#🧚 pretty little wip;;

[atozfic]

hiiii i hope you’ve been well!! i noticed you said you’ve been writing a bit of siren if it’s not too much to ask can we get a spoiler/snippet from it? i’ve been excited for it ever since i read the synopsis

the spoiler is that the fic is actually a huge prank i've pulled on you all, that i have no intention of actually writing. happy (early) april fools ! here, have a very cringey snippet that i intend to rewrite before officially posting the fic.

warning: this is unedited and likely includes typos/cringe writing from nearly a year ago!!

“do you think its a mermaid?”

the question is met with a slap to the back of the dark haired man’s head, who proceeds to yelp and stare back at his crewmate, confusion and offense swirling in his eyes when he meets the other’s stare.

“shh, you idiot!” the pirate speaks in a hushed tone, through gritted teeth and a serious expression, his eyes still busy looking at the lump of fabric and flesh and hair tangled in a net that lays just at the beach shore. “it could be a siren! we can’t risk waking it up! captain'll kill us if we die.”

the sun has already began to set, alerting them of just how much time has passed since they arrived on the impish island. deserted of any human lives, the spec of land provided them with nothing but natural resources and a perfect spot to dump their unwanted cargo. which, in this very moment, is a sailor they’d caught on board their ship, hiding among barrels in an attempt to attack the beautiful vessel come night fall. what a shame the poor man forgot to counter in just what crew lived aboard such a ship, the young yet already feared group made up of no more and no less than eight men, who have garnered a plethora of names: the ocean’s assassins, the hell bringers, the pirate kings.

many stories have been passed around about the ominous crew, among drunkards in sketchy taverns and the gossiping wives of sailors. some true, some false, yet all painting them in a less than friendly light. their beginning alone is a tale fearsome enough to send shivers down the spine of any well-respected navy commander.

other than the boy who’d betrayed his own father and taken capture of the navy ship, along side the rest of the seven men, little is truly known about the pirate crew. sure, their faces have been seen, their mouths have been kissed by drunken fools, rounds of ale have been brought to them in many a taverns, but never have their names been spoke, never have they shared laughter with a stranger nor spared an inch of mercy for anyone outside of their crew of eight disasters.

thus, no one knows of the true nature of the pirates. and, if there’s anything mankind hates most, it’s the inability to understand, to gain knowledge of something, which is why the group is such a point of contention, an enigma many challenge themselves to solve.

some even going as far to sneak on board their ship.

“wait, do you even get sirens this time of the year?” another slap lands on the back of the man’s head, a slap which he this time returns to his friend in the form of a flick to his ear. “stop hitting me or i’ll tell yeosang it was you who drank the last of the rum!”

“i wouldn’t have to hit you if you didn’t say stupid things.” unbeknownst to the two men, their bickering is attracting the attention of another set of eyes, who watches them from a distance where tree branches still scrape his skin and the sand is yet to fully appear beneath his feet. “do you get sirens this time of the year?! seriously, san? what kind of question is that!”

“the kind of question you’re too dumb to answer!”

“oh, real mature!”

“your mum sure thinks so!”

“what does that even mean?!”

“i don’t know!”

the volume of the two pirates bickering increases to a point where neither of the stealth sea-assassins pick up on the approaching footsteps nor the slow laughter which companies them, the eyes that were watching them now much closer and much more aware of what exactly had prompted the daily argument between the two.

it’s as the one who calls himself san curls his hand around the hilt of his sword that the onlooker decides to step in, knowing yeosang would not appreciate having to waste more thread on stitching up yet another unnecessary wound, just like the crew’s captain would not enjoy having to repeat the same old scoldings the pair received almost at a daily rate.

“you’re both idiots.” perhaps not the best way to make his presence known, but it works either way, prompting both san and wooyoung’s head to snap in his direction, eyes wide in accusation and mouths dropped open in audacity. “you know that, right?”

“fuck off and go back to doing tall people stuff, yunho.” of course it’s wooyoung who speaks first, always the most catty on board the ship and never one to bite back a comment or think before he speaks.

“how are we both idiots?” san, more level-headed even while being prone to arguing, asks with more curiosity than offense, hand lazily thumbing over the bumps and ridges of his intricate sword handle. 

“because, you thought it was a mermaid,” yunho points in san’s direction, who proceeds to avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the look of his sand dusted boots to be the most intriguing thing in the world. the attention is quickly thrown to wooyoung as the tallest among the three point him out. “and you thought it was a siren. now, can you tell me what mermaids and sirens have in common?”

the pair keep quiet, san with red cheeks and wooyoung with a snarl, like he’s trying so hard to calculate his next snarky comment, all in the aim of shrugging off the shame of being called out on his own idiocy. 

“a tail. they both have tails.” when it doesn’t click in either of the two’s heads, yunho sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. brushing past them both, he nudges wooyoung’s shoulder as he cautiously approaches the lump of flesh and fabric, tangled in a web of nets and seaweed. “and that,” he points at the figure, entranced by the subtle yet visible rise and fall of the creature’s breathing. “very clearly has a pair of legs, not a tail.”

[thelastofhyde]

﹫thelastofhyde’s pending fic/wips !

— sail away with me,, cruise au ,, tourguide!joel

agegap + romcom + series ; 5% written

— wolf in sheep’s clothing,, horror au,, werewolf!joel

dubcon + smut + short oneshot ; 0% written

— cut ur hair & take some space,, dbf au ,, ex!javier

happy ending + post s3 + long oneshot ; 85% written

— talk therapy,, jackson au,, asshole!joel

group therapy + smut + short oneshot ; 5% written

— days of you & me,, jackson au,, domestic!joel

insecurity + smut + long oneshot ; 8% written

my saving grace,, break up au,, ex!dieter

drug abuse + infidelity + series ; 10% written

iii. the butterfly theory ;; psecds p.3,, lovesick! joel

longing + smut + series ; 70% written

[houseofhyde]

﹠ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

✶⠀꒰ CALL ME HYDE ! twenty three + she/they + studying eng. lit. & creative writing + team black green hot bitches ! ‹𝟯

⌕﹙ NAV⋆﹚ rules. masterlist. ﹫thelastofhyde ( pedro pascal fics ) 𐀔

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓍯ꜜlatest fics. ! "aemond, i'm out shopping..."〝

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎... 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 !

[otpcutie]

WIP title game

Tysm @writer-or-whatever for the tag!! Mine are mostly the same as last time too hehe🧚🌈

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

My WIPs (I've crossed out anon fics I can't talk about yet):

Tempting Fate, Chapter 3

Steve's Night Off, Chapter 3

The Danger Of Desire

His Most Cherished Possession

Untitled

Doll Eyes

I Trust You The Way I Need Air To Breathe

Pretty and Pink

His and Mine

A Daddy Sandwich

When Snow Falls

Good Puppy, Bad Boy

Professional Omega

The Way To A Man's Heart

HD Wireless Fest fic

HP Trans Fest fic

Tagging (sorry it wont let me tag in a big group😭): @undutchable11 @heavy-metal-dick @phoenixortheflame @late-to-the-party-81 @mrs-illyrian-baby

@professional-benaddict @basicallyahedgehog @starksvinyls @siobhanhazel @mandyyvibes

@katia-anyway @tessacrowley @andrea1717 @elskanellis @stargazing-enby

@wyxan

[thelastofhyde]

❜ 𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐄’𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐒, aka the fics currently occupying my drafts and fighting for my﹙limited﹚attention in the hopes of getting posted first. feel free to send asks about these fics, or even encourage me to write whichever you like the sound of most ! these are all x fem!reader

joel miller, the last of us.

hush, hush, hush.

synopsis. too many questions, not enough answers, and now joel miller's running out of excuses to why you keep missing out on patrol duty, and drinks down at the bar, and sunday breakfasts, and family sports days. main warnings. established relationship, secret relationship, smut, pregnant!reader. word count. unknown.

[thelastofhyde]

the ugly truth ( 2009 ) except it's renound heartbreaker and possesser of a little slutty waist javier peña teaching nurse!reader how to seduce a new, hot surgeon, only to ( obviously ) be seduced and fall in love with her himself.

[thelastofhyde]

told myself part two of the likeability paradox was gonna be shorter... i’m 6k+ into it and the smuts still not started.

[thelastofhyde]

𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐑...

✶⠀꒰ CALL ME HYDE ! twenty two + she/they + studying eng. lit. & creative writing + joel miller's hand-holder ! ‹𝟯

⌕﹙ NAV⋆﹚ foreword. bookshelf. unpublished. biography. 𐀔

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓍯ꜜother blogs ! ﹫houseofhyde ( hotd fics/ main blog )〝

latest release. hit the road, jack!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 !

[houseofhyde]

What's this Another Man saga going on 👀❔❓

hey, thank you for your ask <3 here, have a title list + two descriptions for the upcoming another man's chapters ! wip ask game.

part 3, pleasure. a pregnancy, a nameday and a drunken evening make for a dangerous concoction between the one-eyed dragon and the royal wolf.

part 4, pain. while the prince fights what ails him, he finds what aids him: the woman his brother calls wife.

further titles include: jealousy, wrath, view, love, exile, wife, death.

[houseofhyde]

⏤ iii. another man's pleasure. aemond targaryen, part 3 of the another man series.👀👀👀

hey, thank you for your ask <3 here, have a little snippet of iii. another man's pleasure ! wip ask game.

the guards are frozen where they stand, and you half wonder if it is from their own shock or the drastic decrease in the temperatures, the cold that's drifted further south than the men of kingslanding have grown accustom to.

they exchange a look- one you're certain they believe to be discreet and unnoticed by you-, each willing the other to speak. it is, to your satisfaction, that the larger of the two breaks first.

"forgive me, your grace," words you hear too often these days. "what are you doing here, at this hour?"

they care for the hour of your visit as much as the king cares for your opinion.

shifting weight, you try to ignore the tightening fabric that crush your ribs with each intake of breath. you really need to ask the maids to loosen the ties of your corsets, least you wind up choking on your own breath.

you'd nearly done so hours before, at the dinner table, hands shaking and skin sweating and mind racing with anxious ridden spiders that crawled all over you.

"i'm here to visit my good-brother," you're purposeful with the way you address the man by his familial role, unlike the way you so often call him naught but his royal title. prince. "with a gift, for his nameday."

you hope the smile you shoot the men is as sweet as the fruit filled pastries sat upon the tray in your hands.

[houseofhyde]

Obsessed with your aemond x stark!reader series

then you'll be ( hopefully ) pleased to know part three is coming soon.

[houseofhyde]

Ooo, all of your wips sound very interesting but particularly all these things I’ve done👀

hey, thank you for your ask <3 here, have a snippet of all these things that i have done ! wip ask game.

“if you don’t stop staring, you’ll scare them all away, brother.”

the smell of wine is putrid on his brother's breath, and he near breaks out of his trance to grace him with a look of disgust. the sight of yet another lord approaching the damned table keeps him focused, the need to pick apart every inch of this unfamiliar man all consuming.

"if staring is enough to scare them away, then they were never worthy contenders in the first place." this new lord has curtsied and aemond can't help the quirk of amusement which dons his lips. how foolish, he thinks, to bow for a lady who holds no royal status. he feels reassured in the thought of you struggling back your own bout of laughter and tucking the incident away in some corner of your mind to retell it to him come the morning, where he'll play his part and act the fool, as though he had not watched the whole thing from his own seat. "we live in a world at war. a man who crumbles under the scrutiny of someone's eyes will make for a cowardly husband, incapable of protecting both his lady's honour and life."

"but who, if not the finest lords in all the realm, could be worthy of a lowly lady's hand?" aegon has never been one for studying, he has no desires in mastering a craft nor honing a skill to pure perfection. most at which he excels in has come naturally: drinking, whoring, taking thrones he has not earned. but, by far, what he has always excelled at is irritating his younger brother. the exaggerated gasp he lets out only serves to make aemond clench his jaw tighter. "surely, brother, a prince would be worthy! if only we knew one... i don't suppose daeron fancies a trip home to wet his cock, do you?"

aemond chooses to take a stand before his brother can achieve his goal of getting a rise out of him, the scrapping of his chair gaining the attention of passersby, some are ladies who avoid his one eyed gaze, others are lords who look upon him with equal amounts of curiosity and disrespect.

much to his annoyance, you seem none the wiser to his movement.

[thelastofhyde]

had a cute lil moment w my irl bestfriend while driving home the other day, she was looking through my likes on here for fic reccs and i was telling her some series that i love and i was like omg theres this one called the likeability paradox and she was like OMG YEAH YEAH THAT ONE YEAH. we had a little fangirl moment about ur writing bc it's so good<3.

also i saw the next chapter is plot heavy, so insanely excited pero tomate su tiempecito amor!!!

anyways she's gonna see this and text me so hey mama besitos!!

-bookshelf anon <3

"we had a little fangirl moment about ur writing bc it's so good" stfu i'm actually blushing, i'm giggling, i'm kicking my feet and twirling my hair. not y'all talking about silly old me and my joel fantasies! 🫣

yeahhh, the next chapter is a hefty one. more of sol's background (focusing on the start of her relationship with bill and frank) and a little bit of trauma bonding between her and joel. add in some forced proximity, a spin on the "there's only one bed" trope and a nasty load of smut and we've got disaster on our hands. disaster, aka a bitch to write. don't worry though, i'm taking my time and having a lot of fun writing it!

besitos to you and your bestie, que par de amorcitas más lindas!

[houseofhyde]

my corpse, what is all these things that i have done about 👀 i can picture it as perhaps something bittersweet or something purely romantic.... or it could just be straight up sad because happy endings? the creators of hotd never heard of it-

my bride !! welcome to my (other) hellsite!

all these things that i have done is an angsty, self-depricating, friend-to-lovers fic told entirely from aemond's point of view where, basically, he's the king of mixed signals and poor communication, and now has to suffer watching the woman he's been in love with since childhood be courted by half the population of westeros, all because he's a slimey little coward who thinks the silent treatment and intense eye contact equals flirting.

[houseofhyde]

Tell us about The Sun Came Crashing Down 👀

hey, thank you for your ask <3 here, have a snippet of & the sun came crashing down ! wip ask game.

if a lone tree within a deserted forest falls with not a living soul around to bare witness, is there any noise to be heard?

this question began to plague the young girl’s very existence from the moment she had stumbled upon it, tucked neatly between paragraphs on the dangers of mankind and their eternal thirst for bloodshed and war, bound together by the golden silk and blackened leather of a book entitled the silent enemy: a history of warcraft off the battlefield and at the dining table.

written by one archmaester croll, a man dubbed the copper crone for the representative metal of his expertise and his fair age, the book encourages any who dare to read it to take reflection upon the lords who’d unknowingly welcomed their allies to break bread and empty their cups at their feasts only to be betrayed with schemes and political backstabbing.

with age and with knowledge, the girl’s answer to this enigma changed.

when she’d first read it, a mere seven years (and nine moons, as the small girl had desperately reminded her father between his endeared laughter) old and already filling her delicate mind with all the knowledge she could cram into it, she’d proudly proclaimed that no, there would be no noise.

when her father asked why, she claimed noise was something created for ears to hear and, thus, if no ears were around, noise could simply not exist.

when age ten rolled around, just as the girl’s father was setting their table with a feast for two, she startled him with the sudden exclamation of yes!

“yes what, sweet pea?”

“the tree! it makes noise.”

“you’re still on that?” he seemed amused. then again, he always was when it came to the young one’s studies. more often than not he’d raise his eyebrows as she listed off the books she desired to read, shocked to find his small babe so fascinated by stories of bloodshed and politics. the shock never stopped him from fulfilling these demands however and, thus, the small pile of books that lined the cottage walls grew more and more with each of his travels. “what made you change your mind, hm?”

“love!” it was certainly not what he’d expected to hear, never having believed his daughter to be well-versed in such a thing. then again, she’d long proved herself wiser than most her age. “i love you when you’re here and when you’re not. it’s not something that’s relative to time and space. and neither is sound! so the tree will fall and make noise, even if no one is there to listen.”

“very good, darling. now, can we pleases eat before the food is cold?”

for the years to follow, her answer jumped from yes, to no, to maybe, and even to “perhaps the tree never even fell, maybe it grew horizontally instead of vertically!”.

with no real way to decipher the truth, the girl had made peace with the fact that the rest of her days would pass her by and she’d still have no definitive conclusion. it became a comfort of sorts, a question she could ponder when the storm raged a little too loudly and rattled the windows of the lonesome cottage; or when she ran out of messes to clean and crops to pick; or when her father returned from his travels, arms filled with more books for her pile and ears ready to hear what new theories she’d come up with.

by the time she reached womanhood, the girl lost all want for a true answer, finding the real enjoyment came from the not knowing right from wrong.

until one night, a noise was heard.

she’d been stood at the very edge of the cottage’s land, right between the meadow and the great dark valley of trees, head tilted up at the stars. it was the early days of winter, leaving the nights longer and colder than ever, and while she typically would have been found curled up in the comfort of her bed and a good book, she’d been lured outside by a flash of light.

like nothing she’d seen before, this light was not the familiar ice cold white of a lighting bolt cracking through the air, nor the twinkling of a shooting star traveling the night sky. this was red, angry, foreboding. it terrified her to see, fire lighting the up the night sky, just as one of her books had foretold.

“and there will come a day, when the seven are tired and our sins are too many, that the stranger will rip the sun from it’s place above and let it crash down upon us, flames and all.”

[houseofhyde]

all these things that i have done. aemond targaryen.

hey, thank you for your ask <3 here, have a little snippet of all these things that i have done ! wip ask game.

loss has never been a stranger to aemond targaryen.

the feeling of losing is one the prince has worn on his sleeve, like a house bears it's sigyl, long before he knew what the word even meant.

from his first cry, fresh out of the queen's womb and thrust into a room that was too bright, too cold and too unfamiliar, he'd already lost the love a son was supposed to receive from his father. in it's absence he'd found double the affection from his mother and, though she was a troubled soul herself, she done what she could to make her third child feel just as important as her first son and daughter.

pitifully, it never quite worked.

by age eight, he attempted to accept the loss of hope that his dragon egg would ever come to hatch. while his siblings and dark-haired nephews all trained alongside their own mounts, he was forced to watch from the sidelines, each time their bonded creature obeyed their commands becoming a new twist of the knife in the dragon shaped hole within his chest. like his father's love was replaced with his mother's, a friend had taken the place of a dragon.

and though you could not fly, you certainly made his heart soar.