forehead touched the ground. "Please, you have to believe me."

Sukuna looked at you for a long moment. He lets out a low growl, stepping up to you so that he towers over you. "Prove it, concubine."

"He wrote me letters. I can show you." You were still looking at the floor. You knew you had to be careful. If you say something wrong, misstep, or accidentally anger him more, the servant won't live to see the next day.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at that, curious. "Show me."

"They are in my chambers."

Sukuna steps back, ordering you to stand and lead the way to your room.

"Here."

Sukuna sat on your bed as he took the letters and unfolded them. But before skimming each word, he takes a good look at you.

You stood there with all your might. There's not a bit of fear in your eyes, just concern.

Ever since your village offered you as an addition to his harem, the curse felt that there was something about you. Sukuna felt a strong pull toward you, an attraction he had never felt for someone else.

"The servant, Yuto, told me a week ago that he fell in love with me and asked for my hand." You studied Sukuna momentarily, wondering if mentioning his name was wise.

Sukuna, however, didn't pay any mind to that. Instead, he tried his best to conceal his surprise.

He thought that you would try to protect the lowlife. Try to convince him to let him go, but you tell how things were - nothing but the truth - without concealing anything.

"I told him that I didn't feel the same way. But he wouldn't give up. I didn't want to cause too much attention towards this."

You didn't feel alarmed per se. It was just very out of character for the curse to react the way he currently was. He was too calm about all of this newfound information.

Sukuna chuckles at that. "Or were you too afraid?" tone mocking.

"I was afraid of what you would do to him." He raised a brow at that. So, you elaborated a bit more. "He does not deserve to die because he fell in love."

When he hears your words, his eyes darken again. Sukuna eyes you, and you can tell that his thoughts seem elsewhere.

"You're right." As you watch him, he gets up from your bed and approaches you to stand directly before you, towering over you.

"One does not deserve to die for simply falling in love, dear concubine."

Standing before you, you could now practically feel the bloodlust radiating from him.

"But trying to steal someone else's property, especially when said property belongs to me, the king of curses, is where every human with minimum survival instincts may draw the line." he spat, full of venom.

You averted your gaze from him. You knew he was right. You, too, could not understand where Yutu's boldness came from.

But then again, love does blind people.

"That bastard deserves to perish for even thinking he had a chance to get away with it." now that was more like the Sukuna, you know.

You felt smaller with every passing second, and you could no longer think of a way to save the servant's life.

When you looked down on one of your master's hands, you could see the letters in a tied grip. The papers were utterly wrinkled.

Not that it mattered.

"Or is it perhaps that my dearest concubine grew close to that poor excuse of a man and began to like the idea?"

Your eyes snapped to him in an instant. "I didn't grow close to him. I didn't even like him." you desperately needed him to believe you.

"If that were the case," Sukuna counters, "why did you keep these letters?"

You immediately began to shake your head. "I never let him believe he had a chance. I always told him that I belonged to you, my lord." The way Yuto kept insisting the past week made you uneasy; even remembering it made you feel uncomfortable.

Sukuna then gently stroked your hair - a silent apology after noticing your growing discomfort.

He didn't mean to talk to you in that tone, but the mere thought of you being possibly interested in someone other than him-

"I kept the letters because I wanted you to believe me when I told you."

The curse nods, seeming to accept what you're telling him. It pleased him that you were thinking about telling him. "Good girl." His fingers slip down to your chin, stroking it gently.

"I wanted to tell him to stop today, but then you saw us, and- you know the rest."

Sukuna nods, his fingers still caressing your chin. "Indeed... but I want us to go over our boundaries again, dear concubine. I should not have to remind you what happens when you speak to other men besides me."

"No, my lord." you felt the room lighten up again, and for a moment, everything seemed to return to normal. "You should not worry; I will never accept a man who claims to love me. I know my place." you tried to brighten up the mood. But then-

"And if I was the one who loved you?" he asks, tone turning dangerous. "What if I was the one who desired you? Would you have given me your hand?" Sukuna looked at you with his intense eyes again. Something hidden behind them, something you could not read, but your heart answered before your mind could comprehend what was happening.

"I would."

Sukuna considers you for a long moment, his gaze boring into yours.

"I know you to be loyal and obedient, and because of that, I am not as concerned... but I need you to make this promise regardless." Sukuna leans closer to you, his eyes dark and fierce. "If another man speaks to you, you will tell me. No secrets, no hiding that from me."

You nod at that, still not trusting your voice enough. The thought that the king of curses could be jealous and possessive of you made you smile a bit.

Sukuna smiles at you and strokes your cheek and hair. "Good girl, you look beautiful when you smile."

He still didn't know what to do with the servant, but he knew he had had enough of this useless conversation.

His tone shifts again, voice low. "Let us not dwell on this further. Shall we go to bed?"

"Whenever you please."

Sukuna laughs softly, his tone playful and flirtatious. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," he teases you as he pics you over his shoulders and takes you back to his chambers.

Of course, he could stay here and take you right then and there, but he wanted to spend the night in comfort with you.

"Here, let me help you out of these things."

"Yes, my lord."

Sukuna removes your dress, leaving you in a thin chemise. He moves behind you, his hands slipping to the laces of that piece of clothing, his breath warm on your skin.

It feels all too domestic to romantic. And somehow, you can't seem to shake something off your mind. You weren't sure what would become of the servant. But something about your conversation with your master seemed to be off.

"My lord, may I ask something?"

Sukuna hums. "Ask away, dear concubine."

How should you put it? This road you were taking could lead to death, but on the other hand, you needed to know. So you took a risk.

"You asked me if it were you who'd love me."

Sukuna momentarily stops what he's doing. "Yes, I remember..." a dangerous glint enters his dark eyes again for a moment, but it vanishes as quickly as it does. "Continue, dear concubine."

"I- if.. if it's not too bold of me to ask."

The last concubine who dared ended up hanging in the backyard as a reminder of your status - a reminder never to seek more. It would be best never to forget that your only purpose was to satisfy your master's needs.

"Speak. I'm listening," Sukuna tells you softly, hands returning to work on your laces. His eyes trail down the curve of your neck to your back, lingering momentarily.

He knew where this was going. Today was indeed a day full of surprises.

"Do you?" there it was. a silent question. He never thought that you would pull through.

Sukuna's fingers freeze on the remaining laces of your clothes, his hands stilling. "... Do I what?" he asks cautiously.

"Do you love me?" The curse didn't know what to say first. He could deny it and proceed as if nothing happened, but the way your voice calls to him like you were hoping for some miracle.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he finally replies to you. "...I do."

"You- you Do? But- you have so many beautiful concubines at your service. So many women who'd willingly offer themselves to you…" your voice lost confidence, turning smaller with every passing second.

"None compare to you," Sukuna promises, voice soft and genuine. "None have a hold on my mind like you, my dear concubine. I do not feel for them what I feel for you."

Sukunas's hands slip to your waist and work on your laces again. "Do you think you could come to love me as I have you?" he asks.

It takes you a moment to respond. Sukuna is uncharacteristically patient with you.

"When that servant first told me about his feelings for me, I told him that my heart already belonged to someone else." you reply breathlessly.

"And who, pray tell, would your heart belong to?" Sukuna murmurs, voice low. The laces are almost finished, the thin chemise the only thing separating you from Sukuna's touch.

"Can I be so bold?"

Sukuna hums, a low grin curving his lips. "Yes."

He pulls the last lace free, the garment falling at your feet. "Tell me, dear concubine, whose heart do I have?" he questions eagerly, turning you around and looking straight at your eyes.

"Mine."

Sukuna smiles at you, his eyes shining brightly. "You are truly a good girl," he exclaims, a voice full of affection. "But that answer proves what you knew all along, doesn't it?"

Sukuna begins to move against you, his hand now caressing your cheek, and he leans down towards you as if expecting you to kiss him. His dark eyes are locked on yours as if looking for your consent.

You give a slight nod.

Sukuna cups your face in both hands, his fingers gently pushing your hair out of the way. He moves slowly, not breaking eye contact until your noses and lips are all but touching. His breath is warm against your skin, your heart racing.

"Is this what you want, dear concubine?" he whispers, low and sultry, full of desire for you.

"Am I allowed to speak what I truly want?"

Sukuna chuckles in response, voice low and breathy. "You do know that I allow you to say whatever you'd like, don't you?" he questions you, still close to you that the two of you are almost kissing. "So, speak your mind, dear concubine."

"I- I want to be more than just a mere concubine to you, my lord."

Sukuna stares at you for a long moment, eyes heavy with consideration. "And what more would you like to be to me, dear concubine?" he whispers, looking down at you. "Do you wish to ascend past this place of yours... to be on equal footing with me?"

"I would never dare to ask such things."

"But, if I were to offer them to you, would you accept... dear concubine?" Sukuna's voice is low and husky.

There's promise there, hope, and a little bit of lust. You've been a good and loyal concubine, not one to ever ask for more than what you've been given, and he rewards loyalty.

"What if I allowed you to become my equal?" it all sounds too good to be true.

"Then- then I would be selfish and accept."

"There is nothing wrong with being a little bit selfish," Sukuna reminds you, his fingers running through your loose hair.

"You deserve this, my dear concubine. You have been loyal and obedient for as long as you've been here. You deserve to be treated as my equal."

Sukuna's eyes gleam, his gaze lingering on you in a way you hadn't known him to do before.

"You are more than just a servant," Sukuna says, voice low.

"I'm willing to give you a new title, my dear concubine..." he pauses, taking a deep breath before he continues.

His gaze is locked on yours, his eyes sparkling with love and lust. "I want to make you my wife."

"W- wife? As in- in your lady?"

"You will be my lady, yes," Sukuna tells you, voice huskier as he speaks. "My dear, loyal wife. And I will be yours. You will be queen alongside me."

"Your body belongs to me," he adds. "But in every other regard, you will be my equal. We will walk among the humans together, as their rulers, in love, in trust. And I will grant you anything you desire... no matter how dark."

"I- I don't know what to say."

"Then do not say anything," Sukuna tells you. He lifts your face towards him until your lips are almost touching. "Show me with your actions how you feel about this, dear concubine."

"Show me what you feel," he adds, voice low. His gaze is heavy with desire for you, and your heart pounds in your chest, heat rising to your cheeks at his words.

Sukuna is kissing you passionately, his hands tangled in your loose hair and pulling you closer. You can feel the force behind the kiss, the want and need from the curse, which sends your body into chaos. He moves a hand down, driving up your body with purpose. They continue moving upwards, over your ribs and chest, to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently before they caress you.

"I want this. Everything you're willing to give. I want to be selfish. I want you, please…"

Sukuna responds to your words by deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer to him. He's no longer in the mood for words, his hands sliding up your curves to your neck, pinning you to the wall.

He's gentle, despite the force of his kiss, and he makes sure he doesn't hurt you — but there's no denying he wants you, and you can feel the lust spilling from him as he pushes his body more and more onto yours.

Sukuna groans into the kiss. Your mouth is against his, your lips and his moving back and forth to satisfy this thirst between you two.

He breaks from the kiss and stares at you with soft eyes. His smile is heavy and filled with love, and he leans to press another kiss against your lips. "Then, from today on, dear concubine, you will be my wife."

"You are mine," Sukuna says to himself, too lost in this moment. "My wife, my love. No longer my concubine, my subject, but my equal."

He trails more kisses against you, those of love rather than lust. They are soft and gentle as if he's promising you only the best.

When the two of you are breathless, Sukuna carries you toward the bed. Your heart flutters within your chest as if you're in a dream come true. He lays you upon the bed, and his lips are again moving against yours, soft and gentle, full of love, as if he's worshipping.

He pulls back to look down at you, his eyes heavy. He is long gone. Body and mind filled with nothing but pure ecstasy. "Mine."

"Always yours, my lord." The curse's tone was possessive and full of devotion. It made you breathless to think that was all for you.

Sukuna's eyes locked with yours, his every movement designed to be as erotic as possible. His kiss is heavy, and how he moves against you is enough to force a moan from your lips. His fingers explore your body, moving lower slowly so that you are practically panting by the time he reaches his destination.

"Let me love you in every way possible."

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #fem!reader #jjk

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lexosaurus · 1 year

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Hello people who are getting into Danny Phantom through dpxdc!

I am not a dpxdc blog, but I am a gen dp blog. Here's a few things you should know about us:

👻 Most of us do not like Butch Hartman, the executive producer. We typically ignore him now. What you may not know is that while he was the "business guy" and the one who pitched the show, beloved artist and character designer Stephen Silver is actually the one who designed the characters for Danny Phantom (and, presumably, his team). Not only that, but he has also designed characters for many other shows of that era, including Kim Possible.

👻 Yes, we call ourselves the "phandom." We also, jokingly, sometimes put a ph in front of other things, like calling a fic a phic. It's a bit—don't take it too seriously.

👻 Yes, we have a subgenre of our fanfiction dubbed as the "dissection fic." While I may be a bit biased (as I've written a few), I think it's pretty good. You may enjoy it too if you like angst, who knows.

👻 No, you did not miss an episode, we collectively "made" an OC named Wes Weston who had the same character model as Danny but with a different color pallet. We just thought it was funny. You can read about his story here. The tl;dr is that he's the town crazy conspiracy theorist, he's the only one who knows Danny Fenton is Phantom, and he is constantly trying to prove it but nobody believes him. You remember Dib from Invader Zim? He's like Dib.

👻 On the contrary, you remember the finale of the show? That's okay, we don't either. Phantom Planet who? Never heard of her.

👻 But on the topic of adding things to fanon, the show's been off the air for decades. We're still around. Naturally, we've added things and made different AUs overtime. Different creators have different AUs they like, but you don't have to prescribe to any of them if you don't want. If you're confused about anything you see, feel free to pop me or anyone else an ask and we'd be happy to explain!

👻 There's also different bits of lore that were hinted on in canon that we've expanded. Things like ghost cores, half-ghost biology, worldbuilding with the ghost zone, ghosts having obsessions, dynamics at the school, etc. You're free to adopt or ignore whatever you'd like.

👻 The show is no ATLA, and it's a bit dated for its time, but overall it's a fairly fun background show you can throw on while you're cooking. If you've never seen an episode, I highly recommend watching at least a few fan favorites. I made a list here a while back, and I think it still holds up pretty well.

👻 We host a LOT of events. There's a full calendar of them here. You can assume these are crossover-friendly unless the event coordinators state otherwise (like in the case of phic phight). Feel free to join some!

Welcome, and have fun!

#danny phantom #lexospeaks #about the phandom

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

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I’m feral and need more of your a/b/o thoughts. Like I need to know your thoughts on alpha!141 snatching omega reader to keep for themselves

yknow i was gonna say that i haven't touched abo in forever, but then i remembered the gaz thing i just posted the other day lmao

(btw i wrote alpha 141 here but i think abo poly 141 would have alphas price/ghost and betas soap/gaz. probably. maybe. idfk.)

cw for noncon and kidnapping below the cut

i find poly 141 x reader really difficult to write outside of porn, since there's already so many interesting dynamics in regular poly 141. i have a hard time adding in a FIFTH element, yk? especially when that fifth element has to be a reader insert instead of some sorta OC or smth

anyway, i think the best dark poly 141 x reader idea is basically reader being used as a sex toy for the guys. like, she's there for them to relieve their stress in. but in an abo au i could totally see them using her as an element of softness in their lives. with 4 alphas in one home, you need an omega to soften things up a bit

and there you are. soft and sweet and small (compared to them at least) and just so perfect. you're the unlucky bastard who happens to smell appealing to all of them, and you're whisked away before you really even know it

they'd have to be sneaky, probably. you'd have a positive reaction to their scents too, so maybe johnny or gaz gets you to go on a date with one or both of them and then kidnaps you. maybe price or ghost just grabs you one day. something like that, i think, but there's much higher angst potential is kyle and/or johnny lulls you into a false sense of security first (and you know i love a good betrayal)

they'd push and prod at your instincts to force you into a heat before anything else. lock you in their den (soon to be their nest) and surround you in their scents, make low purrs to convince your instincts that you're safe

and as terrified as you are - and oh boy, are you - there's only so much you can actually fight your instincts. lets say you're either not on heat blockers, or maybe the blockers are weak, but for whatever reason you're very susceptible to all of their little pushes

they've got you knotted and mated by the end of the week

it's odd, coming up from that heat. your neck aches all the way around, to the point that it's painful to even turn your head. despite the unfamiliar room, your brain screams at you that you're safe, that you're in your nest.

it doesn't take long to put together the pieces. it also doesn't take long to become very very upset

thing is, it's too late to do anything now. you can't break a bond, and they're not giving you any opportunities to get away. you're stuck with these alphas who have performed the greatest invasion possible on your body and soul. it's crushing

cue lots of attempted comfort. soap and gaz would be the softest with you, always trying to tempt you into realizing how good it is to be with them. soap is rougher when he fucks you, but they're both equally soft outside of that. they bring you nesting materials, constantly make sure you're covered in their scents, and bicker over who gets to cuddle you on the couch

ghost isn't willing to coddle you. he's sweet (in his own right) but he's not nice. he doesn't try to make you feel better - you're meant to be with them, why should he apologize for making it happen? all they did was skip the courting process, this is always where you were going to end up. he refuses to apologize for that. but he also doesn't want you miserable. he holds you close at night, soaks with you for long hours in the tub, and is always making sure you clear your plate

price is... weird. i'm never sure if i should make him the meanest or a softer kidnapper. because i could absolutely see a version of price whipping your ass raw every time you scream at them and call them names, but i can also see a version of price who just levels you with a disapproving stare and locks you in a small dark space when you get like that

regardless, they all smother you. you help balance out their dynamics a bit more, but they're always fighting each other for your attention. especially with the bond making it so they always know what you're feeling. and your instincts scream to trust them (and you can feel their emotions too, know that they really meant for the best, as sick and twisted as it is).

#abo au #poly 141 x reader #bo writes #asks and answers

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togamest · 1 month

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5,161 words. gn!reader, hybrid!au, hybrid!reader (calico cat), pirate!hayato. ownership, collars, penetrative sex, fingering (reader!receiving), pet names (angel, kitten), torture (not reader receiving). hybrid!oc side characters. reader is described as thin and malnourished. a/n: god i don’t know what came over me. jesus christ.

I’m gonna murder you.

That was the first thing you thought of when the smugglers stuffed you into this crate. It hadn’t been without injury; you’d gotten a chance to scratch and nip at some of the arms in your vision, with yelps and cursing following. One had swatted at you, which had been met with sharp teeth sinking into his hand. He’d howled in rage, holding his hand as the top of the box had finally been shut and locked. From there, you don’t know where you’d been put; the box was small enough where you’d been cramped, not allowed out unless it was in the captain’s quarters, and even then he’d expected you to sit so still next to him.

Financial success. That was a phrase you’d recognized, one that had been associated with your calico heritage, and was probably the reason why you were on a smuggler’s ship in the first place. Why you were really here was a mystery, kept from you, which suited you perfectly fine. You didn’t need to know why you were there, only that you had to escape somehow. Something deep within you had told you that this ship was cursed; and the growing quiet outside, eerily silent, did not speak of a smooth journey. Most ships in this star system were bustling, even during the long journey. This one was quiet…too quiet.

Sure enough, all of a sudden, there seemed to be a much more intense commotion going on outside. Cannons were going off, an awful, acrid smell spreading down to your little hovel in the base of the ship. It made your nose twitch, but you knew with a sinking feeling who it was attacking the ship. Who else could it be?

PIRATES.

Your hands were pressed over your ears, doing their best to hide the noise from outside but did little to protect your hearing. Your tail, tight around your body due to your confining box, couldn’t help but twitch whenever you heard a cannon go off. From the suddenly loud footfalls above you, it sounded like the pirates had managed to get on deck. Gurgling and heavier thuds permeated the sounds, as well as cackling noises from the intruders, and then…silence.

Gentle footfalls broke the quiet, and you braced yourself as they began to move around above you, stepping down stairs and sounding as if they were in the same room as you. You tried to make yourself small in the box, as small as possible in the corner as you hear someone scrabbling at the box. “Boss!” you hear a voice say, “Looks like they got some pricey cargo. Sounds like a smuggler ship to me.”

Another voice chimes in, smoother. “Open it.”

You clap your hand over your mouth, resisting the urge to snarl. You’d been hit for that, and you weren’t keen on being hit again over it.

A jingle of keys, and the box opens in the front. Light streams in, and you have to blink several times for your eyes to adjust before heads crowd the opening. You can’t make out details, but you do hear whispering between them; the special scent of other hybrids hits your nostrils, making you want to curl further into yourself. Hybrid and poor thing and why were they smuggling this are thrown around, before the heads clear and a singular man squats down in front of you.

He’s gorgeous.

Tasseled earrings swish as he kneels. The one eye you can see has nothing but kindness in it, a strange emotion to see in the eyes of a pirate captain. His garb is typical of a captain as well; a black coat with golden lapels, black pants and black boots scuffed from many adventures. The eye patch over his other eye is frayed as well, needing a good stitching.

He doesn’t say anything, only rakes his gaze over you. You don’t even realize you’re shaking until his hand reaches in, and you resist the urge to bite him. Unlike the smugglers, he doesn’t seem to have any ill will for you. His movements are slow, easy to anticipate, something you appreciate after the harsh, rapid movements of the smugglers.

“Good,” he whispers, as if he can tell you’re holding back.

His hand finally stops in front of your nose.

Is he…letting me smell him?

He doesn’t move, so you lean forward just a little, sniffing at his palm. It smells musky, like a strong cologne you’ve smelled before but can’t put your finger on it. It sends an electric shock through your system, almost as if you were meant to be found by him. Something about this feels fated somehow, and unconsciously, you move forward and push your head underneath his hand.

His touch is soft as he scratches between your ears, the contact forcing a rough purr out of your throat as you slowly move forward. You don’t leave the box, but you do let him pet you. That’s enough for you right now; feeling someone’s gentle touch against you, raspy purrs in your chest.

“Captain?”

One of the shipmates speaks behind the man in front of you, who looks back. “Yes?”

“Are we…takin’ it with us?”

“It?” The captain’s tone is sharp all of a sudden, like a knife. The atmosphere thickens.

There’s an audible gulp. “I, uh…them, I guess.”

The captain nods, turning back to you and coaxing you out of the box. Your legs feel cramped after having been stuck in that box for so long, and you can’t help but stretch out, groaning at the snaps and cracks and pops of your joints. Your tail swishes behind you, low to the ground, as you extend your arms out in front of you, your short claws digging into the wood as you wriggle out all the cramps.

“Can you stand?” the captain asks you, offering his hand. You nod, not up for speaking just yet as you grab his hand, standing on wobbly legs. You’re shorter than him, somehow, considering he can’t be more than five and a half feet tall, so you look up at him with big, brown eyes, waiting for what he’ll do next.

You go to take a step with him, and almost instantly, your vision blurs and darkens. Someone catches you, you presume the captain as he barks an order at the shipmates that had been surrounding him. The blood rushing to your head is too much, having not been on two legs for so long, that you let the darkness drift you away, hoping when you wake that you’ll be in a safer place.

A sentence meets your ears, causing them to twitch just before you go under.

I’ll take good care of you, kitten.

You awaken to fuzziness pushing against your cheek.

Immediately, you start, before grimacing and feeling the wooziness still in your head, your hand reaching up to press against the painful spot. It seemed to be a headache; you can’t recall the last time you’d eaten properly, only being forced to consume bathwater and moldy food. Your stomach felt small, so incredibly small, and you knew you looked thin as well. Not like you’d been chubby at any point of life, but starvation and malnourishment had done a number on you.

Upon inspecting the bed you’re lying on, it’s covered in fluffy, warm blankets that smell similar to the musk of the captain. There’s food as well, the scent hanging in the air and forcing you to lean over to the side table. A plate with piping hot food (what looks to be a stew) and a tall glass of water sit, ready to be devoured.

You can’t help but drool a little, wiping the spit on your chin as you go to take a bite of the stew. You’d never had stew before, only heard stories about how many ingredients it has and how rare some of them can be to harvest. As the food hits your palette, you can’t help but hum at the heartiness of it, the warmth spreading through your body. The water follows the food, eliciting a sigh as you take another scoop of stew—

You drop the spoon in the bowl as you hear the door open, chattering from the deck seeping in past the doorframe. Luckily, it’s just the captain as he shuts the door quickly behind him, before approaching your bed.

The draft from the open door hits your skin, and you pull one of the blankets around you, redness flushing your face. I didn’t realize he’d taken my clothes. Not that they were “clothes” in the traditional sense to begin with; they had been scraps at best, hanging off of your thin frame, but feeling them gone and you bare in front of him felt wrong.

He has a soft smile on his face, his earrings tinkling as he walks. He seems to ignore the fact that you’re naked, too, which you appreciate. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, and you nod, still a little bashful. You’re probably too trusting of him so quickly, but…something about him makes you feel relaxed.

He sits on the edge of the bed, beckoning you close. You move as if attached by a magnet to his hand, pushing your head underneath it and purring as he gives you some scratches. There’s a noise of a bell somewhere, and you feel his hand brush against the soft skin of your neck, reaching for the ratty leather collar that the smugglers used.

You almost forgot about it, but you can’t resist hissing as his hand goes to grab it, jerking back. “No!” you cry out, and he releases the collar immediately, holding both of his hands in view. There’s something sad in his eyes, that makes you soften again, the bristling on your head relaxing. “Sorry,” you rasp, “’m sorry. Just…sensitive.”

He nods. “Can I remove it?” he asks. You nod.

He asks for permission at every turn, asking to rub the redness from your neck when the collar comes off. He adds some medicine to the burn, tutting. “Those smugglers had no idea how to take care of you, did they?” he questions, mostly to himself, but you shake your head anyway. You don’t remember much before the ship, mostly hiding in alleyways and making a name for yourself. You’d managed to hide your hybrid elements for a while, but the smugglers always find out eventually. It’s how they work.

Your eyes slide closed at his movements, his firm touches against your sensitive neck, and his cooing voice in your ear, telling you it’s going to be okay. One sentence remains as you drift off, feeling yourself grow tired after eating your fill of the soup and being freed of that disgusting collar.

Call me Hayato, angel.

Hayato was as fierce as he was kind, however.

You’d gotten used to accompanying him to meetings, sitting next to him obediently. He’d given you a much nicer collar, a black one with a shiny silver bell on the front of it, tinkling whenever you moved. He’d dressed you in much higher quality clothes, as well; similar to his own garb, you’d gotten a black jacket, white shirt, black pants and black boots. Thankfully, he never found a reason to give you a leash, and you stayed close to him enough where it wouldn’t matter. You weren’t a canine hybrid, after all.

However, today, there was an interrogation.

Of one of the smugglers they’d captured.

You’d sat, curled up in your seat as Hayato stalked around the smuggler in question. He’d been beaten before he’d been brought in, sores and welts disfiguring his face. However, he recognized you, and that led to where he is now; at the bad end of Hayato’s whip, lashing out whenever the smuggler gave him an answer he didn’t like.

“What were you doing with them?” Hayato asks sternly, pointing to you. The smuggler clams up, shaking his head. “Can’t—can’t tell,” he stammers out, and the tension in the room skyrockets. It’s almost hard to breathe as you stare at the man through slitted eyes, your ears pinned to your head as you hiss at him. He winces again, and flinches as Hayato squats next to him. The shipmates around him are bristling, almost waiting for the command to tear him to pieces.

You’d noticed, recently, that many of the shipmates were also hybrids. There’s a wolf hybrid, always barking at one of the golden retrievers that never seemed to be able to mop the deck fast enough for him. He had a massive scar up his snout, crossing one of his eyes and rendering it blind, his ears and tail jet black shot through with red (that you imagined he dyed himself). The retriever was larger, more stout with big brown eyes, and much more of a yapper. It was like watching night and day.

That meant this was personal for Hayato. He had a stake in this.

You made a mental note to ask him why he kept rescuing hybrids, but it seemed as though he did it for justice more than anything else as he lashes the man once more, a wail tearing itself from the injured man’s throat as a massive welt appears on his bare back, blood oozing to the surface.

“Can’t tell me? You know your captain has been killed, correct?” Hayato’s tone is clipped.

The man gasps. “No! He’d never go down that easy to the likes of you,” he spits, and Hayato’s face splits into a smile. A smile that a carnivore would have, when its prey has caught itself in a trap right in front of it.

“Never? Well, he seemed to go down quite easily before the barrel of my gun.”

The smuggler gulps. “F-Fine,” he stammers after a moment, “what do you want?”

Hayato sighs. “I asked you already. What did you want with this hybrid? Come now, keep up.”

The smuggler looks back up at you, and smirks, having a lick of courage flashing in his eyes. It made your blood feel cold*.* “That one? Oh, they’re a pretty one. Pro’lly had it on there so the captain could stick his cock somewhere—”

The blow that lands on his face is loud, a crrrrrack echoing through the cabin as the man slumps, gasping, almost unconscious. Hayato’s face is stern, a rage in his eyes that looks like fire. He doesn’t shake or flinch, but moves in a calculating way as he shifts to be right in the man’s vision. “Disgusting,” he says, spitting on the man’s face, which is met with a faint groan, “fucking disgusting. People like you deserve nothing in this world. Would you have even asked for consent, or do you also think you’re entitled to that as well?”

You’ve curled inside of yourself as soon as you heard the words the man had spoken. The lust in his voice was clear, and you couldn’t help but want to hide, hide away from prying eyes and from anyone who saw you as a pretty little hole. It made you feel dirty, and thankfully nothing had happened before Hayato had arrived, but…what if he hadn’t? What would your fate have been?

The smuggler coughs, blood spraying on the floor. You look over at the wolf, and notice the drool dripping from his mouth. He can smell the blood, of course he can; and he looked like he’d want nothing better than to devour the man in front of him. His teeth are digging into his lip, and the retriever’s hand moves to grip the wolf’s, noticing his tail swishing.

The smuggler grins through the blood. “’Course ‘m entitled. It was my property, yeah? I could do whatever I want to it, and so could the captain.”

The rage that’s swirling in Hayato’s eyes only strengthens as he looks up and glances at the wolf, meeting his feral eyes. The wolf’s muscles are ramrod straight, and he’s shaking at having to hold himself back. The retriever does his best, but it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.

Hayato says nothing, turning on the smuggler and moving to you, instead, worry clouding his eyes as the rage dispels. He moves in a way where you can’t see the smuggler anymore, and kneels down in front of you, cupping your face.

He removes one hand, and snaps his fingers, the crisp noise echoing around the cabin.

Within an instant, you see the wolf charge in, claws tearing at any part of the man that he can get his hands on from the noises that elicited from the movements you could barely see. His nails are long, never cut but only sharpened and fine-tuned, like ten small blades attached to his fingers. Blood sprays all over the cabin, the man’s screams echoing around the cabin.

You see none of it. Hayato sits in front of you, taking up all of your vision, his big eyes staring deeply into your own. There’s safety there. “Look at me,” he whispers, and you comply, because how could you not when someone who barely knew you fought for you without needing a reason? Even if there had been a reason, you had a feeling that Hayato would have done it anyway.

The retriever moves in after the wolf is done and silence has fallen, cleaning up after him. The wolf staggers back, and you attempt to peek over Hayato’s shoulder, who gently moves your face back to look at him. “Don’t look at him,” he says softly, “I don’t want you to see this. Just know that he’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

You shivered. “Okay.”

That night, you can’t help but hear the man’s screams.

The clean-up after had been out of your vision as well, the retriever doing his best to keep you out of the cabin. It had been difficult, but due to his brawn there was no way you could have forced your way in. So, instead, you chose to lounge in Hayato’s quarters, which you’ve now discovered is where you’d woken up. You chose your own bed instead, having had it closer to the door, and you’d toppled onto it to sleep.

You dreamed of terror, horribly vivid dreams with hands touching you where you didn’t want them. Voices telling you you belong to me, I can do what I want echoing through your brain. You couldn’t talk back, or hiss or scream for help; your vocal chords were shot, tightened, frozen in place.

You’d woken up in a pool of sweat, shaking and shuddering in the middle of the night. The ship was moving gently along the galactic current, the stars outside bringing soft light into the cabin. There was a planet you were passing, its bright aura dousing the cabin in a pretty glow of orange and purple.

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you crawled over to Hayato’s bed. You felt terrible asking him to soothe you, but you simply shed your clothes and crawled under the covers with him, thinking nothing of it.

Instead, Hayato’s eyes fluttered open as you slid under the blankets, getting yourself comfortable. “Are you alright?” he rasps, blinking sleepily as he drags you to him, a soft yelp falling from your lips at the movement, before smoothing into his grip. “Nightmare,” you whisper, and his grip on your only tightens. The bell around your throat jingles.

“Oh, angel,” he whispers, scratching that space between your ears that he knows you love, “it’s alright. I’m here. None of those bastards will ever lay a hand on you again, I promise.”

It’s silent for a moment, before your mind begins to wander.

You can feel that Hayato is only dressed in sleep pants, and for some reason, that makes you feel warm. Something stirs inside of you, your stomach tight as you turn to look at him. Whatever is in your eyes makes his grow dark, and he grins. “Do you need me to take care of you?” he asks, and you nod. There was something about having Hayato do what the men in the nightmare did; call it reclaiming power or whatever you’d like, but having it with the person you trusted the most (currently) felt like it was wiping away the previous horrible ordeals you’d been through.

His lips slot against your own so gently that you almost don’t notice, and a purr is shared between your connected mouths as his tongue slides against your lips, asking for entrance. It licks into your mouth, hot and wet and strong, easily taking control from you. Your tail swishes against the covers, and your thighs clench at the motion.

“My pretty little kitten,” he murmurs against you, “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

His hands drift, down to your hips as his nails sink into the skin. The motion has you trembling against him, small ah’s escaping your mouth as he breaks the connection between you two, looking at you like you’d hung all the stars in the galaxy. He looks at you in a way he doesn’t look at anyone else, and it makes your chest feel warm.

As he maneuvers above you, you can’t help but blurt out, “My first time. This, uh…this is my first.”

He stops dead in his tracks, gaze hot on your lithe body. “I’m your first?”

You nod hesitantly. “B-But I do want this. With you. Promise.” You don’t know how else to say it, or how else to beg for it because now that he’s kissed you, you need him everywhere. Particularly, between your legs, where you can feel wetness beginning to build between your thighs. Who cares if it’s going to be something you regret? Right now, it felt right to reward the person who’d saved you twice over.

He pauses for a moment, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate. Then, he smiles, moving back to your lips and capturing you in a long kiss, teeth clacking together. You sink your canines into his lip, just enough to indent the skin, and he groans into your mouth.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, moving down to spread your legs in front of him. You feel your ears twitch as he does so, gazing at your center and how it drips onto the blankets beneath you both. There’s a flush on your cheeks, you can feel the warmth on them as he reaches out and runs a long, thin finger through your lips, from your center up to your throbbing clit.

As soon as his finger taps your nub, you jolt, your hips unconsciously bucking into his own grip. There’s a grin that splits across Hayato’s face, and he doubles down on the movement, leaning over you to get closer, his lips hovering inches above your own. His eyes are blown wide, almost black with lust as he watches you unfold beneath him.

The whines and whimpers that fall from your mouth aren’t in your control; you can only react to him, shuddering and shaking beneath him as he continues his movements. “Have you ever cum before?” he whispers, and you shake your head. You’d never touched yourself, either; it’s not like you had the time for self exploration, and Hayato can certainly tell with how sensitive you are. It’s almost like you’ve been pent up, all this time, your need pacing the grounds of a cage, yowling to be let out.

He smiles at you. “I’m going to make you, don’t worry,” he says gently, “get you nice and ready for me.”

You can feel it, the arousal, tightening in your stomach like a spring. It’s all so much that tears are pricking at your eyes, dribbling down your cheeks as you sob. “Feels ‘s good, Hayato,” you whine, and his smile only grows as he picks up the pace, his fingers rolling and pushing against you. “Good, angel,” he responds, “now, can you cum for me? Can my pretty kitten cum for me?”

You’d never been one to follow commands, being a feline hybrid, but something about his voice had you spurting all over the blankets without a second thought, a cry ripping itself from your throat as you cum. He watches you do so, his gaze a burning fire that’s tearing through you, watching your body jerk and shake and shudder beneath him as you ride out your high. You can’t tear your eyes from him, not with how intense he looks and how happy he looks, his pride for you written obviously all over his face.

His fingers leave you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before he’s there again above you, lips attached to you.

“You did so wonderfully, angel,” he says against you, his hands pulling off his pants, “so, so good for me.”

Your head is light, as if there was a dam broken that suddenly made you feel like you were walking on air. When his cock brushes against your center, you wince, feeling the head prod against you. “T-too big,” you manage to get out, and he pulls you in close, bracketing your head with his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead.

“We can stop if you want to,” he says softly, but you shake your head. Now that you’ve gotten a taste…you need to feel him inside of you. Claiming you. “No, it’s okay,” you manage to get out, and he holds you close as he positions himself, slowly breaching the ring of tight muscles.

“Just relax, kitten,” he says, “relax and let me in. Let me make you feel good.”

Your breaths are deep, following his motions as oxygen flows in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly, you feel him enter, and while it does burn, it doesn’t hurt. In fact, his cock slides in relatively easily thanks to the wetness lining your walls, and—God.

“S’ full,” you moan, and his forehead drops to your own as he pants. You can feel him restraining himself from slamming into you, adjusting to you. “You’re so tight,” he whispers, “hugging me so good, angel. Fuck.”

You stay that way for some moments, connected so divinely that you could’ve fallen asleep right there with Hayato’s cock keeping you nice and open, but that was a pipe dream. Instead, he slides out so slowly that every ridge of his cock rubs against your walls, and when he slides back in, the head hits this part inside of you that feels spongey and feels so good. You let out a shudder and a high-pitched squeal as he slides in and out faster, and when you look at him, he’s grinning. You don’t think he’s stopped grinning and smiling this entire time.

“Holy shit, kitten,” he pants, “don’t wanna cum too fast. Wanna feel you more.”

You nod, sighing as he sheaths himself inside of you once again. “Faster. Please, Hayato? Make me cum again?”

He pauses, looking at you questioningly. “Are you sure?”

You nod far too quickly. “Yes. Promise.”

The next snap of his hips has you seeing stars, bullying against that spot within you that makes you feel warm and tight and ready to explode all over him again. The pace is fast, but it’s not brutal; it’s like a ship, swaying and prodding and pounding rhythmically, like a song. Like a galactic song that’s been known across space and time.

He pushes himself up onto his palms, sweat dripping onto you as he rails into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, cupping your face with one hand and keeping himself up on the other. Skin slaps against skin, and your moans and whines all but spur him on to moving even faster. Your mind is unraveling with every thrust, every prodding movement to that spot within you only making you wetter. Squelching noises echo around the cabin, and your thighs clench around Hayato, your ankles unconsciusly locking behind him.

“G-Gonna cum, Haya,” you mumble, and his eyes screw shut as he lets out a groan that’s so loud that you expect half the ship can hear you both (if they couldn’t already). “Cum on my cock, kitten,” he says, panting and opening his eyes and looking directly at you, “I know you can do it.”

And you do. This one hits you even harder than the last, your vision almost whiting out as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Along with your walls trembling around him, you can feel Hayato growing close; you’re not sure exactly what it looks or feels like when a fully-human man comes, but with the stuttering of his hips and the way his cock feels inside of you, it’s no secret he’s about to finish as well.

So, you find some crude bravery as you lean up and whisper in his ear.

“Cum inside of me, Hayato.”

He gasps. “Oh, fuck,” he gets out, trembling, before he’s spurting inside of you with a growl that makes every hair on your body stand up. He starts babbling against you, the dirty words weaving their way into your mind and making you shudder and shake around him as you finish together.

“Fuck, gonna fill this pretty little hole. You’re mine, you’re all mine, nobody else can touch you but me. Only me. This is my little hole, only mine, mine, mine.”

Eventually, his arms collapse and he drops onto your chest, heaving and panting as he presses a kiss to your chest. You’re no better, drawing in deep breaths as you come back to center, your vision clearing as you feel the blankets underneath you and Hayato’s body stuck to your own through sweat and other bodily fluids.

You lay like that for some time, his hand lazily scratching between your ears, pressing small kisses to your shoulder where he can reach without moving. He looks up at you then, a stupid grin on his face. It’s almost dopey.

“I never thought I’d meet a hybrid like you,” he says, and you scrunch your nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you shoot back, and he lets out a giggle that makes your chest feel warm and cozy. His hand cups your face, and he pulls you down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Only that I adore you.”

The sentence wraps itself around you, holding you comfortably as he cleans you both up, changing the blankets and producing fresh ones. You nestle into the bed, Hayato’s arms wrapping around you tightly, as if someone was going to crash into the cabin and take you away from him.

At least, that’s probably what he thought.

Feeling safe in his arms, you drift off, feeling more safe than you’ve felt in years.

He adores me.

And he does.

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

#suou hayato x reader #hayato suou x reader #wind breaker x reader #tw hybrids #ari's autographs

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yoonivy · 1 month

Text

gold rush; part 2.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. none.

author's note. i have no poetic bone in my body so oc's poem is taken from mitski's "your best american girl". enjoy!!!!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

This is not how you thought you’ll be spending your first day off in months — with your favorite distressed black tee of your favorite band covered in flour, eggs in your hair, and coloured icing staining your hands. But you suppose there are worse ways to spend your day off, and at least all this hard work will pay off with all the delicious desserts that Sansa is manically making.

And by manic, you are not at all joking in the slightest.

On every available surface of Sansa’s kitchen, there is at least one tray of some sort of baked goods cooling. Cookies on the kitchen table, banana bread and her favorite lemon cakes on the island, three different flavours of cheesecakes by the sink, and macaron shells currently in the oven. And she’s not even finished! While you are currently decorating the cookies, she is frantically stirring something else in a bowl — by hand, because once again for the 9th time this year, she had broken an electric mixer just a bit earlier.

There is only one reason Sansa gets like this. There is something troubling her mind. And by the looks of the disaster she made of her kitchen, it’s pretty big.

She’ll let you know when she’s ready to vent. But for now, you’re just both happy for the company.

Plus, you’re finally getting a hang of this icing piping thing if you do say so yourself. You stand back, picking up the sea salt caramel chip cookie you finished decorating to proudly show off the cute turtle to Sansa.

She laughs, offering an excited, “ Awwww!” before she goes back to mixing.

It’s quiet for a while, both of you concentrated on the task at hand.

Mayhaps too quiet, you start to think…

That is when you smell something… strange.

“Oh no!”

Sansa reacts and jumps on it first, quick to the oven with her mitts, pulling out the tray of charred macaron shells and placing it onto the stove. You stand by her as she slumps in defeat, and you notice she forgot to set the timer she already had ready on the oven.

From this close, it’s easier to notice how frazzled and disheveled Sansa truly is. Her copper hair is in disarray, falling from her tight bun in many places, her bangs messy against her forehead. Her rosy complexion even more flush than usual. And the bags under her eyes… She has not slept well.

Meeting your gaze, she lets out a heavy sigh, and finally comes out with it, “Jon asked me out.”

“ Oh… ” You trail off, eyes shifting from side to side. “That’s… that’s it?”

“What?!” Sansa is so shocked that you’re so nonchalant about it. As if she and Jon haven’t been dancing around each other for nearly two years now. “Isn’t that… Isn’t it…”

You gasp into an over exaggerated worried expression. “Oh no… you’re going to reject him, aren’t you?”

Your poor bestie… Now he is going to be even more sulky than ever. If that’s even possible.

“I— no! I mean, I want —” Sansa sputters, eyes widening wildly. Then she takes a breath to recollect herself, stares at you for a moment before she claims, “You all knew, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly.

“Even… Robb?”

“I’m pretty sure Robb’s the one that gave him the final push to ask you.”

Sansa groans, face palming. “This is so embarrassing…”

“Yeah, it’s so strange. How very Cersei Lannister of you,” you tease, clearly unserious with your reference to the recent scandal of the high profile actress who was caught having an affair… With her own twin brother, the most booked and busy male model Jaime Lannister. Some say the raunchy videos that leaked were just deep fakes and the twins were the ones who leaked it themselves to hide the fact they both weren’t straight, but many others — like yourself and Sansa — think it’s as real as can be. For the first two weeks when the scandal broke out, you and Sansa kept sending the group chat twitter “proof” threads of clips of the Lannister twins throughout the years (on the red carpet, the photoshoots they often were paired up with together, their own content they would post of one another) to convince your other friends. Needless to say, all the guys left the group chat and would only agree to be added back if the two of you shut the fuck up about it.

They’re lucky that the star of the reality television show "Keeping Up With The Martells", Arianne Martell, started dating comedian Pete Davidson a week later or else they would have never been added back.

Sansa’s face falls into a silent gasp, and you quickly have to convince her, “I’m joking, Sansa! You and Jon are nothing like them! And plus, cousins dating is not that weird… Aren’t your grandparents cousins?”

“Yes, but–”

“And they’re the most adorable little old couple I’ve ever seen! How they would always walk around the godswood every morning holding hands… my little heart couldn’t handle the cuteness every time I saw them when we were growing up!”

Sansa giggles, smiling fondly at the thought of her grandparents. “You’re right… They are so sweet.”

You share a smile, but then Sansa frowns suddenly. “But it’s not even that… I mean it was , but there’s also… There’s also the fact I was horrible to Jon when we were growing up.”

You won’t deny that, but… “Well clearly things have changed. You’ve changed. And it’s obvious Jon forgives you… And honestly, if I have to hear him be all sad boy and pine over you and play his guitar while singing some song by Cigarettes After Sex for another night, I think I might really have to K word myself.”

“Don’t do that!” Sansa laughs, shaking her head. You raise a brow at her and then she nods, determined.

“I’m going to talk to him… Right now,” Sansa declares, smiling wide. Then she takes your hands into hers. “Thank you… For being here for me when I’m such a mess.”

“It’s nothing, Sansa,” you say as you pull your hands from her grasp to wrap her into a tight hug. “I’m always here for you, you know that! And I know you’d do the same for me.”

After you both pull away, your finger grazes on her cheek and then you show her the pad now covered in cake mixture. “Maybe shower first before you talk to him?”

You both laugh, and then Sansa leaves you alone in her kitchen. You start to clean up, getting most of it done and only stopping when you pass by the tray of cookies you were working on.

As you stare at one of the chocolate chips you had decorated, you pull your phone out of your pocket.

To Aemond

— are you at school rn?

From Aemond

— Yes. At Barristan Hall.

— Why?

To Aemond

— okay good!

— STAY THERE!! 😡

From Aemond

— Alright.

— Why?

— Oh, so it's okay when you leave me on read?

You laugh at Aemond’s unintentional silliness while you slam close the car door you just stepped out of.

To Aemond — it’s only been 5 minutes you drama queen!! — i’ll see you soon!

“I was promised treats for the ride.”

You roll your eyes, looking across the hood of the car where Theon is putting on his clubmaster sunglasses. You meet him at the front of his car, handing him one of the little dessert packages you had made with Sansa. His eyes light up as he takes it, going ‘ oooh! ’, then he glances up into your eyes more expectantly. Even from behind the sunglasses, you can feel his little beady eyes doing that pleading, wide-eyed emoji look at you.

“You motherf…” You curse him under your breath, rummaging into your tote bag to hand him what he really wanted. The preroll you were saving for yourself later that evening.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, m’lady,” he says with a bow.

“Uh-huh.”

As the two of you walk off the parking lot together, Theon lights it up, takes a hit before handing it to you. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn't have classes today?”

“I don’t,” you tell him, after exhaling the sativa from your lungs. You hold up the second tote bag you were carrying to show him. “I’m just being a little dessert fairy! I’m gonna give one to Seaworth, Professor Tarth, and…”

Taking back the spliff and glancing your way, Theon grins and teases, “And your little Targaryen boyfie ?”

Your face twists in disgust. “Ew. Please never say that ever again,” Theon snickers as you continue, “And he’s not my boyfriend… We’re just… friends…question mark?”

You’re definitely not even sure about that. It’s been a week since the party, and you’ve yet to see Aemond in person since then.

But the two of you have been texting. A lot.

Surprisingly, Aemond is fun to text despite his perfect sentence structures, proper punctuation, and no use of emojis. Though strangely enough, you don’t even have to explain the internet slangs you say and memes you often send him, he just somehow knows. You usually get a very dry ‘Haha.’ and you’re not sure if he even finds it actually funny. He still keeps texting you though, so you take that as a good sign.

“ Friends… right. Because you make out with your friends all the time in front of a huge crowd.”

“How many times do I have to tell you: WE DID NOT MAKE OUT! OR EVEN KISS FOR THAT MATTER!”

Theon waves around the phone in his hand. “I have video evidence! And so does Marg! And a million other people that were at the party!”

“And you’re all dumb, like I’ve said before,” you tell him with a pout. You can’t believe the videos of you and Aemond “kissing” gained traction around the students at your school and yet none of your sick dance moves did. The world is so unfair!

As the two of you stop by the doors of the building where his first and only class of the day is being held, Theon steps on the roach of the spliff. Then he turns to you, pulling down his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, enough for you to see his eyes. “How do I look?”

“Like you smoked half a joint.”

“Shit… Mordane is going to kill me.”

You hum, satisfied. “Perhaps it’s deserved… I know it’s your video that’s been spreading around, you little shit!”

From the anonymous TikTok video that Jon showed you that was being spread around the night after the party titled “Vale U’s Ice Prince snogging the weirdest girl at Vale U”, you can hear Margaery gasping beside the cameraman and the cameraman laughing annoyingly. It’s definitely Theon.

Theon now laughs again, the same annoying laugh from the video, and shrugs his shoulders flippantly. Opening the doors, he lilts at you, “Say hi to your boyfie for me!”

With your middle finger up at him, you sing-song back, “I won’t!”

“Theon says hi .”

Aemond eyes you quizzically, brows furrowing together in a way that you would think is cute if he was your boyfriend like Theon teases. But he’s not, so it’s like, whatever…

“Theon…?” He repeats, still confused.

“You know, my friend who I think spread that video of us?”

“ Ah… ” Aemond lets out, finally putting a face to the name. Then he looks up at you from where you are standing just beside the table he is sitting at, clearing his throat. “So… How have you been?”

“Fine,” you tell him with a shrug, glancing around the room. You think this must be the first time you’ve been to Barristan Hall since… Well, since your tour guide of the University two years ago. This building is unnecessarily too bougie , and it’s where the more privileged students (read, nepo babies ) like to spend their time on campus. Even this study hall — if you can even call it that — has a stall of the most expensive coffee store chain in it and a freaking high-end bar . It’s ridiculous!

Aemond is at least studying judging by the book and laptop he has opened in front of him, unlike the other students mingling around.

You then turn your attention back to him, finding his eye still on you. With a soft smile, you return his question, “How about you? How have you been?”

Aemond sits up a little straighter as he says, “I’ve been… well.” He then presses his lips together, before opening his mouth again, “So, what—”

“Oh, ____! Fancy seeing you here!”

You and Aemond glance to where Ramsay, Aegon, and Vis are all approaching the two of you.

Before you can even dodge it, Ramsay has his arms wrapped around you. Cringing, you push him off you with a glare that he takes with an amused chuckle. He leans in close, too close , and inhales deeply, smirking at you when he pulls back, “You smell real sweet, sweetheart.”

You make a face that hopefully conveys your utter disgust for him but then Aegon pushes him aside with his arms wide open towards you with pout, “Where’s my hug at, ____?”

You suppress a grimace, tentatively hugging Aegon back when he steps towards you, patting his back awkwardly. It’s strange for Aegon to be this friendly towards you, but maybe it’s because Aemond and you are sorta, kinda, maybe friends now? And Aegon was the nicer of the two towards you when you were growing up. Daeron and Helaena are still the sweetest though.

From over your shoulder, Aegon smirks at his little brother, the glare Aemond has on him making him tighten his arm around you.

Luckily Vis does not seem to care for you, already sitting down at the table with Aemond with his iced Sunspearino. Aegon finally lets you go and join, sitting beside his brother – bending down to snicker mischievously into Aemond’s ear before he does so. Hidden from view from under the table, Aemond’s knuckles whiten from his clenched fist.

Ramsay stays standing with his hips cocked and arms crossed, his sleazy gaze steady on you.

Ugh.

“So, ____, have you visited our father lately?” Aegon asks, throwing his arm around Aemond.

“Yup, just yesterday!” You tell him. Then to both him and Aemond, you suggest, “You know, you two should visit him more often. He’s always asking about you guys as if I know what the two of you are up to…”

Aegon snorts while Aemond frowns, looking down.

“Last time we visited, we found some very interesting… things , that our dear father has been hiding,” Aegon says, eyeing you closely.

“Like what…?” Your face twists. “... Porn ? Actually — whatever it is, don’t even tell me!”

The boys laugh – except Aemond – and Aegon points towards you, wagging his finger, “You’re pretty funny. I like you!”

“Told ya she’s cute,” Ramsay comments and you almost gag.

“I don’t know about that…” Vis mutters under his breath. “She has egg in her hair for crying out loud…”

With your mouth downturned, you glance down at your hair and find that he is right — you do have egg in your hair. Well that’s embarrassing…

“You’re here to give me something, weren’t you?” Aemond asks, changing the subject.

“Oh right!” You exclaim, pulling out a neatly plastic wrapped package tied together with a red ribbon and placing it on the table for Aemond. Inside the clear plastic sheet are different individually boxed sweets in clear small tupperware. It’s a bit extra, but that’s Sansa for you! “I spent the morning baking with a friend and we made too much, so… Here you go!” Then you grin at Vis, holding up a piece of your hair, “The reason why I have egg,” you tell him with a laugh. He smiles tightly, still unamused.

You turn back to Aemond, pointing out the different dessert from outside the package, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I gave you a bit of everything… That’s lemon cake over there, Sansa’s favorite. Oh, the macarons! I think I gave you the pistachio and coffee flavored one. Um… Strawberry cheesecake. The banana bread is pretty fire… and,” Your eyes light up as you giddily talk, and Aemond’s cheeks heats up, “I decorated that cookie myself! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You meet his eyes, and he startles, realizing he has been looking at you the entire time instead of following what you were pointing out. You did not notice, only smiling at him as you let him know “It’s a dragon, like your family—”

“That doesn’t look like a dragon,” Aegon remarks rudely, and both you and Aemond snap at him at the same time, “Yes, it does!”

You throw an appreciative smile at Aemond which he returns with a coy half-grin, while Aegon murmurs with a frown, “Geez, talk about touchy ….”

“Thank you,” Aemond says softly, pulling the package towards himself.

Grinning, you wave him off, “No problem!”

Then you glance at the time on your phone. “I should get going,” you tell him, already backing away. “I’ll talk to you later!”

Aemond stands suddenly, but doesn’t move, just nods as his hands stay pressed on the table. “Yeah, later…”

You throw him one final glance back with a sweet smile on your face and he grins back.

Once you’re gone, that’s when he finally sits back down.

“I guess Aemond has game after all,” Vis smirks. “Didn’t think you had it in you…”

Ramsay harrumphs, now also seated. “She never once gave me a package of sweets…” Then he grins sordidly, “But she did give something else that’s pretty sweet if you know what I mean…”

“Fuck off,” Aegon laughs out loud. “You’re gonna make Aemond blow a fuse.”

“He shouldn’t be getting attached to her,” Vis reminds Aegon, and Aemond in turn with a furrowed look. “Isn’t that the whole plan?”

“Looks like he’s getting pretty attached to me,” Ramsay says with a yawn.

“I’m not,” Aemond says, surely. “I’m just trying to make it all believable. Isn’t that the plan also?”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I have a go again after you dump her?” Ramsay asks, with an innocent tilt in his voice. “I’ve missed that tight cunt …”

Tension clenches Aemond’s jaw minutely, then evenly he says, “Go ahead. By my guest.”

But when Aegon tries to grab for one of the sweets, Aemond snatches it away, and stuffs the package with care in his bag. He then stands up and gathers all his things, stalking away without another word.

Aegon heaves a sigh, incredulously asking, “What’s his problem?!”

Ramsay smirks, letting out a chuckle. “Oh, this is going to be fun …”

You managed to catch Professor Tarth before she left the campus, so your next and final stop for the dessert delivery is your favorite teacher, your literature professor, Davos Seaworth.

You find him in his office and he does not even hesitate to dig into the double mocha cheesecake in his sweets package.

“How many extra credits do you want for this?” He asks, pointing at the cheesecake he is almost finished. “I’ll give you as many as you want.”

You laugh while shaking your head, flipping through a book he had just given you to read at your leisure. “No credits! But I’ll make sure to bring you more of that one next time!”

Knowing Sansa, next time will be pretty soon.

“Hmm… alright…” Davos trails off, dabbing his beard with a napkin. “By the way, have you signed up for the poetry slam I told you about?”

You sink into your seat, the one across the desk he is sitting at, sheepishly grinning at him, “Not yet…”

Davos hums out disgruntledly. “And why not?”

“I completely forgot about it,” you say with a shrug, you know, like a liar.

In truth, it’s all you’ve been thinking about. The poetry slam competition at Moon Door Cafe, where the winner will win a 5k cheque and their poetry collection published in a book — both of which you need and want, respectively.

“You better, ____. I’ve already told my friend to look out for you.”

“Okay, then I will,” you try to tell him, but Davos keeps his skeptical gaze on you. “I promise I’ll send in an email tonight!”

Then, once again like a liar, you don’t.

Two days later, Aemond finds himself standing by your apartment door, his life getting threatened by the muted snarling of the biggest wolf he has ever seen, so early in the morning.

“Ghost, stop… ” Jon Snow frowns at the white direwolf that still has its teeth bared at Aemond. Jon gently pushes the wolf aside, opening the door wider to allow Aemond to step inside. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite… He’s just… uh… I don’t even know what his problem is today…” Jon sends Aemond a weak smile, “He’s usually pretty friendly…”

Aemond eyes the wolf before turning to Jon. “It’s fine. I’m not really good with animals.”

Jon offers him a slow nod, then informs Aemond, “____’s just in a washroom. Getting ready, I think?”

Aemond hums just as Jon presents his hand. “I don’t think we’ve properly met, I’m Jon. ____’s roommate, and uh… best friend?”

Aemond shifts the coffee tray over to hold with just one hand to shake it. “Aemond. Why do you sound unsure?”

Jon laughs softly, “Oh, I don’t know…”

Aemond eyes him for a second then hums again. He remembers you telling him about how awkward Jon is, so that might be it.

Aemond then glances around the small space — a living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one — it’s homely and cozy, and he can definitely picture you in here. Flitting around, watering the plants, dancing to the music playing from the vinyl player, cooking in the kitchenette…

“Oh, hey! I went with ____ to your dad’s place yesterday!”

The smile on Aemond’s face falls just when he turns to see Jon grinning wide at him.

“He’s really awesome! And a hell of a Cyvasse player — I think he beat me in just four turns!” Jon recalls with a laugh.

Aemond exhales heavily, offering Jon a tight-lipped smile. “That’s… great.”

Feeling the awkward tension finally, Jon rubs a hand at the back of his neck. “Oh, uh… yeah…”

“Whoa, hey! What are you doing here?”

Aemond glances over to where Ghost pads to, and his eye widen and balks when he sees you just wrapped in a tiny towel.

You walk around your apartment like this — with Jon just in the room?!

He then swerves his stare at Jon who looks unmoved but looking at you as well.

“I think he brought you breakfast,” Jon tells you all nonchalantly, and Aemond lifts up the coffee tray he is carrying dumbly.

Your whole face lights up, smiling wide at him, so much brighter than the sun coming through the windows, “Aw, that’s so sweet! Wait, let me get dressed first!” You hurry into your room, slamming the door behind you and Ghost who follows you in.

“Is this for the desserts I gave you!?” He hears you call from behind the door. “Because you really didn’t have to!”

“It’s–” he starts to call out, but you are already walking out your room. And although it took you less than a minute, you look absolutely… breathtaking.

Aemond will not admit it, but his heart leaps to his throat; staring at you all slack jawed and short of breath.

You bounce to him cheerfully; Ghost in tow, now happier as well by the way his tail wags. You grab one of the paper bags on the tray, opening it to find an almond croissant. “ Oooh , but I won’t say no!” You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you! ”

Aemond takes a hard swallow, and finds himself smiling back, “No problem.”

As he sets the tray down on the small round kitchen table, you break off a piece of the croissant and offer it to Jon to taste. Aemond watches the interaction with a frown on his face. He shakes it off with a shake of his head, and pulls out one of the cups from the tray, handing it to you, “This is for you.”

You take it happily, but as you read through the label the barista had messily written on the cup, your face begins to falter. “Oh, um…”

Aemond’s expression hardens. “You don’t like lattes?”

“No! I love lattes!” You quickly say. “It’s great–”

“She’s lactose intolerant,” Jon explains and Aemond’s face falls.

“It’s all good! I can just take lactaid!”

“But you hate hot drinks…”

“Jon… You’re not helping…” You tell your best friend through gritted teeth.

“But it’s freezing outside,” Aemond states, so he thought you’d appreciate something warm for this chilly morning…

“Okay, don’t judge me…” you glare playfully at Aemond. “I like iced drinks! Is that such a crime?”

Aemond shakes his head, though he is still frowning. “No, it’s not…”

Your head tilts at the look on his face, confused. “Aemond…”

“Here, give it to me,” Jon says, reaching for the cup in your hand. Once he has it, he goes to the cupboard, pulling out a water bottle. Then from the freezer, he grabs an ice tray, putting ice and the latte into the bottle before handing it back to you.

“There,” Jon says with a satisfied grin. “All better for Miss Fussy.”

“Fuck you,” you huff out, and yet you laugh and your tone fond. “But what would I do without you?”

“I honestly don’t even know…”

As Aemond glances between you and your best friend sharing a smile, a strange feeling stirs inside him.

“Is this your first time taking the bus?”

Aemond glares your way for your senseless question. “Of course not.”

But as he struggles to make himself comfortable on the seat beside yours, you have to giggle to yourself. It’s definitely his first time.

Aemond rolls his eye and ignores your tittering.

Aemond’s annoyed, and rightfully so. You and him had a perfectly good ride to school but you insisted on taking the bus so Aemond let his driver go for the day to accompany you.

“Theon calls her a bus wanker,” Aemond remembers Jon saying earlier with a laugh while you got your school bag from your room.

At the puzzled look on Aemond’s face, Jon frowned, “You know… Like from the show… The Inbetweeners?”

Still confused, Jon finally told him, “It’s one of _____’s favorite shows. We, uh, rewatch it every few years together.”

And there Jon goes, once again reminding Aemond the history between the two of you. How he knows everything there is to know about you.

Now that’s a wanker , Aemond thinks a little too spitefully.

Whatever, it doesn't even matter. Once Aemond finishes what he needs to do, he does not even need to know or remember all your favorite things anymore. All that knowledge will be useless to him in the future.

Crossing his arms against his chest, Aemond huffs haughtily, nostrils flaring. He grimaces; something smells strange in there, and he feels eyes on him. It’s a kid, unabashedly staring at him — or more particularly, his eyepatch. Aemond is sure that the boy is the reason for foul stench also, so he glowers at him, mouth pulled back in the sneer.

He turns to you, about to ask why you enjoy riding on this godforsaken public transit ride, but then his expression lightens when he finds you staring out the window, a sleepy yet faraway look clouding your face. Your brows are furrowed, too deep in thought during such a bumpy ride, for so early in the morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Aemond inquires a bit too softly as if his mouth moved faster than his mind, but it still pulls you out of your haze.

You grin at him, head shaking. “It’s…”

Sighing, you pull out your phone to find something, then once you do, you hand it over to him.

Aemond tries not be bothered by the notifications that keeps popping up —

fellowship of the cool people + theon Jon 🐺— dinner at mine and ____’s tonight??

(Aemond refrains from rolling his eye.)

fellowship of the cool people + theon 🌈MeerMeer 🌼— 👍 — i’ll bring the weed

fellowship of the cool people + theon Robb 🐸— oh hell yeah!

fellowship of the cool people + theon GreyNoJoy 🦑— i’ll bring the best thing… myself 🥰

fellowship of the cool people + theon Margie 🌹❤️— ew

And Aemond focuses on the webpage you pulled up instead.

It is a Poetry Slam competition hosted by one of the best Music and Arts publications in the whole six continents, R'hllor Stone, at the Moon Door Cafe which is close by the Vale U campus. The winner gets a 5k cash prize, a book of their poetry published, and a full double-page feature in the magazine.

And the last day to sign up is… Today, at midnight.

“You haven’t signed up yet, have you?”

“Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’.

After handing you back your phone, Aemond hums for a moment, in thought. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging. “I guess I haven’t been super confident in my latest pieces, so it’s a bit daunting to send it in to be judged.”

“Do you want me to look over it? Give you my honest opinion?”

You make a face. Because hell no . Aemond is the last person you want to be reading your poetry. Mr. Psychology Major will probably psychoanalyze your musings and deem you crazy – or just plain stupid, which is more likely.

“Well if it’s like the one you recently published on the school’s Instagram page, then I think it’s more than adequate.”

You whip your head to stare wide-eyed at him. Shocked. Flabbergasted. Befuddled.

“ You read that?!”

Aemond flushes bright red, like he had not meant to confess that out loud.

“It’s our stop,” He declares to move on from the subject, standing up suddenly to push at the button on one of the handles for the bus to stop.

“Wait, Aemond —”

But he doesn’t wait, knowing you are following behind him.

Aemond gets off the bus first, then turns to offer you his hand to help with the steps.

Aemond can’t help but note how your hand slips so easily into his. So warm against the cold that he finds himself holding onto you a little tighter.

Once you are both off the bus, Aemond glances around, clearly lost. He’s never seen this area of the campus before…

“Yeah… This isn’t our stop. We still had four to go,” You tell him with a snarky chuckle. When he glares at you, you defend yourself quickly, “Hey! I tried to tell you!”

Aemond huffs a bit petulantly then starts to drag you the same direction the bus drove away at.

He also can’t help but note that you let him hold your hand until he walks you to the building of your first class.

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🎵 dreams tonite · alvvays

The call arrives five days later, when you are studying in one of the libraries on campus.

You step away to pick it up, with Aemond raising a brow at you.

(The two of you have been spending a lot of time together. Too much, maybe.

Margaery jokes they’ve all been replaced. Theon says he’s officially your boyfie . Robb tells you to be careful.

You tell them all to mind their business. And that the two of you are NOT dating.

Aemond is just a friend, and nothing more.)

You find a secluded aisle before you answer your phone. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon… Am I speaking to ____ ____?” The sultry voice from the other side asks.

“Yes, speaking…”

“Wonderful. I’m Melisandre, the editor-in-chief for R'hllor Stone—”

“I know who you are!” You squeal, a little too excitedly. You press your fingers to your mouth, eyelids squeezing shut in mortification. “Sorry, I’m sorry… I’ll, um…”

Melisandre laughs. “It’s quite alright! I’m just as excited as you are… I’ve read through your poetry portfolio for the Poetry Slam contest and I’m impressed…”

“You are…?” You ask, voice small and timid.

“I am,” Even through the phone, you can hear her smile. “I called to congratulate you for making it through the next round.”

You gasp. “Really?!” Earning you a shhhh! from someone an aisle over.

She laughs again and reassures you that it’s no joke. Then she informs you that she’ll be sending an email with more details soon — on what the theme will be, the schedule, etc.

“I’m glad Davos told me to look out for you. I can’t wait to meet you in person, ____,” Melisandre says before saying her goodbye and hanging up.

Your mouth drops in shock.

Oh… Your favorite professor will definitely be getting an earful from you… How many times have you gushed the works of Melisandre to him and he never once mentioned she was the friend he was talking about?

Well, an earful after you thank him profusely.

Speaking of saying thanks…

You head back to Aemond, standing by where he sits and motion for him to stand. His gaze is quizzical, so you do it again — your palm up in an upward motion, nodding as your eyes flutter shut with a cute grin.

As if annoyed, Aemond let’s out a soft huff of hot air. But you think you know him at least a little bit better now, and it’s just a front he puts up. You’re starting to believe that his dad is right — that underneath all that cold exterior is a sweet guy deep inside.

And you want to be the one to melt his icy, cold heart.

As a friend, of course .

As soon as he stands, you throw yourself at him, hugging around his tiny waist. He staggers back with an oof! You laugh, jumping back just as quickly as you were on him.

You think you might have broken his brain a bit by the way stares at you with his eye wide and his mouth open dumbly.

“What are you—? What was that—?”

He can’t seem to choose which question to ask, so you save him the trouble and say, “I made it into the Poetry Slam contest. And I hugged you because you were the reason I sent in my application,” with your hand on your hips cocked to the side, you tease, “I figured if your pretentious ass liked my stuff then what am I afraid of?”

Unsure, Aemond says, “You’re welcome…?”

You chuckle, grinning wide. “No, seriously… thank you.”

He wets his lips then smiles too — that genuine smile again. The one you’ve been seeing more and more of each and every day.

“Congratulations,” he says. And is it weird to say you think he looks proud of you?

Unexpectedly shy all of the sudden under his gaze, you start to shift nervously side to side. “Do you… Want to… come watch?”

Then a bit more hurriedly, you prattle on, “You don’t have to or anything! Just – If you’re not doing anything! It’s on a Saturday so you probably have better things to do—“

You stop babbling when Aemond shoves his phone screen your way. It’s on the calendar app, and on the last Saturday of the month, in two weeks, he has it marked off as “____’s poetry slam, @ moon door cafe, 1 PM”.

Feeling thrown, you look away from the screen to meet his eye. “How did you…?”

Shrugging, Aemond puts his phone back into his pocket.

“I guess I had a feeling,” He smirks confidently. “You’re too headstrong to not at least give it a try…” The smirk then shifts into something warmer, his face softening. “And of course I’ll come… I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Aemond looks a little hazy then — like a dream.

And your stomach? Full of stupid butterflies.

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🎵 the start of something · voxtrot

The theme for the competition is Romantic Love.

Which makes sense since the R’hllor Stone cover artist for the issue that the slam poetry winner will be featured in is the pop darling, Luvie — the stage name of Myrcella Baratheon.

Yes, the same Myrcella Baratheon who is the daughter of Cersei Lannister. Weirdly enough, the scandal breaking out didn’t affect her career at all. There was a very brief moment that people were making rumors that her and her brothers were really the children of their uncle, Jaime Lannister, and not their late political figure father, Robert Baratheon. But that was squashed rather quickly. It’s impressive. Luvie has got to have the best PR team ever — people did not even realize she was an industry plant and a nepo baby until two years into her career. But then again, her other uncle, Tyrion Lannister, is also the most prolific lawyer of this time.

Enough about Luvie. If you could, you’d talk about it all day. Probably the worst trait about you — your love for celebrity gossip. You’d eat up a cheating scandal between two married daytime news anchors that committed adultery on their spouses with each other even if you’ve never watched their program even once in your life.

Besides, you don’t have time to dwell on celeb gossip. With the competition coming up and the days rushing by so quickly, you needed all your free time to focus on writing the piece for it.

Only problem is, it’s been awfully hard to come up with something. It’s like there is a block in your mind every time you grab a notebook or open up the notes app on your phone.

You already know the main issue for that…

You’ve never been in love before.

Deep infatuation? Sure.

But love love? Never ever.

And it’s not like you’re a closed off and guarded person. Quite the opposite. You wear your heart on your sleeve. Your love languages are the neediest of the five: physical touch and words of affirmation. You date with the intent of making the relationship become something serious, every single time. And still… nothing.

“It’s so bad ...!” You groan, scratching out another line on the current poem you’ve been working on for the past two days. You read the whole thing over – all five stanzas already written – and deem the whole poem awful. You turn the page to a blank one, needing to start over all over again.

When nothing comes after minutes passing, you let out a resigned sigh, slumping on the wooden stool you’re on and say out loud to the room, “I give up. I’m gonna call Melisandre and tell her to pull me out of the competition.”

The only other person in said room with you snorts. You turn to glare at Meera, who meets your gaze for a second with a grin and then continues to water the plants in the room.

The two of you are at the floral shop Meera works at. You thought a change in scenery would be good for inspiration. Clearly not — not even being surrounded by the flowers that people often associate with love helped with anything.

“I’m serious, Meer!”

“Sure you are…” she playfully indulges with a roll of her eyes. “You’re a little too headstrong to give up that easily.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” You cross your arms, pouting to yourself.

“Cause it’s true,” Meera simply says. She then sets herself at the wooden work table in the back of the room and calls for you to join her. Laying on the table is the ugliest flower you’ve ever seen in your life.

She hands you the little printed out online order sheet. As you read it over, she heads over to the flower buckets to peruse the selections.

“ I request a bouquet with kale, it’s the salad my darling ate on our first date, ” you read out loud, face twisting in disgust after the fact. You eye the purple and green monstrosity on the table, “Ew, how romantic . Does this dude even know how ugly kale is?”

“Probably not,” Meera laughs. She comes back with various bunches of different stems of flowers in her gloved hand. “But I wanted to show you something…”

She picks up the kale first, showing you again. “Horrid, right?”

“Yeah. Ugliest fucker ever.”

Chuckling, Meera starts to trim it. “That may be true, but I need it to be the star of this bouquet and find a way to make it… pleasant on the eyes.”

You hum, nodding as you watch her work.

“Sometimes… Something good can come from nothing… I didn’t have any particular feelings about ornamental kale before but the more I worked with it… The more inspired I became… and then…”

Meera adds one last sprig of baby’s breath to the arrangement.

“There!”

You are in shock… Somehow, Meera managed to make the kale bouquet beautiful — bringing out the purple with white hydrangeas, baby’s breath, and heather. You would even spend money on it yourself. No wonder Robb always goes to Meera for flowers whenever Margaery is mad at him. You tell her all that yourself.

Meera laughs in thanks, then concludes, “So what I’m trying to say is… Pick a subject. Embellish your feelings a little. You don’t really have to be in love or have been in love to write about it… Do you really think Taylor Swift had real and genuine feelings for the Owl City guy when she wrote the masterpiece that is Enchanted?”

You gasp, eyes lighting up — everything clearer to you. “Oh my god! You’re so right!” You sniff then, grabbing a hold of her hand and squeezing it, “Meera… You speak Swiftie now.”

She groans, slapping a palm on her forehead. “You, Sansa, Margaery, and Theon have ruined me.”

You giggle a bit, before your face falls to a pout.

“Who am I supposed to write about though?” You ask with a dramatic and forlorn sigh, going back to your little stool by the cash register.

Meera shrugs, wrapping up the bouquet prettily. “Just someone, anyone… Whoever comes to mind first?”

At her words, you think of a violet eye and a face so taut and sour as if they had just sucked on a lemon.

You laugh to yourself.

Then your pen hits the paper, and the words begin to flow.

Aemond arrives at Moon Door Cafe early when there are plenty of empty seats available, but still sticks to the wall at the back of the room. He already caught sight of your friends at a table near the stage and yet he did not make an effort to greet them. It’s not like they’re his friends, he hasn’t even met any of them formally except for Jon. And he does not want to make fake pleasantries with Jon. There’s just something about the guy he does not like.

So he stays at the back of the cafe until the room fills and the lights go down.

He looks over the pamphlet he was given at the door, and sees that you are the fourth to last to go up out of the 15 contestants. Which means he’ll be here for a while. Aemond frowns in discontent.

He’s not really much for poetry — he’ll devour any form of literature except poetry. Which is funny, considering he has a few written about him in the form of a song.

But he supposes after reading a few of yours… Yours weren’t all too terrible. He can ever dare say he likes a few of them.

So that’s the only reason he’s staying… Just to listen.

He has been curious. He didn’t know you did any spoken poetry, all the ones he has seen of yours were written. But you must have at least some experience with it, one of the requirements for the portfolio was two examples of spoken poetry.

Aemond wonders if you’d be clamorous, if your words will be punctuated with cheerful sarcasm like always.

He grins to himself.

And how about the theme? Romantic love… Who did you write about?

His gaze flits to the front of the room at the man with the dark curly hair and unkempt beard and scowls. He watches him smile wide and snap his fingers for the poet on stage. Then suddenly he stands up, clapping and hooting with the rest of his friends.

That’s when Aemond realizes that you were getting on the stage. He didn’t notice that many performers had gone up already, none of them really held his attention. Until now.

He straightens up a little, snapping his fingers with the rest of the room.

You walk to the mic, confident. If you hadn’t texted him about how nervous you were earlier when he texted you to ‘Break a leg.’, he would have bought the front you were putting up.

You’ve already been introduced by Melisandre, so all you have to do now is just go straight into your poem.

You smile at the crowd, disarming them with your charm, before you take a tentative breath and —

If I could, I'd be your little spoon

And kiss your fingers forevermore

But, big spoon, you have so much to do

And I have nothing ahead of me

There is a song-like cadence to your soft voice, as if you were singing. It draws him in, hanging onto your every word.

You're the sun, you've never seen the night

But you hear its song from the morning birds

Well, I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star

But awake at night I'll be singing to the birds

Aemond is enraptured. Enchanted. Beguiled.

Don't wait for me, I can't come

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I think I do

He had no idea that simple poetry could move him like this.

You're the one

You're all I ever wanted

I think I'll regret this

Your stare is fixed, not on anyone. Just a faraway, melancholy gaze on nothing in particular. It makes you look all the more hauntingly beautiful. Aemond finds himself willing you to look at him.

You don’t.

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I finally do

Instead, when you finish, your gaze flicks to the front of the room with a tender smile — at him .

Aemond feels his chest tighten a little.

The room fills with loud snapping as you descend the stage, and once your feet hit the floor, you are being lifted at the waist and hugged tight by Jon Snow.

Aemond watches on bitterly for a couple more seconds, expression pinching at the way Jon joyfully spins the two of you around, then turns to leave.

He waits at the front of the cafe for his chauffeur, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground.

“You’re really leaving without congratulating me?”

Aemond wets his mouth indignantly. He knew he should have texted Podrick to meet him earlier.

“You haven’t won yet,” Is all Aemond says as he turns to look at you, a smirk curling his lips.

You glare at him, arms crossing against your chest.

“Gods. Are you always such a dick? I know I haven’t won yet… I don’t even think I will win. I meant just… congratulating me for even putting myself up there,” you frown, looking off to the side, trying to blink away the hurt.

Seven Hells , Aemond sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut, can he? He always has a penchant to make everything worse.

Stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, Aemond takes a step towards you. “You were… Amazing up there,” You eye him warily, disbelieving, so he continues, “I mean it… You got me hanging onto your every word. Congrats.”

“Thanks…” You murmur from the corner of your mouth, bashful. It was your turn then to take a step towards him, still glowering at him when you say, “But you didn’t even say hi, and now you’re trying to leave without even saying goodbye.”

“My apologies. I didn’t want to keep you from celebrating with your boyfriend ,” Aemond says, tone clipped.

Did you hear that right, Aemond thinks you have a — “Boyfriend…?”

“You and Jon are dating, aren’t you?”

You’d laugh if it wasn't so ridiculous. “No! Jon’s dating Sansa! And besides that, he’s just my best friend. Wait a second… Did you think we’re dating cause he’s my roommate ?”

“No, but…” Aemond shakes his head, unable to grasp what you are telling him. He already made this whole story up in his head. “You fancy him, don’t you?”

“No!” You almost gag at the thought. Because, ew.

“You don’t have to lie to me, ___,” Aemond scoffs, taking another step towards you. “You find him attractive, don’t you?”

“I mean…” You think about it for a second. Jon’s your best friend and you’ve never had romantic feelings for him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have eyes! And besides, even if you didn’t find Jon attractive, you’re not about to bash his looks for no reason at all. “Have you seen the guy?”

“I have and I’m not impressed,” Aemond tuts with a roll of his eye.

“Maybe it’s because you only have one eye?” The rhetorical question slips from your mouth before you could even stop it.

You are frozen as Aemond’s mouth drops slightly before it closes to press into a hard thin line. He is mad, and understandably so.

“Wait, Aemond, I didn’t mean it like th—”

“So how did you mean it?” In an instant, he is in front of you, nostrils flared. His violet eye alight with a simmering burning, “So I guess it’s because I only have one eye that I find you attractive?”

Your gaze widens and your cheeks are burning up. Did he just…?

That’s when you notice that Aemond looks just as shocked. But only for a second. If he had not meant to say that aloud, the blank look he puts on carefully hides it well. It is the flush high on his cheekbones and the heavy rise and fall of his chest that gives him away though.

You look up at him, keenly aware of his proximity. A warmth spreads through you at how much he towers over you. He can definitely manhandle you in the way that you like. And the way his domineering gaze pinned you to the spot makes you desperately long for him to pin you against a wall instead.

You start to laugh. Loud at that.

Because you realize an undeniable truth…

You want him. Gods. You want Aemond Targaryen.

Even more now that you know he wants you as well.

The admittance makes you laugh more.

And so, with no preamble at all and just straight to the point, you ask him—

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Aemond stares at you like you’re insane.

Then, as if without any doubt in his mind, he says — yes.

a.t.

🎵 there’s a light that never goes out · the smiths

Even though you were the one to ask him out, Aemond offers to plan the date.

You didn’t mind. Between school, work, and stressing about the results of the competition, you were just going to take him to the movies. Which, looking back now, is lame; and you highly doubt you’ll get a second date if you forced Aemond to sit through a movie about a killer AI doll.

So you let him take the reins — surprise me , you told him with a wink after letting him know which days the next two weeks that you’d be free.

Four days after the competition, Aemond surprises you — or maybe more so Theon, who screams out girlishly when Aemond appeared directly behind him when the silver haired man approached you and your friends during lunch in the southern building cafeteria.

Theon still has his hand over his heart, halfway off the bench, but Aemond disregards him to tell you, “I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow for our date. Be sure to be ready.”

Then he saunters off.

“He’s so intense… it’s kinda sexy,” Margaery says.

Your other friends admit their agreement in various degrees of reluctance as you all watch Aemond’s back retreating until he is out of the room.

“Where do you think he’s going to take you?” Sansa asks eagerly, leaning on the table to get closer to you.

You give her an exaggerated shrug as an answer just as Theon comments, “Probably somewhere so fun… The library!”

You successfully shove him off the bench he is still precariously on. He lands on his ass on the floor but he is guffawing at his own joke.

“Nah… He’ll definitely take her to the fanciest restaurant in the Vale, book it all out so it’s just the two of them, and then confess he’s been in love with her since they were 14,” Meera says with a scrunch of her nose. “Real straight people shit.”

“Oh, I know where he’ll take her,” Robb says, straightening up confidently for everyone’s attention. “Into the forest, where there will be a clearing, and then he’ll rip off his shirt to show ____ that he… sparkles.”

Your friends start howling with laughter at that, so loud that students from other tables turn to look. You’re laughing too, but quieter, pouting with both your hands pressed on your face from embarrassment.

“You’re all awful!” You moan. “And you know what?! Maybe I want him to be Edward Cullen, maybe then I can tell him to drain the blood of all my “so-called” best friends!”

“Have fun playing baseball in the forest tomorrow, then,” Jon teases, causing your friends to laugh more.

Sweeping a glare at all of them, you bite out, “I. will. Thank you!”

From Aemond

— Please dress warm and comfortably.

As you read the new text while you are getting ready for the date, a shiver goes down your spine.

Oh Gods.

He is taking you to a forest, isn’t he?

If Aemond is a vampire, you wouldn’t be surprised. But you have seen him growing up, so maybe not.

You groan, shoving off the silky dress you had wanted to wear. It’s so pretty, but you doubt that it will be comfortable or warm enough for a trek through the woods.

So you settle with a white turtleneck under a red cardigan, dark blue jeans, a Sherpa lined shearling leather jacket, and broken-in Docs.

Comfortable, warm, and cute.

You grin at your reflection through the mirror just as you receive another text.

From Aemond

— I’m waiting downstairs.

After giving yourself another once over and grabbing your purse for the day, you text back:

To Aemond

— coming ☺️ !!!

When you step out of your room, three pairs of eyes turn your way, ignoring the Super Smash Bros round they’re playing to annoy you all the way out the door with their comments and shiteating grins.

“You look pretty, ___!”

“Thanks Jon!”

“Have fun and use protection!”

“Take your own advice, Robb!”

“Say hi to your boyfie for us!”

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you, catching the last thing Theon says, “Look! She didn’t even deny it!”

Usually, you’d take the stairs down. Your unit is on the fifth floor (the highest of the building) so it’s not so bad. But you didn’t want to look winded before the date even starts, so the terrifyingly unreliable elevator it is.

Luckily, by the grace of the Sevens, you didn’t get stuck. So you’re a little too chipper when you find Aemond waiting at the lobby — especially since he looks so incredibly handsome in his long black wool coat, cream fisherman sweater, black fitted slacks, and a pair of black leather Chelsea boots.

Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he seems pleasantly delighted when he sees you. Nothing overt, but it’s definitely a change from how he used to be when you got near him before. You remember always sniffing yourself when you were teens, because he acted like you had the strongest BO. You didn’t, you smelled like fresh laundry and maybe on your worst days, fresh cut grass and the sun since you spent a lot of time outdoors when at the Arryn mansion.

You walk to Aemond, and he unclasps his hands from where he held them behind his back to turn fully towards you.

As a greeting, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck that was wrapped in a soft alpaca wool grey scarf.

You can tell Aemond is not used to physical affection by the way he stiffens against you —just like the last time. But you hold on a little longer, liking the bergamot and amberwood smell that lingers on him.

Just when you think you aren't going to get anything back, about to let him go; you feel his arms wrap around your waist. A little loose, enough that when you step back you are easily free from his hold, but it’s a start.

You beam up at him, and he holds your gaze for a bit before he looks off to the side, his cheeks a light scarlet. It’s adorable that he is so easily flustered.

He clears his throat then gives you a glance over. “You look… warm.” He gives a nod of approval. “Good.”

“But do I look…” With a mischievous smile, you poke at his stomach, “… attractive?”

His face darkens to a deeper maroon, pressing his lips together. “You’re really going to hold that over my head, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you tell him a toothy grin. Stuffing your hands into your coat pockets, you start to slowly rock back and forth from your heels to your toes as you sing-song your own confession, “If it makes you feel better… I think you look really good today… My jaw nearly fell to the floor when I saw you.”

Aemond’s hand flies to press against his mouth, coughing into his palms. He might be choking, you have no idea. But you’re sure if he wasn’t blushing before, he would be tomato red right now.

He takes a shaky breath, regarding you as his hand falls back to his side. “How are you always this straightforward?”

You shrug with your mouth downturned. “I have no filter sometimes.”

Aemond lets out an amused huff. At least you know.

His gaze falls over you again, flickering across your features in quiet contemplation for a moment or two.

“You look lovely.”

At his soft tone, your breathing hitches and your mouth slightly parts. He tracks the slow movement, wetting his own lips.

But he does not even give you time to respond, turning to glare at the door to change the subject, “I drove here. Are you alright with taking my car or do I need Podrick to pick it up?”

“I’m not anti-car, or anything. We can drive there,” you tell him with no joking lilt or sassiness in your tone, just even. Perhaps still a bit stunned at his compliment.

“Could have fooled me,” Aemond says, chuckling lightheartedly, his fingers touching the metrocard in his pocket. It’s new. You had dragged him to the nearest bus station after his fourth time riding on one with you. You were beyond exasperated of seeing him stuff a ten or twenty dollar bill into the fare slot since he never has any change or anything smaller for the £3 fare. He has used it quite a lot already, and always only with you, realizing just then how often the two of you have been spending time together.

“Let’s go?” He asks, cocking his head to the door.

When you nod, Aemond presses his hand against the small of your back, leading you outside.

The heat of his palm has you flushing and your stomach doing somersaults, even long after he has taken it off you to hold the door open for you to get into his cream Volvo P1800 S Coupe.

You haven’t felt this nervous for a date in quite a while — and you don’t know whether that’s a good thing or bad thing yet.

Aemond has the prettiest hands.

Delicate and dainty, yet also spans big and strong. Not to mention the veins that run along his hands are mouthwateringly attractive, bulging whenever he grips the leather steering wheel.

He could be a musician if he wanted — or a hand model. You’re sure he’d have a million Twitter fan accounts dedicated to just his hands alone.

Maybe you should have let Aemond drive you around all those times he had offered.

He looks so effortlessly cool as he spins the wheel with just the palm of his hands, checks the rear view mirror, and keeps his concentration on the road.

You have not stopped staring at him.

Maybe you should stop because he is starting to notice. His gaze flickers to the side at you every so often with that usual low humming sound he makes.

In an effort to distract yourself, you lean forward to turn on the radio.

How did you make it so long without music playing in the background?

Oh right. You were too busy admiring Aemond to notice anything else.

The speaker starts blaring and it’s no surprise that Aemond’s stereo system is only of the highest quality. A sweet, melodic voice resounds in the compact space.

— say, "I'm done," but I'm still confused,

How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?

And I change my mind, but it's still on you,

How am I supposed to leave you now —

Aemond is so quick to turn it off that your mouth parts slightly in mild shock.

“We’re here,” is what he says when you glance over at him, and he is pulling his car onto a parking spot beside the curb of a cobblestones sidewalk.

You let out a laugh, “Oh my god. I was about to ask what did Luvie do to you by how aggressively you turned off the radio!”

“My bad,” he says with a wan grin before getting out of his car.

He’s at your side of the car, opening the door, before you even get the seatbelt off.

“Thanks,” you say, taking his hand to step out. While Aemond pays for parking, you take a look around at where he brought you for the date.

Elation spreads through you as you take in the quaint area with the brick warehouse buildings, pretty stringed lights hanging from street lamps to street lamps, and all beautiful street art spray painted on the walls. It’s the Distillery Village, a hip part of the city just a bit a ways away from the heart of downtown Vale.

You used to love going here when you were younger. But now, not so much. It’s still beautiful there, but it has become a hot date spot for young couples over the years. And it’s not like you really had any partners that you had gotten serious enough to want to take there, less they ruin your fond memories of the place.

You remember going here a few times with the Targaryen family. You wonder if Aemond remembers that too.

“Ready?” Aemond asks, walking towards you.

Smiling, you nod, your hand reaching to catch a hold of two of his fingers.

Aemond pulls away, making your heart stutter dolefully — only for him to intertwine his fingers between yours, his hold firm yet gentle. You flutter your lashes at him, questioning, and he shrugs. “More comfortable this way.”

The two of you walk around like that, hand in hand and with a cup of coffee in the other.

(Aemond ordered for you. He has your latte order perfected now, and you have his. You had him pegged as a Sunspearino kind of guy – black with no sugar – but surprisingly, Aemond has a sweet tooth. He likes his cappuccino with two pumps of caramel.)

You are having a nice time with Aemond. Window shopping, trying out desserts from every cute spot you pass, taking time to admire all the art in the area.

Maybe it’s his hands holding yours, but your nerves eased quickly and you are back to your old self in no time.

Perhaps too comfortable. You are talking Aemond’s ear off about the fluffiness of the cream puff the two of you just had, when you realize he hasn’t said much in the past few minutes. So you abruptly stop to glance wearily towards Aemond, somewhat afraid that you are boring or annoying him with your incessant yapping, but you find his fond gaze already on you.

“I’m glad you’re back to being yourself again,” Aemond says, still leading you on the cobblestone path. “I was worried earlier. You were too quiet in the car.”

“I was nervous!” You confess a bit too shrilly.

“Oh?” The light smile that was on Aemond’s face twists into a cocky smirk. “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “ Was nervous… Past-tense, Aemond.”

The smirk is still on his lips when he replies with a playful and disbelieving mmhmm .

You turn away, laughing to yourself. You’re happy that he is joking around with you more, it makes you feel that the two of you are really starting to get closer.

You end up stopping at the busiest part of the village, where most couples and families conjugate at the plaza square, sitting on the steps that surround a huge reflecting pool. In the warmer months, the shallow pool is a pretty fountain to look at for outdoor picnics; but in the winter, it is frozen over as a skating rink.

Leaning your arms against the railing that surrounds the top of the steps, you watch the ice skaters with stars in your eyes.

You had once wanted to be a professional figure skater because of Val, the Free Folk figure skater that stole the heart of the entire nation when you were younger, when she competed and won all the singles figure skating titles during her first Harrenhal Winter Games.

Your father even paid for ice skating lessons after you begged your parents for weeks to learn. You were over the moon, telling everyone who would listen about it, about how you are going to be the next Val. Your dreams were crushed after a certain 16 year old teenage boy scoffed, “No, you won’t.’ when he overheard you telling his sister.

Remembering this, you whip your head to glare at your date.

Aemond startles at your sudden heated expression, eye widening.

“Do you… Want to go skating?” He asks, unsure.

You turn your nose up at him, grimacing. “Yes. I do.”

Now you truly remember why you didn’t become the next top figure skater and quit your lessons after the 4th class… You sucked at it.

For some reason, your body does not agree with the skates. You’re always off-kilter, that you spent the first ten minutes clutching onto the railings instead of skating.

Aemond, on the other hand, is a natural on the ice — so graceful it’s envious. If you did not know he is from the south, he would have definitely earned the title of ‘Ice Prince’ this way like some sort of Northern Royalty.

He watches as your wobbly legs try to catch up to him in mirthful silence. The bastard looks like he is going to burst out laughing at any given second.

With brows furrowed together, he asks, “Didn’t you take lessons?”

“I quit after four classes…” You tell him through clenched teeth, shaky arms out in front of you to keep your balance.

“Why?” Is the asshole’s next question.

Burning him with a glare that can rival a thousand suns, you wave your hands from your head to your waist, presenting him yourself, shaking precariously like a newborn giraffe. The motion has you slipping and hurriedly catching yourself with a choked out ‘ whoa!’ . You don’t even know how that happened — you are not even moving!

And that did it, Aemond couldn’t hold it in anymore, he laughs so hard that he is throwing his head back.

You sneer at him, and it makes him laugh more.

“I’m — I’m s– so sorry,” he tries, but he is still laughing, so it doesn’t feel very genuine to you. If you could cross your arms, you would. But that would throw you off your balance more, so you just give him a stink face, nose scrunched and mouth pursed in distaste for his lack of common courtesy.

“You’re such an as–” Suddenly, you are slipping again except you couldn’t steady yourself fast enough. But before you could hit the ground, Aemond swiftly wraps his arms around you and catches you. So easily, like he had at the party.

You straighten up quickly, still embarrassed, muttering a thank you under your breath. “You’re still an asshole though.”

Aemond licks his lips, lets out a laugh and nods briefly in acceptance. “Let me make it up to you.”

Aemond takes both your hands in his, and then carefully, he helps you get your footing right, skating backwards as he guides you along the ice. It takes a while, but you think you are getting a hang of it. It’s unbelievable but half an hour with Aemond has taught you more than those 4 lessons you took.

Soon enough, he is only holding one of your hands, skating by your side.

“I guess I’m a better ice skating teacher than you are a dancing instructor,” Aemond declares pompously.

That has you snorting in an unattractive manner. “So you admit you suck at dancing?”

Aemond huffs out a chuckle, walking right into that one.

The turns are the trickiest parts. And as soon as you saw the edge of the rink coming up, you nervously fuck up your footing. Nothing too bad since the two of you were skating at a rather slow pace, but it did cause Aemond to pick up his speed a little so he can turn for you to crash against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

In his warm embrace, you peer up at him under fluttering lashes. Aemond is already looking down at you with a hooded gaze. He has you feeling breathless and flushed.

You have his rapt attention when your pink tongue peeks out to lick your lips in anticipation.

You don’t notice him leaning in though, not when you feel something wet and cold touch your forehead.

Looking up, that’s when you notice it, the fluffy white snowflakes falling from the clear blue sky. It is the first snowfall of the year.

You let out an elated laugh, smiling wide, lifting a hand to catch a snowflake on your fingertips.

Aemond then gently grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing your attention back at him.

You let out a soft, little gasp.

He is staring at you like you are something so precious. There is so much fondness in his violet eye that your heart feels like it's going to burst with happiness.

Then as if in slow motion, you watch as a tiny, pretty snowflake lands on the dip of his lower lip.

You lean up to melt it against yours as well.

With a pleased hum, Aemond’s hold on your waist tightens, while his hand on your chin slides back to cradle your neck, kissing you deeper. He has your mouth parting with a moan, and his tongue slips in easily. He tastes like caramel, espresso, and vanilla; so addicting in a way that you think you can definitely get used to this.

Aemond’s mouth on yours has you lifting up your foot behind you, like you’re a princess in a cheesy romantic comedy. Embarrassingly giddy as if he is the first and only boy you had ever kissed.

And when you feel him smile against your lips, you start wishing that he’ll at least be the last.

a.t. 💗

🎵 to you · mallrat

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #hotd

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boopshoops · 2 months

Text

TWST OC INTRODUCTION - TCOAV

Joel Bullion - Makings of Greatness

Name: Joel Bullion

Nicknames: Buzzbait, Thistle

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/they

Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual

Birthday: November 30 (Sagittarius)

Age: 39 (In canon and AU)

Height: 6'2 or 188cm

Voice Claim(s): Jellzybelle

Twisted from: John Silver from Treasure Planet.

Unique Magic: "Rattle the Stars" Summons exactly that in the palm of Joel's robotic hand: a star. However, this is not just any star, this star's life flashes before your eyes, resulting in a controlled supernova. It creates a burning hot flash bang, with tremors forming cracks in the ground depending on the magnitude of the star itself. The explosion knocks enemies away from Joel. The size of the star dictates how much magic they will use, as well as how much blot he will accumulate. He is unsure what the maximum size of a star he can create is, but he does know that he has gotten dangerously close to overblotting while trying. In his current state, the blast is not deadly and primarily works to stun opponents or, at most, render them unconscious.

Grade: Teaches Freshman, Sophomores, and Juniors

Class: Teaches Culinary Crucible, Astrology, and Tech. Occasionally aids with Physical Education.

Hobbies: Treasure hunting, finding constellations, hiking, traveling, spelunking, deadlifting, cooking.

Likes: Pernil, old school tech, adventure novels, hard cash, or anything he can sell for gold really, pranking Ezra and Crowley, telescopes, planetary science, zodiac signs.

Dislikes: Grading (this man should not be a teacher), any dish with fish in it, sticklers, staying still, overt formality, the cold, humorless individuals.

Fears: Immobility, optometric illnesses, not amounting to anything, not living his life to the fullest, birds.

Summary: "Why does he even teach?" is a question that crosses the mind of almost every NRC student in one of Joel's classes. He's shameless, sarcastic, and finds entertainment in messing with students and staff alike. Teaching is only a side job for him, his real passions lie elsewhere. Nonetheless, he is highly skilled in a variety of subjects, making him indispensable.

He abuses that privilege, of course, taking the time to have as much fun as he can in what he calls a boring dump of a school and make sure everyone around him suffers for it. Though this usually just amounts to light teasing and pranks. They do not behave like an educator or mentor. He does not typically enjoy interacting with most of his students in a serious manner, and the ones they do enjoy talking with are treated more like casual, distant friends.

With the responsibility of teaching so many subjects heavy on their shoulders, he does make plenty of time to shrug it off to work on his true dream: getting as rich as possible. Now, now, there are plenty of figures at NRC who want that, yeah? But Joel wants the lottery. He wants to struggle, look high and low, and come out above everyone with something ancient, shiny, and, hopefully, covered in expensive jewels. Over everything and everyone, they enjoy the hunt of it. To the point where he values it above people and relationships. Hell, they'd fly to the moon to get it if they had to.

Outfit Inspiration

Author's Notes: JOEL. Ahhh Joel. I'll admit, this was harder to write compared to the others! Everyone else's development, personality, struggles, etc. came very naturally to me, while, with joel, I really had to sit and brainstorm for awhile. Though, I can now say that he has grown on me a lot, and I plan on giving him more of a role in TCOAV like Ezra! I have lots of plans for him! Old ass man <33 (affectionate, /j) this will probably be the last new TCOAV oc for a while! But just know, there will be more >:)

Tag list! v

@lowcallyfruity @kitwasnothere @distant-velleity @thehollowwriter @justm3di0cr3

@skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher

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tallsc · 10 months

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Hello fellow QSMP Tumblr people, I would like to make a offer and would love to see if this can catch on.

If we're adopting A1, let's go all out. We're taking care of this kid.

At least three times a week, someone on Tumblr, under the "qsmp a1 tasks" tag, should draw or write something about A1 doing at least one of the official tasks for that day or the prior few days (cause I know it takes time to draw or write). It doesn't have to be huge, could be anything from a sketch to a full picture or comic, from a few sentences to a full short story, as long as it appears under the tag and has something to do with A1 and one of the recent tasks! (Please say somewhere what task you're doing and what day it was from.)

A1 doesn't mind what name you use - Ai, Aaron, Ivan, just A1, something else entirely - as long as you still use the right tag so everyone can see that there's been a task completed. They also use any pronouns and have a whole wardrobe of accessories, again as long as it's clear in the art or story that the egg is A1 and not one of the other eggs.

Feel free though to include yourself or your OCs or one of the QSMP members or none or all of them, this is just a series of writing/drawing prompts with a purpose, go wild and have fun!

Due to it being Saturday already, required tasks won't start until this Monday. After that, let's see how long we can keep our community's new kid going!

Updates account

If anyone would like to translate this into any of the other three languages, I will gladly add the translations to this post and credit you for doing so. I want to make this visible and accessible to as many people as possible.

Translations below (French by @lb1412, Portuguese by @aurora-bore-aura)

Portuguese:

Oi pessoal do QSMP Tumblr, eu queria fazer uma oferta e eu adoraria ver se isso irá se espalhar mais.

Se a gente tá adotando A1, vamos com tudo. A gente vai cuidar dessa criança.

Três vezes por semana pelo menos, alguém no Tumblr, na tag "qsmp a1 tasks", tem que postar um desenho ou escrever sobre A1 fazendo uma das tarefas oficiais daquele dia ou uns dias antes (porque eu sei que leva tempo pra fazer arte). Não precisa ser muito, pode ser um esboço(sketch) pra um desenho completo ou quadrinho, de algumas frases para uma pequena história completa. Que precisa é ao menos aparecer na tag e ter relação com A1 e as tarefas recentes! (Por favor diga em algum lugar que tarefa se tá fazendo e que dia foi ela)

A1 não tem preferência com o nome ou pronome que você usar — Ai, Aaron, Ivan, só A1, algum outro que se faça — desde que você ainda use a tag dita pra que todo mundo veja que tarefa foi feita. Além de liberdade de pronomes ele tem um armário cheio de acessórios, então por favor deixe claro em algum lugar da sua arte ou história que o ovo é o A1 e não um dos outros.

Sinta-se livre pra incluir você, ou um dos seus personagens, ou um dos membros do QSMP, ou ninguém, ou todo mundo acima. Isso aqui é só uma série de sinopses para desenhar/escrever com um propósito, se solta e se divirta!

Como já é sábado, as tarefas necessárias não vão aparecer até segunda-feira. Depois da revelação, vamos ver por quanto tempo podemos manter a nova criança da comunidade!

French:

Salut les fans du QSMP, j'ai une proposition à vous faire et j'adorerais voir si ça peut devenir concret.

Quitte à adopter A1, sortons le grand jeu. On va s'occuper de cet enfant.

Il faudrait qu'au moins trois fois par semaine, quelqu'un sur Tumblr dessine ou écrive quelque chose où A1 fait au moins l'une des tâches officielles du jour ou de l'un des jours précédents (parce que je sais que dessiner ou écrire, ça prend du temps), et le poste sur le tag "qsmp a1 tasks". Pas besoin de faire quelque chose d'y mettre énormément d'efforts, ça pourrait être n'importe quoi, d'un croquis à une illustration ou BD complète, de quelques phrases à une courte histoire complète, tant que c'est posté dans le tag et que ça a un lien avec A1 et l'une des tâches récentes ! (S'il vous plaît, notez quelque part de quelle tâche vous vous chargez et le jour auquel ça correspond.)

Peu importe quel nom vous utilisez pour A1 (Ai, Aaron, Ivan, juste A1, ou même un tout autre nom), cela ne lea dérange pas tant que vous utilisez le bon tag pour que tout le monde puisse voir qu'une tâche a été accomplie. Iel utilise n'importe quels pronoms et possède toute une galerie d'accessoires, tant, encore une fois, qu'il est clair dans le dessin ou l'histoire qu'il s'agit d'A1 et pas d'un autre œuf.

Sentez-vous libre de vous inclure vous, vos OCs, l'un des membres du QSMP, tous les membres, ou même aucun, ce ne sont qu'une série de prompts de dessin/d'écriture avec un but précis, faites-vous plaisir et amusez-vous bien !

Puisqu'on est déjà samedi, les tâches nécessaires ne compteront pas avant lundi. Après ça, essayons de voir combien de temps la communauté peut maintenir notre nouvel enfant en vie !

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp a1 tasks #qsmp aaron #qsmp ai #art prompt #writing prompt #time to test this social experiment and see how much we've all pack bonded with anything egg-shaped

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prinzrupprecht · 6 months

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Counter argument to those that are complaining about sexualizing anime high school characters

Why are people now crying about writers sexualizing school kids in anime? It’s fiction, they’re not real. Anime is not real. Finding a minor character in a show attractive, doesn’t make the reader or the writer a pedophile. Actually, the term pedophile has been loosely thrown around way too much. It’s a psychiatric disorder when a person has a strong attraction to pursue or try to engage with pubescent children below the age of 13. This is completely different to liking a character that is not real. Hate, disagree with this all you want. Liking or having a crush on underaged fictional characters isn’t comparable at all to pursuing/sexualizing minors in real life. People need to stop comparing the two. Fiction doesn’t equal reality at all. I couldn't care less what authors/writers do as long as we all can understand the difference between fiction and reality. For the longest time, I had a huge crush on Manjiro and I thought he was 18, but turns out he was 16. A lot of the time they don’t look or even act their age. Hidden inventory 16 y/o Gojo fanfics are insanely popular on wattpad/AO3 and he barely even looks like he aged from 16 to 28. There's also so much r34 art of Zero Two and Marin Kitagawa. It’s pen and ink. So who cares?

“Omg tHaT’s a cHilD yOu sIcK fuCkS.”

Some people here don’t seem to understand Japanese culture and it speaks loud and clear. Do these “anime” high school characters act or look like a child? No. Does Yuji/Megumi/Yuta look like a shota? No. They have bodies of an adult and don’t even look like or act like children. Also, liking underaged fictional characters doesn’t mean we are attracted to children / minors in real life. Stop with that shit. A lot of Mangakas sexualize their minor characters. It’s normal in their culture. So that makes Japanese weird too? Nah stfu, let the Japanese cook. I’m guessing the minority that are crying about it are probably pissy Americans that can’t seem to accept that it’s normal in someone else’s culture and many others to like the looks of fictional 2D drawings of characters that don’t look like real humans. All it is, is just art. None of it is real.

It may seem wrong to you, but it is normal to others. Especially those who’ve been writing fanfiction for years on Wattpad and AO3. There’s millions of fanfics of “underaged characters x OC/Readers” which has been normalized already for decades because people can separate their fictional fantasies from real life. Age doesn’t exist in fiction when you can change it in your fan made content. Authors can change the age of the characters too in their fanfics/one shots. There’s been countless of people making High school AUs of Gojo x reader/OC fan made content surfacing Wattpad and AO3.

Some of y’all be reposting Geto x reader smut, & Sukuna x reader smut and they are mass murderers, child murderers, Geto is a racist, and Sukuna is cannibal and arguably a rapist. Would you fuck a child murderer in real life? Y’all be having fantasies of these characters. Majority of Sukuna smut on here is him using a “minor’s” body to fuck the brains out with the reader and that’s somehow better than people finding Yuji or Megumi attractive? Relax. It’s just fantasies we all have, they’re not real.

Anime characters are 2D drawings, so no, I don't consider finding anime girls/boys attractive equivalent to finding young real-life girls/boys attractive. No more than being attracted to drawings with absurdly disproportionate eyes means you like humans whose eyes take up half their skull. It's just an art style. That’s the whole point of fiction, it’s just fantasies as long as you don’t act on those same thoughts in reality who gives a shit. I would never like minors irl, so ffs call me a pedo for liking anime characters or disagree with me. Idc.

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 7 months

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helloooo have a messy scribble page of oc concepts. unfortunately, im in love and will now proceed to ramble At Length

but before that! rudimentary height chart!

all i know rn is Mairy - the cow - is about the same height as Howdy/Barnaby/Poppy (around 8ft), Hettie & Daisy are in the Wally/Julie/Sally category (around 3ft), and Jesterly is more Frank/Eddie (around 4ft). Derry Drake is fuckoff huge, and Casey is... idk really. tall but not That tall

so. rambles. i... have those, yeah

Mairy Love - she/her - lesbian a gorgeous white/blue cow! originally she was gonna be pink/white, but blue/white is my favorite color combo and honestly? it's dairy colors to me. she's big! she's strong! she's very gentle and sweet but also takes shit from no one, even though she doesn't like confrontation much (unless its playful roughhousing! jokes fly completely over her head! i'm thinking she tends to a lovely orchard of various fruit trees, and probably cultivates some crops for fun as well. maybe seasonal ones? pumpkins for the spooky season, fir trees for those snowy days, etc.

Casey J. Mittens - he/him - aro this orange fella is scaredy cat central! unfortunately for him, he's also curious to a fault! curiosity killed the cat, and he fears the day that rings true for him! he'd rather curl up at home or in a cozy tree, crocheting something cute from one of his many balls of yarn than do anything else. he tries to be a voice of reason, but is too easily convinced otherwise. he's that friend who says "we shouldn't be doing this" as he wholeheartedly assists in the shenanigan in question.

Hettie (currently undecided) - she/her - bi true to her honeybee heritage, Hettie is a florist! she boasts an impressive array of flowers that she tends to like her life depends on it. she's always running around to make sure they're all getting the best care - and she's always checking in on her pals to make sure they're taken care of, too. she's a busy bee who wouldn't know a day's rest if it stung her on the ass! It takes a lot to make her mad, but everybody better watch out when her wings start buzzing

Daisy Hop - she/him - pan i actually created Daisy as a supplementary character for a certain au, but realized i could find a place for her in this little group. i'm thinking he runs a little shop - a roadside stall, more like - where she can both sell her own homemade candy & his friends' stuff! she's the only one in the group that can keep up with Hettie's energy, and even surpass it at times. though unlike Hettie, Daisy knows how to take (and appreciate) a break!

Jesterly - whatever/is/funniest - Derry a menace. they love pranks above all else, oftentimes at the expense of others. he's always up to something and is never not scheming something! there's always Someone to bother! in all honesty she's more like an annoying stray cat that no one can get rid of... and they better not try, or they'll face the wrath of this fool's Very large partner! The jester's cap never comes off, and neither does the mask!

Derry Drake - they/them - Jesterly there's no sugarcoating it - Derry is a big lazy grump! it's almost impossible to get them out of their cave, or off of any place they decide to nap. the only thing that can reliably get them moving is the promise - or prospect - of food. it's a wonder how they've accumulated such a hoard of random things in the back of their cave, seeing as they rarely get up at all. they're incredibly nearsighted and bite first, ask questions later - after all, who knows if the colorful blob in front of them is food or not! better to be safe than hungry!

currently in my mind they have their own little community deep in the woods. Daisy lives in a modified burrow, Maisy has a cute farmhouse, Casey lives in a cozy treehouse, Hettie has a small cottage, and Derry & Jesterly live in a cave. within their community, they share practically everything. want a snack? pluck something from the orchard. need a new pair of mittens? ask Casey! i suppose you could say they're communists <3 (except for Daisy. she won't charge his friends, but anyone else is free game)

Mairy and Hettie have romantic tension, Daisy and Derry are the only ones who can tolerate Jes, Mairy wants Jes dead, Casey is terrified of Derry, Daisy's rapid-fire speech confuses everyone but Hettie, etc. i should make a chart for funsies...

#if i want to get realllly out of my comfort zone #i could talk about how my brain automatically started going 'ok this is how they interact with The Neighbors'#but i think. ill save that for now #listen listen for my whole life ive always kept my fan-ocs expressly separate from canon characters #i either put them far away from the action or in a different point in time entirely #but i can. i can have fun? with this maybe? its just a silly side thing... im playing with dolls...#i have Thoughts...#scribble salad #wh oc #welcome home oc #mairy will sometimes crush Difficult To Crush things to intimidate choice people #she's intimidating and she knows it! she'd rather be nice but sometimes a bitch has to get smacked #mairy: im a pacifist #mairy: *loading shotgun* however-#derry often steals casey's yarn for their own hoard #so casey has to go steal it back (or ask for it. either way derry makes a fuss)#I LOVE THEM. FUCK #i dont need any more ocs please... i already have several hundred...

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aimasup · 3 months

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just found some Valiant AU development sketches and notes in my old OLD sketchbook

I really thought it would be a webtoon

long post warning! And I mean long looooooooong post. If you get to the bottom and go "I'm not reading allat" I do not blame you

more under the cut:

^^^ OC

General notes:

This Valiant AU was meant to be a solarpunk superhero slice of life that slowly reveals a heavier plot, mostly focusing on character interactions and personal growth

White Hat Incorporated is a struggling, newbie business and clients are rare

The episodes can range from domestic shenanigans like fixing a leaking pipe or getting dinner, to running their business by defeating the villain of the week

The villains and heroes stay in their roles from canon. The only ones with major changes are our main 4 guys

All major information about White Hat would be discovered from the point of view of Lumencia and Zug as they realize that not only is PEACE corrupt, but that their boss is neither human nor demon nor alien

Now onto the characters themselves:

Dr. Zug Gleis

Like his name suggests, he likes trains. His train is also a drill that was an attempt to burrow out of government's arrest

Which he then modified into a laboratory, each train cart being a unique kind of laboratory for surveillance, medicine, etc. He sleeps very uncomfortably in cramped spaces and likes it that way

V.I.R.U.S is now a software he created and repurposed into his bratty computer assistant, now Cambot. She's also the one recording all their commercials and making his coffee. Basically Zug doesn't get along with ANY of his children

He doesn't like to leave his laboratories, so he set up a network of tunnels through White Hat's mansion that send and receive messages, inventions, food, etc. There's one little chute for these in most parts of the place

His arc was focusing on his inability to accept help from others because he sees any kind gesture as a possible way to control him. Even worse if the kind person genuinely means it, because he also sees accepting kindness as a handicap, a debt

His villainy was an easy way to make money and show the world his capability without any assistance from any hero or villain organization

Really, he just wants to be able to do whatever he wants, but his need to be the best or else he's the worst is tiring for him. Anger issues don't help

This stemmed from a past of constantly being bullied and compared to his brother, Goldheart

After dropping out of hero college, Zug became his own supervillain's known as The Mad Condoctor, whose theme was, you guessed it, trains. He stole trains, modified scrap metal, targeted stations and trade centers, held hostages, prepared puzzles for heroes to solve, etc

The Mad Condoctor was notorious for being uncooperative and a backstabber. He operated at night and was an expert in secret missions, spyware and tech-based combat and the likes

By the first season finale he would have genuinely cared for his coworkers but still didn't value his own life, so he let himself be taken in by PEACE. The crew have to go retrieve their idiot and many things about White Hat Incorporated are revealed to the public after they clash with their local PEACE headquarters

He finds authority annoying and hates seeing people kiss up. Mostly shameless in his actions and doesn't much care for other people's opinions. Can be honest to the point of hurting

So he is a terrible liar. It's like he's allergic to it or something. Prefers to lie by omission

Will only call White Hat 'sir' and 'jefecito' sarcastically or to get a point across. Unfortunately hopelessly devoted to him at the end of the series whoops

Lumencia

A superwoman with horse-like powers that decided to choose unicorns as her motif because that's way cooler. She has kicks and punches that convert her diet into energy, which is great because she loves eating

Changed it up so that Lumencia is the resident prankster and WH tells puns, not the other way around

She has a room with a slanted ceiling which she can climb out the window of to lie and chill on the roof. She's also converted that space, where flat roof meets slanted roof, into an outdoor cinema/gym, decorated with christmas lights. The mansion is a three-way clash of decorative styles from afar

She doesn't have a license to be a hero, but she helps out wherever she can anyway, stopping purse snatchers and helping lost children find their parents and such

In fact, she is actually one of the most beloved people in the little town they live near, with many residents familiar with her buffoonery but affirming her as a reliable source of help

She's also relatively well-known online, as she posts videos of her playing the guitar and well-intentioned but nonsensical 'Lumencia Tips', filled with terrible puns and comic-like ballpoint pen doodles

Her arc would have focused on letting herself acknowledge her strengths that aren't related to fighting

Shes very buddy-buddy with petty criminals and shop owners alike, able to strike up a conversation and make pals no matter who they are. Once she deems you chill, you can chill, yknow? This isn't on purpose.

Even though she has gross taste in food and is messier than Zug, her handwriting is very pretty and neat. She also is very good at graffiti and sticks to an aesthetic, with glitter and y2k stickers and denim-clad wizards on skateboards, all the works

She has a very straightforward view on heroics and is not big on plans, preferring to punch her way out of situations or annoy her enemies to tears. In fact, her main goal is to become an official part of one of the many PEACE-brand hero leagues.

There's other hero corporations too but PEACE is the number one in America

So one day she just showed up on White Hat's doorstep and never left because it would 'look good on her resume'.

Previously, she bounced from place to place, relying on connections and the occasional tip from her halfway-illegal heroism efforts to get by. She also doesn't remember where her powers are from, only that her parents worked at PEACE and where killed by 'villains' when she was a little girl

Her favourite place is the funfair because that's the last nice memory she had

By season two she would have started another arc where she learns that she was an experiment and her parents were killed by their own higher ups in PEACE to silence them, and she has to come to terms with why she even wants to be a hero as well as stand her ground when her optimism is challenged.

Lumencia's music is like whatever Equestria Girls and Electric Mayhem have going on. I think the genre is power pop? Either way it sounds like those elaborate 80s radical van murals look

Is an effortless liar in the sense that she says the most batshit things with utmost confidence and treats consequences like an afterthought.

Only calls White Hat 'White Hat' and not 'boss' when she feels the situation calls for it. Also unfortunately hopelessly devoted to him by the end of the series

624

An extra set of hands that cleans the place and helps out with their little business. Does not like being interuppted when listening to music

Goes from 'fucking hate these guys' to 'they give me food therefore they are mine' in the span of the entire series

Quite lazy, plays the winning side. Which is usually the heroes here

Dunno if I'd call his arc an arc. All I know is there's an episode where his spoilt teenager-ismd hits their peak and Zug and Lumencia have to reach an understanding with him by respecting his boundaries and helping him feel secure

And after that episode, 624 stopped being a total catalyst for disaster plotwise

White Hat

He is one of the comic reliefs and manages White Hat Incorporated, often making really stupid decisions because profit is not on his mind

The final voice I settled on for him was fucking Australian Markiplier

His "growth" would be the characters and readers seeing him to actually be a caring, experienced-in-heroics-but-not-business individual who gives really sound advice and becomes a source of comfort for his close friends

But is still a MEGA-PRICK. Every time he gets beat up it's for a valid reason

In canon, villainy triumphs because Black Hat is there. In the Valiant AU, the story is in the heroes' favour because White Hat is in his place.

I wanted him to be (mostly) opposite to Black Hat in many ways! BH's office is huge, minimalistic, corporate and cold, while WH's office is small, maximalistic, filled with sentimental items and like a warm cabin.

BH basks in hellfire and while WH does use fire, he prefers the ocean. BH enjoys golf, WH enjoys dancing. BH takes himself seriously, WH very much doesn't. BH detests everything, WH has an appreciation for everything. And etc...

They're still horrible creepy eldritch monstrosities, the fish theme for WH is just because he likes ocean shit and fish are scary

BH has made himself known globally and universally, he has statues and monuments and paintings

WH has nothing; White Hat is five years old. This is his first time being White Hat

But he's been around since the beginning of time, taking many forms and names, learning the wonders of the universe and giving all of his time to help however he could

He believed this to be natural, he's the one of a kind who doesn't need rest or food. He can't die or get really hurt, and would later learn he couldn't bear to love either

Some of the things he was included many plants and animals before the humans, then farmers and warriors, witches and politicians, an entertainer vigilante, a writer, a parent, a fur-clad warrior in the snow, guiding forces of nature, and a female pirate.

I wanted him to cycle through the entire alignment chart in terms of morality as he exhausted everything he could do to make a difference

After World War 2 on earth, his psyche gave out and he collapsed into a long, long nap; a shadow pooling in a lake, his favourite

Finally woke up and decided to take his own form not based on any species or star or tree, chose his own outfit and everything

And made his debut as White Hat, forged documents to start a small business for heroes support

He doesn't have an arc, but if he did, he would be in the midst of learning to let himself get attached again and be properly selfish. Maybe identity issues.

But he doesn't have an arc

And so really only serves to help out Zug and Lumencia. He's comfortable with no one knowing these things about him ever, because what would they even do if they did?

Wouldn't change anything, they wouldn't understand the full scope even, so he's at peace with himself right now, grateful that he's alive for once

He uses manipulation to direct conversations away from himself and get people to spill their feelings, or burrow into their trauma without using magic

if he wants he can let loose to trigger some kind of indescribable primal instinct within a person, that cripples them with terror and despair and love for the sublime face of something divine, bigger than the observable universe. He doesn't like doing this.

He's a fan of ice and shadow manipulation, he thinks the colours go well with his coat

Most animals hate him and he cries about it

He also cries when he tries to download an app on a laptop

He is a competent medical doctor, babysitter, and waiter. In fact, he seems to have infinite patience and calm when he isn't whining over dessert like a toddler

The human skeleton hanging in his office is real

Hopelessly attached to Lumencia, Zug and 624 by the end of the series but they don't need to know that

This AU will forever make me warm and fuzzy inside I love them so much, I had so many locations planned, started Pinterest boards and shit

Instead I think I'll take some of these things and apply them to my OCs instead! HUGE thanks to everyone who enjoyed this version of this AU while it lasted! Maybe it'll come back one day, maybe not. Likely not

#my post #my art #art from last year #villainous valiant!au #villainous heroic!au #villainous #villainous hbo max #villainous cn #miss heed #white hat #dr zug gleis #lumencia #624 #long post #not tagging all these characters

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bucknastysbabe · 4 months

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Sleepover Challenge - C.Cole

Prompts

20: “take off your clothes” 77: “want help with that”

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Criston likes to make his insane Targ gf jealous, toxic couple, jealousy, self depreciation, couple’s spats as foreplay, world building, au Criston ditches to Essos with a diff Targ, pnv!sex, rough sex, degredation kink, erotic choking, talkin bout FEELINGS, fluffy toward the end

A/N: I used an OC (random timing I know) but she’s Aemond’s twin. To make a long mf story short: they ditched the war and went to Essos to start a mercenary company. If you enjoy two toxic insane people there’s more of them on my page xoxo

Taglist: @bambitas @valeskafics @fairysluna @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @targaryenbarbie @sugarpoppss2

Thanks and shoutout to @targaryen-dynasty ❣️

The princess narrowed her eyes, calculating how many ways she could kill her other half. Skysinger flew overhead, blending in with the clouds. Valaerys knew they would have to take shit jobs to build a credible reputation. Currently their company ranks included Criston, a Qohorik bowman, a pair of exiled Northern hedge knights, and the once enslaved pit fighter from Astapor. Not a bad crew. Especially when one has a dragon.

This particular entourage was idiotic. She could’ve hoisted the Volantene quim onto the dragon and be done with it. There, the dainty little thing was dropped off in in Braavos. But no. Criston insisted on the gold they would get protecting the passage of Volantene Triarch’s daughter as she traveled to Braavos to meet a sea-lord’s son.

Valaerys Targaryen didn’t like the girl at all. She was vapid and moony eyed for her lover. Criston, the cunt, seemed to enjoy the attentions— smiling and regaling the girl’s questions in fine Valyrian. He picked up the language quite well, surprisingly. Bastard Valyrian dialects weren’t so stiff on pronunciations.

The travel was long and agitating, boring truly. Criston and Valaerys’ small company only slaughtered some weak bandits near old Rhoynar ruins. They traveled on the black Valyrian roads, all on horses. The way the triarch’s daughter clung to Criston and thanked him with big lavender eyes after they killed the bandits made the former princess see red. She needed to punch something. Quick.

Their protected charge was too pretty. Jealousy burned within the Targaryen’s chest as she stewed on it. The girl was all delicate features and soft curves, utterly gorgeous. Nothing like Valaerys lanky frame, long nose, and boring straight hair. Merlot colored eyes stared into the campfire, pouty lips downturned.

Criston sidled up to his princess, nosing playfully at her cheek with a kiss. She glared and pointedly ignored the knight. Morak— the pit fighter— began to grin at the pair of them. He continued to eat and chuckle. Criston murmured lowly “What’s gotten stuck into your craw?” He settled his warm hand high up on her thigh, sliding inwards teasingly.

Valaerys grumbled absently while chewing on rations, keeping her face forward, focusing on not shivering from Criston’s big hand on her thigh. So close to where she wanted his irritating smiley face. Instead she hissed right back at him. “Don’t you need to go watch over the doll in her fancy tent? Make sure she doesn’t have any nightmares?”

The knight’s thoughts went two different ways. His pride puffed with Val’s obvious jealousy, seeking to push her a bit farther, she was something else when angered. Criston’s other side grew annoyed at her bratty behavior. He was merely being chivalrous with the noble girl, practicing his conversational Valyrian more than anything.

The Essosi girl definitely wanted a piece of him, Criston was not that dumb, but he was dumb enough to enjoy stoking his true love’s fiery temper. He rolled dark eyes at Morak, turning back to invade his pretty girl’s space. She scooted farther away, brows furrowing.

“You’re really this upset? We’re doing a job, I’m merely providing good service so we gain notoriety. You could stand to be a bit kinder,” he said. Cole’s lips grazed her ear as he admonished the angry woman. She flushed and eyed him, whispering back angrily, “Good service is coddling and carrying the mewling kitten around? She’s pretty, I get it.”

The princess slapped his big hand away from her thigh, stomping off to go see what Skysinger was up to. Criston called once, “Valaerys! Get back here!” Val was too pissed off to deal with him. Unfortunately there were familiar footsteps catching up, the knight snatching her around the midsection, pulling up close.

He rumbled, “You’re being fucking dramatic, when have I ever strayed from you?”

Valaerys wanted to sink into his body, relax and kiss those soft lips of his, catch the warm gleam in dark eyes. But she was horribly set in her head, properly offended. Criston pinched at her hip, seeking an answer.

“You’ve been by her side the entire time, maybe I could ride with the girl for once? Put the two Barrowton idiots beside her horse. You like the new cunt? Younger and richer? More power?”

Criston’s own temper flared, quickly stepping back to point a finger at the prickly blonde as he raved, “Fine then. Ride with the girl! Maybe you’ll learn some manners after all this godsdamn time! She sure has them.”

“Oh fuck you Criston!”

“If I did would you stop being such a venomous bitch?” He retorted right back, smug at her reddened face under the moonlight. Valaerys scoffed, lips trembling before continuing her quest to visit her winged beast. The ex-hand was going to show her what she thought was occurring. He stood with clenched fists, turning on his foot to sit back at the fire.

He stopped one more time, debating on whether to try again. The brunette shook his head— no, the princess wouldn’t change her mind after this spat.

Loroi was quiet, like most Qohorik. He had a fox-like face and gleaming dark eyes. Criston sat back onto the ground, angrily slugging some fermented shite from the wineskin. Loroi asked in poor common tongue “You two are…heated this trip?” Morak laughed brashly, explaining in his bastard Valyrian, “You’ve never seen a lover’s spat bowman?”

Ser Garett snorted, “They just find ways to be mad so,” his friend Ser Kendal finished, “So to spice up the fuckin’.”

Then they all burst into laughter. Criston grimaced. His princess was indeed quite angry. Not the fun way the men were mentioning either. Maybe once she rode with the fellow Valyrian things would ease up. He really didn’t enjoy seeing the princess so angered she wasn’t ready to fuck, that’s how it always went with them.

Ser Cole sighed as the Triarch’s daughter fought with the horse’s saddle. Yesterday’s ride did not go as he preferred. Valaerys made an effort to speak to the fellow blonde. Which was quite the effort considering how she already perceived the girl— a threat. The Volantene noble seemed dismissive of the dragonrider, pointedly talking to him instead.

His Val didn’t speak a word afterward and for the rest of the night beside dropping acrid backhanded insults.

Ser Criston Cole was laying it on thick in the meantime, drawing on that easy charm he held when prancing around tourneys in King’s Landing. Cole practically cooed, “Need help with that my lady?” The spoilt child seemed to enjoy Westerosi customs. She nodded eagerly, blushing, lilac eyes shiny with awe. Leaning over and straightening out the straps with a quick snap, Cole’s hand grazedacross her soft arm in the process.

Valaerys immediately slowed her horse’s gait, lips downturned as she rode in stride with Loroi. He could feel the heat on the back of his head. Hell, she might call Skysinger down. The Volantene babbled as they neared Braavos, the giant statue appearing on the horizon.

Criston helped her down the horse, kissing her ringed hand, leading the blonde to the manse of the Sealord. He was on an ego trip, his contemptuous lover growing more agitated by the second. The ex-princess completed the transaction, gaining extra gold for ‘the knight’. Valaerys stormed out when the Triarch’s daughter laid her plush lips on Criston’s stubbled cheek.

The Targaryen was planning murder. The rest focused to find a nice inn and rest for a night or two before returning to home base in Qohor. They managed to find a nice one, a bustling bar covered in colorful streamers on the street level.

Val ordered for three rooms. Criston relaxed a bit— worried he may have gone too far to fuck with her.

They drank, Cole making multiple attempts to talk to his lover. Valaerys narrowed her dark eyes at him, a bit drunker than he expected, cheeks prettily flushed. She bit out sourly “Do you find yourself enamored with every bitch with blonde hair and purple eyes on the planet?” Gritting her sharp jaw she shoved at Criston, eyes calculating.

He couldn’t help but grin at her behavior. Sometimes Criston smiled when he was agitated, heated for a fight. He snatched the leggy blonde over and pressed his face close to hers, laughing, “You truly are envious! We left our old lives together, you’re smarter than that, girl.”

She bit his bottom lip, rasping, “Flirty asshole, smiling and playing Ser Cole, fuck you,” her hands gripped at his waist while kissing him roughly, “Get your ass to the room.” Criston took his ass up to the room, the princess close behind, lobbing insults.

As soon as the door closed and locked behind them, Valaerys shoved the knight into the wall, cursing. “Take your clothes off. Fucking prick. You think it’s so funny to play with me like that? Made me feel like a godsdamn ninny, moping over how pretty she was.”

Val stepped back to shuck off her boots. Criston felt a bit afraid for what was to come but his cock was harder than the Smith’s hammer. He loved his princess like this, still grinning as he divested his armor and clothes.

“Why the fuck are you smiling? You’re lucky!”

The former Kingsguard was used to a little manhandling from his lover but she was raw aggression, shoving him flat onto the bed and crawling atop, slapping his cheek and barking, “Shit-stirrer. You knew I was upset!” He’d be lying if he said he didn’t whimper a bit.

“I should just get myself off on your thigh and leave you dry,” she hissed.

Criston tried to grovel a bit, his hands batted away from those gorgeous thighs. He pled, “Val, come on, I was merely playing to piss you off. That child was a babbling idiot.” Her dark wine colored eyes softened a hair— face turning back to anger.

“Well you’ve succeeded in pissing me off, Cole. Slut. You’re a slut. No better than the whores flashing their tits on the Street of Silk for a little coin.”

She plastered her pale body against his tanned, wet cunt sliding over his poor cock. Criston choked on his breath, eyes flashing in excitement. He breathed, “It excites me when you get angry my love, I went too far. Quit, let’s fuck it out.”

She slapped him again, lips crashing against his own, pussy grinding against him as she rocked her hips. Criston groaned and Valaerys’ tongue slid right in, twisting with his own, the pair in a frenzy. The tip of his cock kept catching against her slick opening, begging, “C’mon— Valaerys, please, I- ah- apologize. You’re the love of my life!”

She whined softly, demanding afterward, “Keep talking, oh gods, keep fucking talking.”

Criston was going to lose his mind, his soaked cock half-enveloped in her warmth but not sunken in that tight cunt. He panted and writhed, fisting his hands in the sheets. The knight knew he sounded embarrassingly needy as he kept apologizing.

“Pretty baby, fucking shit, you’re so gorgeous. Those legs, pretty lips, how your cute little tits f-feel on me— that other slut wouldn’t stand ahhaaah- chance! Lemme touch you, need it.”

Valaerys cried out and grabbed his bigger hands to massage at her tits, rutting her pussy frantically across Criston’s swollen cock. She placed both hands on his shoulders for balance, cursing and trembling as she grew closer. He always knew her signs.

“M’gonna cum on your filthy cock, you attention whore,” she groaned throatily.

“Please, please, please,” Criston panted.

Tweaking at her nipples had the angered dragon fall apart babbling and clenching. His own release was closer than expected— but Criston wanted her cunt so bad. He begged, “Mm, Val, sweetling, my favorite girl, let me fuck you, I’ll do whatever you want, just!” He whined sharply, frustration clouding coherency.

The blonde smiled teasingly, blissed out and fuck drunk. She patted Criston’s cheek to jape “That’s right, remember whose pussy this is?” She moved upward, muscles flexing in her thighs. Taking ahold of the knight’s prick she continued, “Whose cock it’s only fit for. Don’t do it again or I ought to make you a eunuch.”

Criston’s eyes rolled up when she enveloped his aching cock— groaning pitiful and high. Valaerys rasped his name, hands locking around the tender skin of his throat. He saw the twisted look in her eyes, possessive and eager. The knight knew he was getting used. Thoroughly.

All the brunette did was hold onto her hips as he gasped and threw his head back, quiet sounds slipping out. Val’s strong thighs flexed as she rode him roughly, a moan pushed out on every wet slap of their skin— sweat and release.

“You like that Criston? You wanted me to be mad, fuck you into the bed?” She managed, blonde hair falling from a once meticulous braid. Criston whimpered when she tightened her hands, nodding a yes. Her sweet pussy pulled and massaged his cock, the quick movements bringing him closer and closer.

She leaned down to his gaping mouth, spitting into it with a pleased look. Criston swallowed, almost choking because of her hands. Val exclaimed, slapping his tanned flank with a praise, throwing her head back. He was twitching and trying his best to fuck back against swift movements, drinking in her exposed neck and pretty tits.

She tightened harder, gritting out, “You’re fucking mine, best heed that, Ser Cole.”

The knight’s mouth hung open as she placed pressure on the sides of tender throat, sending his head into a tizzy. His hips helplessly stuttered as he tensed, lips stretched around a silent cry, Criston came so hard his vision went blank. Floating in rapture before coming back still in the throes.

Valaerys let go and came right along as his pumps of hot seed coated her tight cunt. Criston sucked in a breath before exhaling out a sob, then a slurry of moans and whines— stimulated and assaulted by utter ecstasy. He wrapped his arms around her pale waist and yanked the Princess against him, riding out his orgasm, panting wetly against her pulsing neck.

She curled a hand in his dark hair, breathing rapid from her exertions. Criston’s cock gave a last pitiful jerk, the pair both whining. Silence enveloped the room besides breath and the occasional soft sound. The knight knew he needed to say something. Stagnancy filled the room as quickly as the pleasure settled down.

He rolled them to the side, cock sliding out in the process, Criston’s chest swelling at the ruined mess of his love’s cunt. Dark eyes met the familiar grape-like color. He cradled her face, stroking a sharp cheekbone. Her lashes fluttered, arm tightening around his torso.

“Valaerys,” he paused to swallow, “I apologize for upsetting you…behaving childishly. But do know you’re the only one who holds my heart, my soul, the one who holds me together. I should not have made you feel otherwise, my love.”

Val’s face twisted a little, emotions welling up. She was terrible with expressing them; always disliked tears from anyone. She murmured, “She was beautiful. You were being the gallant knight and I wondered— I wondered what it was like to be pretty for you.” She sniffed and rolled her eyes, “That was fucking stupid, I didn’t feel secure. I know I’m a bitch and look like my damn brother, no curves either. Then she comes along and reminds me of it.”

Criston frowned, finding himself chiding her like he did back in Westeros, “I don’t give a rats ass about that or the idiot child, I like you the way you are. You’re beautiful to me covered in ash and dirt, blood, still banging your fists on the training post and yelling at Aegon. In leggings and chain mail.”

She smiled a bit, getting clingier, how he knew Val was feeling loved. He hummed, kissing her soft lips gentle. The princess sniffled, “I love you. So much.”

Criston replied, “And I love you, stubborn wench. Forgot to include that trait of your twin, Targaryen. I’m yours.” Besides, she handled jealousy much better than he did. A dead body or two might be lain around Essos from staring too long, or that one making her laugh with a jape. Oh, such was the nature of their love.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #Criston cole imagine #Ser criston cole imagine #criston cole smut #criston cole x oc #Criston Cole x Targ!Princess

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wangxianficfinder · 9 months

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Fic Finder

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1. In search of another fic! This time I'm looking for a fic where wwx was taken in by lqr and grows up in cloud recesses. I think there's a scene where an adult/older teen wwx requests that lqr formally adopt him, or lqr asks to formally adopt wwx. Either way, many heartwarming feelings! I think lwj might also formally request to speak to lqr about courting wwx in this fic. Thank you!

FOUND? All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix It, Not Jiang Family Friendly, not JFM or YZY friendly, Definitely not YZY centric, Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Madam Lán Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, Unreliable Narrator, not JC friendly, non-yunmeng WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Good Uncle LQR, Happy Ending, WWX gets the love and care that he deserves from the very beginning, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, verbal and physical (c/o Zidian) abuse from YZY)

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2. Hello. First time doing this so hope I'm doing it right. I'm looking for a fic I read ages ago but I can't remember the name. What I remember is that it's a Modern AU and Wei Ying was sent to boarding school (Gusu) where he was roomed with Lan Zhan. It was just him and he had a hard time adjusting before things slowly got better. He went home for the holidays and found out that he was blood related to Jiang Feingman and did not really handle that well and left home to go back to school. Last thing I remember happening is that he got tricked into picking up a call from JFM when he thought it was Yanli? If you know this fic, is really appreciate some help @cara-tanaka

FOUND? I want to stay with you by Naeme (T, 63k, WangXian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, High School, Age Progression, Family Secrets, Family Drama, Family Feels, Bonding, Mutual Pining)

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3. Hello, I’m looking for a specific WangXian fic, similar to “shoot your shot -hot or knot”. It features dark Lans where Lan Xichen sets up a mating run for his brother and Wei Ying signs up for the money. I remember a scene where all the contestants are asked to line and sign a contract and someone tries to escape. He gets shot and the rest of the contestants are warned not to try to run away. I think Lan Zhan is a feral/dominant Alpha. I believe he killed a few other contestants before making his way to Wei Ying. Hope you’re able to find it! Please and thank you 😊 @confundo

FOUND! Five Fifteen by 3neetee (M, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Mating runs, Graphic Description, Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Alpha/Alpha, Implied Mpreg, Dark LWJ, Betrayal, Smut, Anal Sex, WWX likes to be called Omega, Dark lans, Twitter threadfic, Unreliable Narrator WWX) locked to archive members only

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4. I’m looking for a Modaozushi Fanfic

I read this fanfic months ago. it is fic where wen qing asks for protection from wei ying, who is either a spirit or an immortal (he is definitely not human),for the wen remnants in exchange for their service for some time.

i think lan zhan (who was a winter lord or something) visits them after some time.

the story had not gone far when i had read it.

please help me find it.

FOUND? A Year and a Day by Admiranda (T, 11k, WIP, Unseelie AU, wwx is a fairy lord, making bargains with the fey, background wangxian, minor OCs, agenda: give wei wuxian some better siblings) the asker looking for the fic where WQ makes a bargain with WWX is likely looking for my Unseelie fic, in which WWX is the autumn Fey lord and LWJ is the winter prince. It is not cancelled, but the next chapter has been absolutely evil and refusing to write itself.

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5. Hii I remember this fic that happened at Phoenix mountain hunt , the blindfolded kiss scene, where wwx knew it was lwj because chenqing or the resentment didn't attack lwj , cause it knew him (recognized him) or something like that. @karinasnowwwx

FOUND? No one else but you by chrisemrys (M, 17k, wangxian, canon divergence, First Kiss, Stolen Kiss, Love Confessions, Fix-It, Everyone Lives au, Semi sentient resentful energy, Golden Core Reveal, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, First Time)

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6. pls help me find this fic

A) i am doing this for the first time, Thank you already for all the efforts. i lost a twitter fic i read ago and forgot to save. Its info that i remember is as- TW // NSFW, MPREG..............it was a omegaverse types fic, lan zhan slept with wei ying, they did stuff. lan zhan ran away at night nd collapsed in the streets due to something related to omega-alpha thing, i dont exactly remember. then he's hospitalised for some time nd his brother lan huan stays with him. wei ying had no idea about lan zhan's conditions and lan huan thinks that lan zhan is in this condition because of wi ying so he starts hating him and tries his best to keep his brother away from wei ying......................they meet in a school programme again, where they play their guqin nd flute, towards the end wei ying is saved by lan zhan from an accident nd they r really close, again, lan zhan faints. lan huan comes, and takes lan zhan away. wei ying is pregnant nd wen wind knows it, she taks care of him. lan huan hides this info from lan zhan, who discovers it only when he overheard wen qing and lan huan talking when wen qing came to fetch lan zhan because wei ying's condition was getting worse without his a/b/o partner (doctor advised it). then, lan zhan goes to wei ying nd comfortshim, he sleeps but when he wakes up, he doesn't accept lan zhan nd technically hates him but they start taking things slowly nd improve. after a while, they r normal, they live in wen qing's apartment, lan zhan often feels distant and stays awake alone at night, wei ying is worried for him. he takes best care of wei ying but not himself. one day wen qing visits wei ying when lan zhan is out and tells him and she cam smell her scent nd not lan zhan's and that might be reason why lan zhan doesn't feel fine, because he is in other person's territory. wei ying calls lan qiren and asks help for a new place. rest, i dont remember, sorry. this is killing my brain

B) tw//nsfw it was a twt soc med au, wy was a singer/idol, got laid in a party(bday mayb), finds lan zhan later, lan zhan is the man. towards the end, he releases a whole song/album regarding his story, from getting laid to falling in love with lan zhan. in the mean time when he was preparing it as a bday gift, he gave less time to lz and he thought he was ignoring him. that's all i remember sorry, its stuck so bad, i cant forget it. there was a cover for the single/album too i dont remember @dee-s085

6A)

FOUND! Twitter Thread by babyofgusu

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7. Hi, I’m so sorry to have to ask this, it’s frankly embarrassing, but here we are. I was reading one of the fics you recommended for an itmf (I think the original request was something with soulbonding) and my app closed. Now you would think finding it again would be easy, but I had scrolled a few months back by the time I found it and now fro the life of me can’t find it. So here’s the premise: CQL post canon, WWX wakes after banishing a spirit at an old manor and finds himself in pain. Turns out he and LWJ got cursed to be close, when they’re touching the pain recedes. I got maybe halfway through where they decided to visit the manor since the library didn’t deliver results. Would you be so kind to direct me to the correct fic/itmf post? You Guys are amazing, have a nice weekend ❤️ @elitharavenclaw

Hi, #7 of the last fic finder, sadly those fics are both not it. Theres not really more detail to tell though, but I will try. WWX is found by two rogue cultivators who treat him fine, he travels back to cloud recess for 2 days with little apple, sizhui and Jingyi help researching, LQR is disapproving of wangxians “unseemlieness” though he knows they’re cursed, they do check the forbidden section of the library but without success. Hope this helps.

NOT FOUND! So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend (E, 13k, wangxian, Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Confessions, Drunkenness)

NOT FOUND! All in Good Time by bigboobedcanuck (E, 8k, WangXian, Post-Canon, First Kiss, First Time, POV LWJ, Top LWJ, Pining LWJ, Protective LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Protective WWX, Top WWX, Pining WWX, Idiots in Love, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics, Good Kid LSZ, Branding, Scars, Worry, Protectiveness) thought it was one i read a while ago but-according to my giant note i keep a list of all my fav untamed fics lol- its lwj who is cursed not wwx!

FOUND? You'd Break Your Heart to Make It Bigger by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 32k, WangXian, soulbonding, First Time, Case Fic if You Squint, Fools in Love, soul boning, soft fools in love, Pining while fucking) With the two rogues, this sounds like "You'd Break Your Heart To Make It Bigger"

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8. Hello darlings! I'd like to ask for your help finding a fic that i cannot find anymore... it's a wangxian AU set in 1800 England, kinda. I think wei ying is a fan of this mysterious writer who wrote a fantasy novel and of course the writer is lan zhan (or viceversa?). It's a 5 chapter fic written like it's jane austen's book! And the writer added extract of this book wei ying is a fan of! It's an amazing fic with a fanart of this book. I was sure that the fics name was the monster of yiling, but i cannot find it . Thank you in advance even if it can't be found 🥰 @jaecomments

FOUND! Restraint and Revelation: or, The Necromancer of Yiling by Lirelyn (T, 16k, wangxian, Regency au, Gothic, Story within a Story, Pining, LWJ's horny imagination)

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9. Hi! I'd like help finding this one fic. It's set in the cloud recesses during the lectures, LWJ is cursed by a group of Elders so he acts like the perfect Lan (or something) and WWX is the only one who notices, I remember he tried to bring it up to others (or at least Lan Qiren) but no one believed him, Only LXC does (once he returns - from somewhere, I don't know where). I also remember that a bit form LWJ perspective mentioning that they wanted to curse LXC too, but it would be too obvious. @i-like-snakes-and-spiders

FOUND! The Meaning of Silence by The Silverfish (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 14k, wangxian, Mind Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining)

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10. hello! i wanted to find a fic where wangxian were resident doctors, they were kinda friends but turned into lovers. it was explictly rated as far as i remember! thank you!

FOUND? Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, modern, Medical Residents AU, Childhood Friends, Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, Sexual Content, Podfic Available)

FOUND? Year Of Night Call by ailuridae (abigailnicole) (T, 22k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, What If Cultivators Were All Surgeons AU, surgery AU, Our Boys Are Trauma Fellows Now, The Lan Babies Are Surgery Interns, trauma fellows share a call room, and there was only one bed, hospital au, Medicine AU)

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11. I’m looking for the Fic where Wei Ying goes missing in high school and is homeless. Lan Zhan finds him at a coffee shop and buys him coffee and doesn’t recognize him at first. He gives him a coat. He brings Wei Ying to stay at his place. I believe wangji might be a single parent and have pet bunnies. Huaisang was best friends with Wei Ying & reconnects with him while he’s at wangji’s. Wei Ying goes missing again and xichen watches the bunnies while wangji searches and finds him out in the cold.

FOUND! Where You Fell by Sweet_William (E, 303k, wangxian, 3zun, JC/NHS, JYL/JZX, modern, Angst, Mutual Pining, Homeless, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, accidental sugar daddy LWJ, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Esteem Issues, Coffee Shops & Cafés au, Autistic Character, WWX Has ADHD, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex Work, Implied/Referenced Substance Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending)

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12. Hi, I’m in need a bit of a help I’m struggling to find a wangxian fic, it’s involved wei wuxian and the wen refugees in the burial mound and some how they find in the burial mound they find the fountain of youth (or something like that) and they make a shop for makeup or something like that and sell it and wei wuxian dresses as a girl and I think other stuff happens but can’t fully remember. I was trying to find this fic but I can’t find it anywhere and I’m unsure if it’s been deleted or something, if you could help me find it or know if it’s been removed, I would really appreciate it, thank you.

FOUND? Fruit-Bearing Pool by rei_moon (T, 46k, WIP, wangxian, Mpreg, Crack Treated Seriously, Magical Pregnancy, Magical Pool, Out of Character, Inspired by Journey to the West’s Motherhood River, Historical Inaccuracy, WWX became a business mogul to feed his growing family, Minor OCs, Slow Build, Attempt at Humor, Crossdressing, For disguise purposes, Fix-It of Sorts, WWX and JZX being human disasters together, Misunderstandings)

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13. Hi, I was hoping to get some help with finding a fanfiction. The drescription is that Wwx tries to have naughties with Mianmian but can't perform so he goes to Lwj who lives in his mothers old house thinks about how he'd let wwx destroy the house because it was his mothers jail. They then talk and lwj tells wwx to do what he did with mm and he gets hard and they bone on the couch. The only other detail is a food scented candle that wwx got lwj that he lights? Idk sorry that's all I've got lol. @yilingweiclan

FOUND? Oh, 13 I think is sadly the deleted work "So he thinks he straight (a memoir by Lan Zhan)" by Pancho. I know there are people with copies floating around, you'll have to ask

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14. Twitter Wangxian socmed au, they r teleported to modern world, wei ying finds lz through a guqin post on insta with bunny dp. They meett..... xue yang is the villain who harms xiao xichen using suibian so the blame is diverted to wy but lz trusts him and song lan is angry from wy sonwy goes undercover. Lz tried to find him, helps him get the truth to song lan. xue yang acts like a good friend towards song lan but at the end, truth is revealed, xue yang is the villain, jin guangyao too is oresent, the mastermind behind xue yang. Its happy ending. @dee-s085

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15. Hello, I'm looking for a wangxian fic with wlw WX, in a modern AU where the Lans are secretly cultivators, but LWJ is a landscape designer. WWX is using the Baoshan name and is a cultivator that came down the immortal mountain to stop Wens from fucking the world over with Yin Tie by marrying Wen Chao and then killing off all the Wens, ending up wildly wealthy. She then goes after the Jin by being engaged to Meng Yao. LWJ is "investigating" WWX because LXC just wants to make sure A-Yao's fiance really loves him. @xxqiao

FOUND! Widow's Weeds by travelingneuritis (E, 18k, wangxian, modern cultivation, Gardens & Gardening, Wedding Planning, wedding thwarting, rich people are terrible, Light-Hearted, Smut, Gender Changes, Getting Together, offscreen deaths played for laughs, this is meant to be silly don't worry about it, Scheming, Plotting, wwx and jgy are accidentally-on-purpose bearding each other but i keep it PG, wwx running laps around the entire jin sect)

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16. Hey, thanks so much for your service! I'm looking for a fic that's very Lan Xichen focused, from what I remember after wangxian's happy ending he's left coming to terms with the past, in an effort to make a change for the future generations he destroys the Lan punishment implements and strikes away the rules on the stone that don't are not true to the founder's will @glassboner

FOUND? Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) I don't know if 16 might be Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket but that fic has an scene exactly like the one described. It's not totally Xichen centric and wangxian are not together yet but it might be, idk.

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17. I'm hoping you can help me find this fic. It's a shorter fic from Lan Qiren's pov. It starts with him sitting in an inn next to four teenage boys. He recognizes one as Lan Xichen. There's a flashback to Lan Qiren not stopping a pregnant Madam Lan from escaping with Lan Xichen. It ends with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen talking. The other boys at the table were Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. Thanks for any help!

NOT FOUND! The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 86k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Fix-It, Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, Not Lan Sect Friendly, Bad Dads, good dads, JFM's A+ parenting, QHJ's F- Existence, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Mothers Who Live, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Not Everyone Dies au, Canonical Character Death)

FOUND! leave the ruins where they fall by tardigradeschool (G, 4k, WangXian, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Hair Braiding, Slice of Life, LQR apologism, Family Fluff Childhood Friends)

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18. Hey there hope you are doing fine . So I was searching for a wangxian fanfic which is based in modern times and in this wang ji asks for xian's help to look after his pet spirit rabbit, so he invites him in his apartment and xian cause need the job came ( jiang family has already kicked xian out after taking his golden core) while looking after rabbit the pet came to realize that xian is hurt badly and the story goes on like this ... Please help me find it ... @legendarywarrior99

FOUND? the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, wangxian, modern cultivation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Getting Together, Confessions)

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19. hello, i was just in the middle of reading a fic and accidentally closed tumblr. It was a link to a03, but it isn’t in my history. Jiang Cheng is raising Wen Yuan as the Jiang Sect heir. When Lan Wangji sees them he moves to Lotus Pier to help raise him along with Jin Ling. At some point Mo Xuanyu alerts Jiang Cheng and Qin Sui about Jin Guangyao’s plots and they decide to raise Wei Wuxian from the dead to help and Lan Wangji is angry they are trying to use WWX again and decides to hunt down Xue Yang. He and Mian Mian run into Song Lan and join up to search and then.. I closed it by mistake. Any clue what the name of this fic is? @julnyes

FOUND! The Sun Sets Like a Whispered Regret by OrdinaryRealities (T, 41k, WangXian, Resurrect Your Gays, LWJ and JC enemies to brothers, Minor Character Death, Kidfic, Sort Of, Happy Ending)

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20. Hello! I am looking for a WangXian fic where Wangji runs away to the countryside and becomes roommates with Ying who I think runs an aesthetic farm-life youtube channel? I remember the fic was really beautifully written in how it described the old houses, countryside, local festivals, etc and you could practically “see” the filmography of the videos. I also remember a scene where Ying takes all the local kids to go hand fishing in the river. Thank you for your help!

FOUND! 🧡 【那夏天的我們】 a stroke of fate by puddingcatbeans (G, 59k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Slice of Life, Falling In Love, Summer, Barakamon AU, renowned musician lwj escapes to tiny village and falls in love with local farmer boy wwx, good times only, YouTuber WWX, Food)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxianficfinder #the untamed #wangxian fic finder #long post #wangxian fic search

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