#He has my whole heart and I would do absolutely anything to see him alive and happy

[wayfinderships]

Silly little Dissidia game really reminded me that the end of C.risis C.ore exists and expected me to be okay with that, huh?

[komaniyaexpress]

— is this .. me?! .. ♪

sagau — they find a piece of artwork made by the creator; of .. them.

— featuring furina, wanderer, freminet, and neuvillette .. ♪

cw. none wc. 200-400 ea.

furina

it goes without saying .. furina is ecstatic. i mean.. why wouldn’t she be? she wouldn’t make this known, however, because “of course you’re going to wish to capture my enthralling beauty on paper — it’s only fair when faced with such divine radiance!” inside.. she’s a mess. her widened eyes flit over every tiny detail, every little stroke of the pen or paintbrush. “enthralling beauty”, she says, “divine radiance”, she says — but is she truly talking about herself or the way you interpreted her? never in all the centuries she’d been alive would she admit this, but she couldn’t help but feel as if you had made her look much more ethereal than she truly was. she does make it known that she likes it, though. when you turn away from her and murmur something about how you’re not the most proud of this particular piece, she scoffs indignantly. “what? how— ugh, how could you ever say such a thing? do you dare question my judgement?!” she leans back against the couch, hardly able to focus on the taste of the small pastry half-eaten in her hand. she’s incredibly grateful it’s only you two alone, because she has an entirely embarrassing blush upon her face as she chews.

wanderer

“.. seriously?” he kind of just.. glares at it. i’m sorry, but i don’t really know what you were expecting. depending on the kind of mood he’s in, he’ll either simply cast it aside without a second glance or attempt to mockingly chew you out over it. it doesn’t matter whether he actually likes it or not; he is not going to let you live it down. he’s not amused, but i can’t really imagine him actually getting upset about it either. he’ll scoff, maybe roll his eyes if he’s feeling generous enough, then go about his day without another thought to it. even with his nonchalant, near-annoyed demeanor over the whole thing, when you’ve left and he’s alone — he looks for it again and stares at it like he didn’t get to before. as his eyes travel the lines that form a quite accurate depiction of his visage — implying you spent a lot of time looking at him — he can’t help but wonder why, of all people, you chose him as your muse. he does.. appreciate the sentiment, though, even if he’ll never voice it. he catches himself before he spirals. it doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. with a huff, he sets it down again and crosses his arms, trying to ignore the fact it does indeed make him feel.

freminet

if you were expecting anything other than freminet being an absolute mess.. you’d be sorely mistaken. of course, he’s not upset at all. he’s just.. very, very embarrassed. he loves your art, he does. he doesn’t want you to misconstrue this, and makes sure you know it’s not your problem, but his own. make sure to reassure him. the moment he lays his eyes upon it, it’s evident; his eyes widen almost comically, and, suddenly, he has the surely inexplicable urge to run for his life. that wouldn’t be fair to you, though, so he bites it back and forces himself to stay put. the gears whir in his mind like he’s a piece of the machinery he holds so dear. he doesn’t know how to thank you — should he thank you? he doesn’t know what to say at all, more like. he clears his throat, unable to get any words out; his mouth goes dry and his heart practically beats out of his chest, all the while he’s looking just as frozen in time as your rendition of him. he lets out an audible sigh of relief when you reassure him that he doesn’t need to speak. he can’t handle you when you stare at him like this, and asks if you’d be okay with him putting on his diving helmet. once you’ve given him your permission — which you reiterate he doesn’t need — he quickly places it over his head, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you can no longer see his face. his gaze doesn’t leave the art, not for a moment. he stands still and stares at it, unable to tear his eyes away from the lines that, somehow, paints a clear picture of.. him. that you made. he still does not make any move to talk, and he’s very glad that you’re so understanding. eventually, he murmurs an apology, and through the lump in his throat, reassures you that (if there was ever any doubt), he likes it.

neuvillette

it was raining. it had been raining all day. naturally, this worried you, and your first thought was to check up on neuvillette. exhausted yet unchanging, neuvillette sifted through his paperwork without taking a single break to rest. however, all things must, and eventually, his tire overcame him — letting out a sigh, he placed his palm upon his forehead and leaned into it, his eyes fluttering closed. it took him a moment to open them again, but when he finally did.. after such a long day, eyes sore with the strain of reading fine print jammed together so thickly the pages looked more inky than ivory, the last thing he expected was to see was a piece of blank paper on his desk. curious, he picks it up and flips it over, assuming it to be more writing on the other side — only to be met with.. himself, staring right back at him. the neuvillette now is slightly slouched over, eyes drooping with the weight of an unrelenting week. he’s unable to see his true reflection — in a mirror or water, not a near-perfect version of him on paper — so he couldn’t really tell, but even so, he can’t help but feel as if this version of him must appear much more composed. he pushes the thought away, stares at the piece a bit closer, and he eases a bit. not only was it a splendid break to the monotony of monochromatic paperwork, it was made by you. it’s now that you walk into the room. in a split second, you realize what he’s holding. you blink. he smiles, gentle and soft. the rain stops pouring.

[jackiepackiee]

Hear me out. What if one day Chuuya finds out that the reader was also experimented on.

TW:scars, leaked information, trauma

Chuuyax reader

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓍𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓁𝒶𝒷 𝒶𝒷𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

Chuuya is DEVASTATED

How come his sweet and gentle lover has been hurt

He would take every ounce of pain from you into himself if given the chance

And his initial reaction, however he found out, will be hard to stomach

He’s in shock

“No… no no that’s not true. You had that good childhood, and you’ve been treated good by everyone. Just like you deserve, right? Right?”

Wide eyes traveled the room mindlessly. His brain was too occupied by thoughts to see anything beyond patches of color and light.

It was obvious what was going on in his head.

First, his experience. What he knows of the pain that still cause shakes and shivers in his body. The absolute mental devastation caused by the storm in his heart and mind from knowing his past.

Secondly, he sees you in the same position. Screaming, blood over your plush skin. Eyes dazed, far away from the world around you. Whatever world you may have been in that allowed you to be treated so poorly. Because if you had gotten hurt, it must’ve been a world Chuuya wasn’t part of.

“Right?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry? No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, don’t you dare say that.”

In a split second he crossed the distance and pulled you into his chest.

“I’ll kill them all.”

Of course he would lie down his life for you, but this information increases that tenfold

You’re not fragile, that much is obvious, but after learning how close you were to death he strives for your life

Whatever it takes

“Chuuya, I do not need a bodyguard. It’s just down the block! And this boy needs a walk anyways!”

The dog barked in agreement, sorta. But Chuuya would not budge. No puppy eyes work on him when it comes to your safety.

“No. You can talk him on the walk, and go to the market. But one of my subordinates is going with you. I have some emails to write.”

“But!”

“No buts, love. It’s for your own good.”

He pet the doggies head while speaking sternly to you. Little did you know, it wasn’t just one subordinate. He had a whole team on your saftey detail at all times outside of work and home.

And if those scientists are still alive?

Not anymore… it will be a MASSACRE that the news will cover for months

“Hey baby, did you see the news this morning?”

You asked, on a whim as you scribbled a shitty signature on some paperwork.

“No, why?”

“Some old facilities blew up. It was crazy. Reports said none of the victims died in the explosion. They all died by these terrible and violent ways. Like torture and stuff… gives me the chills.”

That was his cause, you. The cute way you told him about every little thing you heard. The funny actions you do to make show of your words.

All his to watch, and not theirs to ruin.

“No baby, I didn’t hear about that. How interesting.”

I hate to bring it up, but it makes him feel worse about himself

How can you, someone who went through the same as him, still be so kind?

Why isn’t he like you?

He doesn’t see himself as sweet or gentle, he’s a monster and a threat to everyone he loves

And he thinks he lacks the humanity that you “still have” that allowed you to grow so kind

You stalked into the bedroom, tense at the fact that the door was closed. He usually would leave it open?

“Chuu? I saw your shoes at the door, I know you’re home-”

There he was, his ginger hair on full display. Hat in his hands to his chest. Said chest on his knees, curled into a ball of black clothing.

His torso expanded and contracted with each exchange of air.

“…was it work? Meetings with Mori su-”

Words failed. Minuscule things such as meetings at work would cause this. Would cause Chuuya Nakahara to cry.

“You weren’t supposed to be home.”

“…what?”

“You weren’t supposed to be home. I was supposed to be alone, and… and I- I dunno.”

Whines left his mouth when you kissed his cheek.

As if Judas to Jesus, he burned at your affection. Unworthy of something so…human.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Living, and loving. That’s what you’ve done.”

This isnt meant to be spicy, but sex is sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

And obviously if you’re going to be doing that, he’ll see your scars

For a couple who both has their fair share of scars, this likely isn’t the way the experiments were revealed

It takes a hell of a lot of trust to show yourself so vulnerable to anyone

But he loves each indent

He sees not the pain, but the growth then on

When you cuddle, he’ll get dazed and start rubbing circles on section of skin

Doesn’t mind them at all, even if they are dark and large

He has the same, and is no hypocrite

Not proofread lol

[alluring-starzzz]

VENOM NSFW ABC

Oh em gee! My first post : a simple venom x reader nsfw abc to get this whole tumblr thing started! 🤙

Gentle reminder that these are JUST my headcannons and aren’t meant to be taken to heart if anything is inaccurate to the character!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Venom is actually capable of empathetic emotions, so with you he’d be quite caring and get you whatever you need, maybe even run you a warm ( or cold if you like that ) bath and wash you up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

During sex, I’d say his favourite part of himself would be that tongue of his. On you, his favorite part would probably be your tits / chest. Adores seeing bite marks and hickeys all over your chest the next morning.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s oddly.. grayish? It’s like, tinted. If you sniff enough you can smell a faint faint smell. His cum is quite thick, too, probably has a thing for creampies.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has 100% fucked you on a rooftop during the day or in secluded public places, but he has fantasized about ravaging you infront of a full on *crowd.*

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Symbiotes reproduce asexually, so he has actually never fucked anyone before you, but let’s just say you got him hooked. 🤭

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl and doggy style just so he can get as deep as he can into you. He wants you to feel absolutely everything, and he wants to feel it all too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Although degrading, he makes a few hilarious jokes here and there. He likes to humiliate you sometimes with his jokes just to see you get all flustered.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has no hair at all, so I guess the carpet matches the drapes, LOL.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s caring and wants you to have the time of your life. He always asks if he went too far afterwards.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His species ( symbiotes ) reproduce asexually, so he’s never really thought about it before.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism, dirty talk, sensation play, brat taming, humiliation, degradation, exhibition.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A lot of people I’ve talked about before usually enjoy strictly the bedroom, but Venom *loves* the thrill and feels alive in high-risk situations. He loves when you two fuck in public ; sex clubs, park bathrooms, hiking trails, nude beaches, rooftops, in your car in a Walmart parking lot.. Fuck, you name it and he’ll be ON IT!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you tease him in public or kiss his neck he’ll go insane, feral, even. He’s impulsive and will immediately drag you to the nearest bathroom even if you meant it as a joke.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👏 FIRE 👏 PLAY. 👏 That is literally his weakness as a symbiote and will NEVER do it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He *loves* giving, especially with that long ass wet tongue of his. He could wrap it easily around your cock / can go as deep as you can fathom inside you. He knows exactly how to use it, too. Loves to overstimulate you and edge you. He’s also fine with receiving too, but would much rather give.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, for sure. He’s massively hypersonic and can go so fast you can’t think. Makes you *cry.*

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

We all know venom is impulsive. He’ll definitely be down if you were to ask in almost any given time. Doesn’t do it too often, although.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

YES. 100000% YES. He loves risks, the thrill makes his blood run cold and he fucking *loves* it. He’s game to experiment as long as it doesn’t make him uncomfortable or hurt you too bad.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last for as long as you want, baby. But he knows you’ll tap out quickly, he knows how to tire you out and have you completely satisfied after.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s impulsively bought a few… when I said a few I mean a *lot.* He uses them on both himself and you. Also loves getting you lingerie or costumes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a teasing master, he knows exactly how to make you go absolutely stupid.. but he’s impatient so it doesn’t last long haha.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s moderate. He makes feral growls, groans, and hisses through his sharp teeth. It makes your stomach turn and twist everytime.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He knows when someone’s lying and when they’re being truthful.. so he specifically asks you questions he knows you’ll lie about or deny just to punish you. He also encourages you to have people join in, he loves having you get all the pleasure you can get.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dude.. He’s 7’6 and 500 pounds… his dick is HUGE. GIRTHY. LONG. 😭

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Wasn’t extremely high before he met you, but as soon as he learned what intimacy was first hand... oh man.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t think venom can sleep, ( can he ? ), so he just lets you go to bed and caresses you throughout the night.

[bellewintersroe]

I DO HAVE A BOB REQ👀 it's heavy angst mixed with a comforting ending, but how would they react (whenever u want but in my faves are Liebgott and Roe) to them thinking their s/o (nurse maybe?) somehow died while saving someone or similar, but actually she managed to escape and run and she reconnects with the battalion a few days later? all battered and bruised but still alive EVEN BETTER IF SHE TAKES TO SAFETY THE PERSON SHE WAS HELPING because imagining them seeing their girl that they thought was dead coming back quite literally from hell alive is AGH💘

I LOVEEEE THIS!!! Thank you Anon I’m excited to write this <3 <3

Warning: mentions of death, grief, war, wounds, etc.

Easy Boys x EasyNurse! Reader - How They React To You Going MIA.

Gene Roe:

- Gene knew (thinks) you were in the church as soon as he watched the bomb explode.

- He kinda freezes and he literally feels his insides running cold and a sickness go through him.

- Can’t be real, I can’t express the level of trauma, pure horror and devastation he feels in that moment. It doesn’t end, the whole time he fully thinks you’re gone. It doesn’t help that the rest of the company are questioning him and going through their own grief for your loss.

- He wants to escape it as much as possible but he knows he can’t. He feels like a statue, completely glued to his foxhole, he runs on autopilot and Winters is about to send him off the line.

- I feel like Gene would have a pretty bad breakdown (understandable) when he’s by himself so he’s not showing the full affects of what he believes is your loss.

- doesn’t help he has absolutely NO answers. He plays the moment over and over again, torturing himself by picturing your last moments, imagining himself being just an hour earlier and getting you out of that church.

- Gene even wished he was with you when that damn bomb went off.

- 3 days pass and Gene’s sat in his foxhole, alone, staring at the enemy line. He’s near enough given up, no gloves, no blanket, he can’t eat, cant sleep.

- “Doc, Captain Winters needs you, pronto.”

- He literally feels like a zombie walking to where he’s needed. All he can think of is you, it’s painful, he can literally feel his chest yearning and breaking and his grief is too much.

- “Yeah we found her running around with the I-company boys, got a little lost, didn’t ya’ nurse?” A man’s words cause Gene’s ears to prick. He can’t see anything but a taller man facing Winters and Nixon with a smaller figure, blanket huddled over- you.

- Ugh- feels like his hearts about to explode. Literally freezes and thinks he’s going to be sick. His heart accelerates and when he hears your voice he quite literally feels faint. 

- “got caught up with a patient there!” You turn around, sending a presence and both of you feel the intense hit of shock to be confronted with one another again. “Excuse me a minute…”

- All of a sudden you’re limping towards Gene. Your forehead is covered with 2 butterfly plasters and you have a nasty bruise under your right eye. Gene thinks he’s seen a ghost.

- Probably hesitates for a moment before you pull him aside, away from where the other men can see. “Gene.” You’d soothe and he’d let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

- Crashes into you. Literally grips you so tightly, he feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes are teary and it’s not until you let out a small yelp that he pulls back.

- “It’s okay, it’s fine Gene, it’s just a bruise.” Hearing your voice sends him into a spiral and he’s even more careful now to pull you close.

- Holds a hand to the back of your head, practically cradles you with wide eyes.

- “I thought- I thought you was dead.” He admitted.

- “No, I got caught up with a patient. After the church got bombed I managed to pull a patient out, Billy from I company- got lost on their lines for a few days, they took me in.”

- Soon enough he’s stammering with quivering hands, checking over you, asking if you’re okay. Winters had called a medic after all.

- Can’t stop looking at you, questioning if it’s all a dream, you’d catch him pinching himself. “Don’t do that Gene, I’m right here.” With a small hand on his cheek he can breathe again.

- Holds your hands tightly, the most affection he can show you in front of all the superiors. He’s still extremely tense, in shock from the close call, but he promises to keep an extra close eye on you, and he keeps that promise.

- Kisses your cuts and bruises when nobody’s looking, probably runs his hand over his face in surprise quite a few times, but honestly he’s sooo fucking relieved, like he actually cried when he saw you.

- “I love you so much, ya can’t do that to me again, evuh’.” With his little accent and a serious tone, ugh he’s a sweetie pie.

Joseph Liebgott:

- It happens in Eindhoven out of all the places.

- One minute you’re both celebrating together, with the rest of the company and the whole town and the next you’re not stationed with the rest of the nurses?

- The town gets bombed and barraged by the Germans that evening and he’s watching in pure horror. Recounts of nurses being KIA during the bombing spread real fast, and he refuses to believe what Battalion HQ are telling him.

- He’s shaking his head real fucking fast, denying and denying to all of them and himself.

- Throws a fucking riot- until he has to practically run off to be alone, wrenching and shaking at the idea that have could’ve happened to you.

- His anger and violence stems out of control, Winters removes him off the line real fucking fast, like he becomes a runner or something just for a break.

- Fraternisation is banned under all conditions, but relationships and affairs still take place, even the most superior of officers know that. So sometimes eyes are averted and now is one of those times that people choose to do that and help Liebgott through his grief.

- But 2 days have passed and it’s so raw, everybody’s in shock and disbelief at your lack of presence, for Joe he’s bottling up a painfully bitter feeling and he’s ready to explode.

- He never thought it would happen to you, you’re a nurse for Christ sake! Genuinely has to pause sometimes to just stop- like he can’t take it. Becomes so close to being sent to the aid station until one today he’s attempting to run a letter back to Battallion HQ when he see’s the back of a young woman wrapped in a blazer, overalls looking very familiar to your own.

- His heart genuinely gets shooting pains and he has to swallow the urge to cry as he watches this woman who painfully resembles you. Her khaki headscarf is bloody and he watches as another officer (he assumed from Dog) guides you inside the building.

- In fact he’s about to look away, until this girls head tilt to the side. He only catches a brief glimpse of her profile, Joe has to squint real hard when he feels his stomach drop.

- His mind has to be playing tricks on him so he turns away as the nurse rushes to aid a man on a stretcher.

- Slams the jeep door, literally kicks a dint into it as he storms his way through town. He just wants to deliver these fucking letters as fast as possible.

- “No, no, he’s German. He helped me out of Eindhoven, you must take care of him!”

- Joe’s head snaps just as he’s shoving the letters into some poor guys arms. He freezes, head lifting at the sound of your voice.

- “What the fuck?” He mutters, stepping a little closer. His breathing and heart speeds when he hears your voice again.

- “Sister. Make sure he gets to the infirmary, please… thank you.”

- He’d recognise that voice from anywhere.

- Literally feels like he’s choking when he stomps over, lost for words and breath and grabs hold of your arm.

- With a gasp, you stand there, bloody and bruised and protecting some Kraut soldier.

- You’re about to protest again until you come face to face with Joe, and suddenly your voice gets hitched in your throat, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

- “Joe!” It’s you that jumps into hug him first.

- Joe grips you tightly, “what the hell are you- what the hell are you doin’ here? Baby- y/n, I thought you were dead.”

- He has to pull back and hold your face to take a look at you and make sure it’s actually you.

- You can feel him shaking, and suddenly your attention is just on Joe and Joe only. He’s practically smothering you, not sure where to put his hands as he lets out a shaky breath.

- “Holy fuck I thought I lost you. They said you were gone. I knew you wouldn’t, I knew you wouldn’t leave me.” He gets super emotional so you two have to take a break somewhere real quick.

- By that I mean in the aid station where you’re supposed to be being patched up but Joe does that for the medic.

- “God dammit you are so stupid, you idiot, I thought I lost you.”

- “The German officer saved me Joe, he pulled me outta the rubble.”

- “he what?! Did he touch you, are you ok?”

- “He’s a nice man, Joe. I wouldn’t be here without him. He’s hurt so I got a little lost taking him back to the infirmary.”

- “nice guy? Baby d’ya got a concussion?”

- you scold him a little and soon he’s back to stroking your face and pulling you onto his lap, taking in as much as you as he possibly can.

- “Never leave me baby. Never leave me like that again.”

[mllemarianne]

Deserving

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Strong!Reader

Part 1: Deserving Part 2: Indulging Part 3: Striving

Summary: When you are betrothed to another, Aemond doesn’t want to address it strangely. Annoyed by his reaction, you reminisce about your whole relationship and everything that led to this very night, during the storm, in a tiny inn room with only one bed…

Word count: 11.5k 

Warnings: Angst and tension (so much), fluff and smut (4.5k words of it!) Slow burn, forced proximity, mutual pinning, friends to lovers. English is my second language.

N/A: The way Aemond was portrayed on the show broke my heart. I felt like writing an angsty, emotional and smutty little story about how Aemond’s childhood trauma would affect his relationship with the love of his life. House Strong is alive and no war is afoot in this story. Hope you like it! Masterlist | AO3

“Won’t you say anything at all, my prince?” you asked, your head on his shoulder, looking in his deep violet eye to gauge his reaction.

He opened his mouth hesitantly but avoided your stare. He pressed his lips in a hard line, exhaled loudly through his nose and looked back ahead, concentrating on getting the both of you through this raging storm with Vhagar.

He kept to himself what he was about to say. Again.

You knew you spoke harshly, and you knew how he hated it when you used a formal title to address him. But after all these years, after everything, you thought he was simply aggravating.

You grew up together. You were Aemond’s only real friend, even, so he knew of your short temper and your sharp tongue. He was the same. Yet you could not help but feel heartbroken at the silence he served you this very moment. One thing was certain: you were leaving and it did not please him.

You thought telling him the news after a nice day of flying around and visiting the Stormlands was a good idea. If you were honest with yourself, you hoped he would finally snap and do something. Anything. 

It became a nightmare instead.

The storm was terrible and getting worse by the minute. Drenched from head to toe, your whole body was shaking uncontrollably from the cold. It seemed like you would never be warm again, even if you were on top of a gigantic fiery beast like Vhagar, even as your whole front was pressed against Aemond’s back with your arms circling his waist.

Soaring in the sky on your way back to the Red Keep, you yelpt as the dragon nearly hit a mountain hidden in the dark clouds.

“We have to stop, it is too dangerous.” Aemond warned you before the dragon instantly dived for a clearing near a small village. Holding onto him even tighter, you were absolutely terrified of being thrown off the beast’s back when you landed harshly in some meadow.

He grabbed you by the waist to ease your landing as you jumped down the large net fixed to Vhagar’s side. He went near the dragon’s head, pressed a hand to her scales and softly spoke some words in high valyrian to her. 

Brilliant. His dragon got more words out of him than you did. 

Vhagar seemed to cover herself with one of her large wings as she laid down on the wet grass. When Aemond walked back to you, you raised one hand and adjusted his hood over his head in order to hide his distinctive long silvery hair.

He looked at you with softness in his eye and you heard the faintest of "hm" escape from his chest before he turned around.

You walked fast in the downpour. The silence getting unbearable, you decided to tell him more about your father’s plans.

“The Reach has nice weather, I suppose.” he said, after a long pause.

“...Not as nice as King’s Landing’s don’t you think?” “Maybe you're right…” he replied.

You spoke of never seeing him again and he wanted to discuss the weather?

Tears started to pool in your eyes and you knew your voice would soon start trembling. You stopped talking altogether and walked silently in the heavy rain until you reached what could only be an inn.

“Only one room left, I’m ’fraid. You want it anyway?” asked the innkeeper. Seeing you shivering, he poured ale in two cups and handed you one. Aemond refused. You accepted.

“We’ll take it. And some wine, if you have it.” Aemond answered, dropping a few coins on the counter.

The old man then turned to you.

“How ‘bout you, girl?” he inquired, looking straight down at your soaked dress clinging to your body. "You’re not bad lookin. D’you have time for me later? How much? Love me self some curly hair—.”

“She’s mine,” Aemond growled before you could answer. He moved to shield you from the innkeeper’s wandering eyes and put a hand on his sheathed knife. “And you will not address her in this manner ever again, do you understand?”

He sounded calm. You could not see his face but you knew he looked anything but. Your hand reached for his arm, the one grasping the knife. There was no need for bloodshed, what if there were no other place you could go to in this damn storm? He did not budge, eye fixed on the innkeeper.

“The room, please. Now.” He insisted.

The tension was high, and other patrons began to look your way. The innkeeper seemed to chew on his cheek, definitely not liking the way his customer had threatened him. After what felt like an eternity, the old man grabbed a jug full of wine and handed it to Aemond.

"Upstairs, follow me."

Down a small corridor, you stopped in front of a wooden door. The innkeeper gave Aemond the key and left without a word. Not even looking at you.

The room surely was not as spacious as the one you had in the Red Keep. It was clean, at least, which was a relief in itself as you felt grubby from all the rain and mud. There were two armchairs and a table in front of a large hearth where a fire burned brightly. Gods be good, you thought.

Aemond put down the wine jug on the table and looked around. Then he saw it too.

There was only one bed. The smallest bed your both very privileged selves had ever seen, in fact.

“Take it,” he said under his breath. You see him peeling his hood from his leather clad tunic, leaving it carelessly on the floor. He put down his knife on the table before he slouched in an armchair, throwing his head back and closing his eye.

“Don’t be ridiculous, there’s enough space for the both of us. We used to nap together in the gardens all the time when we were younger, what’s the difference?” you replied.

“It wouldn’t be proper.” he mumbled, to which you chuckled slightly.

You just spent the day clinging to his whole body while flying around on Vhagar’s back. How proper was it when he would let you feel every muscle he had on his chest while you held onto him. How proper was it when you buried your nose in his neck and he sighed. You felt his heart beating faster every time your hands changed spots, trying to warm them. He could not possibly be serious with his talk of propriety.

“It’s only me, Aemond.”

“You are betrothed.” he said in a cold tone he never used with you before.

Now you were the silent one.

You looked at him for a while, frozen in place. In all these years, had he never thought of marrying you?

You were betrothed to another, and he acted as if it was a matter of no importance. You were leaving King’s Landing and he would not address it. All he had to do was say the words you longed to hear. “Stay”, for one... 

“You are staring” he taunted, startling you with his mixed signals.

You turned around but still glanced at him from the corner of your eye. Truthfully, you could not stop looking at him. His neck… his jawline… the rain gave curls to his long hair cascading down the backrest of his armchair… You were particularly fond of his hair like that. It was a rare sight. 

“Sorry if I was expecting you to be civilized and have a conversation with me.” you sneered. “You know, while we still can. ”

How could he be so calm? Nobody knew where you were. A prince, his dragon and the daughter of the Hand were missing. You imagined your father would be absolutely mortified. Then again, he knew you. You were not one to follow the rules and getting stuck in a storm was exactly the kind of tomfoolery he would expect from you. Somehow, this time, it seemed worse.

Both of you were drenched; confined to one small room; completely alone, in the middle of nowhere.

But as bad as it was, you thought it was the perfect situation. You could both have what you always wanted. So why was he holding back?

She’s mine, he said. His words kept echoing in your head.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Still shivering, you knew the only way to ever feel warm again was to let your dress dry. Only, of all the scenarios you built in your head about your adventures in the Stormlands, undressing in front of him was not what you imagined— No. No, that was a lie.

You imagined it. You imagined it almost every night lately, in fact.

At the hour of owl, while you laid naked on the large bed in your chambers, you imagined his hands roaming free on your body. You would pretend he caressed your hardening breasts, pressed his curled lips on the most intimate part of you… you would even whisper his name ever so faintly when reaching your peak with your fingers…

All of a sudden, you felt like you were burning. You poured yourself a cup of wine and gulped half of it, for confidence if anything.

If he would not say a thing, then you would take charge. You waited long enough for this.

You remembered when it began, when you were 13 years of age...

Both of you felt left out when all the children went to the dragon pit. Not having a dragon was particularly hard for Aemond. His older brother and nephews were bullying him incessantly for it. It made him hopeless, like he was not a real Targaryen. However, the time he did not spend on dragonback, he spent with you.

Every evening, you would be in the library, trading books you enjoyed. Your father was a scholar and knew the importance of giving an adequate education to both his sons and daughters. It also meant you could train in the yard with the other boys.

You were good. Aemond was better.

Sometimes, the both of you would sneak into the kitchens at night to steal pastries and enjoy them secretly in the gardens. 

One night in particular, while you laid in the tall grass and looked at the starry sky with bellies full of lemon cakes and candied plums, he propped up on one arm, grabbed your neck and swiftly kissed you.

Stunned, you giggled. He shrugged, embarrassed.

Filled with remorse, you grabbed his tunic, pulled him closer and kissed him back. He seemed shocked, but you found a glimpse of relief in his gaze.

Then you licked half his face in retaliation.

Laughing loudly, you almost woke the entire castle as you chased each other through the echoing stone hallways. You were both so young, but you never forgot that moment. How it had been strange to have him press his lips on yours but also how you secretly enjoyed it. 

Or not so secretly. After that, he liked teasing you. Sometimes, when you would least expect it, and in the most inconvenient of places, he planted a kiss on your lips. Everytime, he stepped back to enjoy your reaction; the flush on your cheeks, your surprised stare and most of all, he waited to see if you would kiss him back. Once, Ser Criston almost caught you playing that little game when you were training with daggers. You had the upper hand, but as you were about to say “yield”, he distracted you with his kiss and the next thing you knew, you hit the ground, bested by your opponent.

Then came that night.

You were not there when it happened. While he did something extraordinary and claimed the largest dragon in the world, his nephews and nieces saw it as arrogance and resented him bitterly. The siblings argued that the lady Rhaena should have been the one to claim her mother’s dragon.

But “Dragons are no slaves. A bond can not be forged purely out of legacy,” you remember reading in a book once.

Fists balled up, knives came out and blood was drawn. Everybody gathered in the hall, including you and your father the Hand. Now the adults were fighting too.

You learned that Aemond called his nephews bastards. But that was not all. He also claimed they were your older brother’s bastards.

Even though it pained you to hear such slander, you were more concerned about your friend. You knew something bad happened. You could see blood all over his tunic. Unfortunately, every time you tried to approach him, he turned his head around so you could not see.

Then Queen Alicent attacked Princess Rhaenyra, asking for her son’s eye in retribution. It dawned on you that Aemond lost an eye that night.

He scurried out of the hall with his mother and Ser Criston in tow before you could speak to him. You tried to go to his room but he would not let you in.

Claiming Vhagar was a big deal. He had a dragon now. His most ardent wish came true. You knew he would want to tell you all about it. You even imagined traveling to King's Landing on dragonback with him.

To your dismay, Driftmark slowly disappeared in the fog as you stood on the ship deck. Alone.

You saw Vhagar rise from Driftmark’s sandy beach dunes and fly way up above you. The beast was so large, its shadow made it seemed like it was night for a moment. You watched as the dragon disappeared in the horizon with your friend as well. Then and there, you almost felt like he was stolen from you.

You only saw him again when you got to King’s Landing two days later. He wore a bandage on half his head and you wondered why he had to cover such a large portion of his face.

With hindsight, you realized he did not wish for you to see him at his worst. You knew about the eye, but not the long scar that now marred his face.

His wound eventually healed but some insensitive comments took their toll on him, you assumed.

“They saw me without the bandage. They are scared of me,” he once said to his mother, not knowing you heard from across the room.

“You are not scary, my sweet boy.” replied Queen Alicent, embracing her precious son in her arms. “Ask y/n. If your own mother can’t convince you, then maybe she will. Just be mindful of your words. They can be harsh sometimes. Despite the many rumors surrounding her brother and Princess Rhaenyra, don’t slander her house. She will grow to resent you.”

He nodded. And he showed you his face that day.

First, you noticed the eyepatch. But then you saw the long scar that went from his forehead to his jaw. Oh how he looked at you intensely, searching for any glimpse of disgust on your face. 

All he found was sorrow.

You could not even begin to imagine the pain he went through. You almost felt it yourself.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you… does it hurt?”

“Sometimes. It’s numb, mostly. I did try to do something with… you know–” he said, pointing at the leather eyepatch. “– but a few servants saw me and they looked terrified…I’ll have to get used to wearing it.” When you asked what he meant, he reluctantly took off the eyepatch and showed you. Where his right eye should have been was now a gemstone. The biggest you had ever seen, in fact.

“It’s beautiful, Aemond,” you admitted, genuinely. Truth be told, you were mesmerized. It looked nice, stylish even. “It’s a sapphire, isn’t it? I like it, it matches the colors of my house.”

Sadly, your kind words of reassurance did not appease him. Thereafter, you only ever saw him with the eyepatch. Your words did have an impact on him, however.

As you got to the library one night, you found a velvet pouch on the desk you usually sat at.

“You said it was the color of your house.” he spoke, shy.

In the pouch was a silver necklace with dangling pearls and a beautiful blue sapphire in the middle. Seeing how you loved it, Aemond gave you the most genuine smile you had seen him do since the accident.

You tried to kiss him as you so often did, but you stopped the moment you saw the look in his eye. He seemed uneasy. You held his hand instead and thanked him. You never wore anything else.

Then, things started to change.

Soon enough, you both were 18 years of age...

Aemond’s whole demeanor changed, in fact.

You saw how people were looking at him. How they stared at the eyepatch instead of his eye when talking to him. The fake compliments he received and the snickers when they walked away from him. 

You knew it affected him greatly but he never let it show. He became calm and collected. He kept his sharp tongue for his nephews and nieces though. You knew he still held a grudge after all these years and frankly, you could not blame him. But for someone so clever and calculating, sometimes he did not think.

“Come. Let us drain our cups to these three Strong Boys,” he said once, in front of the whole Targaryen family, including you, during dinner.

It started a brawl. Again.

Wounded by the harshness of his words thrown about your family, you stood up and left.

Resenting the people responsible for his missing eye was one thing, but did he have to bring your older brother into this once more? If that is what he thought of your house, what could he be thinking of you then?

Realizing all too late he hurt you in the process, Aemond followed you to your chambers and begged for your forgiveness.

You did, for he was your dearest friend and seeing him beg was a sight in itself. You knew he did not mean to cause you pain, but you warned him that you would not have any more of it. 

After that, he was very careful with his words around you. Sometimes, he was awfully silent even. Words against House Strong cost him an eye once and resentment from you that night at dinner, afterall. So often he would answer with a simple “hm” now. It was infuriating, sometimes.

You felt his struggle. You hoped you could blow the cobwebs away by planning various adventures with him. You would leave on dragonback and visit neighboring regions. You drank dornish wine in fields of flowers; climbed mountains to enjoy the view; bathed in springs definitely too cold to be bathed in. He seemed more at ease when you were alone. He smiled, he jested. Ah you loved having him all to yourself.

Claiming Vhagar gave him so much confidence. Even Prince Aegon would not dare bully him now that Aemond was taller and stronger than him. He was an even better fighter too.

You still trained with the sword together in the morning. If you were honest with yourself, you liked training in the yard because you got to see Aemond in his training gear. He indeed grew taller. His shoulders were broader. His voice got deeper. He kept his hair long now too. He looked ethereal. You loved watching him practice his knife tricks, particularly how he spinned the handle between his now long and slender fingers.

You also loved to train with daggers because you would get closer to him. Swords kept you away but fighting with daggers and knives was so much more intimate. Sometimes you would let him beat you only to be held in his arms. Something about him pressing his body to yours while commanding you to yield made you feel all sorts of ways. 

Your septa told you time and time again that it was unladylike, especially at your age, to spend so much time fighting with boys.

You never listened.

There were also rumors that the princes were frequenting brothels in the street of silk. You believed it of Prince Aegon, but you knew Aemond was not for he spent his days in your company. He did have princely duties from time to time, but otherwise, even his evenings remained yours, in the library or in the gardens for a midnight stroll.

The only thing he never did again was kissing you.

You always acted surprised when he did that but in reality, you thoroughly enjoyed it. As the years went on, you began to think it was only a children's game.

Still, you would catch him staring at you quite often now. Once, you caught him glancing at your bosom while you were both reading in the library. He blushed so hard, you thought he stopped breathing all together.

It was you teasing him now.

Deep down, you knew how he felt about you. You felt the same way too. Maybe he just needed some encouragement.

You started with new dresses. They were tighter, low-cut and showed much more of your now adult body. You also decided that, from time to time, you would show up to your evening reading sessions in the library in nothing but your best nightgown and the necklace he gave you now resting in the valley between your plump breasts.

The first time he saw you so inappropriately dressed, you were delighted by his reaction. He did not blink once. He looked you up and down, greeted you and then never averted his eye from his book. He was holding onto the binding with such force his knuckles turned white. Even as you looked in his eye, there was no movement.

“Whatever is the matter, your grace?” you teased, using a formal title.

The prince was so shocked he could no longer read the wise words of Maester Octavis on warfare during Maegor The Cruel’s reign. He cooled down after a while…

…but it was your turn to burn now.

You pretended to be absorbed in your readings on the free cities of Essos, but you were only looking at his hands. The way his veins popped when he flexed his fingers; how he pinched the corners to turn a page; the slight stimming…

You were grateful your father never pressed the matter of marriage with you. As it happened, you reminded him so much of your late mother that he loved having you around in the Red Keep. He told you once he would wait for the perfect match and nothing else. Part of you hoped Aemond would eventually step up and ask for your hand.

Suddenly, the lords of the realm wanted to dance with you at balls and asked for your favor at tourneys. The attention you got overwhelmed you quite a bit. You tried dancing with potential suitors, but you weren’t remotely interested in any of them. Only your prince.

Aemond often swept in to make sure you were okay and that no lords were bothering you. Every time, he dared dance so close to you, you did not know how proper it was.

But did you care? Not really.

You could smell his hair. He smelled of amber and sandalwood. Each time, his scent would drive you mad with lust. The things you imagined him doing to you… and you to him. Not that you were well versed in the art. You had only ever touched yourself… thinking of him.

Thinking of his fingers trailing on your skin; his lips leaving burning kisses on your neck; his hands everywhere on your body but especially between your legs; you holding him close, so close you could feel every part of him, get lost in his scent, in his heat…

Despite your blatant inexperience… you had seen things.

One day, Aemond let you sit in front of him on Vaghar while you got back from one of your adventures near Gulltown. Riding Vhagar was an exhilarating experience in itself, but your mind was focused on the dragon behind you.

While you held the reins, Aemond held you. Tight.

You felt his breath on your neck. He nuzzled your shoulder. His warm hands sometimes caressed your sides, so close to your breasts… you could be wrong, but you swore he sighed at some point.

When you got back, Aemond had princely duties and could not join you in the library that evening.

You were rarely left to your own devices, it was unusual. The castle being so large, you decided to explore the wings you never go to to pass the time. 

The east tower was barely lit. It was late and its corridors were deserted even though you were close to the ever so busy servants quarters.

Then you heard noises. Voices, maybe? It kept echoing on the stone walls and vaulted ceilings.

You walked quietly to locate where it came from and happened upon two servants entwined in the throes of passion. Or at least, that is what you thought it was for you could barely see them in the dark. You were so curious, you could not help but peek.

Well hidden in a corner, the woman leaned against a wall, bunching her skirt up to her waist while the man seemed to devour her cunt. One leg over his shoulder, she was shuddering and mewling under his ministrations, completely lost in her pleasure. It was only after she moaned even loudly that the man let go of her shaking thighs, stood up, cupped her face with both hands and kissed her longingly.

Your whole body froze when you recognized the man’s long silvery white hair.

He turned her around and snaked his arms around her waist while he left searing kisses on her neck and shoulder. She bent over as he hurriedly unlaced his pants, kicking her feet so she spread her legs more.

You could not see from your angle but from the sounds that escaped her mouth, he took her.

Hard.

And she loved it.

You heard the lewd sound of flesh slapping while he pounded into her. He grunted as his fingers dug in her waist. His hair was untied and messy like you had never seen.

When you started panting yourself, you looked away. You knew you were witnessing something you should not. You made sure they could not hear the sound of your steps as you left the scene.

You did hear one more thing, though. Something that left you in quite a state.

He moaned your name.

You felt such a heat in your belly that you thought you were on fire. You never looked at him the same after that. You knew he burned for you as well. But why was he seeking pleasure in the arms of others when you were right there.

That night in your bedchambers, even as you gripped your sheets, writhing, moaning and coming for the third time… you thought your fingers would not do anymore.

You wanted more.

And you wanted him.

A little before your twentieth name day- yesterday, in fact...

Your father told you about your betrothal. The eldest son of Lord Martyn Tyrell of Highgarden was young, handsome, kind, educated, great with the sword and heir to his father’s title and castle. Your father had finally found you a match he deemed worthy of you. You were also to leave King’s Landing in a moon turn to meet your future lord husband and acquaint yourself with your new home. You felt your world shattering under your feet.

“Aemond is the man I wish to marry,” you declared.

“It’s Prince Aemond, to you. Don’t forget your place,” he corrected you. “And you know I can’t abuse the power the king conferred on me as Hand to arrange a match like that. My sweet girl, I know the prince is dear to you… but it is he who should ask the king for permission to marry you. Not me.”

That evening, you did not go to the library.

You cried in your bed until your head hurt, clutching the sapphire and pearl necklace Aemond gave you. When you heard him knocking on your door later, you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m fine,” you said through the door, trying to calm your shaky voice. “I was simply tired. Goodnight, Aemond.”

“Goodnight, y/n… see you in the training yard then.”

You did not go to train with him the next morning either.

You dreaded the moment when you would have no choice but to tell him. The sun was not high in the sky when he knocked on your door again. This time you answered. He looked you up and down, surprised to see you in a riding dress. “I missed you at training,” he confessed. “Going somewhere?” “Let’s leave the city for the day.” You said. “Do you think Vhagar would like to visit the Stormlands? I hear the water is so clear in Tarth they call it the sapphire isle.” “With all due respect, ‘tis I who decides where I fly my dragon, my lady,” he replied playfully, but you still felt a little ashamed of your boldness. “But yes, as you wish.”

And here you were. Struck in an inn, somewhere in the Stormlands, with a silent prince...

He almost seemed asleep in his armchair in front of the fire. You could not bear the silence anymore. If he had feelings for you, then you would make him speak plainly.

You downed the last half of your cup before you started undressing. First, your cloak.

As you hung it on a hook on the wall, you peeked at your prince. To your surprise, he did not move an inch. You can only see one of his hands stimming slightly on the armrest.

Your boots were next— a real agony considering how soggy they were and how painfully long it took to unlace them. Leaving wet footprints on the floor, you walked to the hearth and let them fall loudly in front of the fire. Your eyes flutter again to Aemond. 

No reaction.

At this point, you did not know if you were annoyed or downright infuriated. You looked at the small bed again and you could only think about him taking you like he did that maid.

You shook your head. You had to focus.

Tugging at the strings at your waist, your skirt pooled at your feet, thus revealing your legs. Thankfully, you had a small linen shift underneath, barely covering you down to your knees. You were putting down the skirt on the wooden table when you noticed it. Finally.

Even if the room was dark, only lit by the fire and the moonlight, you spied one violet eye gazing at you intently.

For a moment, you feared he could hear your heart beating frantically. His silence affected you greatly, but you found comfort in the fact that he could not resist looking at you undressing. Men seemed to be simple creatures, afterall.

You tried to unbutton the bodice of your dress but the stiff fabric made it hard for you to reach back. Why did clothes have to be so complicated to put on and take off. It dawned on you that you would need his help to get out of this wet mess of a dress.

Turning around quickly, thinking you would catch him staring, you saw his head facing the other way. You approached and stood between him and the fire. The shadow you casted made him look at you. 

"I need your help. Would you unbutton my bodice please." you managed to say calmly.

His stare was hard to decipher but he seemed conflicted. First he looked into your eyes… then his gaze fell down to your bodice… next it wandered to the silhouette of your legs. He could see every curve of your body, the fire behind you glowing through your white shift. You felt naked under his stare.

He looked serious. So serious his left hand stopped stimming. Slowly, he rose from the armchair and waited for you to turn around.

And you did. You were waiting for him to make a snarky comment or jest about what a proper lady you were, but again, you were cursed with silence. 

There were at least 15 buttons that went all the way down to your lower back. You felt his calloused hands brushing against your neck as he parted your long hair. A small sigh escaped your lips.

He went through each button at an excruciatingly slow pace. You hoped he felt the goosebumps appearing where his fingers touched you. The frisson was almost unbearable.

When he got to the last button, he froze momentarily. You could not take it anymore.

You turned around quickly, got up on your toes, reached for his neck and crashed your lips onto his. Just as he used to do when you were younger. His lips were unexpectedly soft. Not what you remembered, but better. You wished the kiss lasted longer, but now you waited for his reaction.

He only ever looked at you without blinking. He exhaled loudly, looking down at your bodice dangling off your shoulders, revealing the rest of your shift. His eye darkened and you were now worried you angered him.

“Y/n, please,” he pleaded. He sounded desperate and vexed all at once.

The dam burst.

"I am sorry Aemond. I know I spoke harshly when we were on Vhagar but this is ridiculous. I need to know how you feel about me leaving King’s Landing. I’m to leave for The Reach in a moon turn. I’m leaving, Aemond.” You said over and over to make sure he heard you loud and clear. “I understand if you hate me right now but I can’t stand the silence. I won’t have it. We will discuss this."

“I could never– hm– hate you.” he replied, startled mid sentence as you snatched the bodice off of you and threw it on the table behind him. Only wearing the shift and the necklace he gave you, you stood tall even if he towered over you.

“I’M LEAVING.” You repeated, losing patience.

“I KNOW.” He growled, losing his legendary calm and jolting you.

“Then say something!” you pressed, grabbing his tunic with both hands. “I don’t want to go to The Reach, Aemond. I want to stay in King’s Landing with you. I want you.”

There, you said it. Eye wide open, he looked down at you, then at your hands tugging at his clothes.

“Your days are mine already,” you said, pulling him to you, pressing your whole body to his. “I wish to claim your nights too.”

He seemed hesitant but mostly, he looked panicked. He clenched his jaw and his lips twitched as though he was about to say something so incriminating he feared putting it into words. 

His hands found your waist, rumpling the fabric of your shift. You slowly melted into his warm embrace. His breath was ragged. You waited for his answer. Your heart was about to burst from the anticipation.

“Say it. Say you want me too.”

And you waited some more. You could not draw breath. He tensed, opening his mouth to speak but not a single word coming out. Feeling the tears coming, you bit your lip to stop your chin from quivering.

Just like you knew he would, he stayed silent.

“Fine,” you abdicated. “Then I bid you goodnight, my prince ”.

You let go of his tunic but he held on to your arms. You angrily twisted yourself to get out. You held each other's gaze while you unceremoniously took off the necklace he gifted you and threw it on top of your discarded dress. You climbed in the bed, pulled the covers and turned to face the wall. 

It is said that silence is louder than words, sometimes. Well this time, it was deafening. 

From his shadow on the wall, you saw he did not move an inch. With cheeks wet from fresh tears, you curled up, desperately looking for warmth but the damn stone wall was so cold. It made you even more angry. In all your life, you had never felt so exasperated.

The silence stopped when you heard him pour wine in a cup. He drank it all. Then he started to undress.

You heard the thudding of his boots hitting the floor, one after the other… then the clinging of metal clasps… the creaking of his leather tunic… the clattering of his belt and pants hitting the floor…then silence again.

Unexpectedly, the sheets moved, sending cold air on your shivering body. You felt him hastily lying down on the bed next to you. You don’t know what came over you, but you said it anyway.

“I thought it would be improper”, your sharp tongue throwing his own words back at him.

“You are freezing,” he muttered.

He pressed his whole front to your back and rubbed your arm with his hand. When he buried his face in your neck, some of his long hair fell in front of you and you got overwhelmed by his amber and sandalwood scent. His breath on your shoulder sent shivers down your spine and almost made you arched your back into him. You were awfully confused, tears on your cheeks but desire brewing inside you.

You wished you had the will to pull away but you craved his touch. His hands were on you. Touching you, rubbing you, caressing you, now down your side.

For a daughter of House Strong, you sure were weak this instant.

He chose this moment to finally speak.

“You don’t want me, y/n.”

These few words gave you the strength to turn around and look him in the eye. His mixed signals were simply baffling. It almost drove you mad.

Though, when your gaze fell upon his face, you thought he looked defeated. You noticed he kept his undershirt and his eyepatch but wore nothing else.

“Is that an order, my prince?” you asked defiantly, tears still in your eyes.

“Just look at me.” He said harshly.

“That’s all I’ve been doing for years, Aemond.” 

“You can’t possibly want this.” he said, making a gesture at his head.

You cupped his face with your dainty fingers. Distressed as he was, he still welcomed your gentle touch. Then your hand traveled upwards and you hooked a finger beneath the leather band of his eyepatch. You waited for him to give you permission. “Let me see all of you.”

After a few seconds, he nodded. Uncovering his sapphire eye, it glinted with the light from the creaking fire. He closed his good eye when the pads of your fingers grazed his marred cheek. And when he felt your lips on the bottom of his scar, his breath caught in his throat.

“Why do you think I’d wear a damn nightgown to the library when it’s in the coldest part of the castle?” you asked in his ear, your cheek resting on the scarred side of his face. He sighed. One of his hands found your waist, pulling you slightly to him.

“Why do you think I was kissing you back when you teased me?” you added, reaching for his hair tie. His long silvery-white hair fell around his face.

“Aemond, I’ve been throwing myself at you for years now.”

“I know… I’m missing an eye, I’m not blind.”

Then you get it.

“Is that why you grew so distant? Do you think me so feeble that I would begrudge you for missing an eye?”

“Everybody does,” he admitted with a bitterness that crushed your heart. “Why do you think I train with the sword, study history and philosophy, and ride a huge fucking dragon daily? I have to be all of those things so people can see me as a man.”

“I don’t care about all that. Two eyes, one or even none, I don’t care. I just want you.”

“I don’t want that for you, don’t you understand?” he snapped, cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him straight in his eye. “You want to be married to the court’s freak? Is that what you want? To be the lady wife of the scary one-eyed prince? Hearing people snickering behind your back? See them turn around when you are coming their way with me at your arm? The nosy court ladies asking if I keep the eyepatch on all the time, even when I fuck you? You want that?”

At the sound of his harsh words, you circled your arms around him and held him close to you. Your words failed, but maybe your actions would prevail.

Your face buried in his neck and hair, you knew he needed the embrace more than you did. You felt his arms caging you in, even a leg wrapping around yours.

You knew it was bad, but you had no knowledge of how bad it really was. He never spoke about these things.

“There will come a day when you will resent me for casting this burden upon you and I could not bear to see you grieve a life free from relentless mockery.” He said in your ear. “I didn’t encourage you… because I knew you couldn’t possibly be happy with a cripple for a husband.”

“Stop it.” you whispered in his ear, silent tears streaming down your cheeks again.

You stayed like this for a long time. He nuzzled your shoulder, breathed in your scent, clinged to your whole body with his fingers stroking your hair and back. He craved your touch. He needed comfort. He spoke of sparing you, yet he undoubtedly desired naught but you. 

You fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was far from what you imagined it would be like, but at last, you claimed one of his nights.

It was almost morning...

When you woke up, the sky was light but the sun had yet to rise. The storm passed and warm fresh air flowed in from the open window. It seemed like a beautiful summer day was about to begin.

All warmed up in Aemond’s embrace, you realized he never let go of you throughout the night. Now facing away from him, your legs were tangled, his arm laid limply around your waist and his face rested in your neck. His breath fanned your shoulder soothingly.

You felt at peace, a smile curling your lips. But despite his comforting heat appeasing you, your mind could only focus on one thing: his manhood.

Long, hard… and keenly digging in your backside.

You wiggled a bit. He only grunted and you felt his hand coming up to hold one of your breasts. Arching into him instinctually, you pressed yourself against him even more. You could not help yourself, you began to rock your hips slightly.

Sleep could never be found again, not while you were so intimately entwined.

“Stop doing that,” huffed a husky voice behind you. “Doing what?” you probed, your hand now gently rubbing his hip though his undershirt.

He let go of your breast and went for your neck instead, squeezing it lightly with his slender fingers.

You were definitely awake now. Awake and burning. 

“I’m trying to stay proper, but you make it really hard,” he said gruffly.

“That I know” you answered with a chuckle, ignoring his warning and still rocking your backside against his stiff cock. “What a poor choice of words.”

The hand gripping at your throat went to your hip instead to stop your sweet torture.

But with your skin so soft, your scent so enticing and your nearly naked body obviously craving his touch, he started grinding into you too. 

“Yes, very proper of you.” you taunted him. 

You felt every inch of his through your linen shift. He seems big, you thought. The prospect of finally having him left you in such a state. You desired him so ardently you clenched your thighs together to prevent your slick from dripping down your leg. He nuzzled your neck, bit it too, making a mewling mess out of you.

It took all your will to stop him. As much as you were enjoying this, you felt like things were not settled yet. You sat in the bed and gazed upon him, a questioning look lingering on his face. 

“Let me say it again, so you will believe me this time. You feel like you have to spare me somehow, but I won’t even entertain the idea. I’m a strong lady, am I not?”

He looked at you attentively.

“You are the only man I have ever desired. I want you. ” It took a moment, but from his lips came your salvation.

“I was always yours,” he confessed, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers.

You felt it through your bones. His intense gaze went to your mouth, fixed on the plump of your lips. His hand reached for your face and cupped it gently, his thumb brushing your cheek lovingly.

He knew you would not accept any more arguments from him. The fact that you wanted him in spite of everything was baffling, but he lacked the strength to fight it anymore. He surrendered himself to you, for he was undeniably yours and you were inexplicably his.

“Then claim me.” you pleaded, yearning for his touch.

“I’ll make my demand to the King the minute we get back. I’ll speak to your father as well. The Tyrell boy can go fuck himself.” he said, brushing away your hair from your face. “You will be mine. You have my word.”

You were overcome with relief. King’s Landing was your home. It was where you read books, trained with the sword and where your prince was. And now, Aemond Targaryen wanted you to wife. Gods be good, it was everything you had ever wanted… but…

“The gods know I waited a long time for this… but I wasn’t talking about that…” you confessed, looking at him seriously. Holding his gaze, you moved to straddle him..

“Y/n!” he yelped, astonished yet incredibly aroused by your audacity. His hands went straight to your hips to stabilize you. You felt his cock brushing against your folds and you almost lost it.

“I-I saw you once,” you confessed, looking down at him. “...with a maid… In the east tower.”

He froze at your statement, but that did not stop you. You grabbed the bottom of his undershirt.

“I heard you scream my name.” you said, pulling on the fabric to tease him. He clenched his jaw. 

His hands fisted your white shift as well. He looked at you with fire in his eye, and not one you can easily extinguish. His composure hung by a thread. Lips parted, he looked at you like you were a goddess. You almost had him. He throbbed against your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

You bent down and your hardened nipples brushed against his chest though your linen shifts. Your mouth ghosting his, you inched up every time he tried to close the gap. You went to kiss the underside of his jaw instead. He growled, snaking his scorching hot hands on your back, under your shift.

“Don’t you want to know what I feel like?” you said in his ear, gnawing at his lobe. “Hear me scream your name.”

He exhaled loudly. You were most impressed at how good you were at making him unravel. He always loved your feistiness and how strong you were (with no trace of irony). You gave him back the same fiery energy. It was irritating and entrancing in equal measure.

And if you needed to be crass to finally get what you wanted, then so be it.

“I touch myself every night thinking only of you,” you hushed without any shame, tormenting him with a sudden rolling of your hips. “I want to know what you feel like too.”

He cursed under his breath. You could feel his walls crumbling around him. You pressed your forehead against his, keeping your lips awfully close to his. And now, the coup de grace…

“Kiss me… see what I do in return, this time.”

And you had him.

He sank into your touch, grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss. He devoured you, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. You hummed into it, feeling the heat flood your whole body. His lips were insistent, desperate to taste you as much as he craved your touch.

You felt his hunger, his despair and his desire all at once. You gave him unreservedly what he denied himself for so long. And he could not get enough of you.

You were his. His to take. His to touch. His to love. And he was yours. Yours to keep. Yours to feel. Yours to cherish.

You attempted to sit back up to rid yourself of your shift but he stopped you.

“Hmm, no. You’ve done enough now.” He muttered.

Without warning, he shifted you– manhandled you, more like– so you were under him. Kneeling between your spreaded legs, he took off his undershirt while you watched eagerly. You bit your lip as you admired his delicate ivory skin, his large shoulders, his toned chest, the V shape of his hip bones…He was divine. His manhood was also revealed to you and your doubts were confirmed. He was well-endowed indeed. Precum leaked from the tip of his long cock and ran down your thigh already. For the first time, nervousness got to you but you did not let it show.

Then he grabbed your shift and proceeded to rip it in half with his bare hands. “Seven hells, was that really necessary?” you asked, knowing full well you woke the dragon.

“I believe so, yes. You’ve been insufferable, my lady.” he reproached you, throwing what was left of the garments across the room. He looked down and took in the view of your naked body laying under him without touching you. 

“Insufferable, really?” you smirked, extending your fingers to touch his abdomen but he slapped your hand.

He came down and crushed you under his weight. He kissed your neck, licked it, bit it, sucked at it, anything to leave behind bruises you could hardly hide with your low-cut dresses now. You felt your own wetness leaking down to your backside.

He made known what roused his ire.

“Insufferable, yes,” he said in a low voice, pulling your hair to expose your neck even more. “Missing the morning sparring practice, for instance. Your absence was so distracting, Aegon almost skewered me.”

You chuckled, poking a finger in his side. He slapped your hand again.

Oh he’s actually angry, you thought.

“Dressing inappropriately in the library so I can’t read a damn word of my book,” his tongue flicked your erect nipple while his hand caressed your other breast. “Every time, I went back to my chambers with damp trousers, a hard cock and only my hand to see to it.”

Never had you heard him speak so vulgarly. He grinded into you to show how hard he was for you, brushing against your clit with every thrust. His breath fanned over you and goosebumps popped all over your chest.

“And just now? Coaxing your prince into marriage? Grinding all over him while he tries to stay proper? Very unladylike, but then again… you don’t want to be treated like a lady, don't you?”

His teeth grazed against the column of your neck and he came up to bite your bottom lip.

“I have always liked your insolence, y/n, but I think you are in serious need of discipline.”

“You are no better,” you said, smirking in his kiss, your hips meeting his movements, your bare cunt brushing against his hard cock. “You let my hands roam all over you when we fly on Vhagar. I always end up in your arms when we train with daggers. You glance at my bosom every chance you get, and not so subtly might I add. Don’t you dare claim the moral high ground, my princ— ”

You could not finish your sentence, for his lips captured yours again. He kissed you with an angry passion you did not know he had inside of him. Gone was the calm and quiet prince you knew him to be. You were his, now. And he intended to take everything you would gladly give him.

He reached down and slid a hand between your bodies. You grabbed onto the edge of the bed, gripping it firmly when you felt his thumb parting your wet folds. You moaned into his mouth when he found your clit. He broke the kiss and clicked his tongue.

“Still wet from the storm or is it all because of me?” he inquired, his lips curling in a wicked smile as he made circles around your clit.

“Oh just fuck me, will you.” you cried back, losing your mind under his ministrations.

“Such strong language, I don’t recognize you,” he teased again, loving the way he made you lose your composure with only one finger. “But I need to prepare you for me.”

He pressed his lips to yours, his thumb showing no mercy and your legs quivering. You felt that coil in your stomach. That itch that needed to be scratched so badly. He wanted to take his time. Honorable, but…

“…I-I lost my maidenhead years ago,” you admitted.

He stopped his assault on your lips and your mound all at once to look at you incredulously.

“No, it’s not like that. When Vhagar landed roughly in the rocky valley near Riverrun. These things happen. It’s why I insisted on bathing in the springs, I wanted to get the blood stains off my dress.”

He recalled the both of you bathing fully clothed in a very cold spring somewhere in the Riverlands.

“Still, I want to make sure that you... Enjoy. Every. Second. Of. It.” He said, pushing a finger past your folds, going in and out with each word he said.

You tried to kiss him again but he denied you. You had teased him so much that he wanted nothing more than to punish you with the same torturous treatment. He took pleasure in watching you go insane under him. Just as you drove him mad with desire. 

“I like the desperation on you” he said, picking up the pace.

His hands. His damn hands were on and in you. He added a second finger and curled them inside you, the heel of his hand pressing on your clit. You teetered on the brink of madness. He was relentless.

Your thighs started to shake as the pressure built in you. He knew you could take more so he slipped a third finger through your cunt and pumped into you in a steady rhythm. You whined as he tore your walls apart with fingers much larger than yours. You were getting close to your release under his expert hands, for not having control rendered things much more intense.

But as you were close, so close, he pulled out his fingers, your needy cunt clenching around nothing, desperation clear on your face.

“No, no!” you scowled.

He got off the bed and, for a second, you thought he was going to leave you like that. You were no dragon by any means, but you sure felt the rage of one.

“Patience”

He kneeled on the creaky wooden floor and pulled you to the edge of the bed in one swift tug. You watched him hook your legs on his shoulders and lock his arms around your hips. You blushed slightly at the sight of his face so close to your cunt, feeling so exposed as you could not get out of his embrace.

“I wanted to feast on you for years.”

And he carried on his exquisite torment. You threw your head back, lips parted in an O shape as Aemond’s mouth ravaged you eagerly. His nose teased your bundle of nerves while his tongue entered you. Heavy breaths escaped your mouth as you weaved your fingers into his silver hair and pulled his face in closer, not wanting him to stop.

He moaned into your soaked warmth and the vibrations made you arch your back instantly. Pleasure came back to you at great speed, back to where he left off. His tongue went to your clit while he fucked you with his fingers again. You fisted the sheets and writhed violently as you felt yourself going over the edge. Immeasurable pleasure washed over you as you reached your peak, screaming his name for all the inn to hear.

He held you down tightly as your legs shook uncontrollably on either side of his head. Unable to move, you had no choice but to take it. Waves of pleasure hit you one after the other, his fingers still moving in you, allowing you to ride your high till the end. He licked your juices for his own pleasure until you whined and tried to squirm away. 

He looked so proud of himself. He loved this power he had over you, to make goosebumps appear all over your skin while ravishing you, to have you jerking your hips as you unraveled on his fingers.

“Fuck. You are… so good.” you told him between pants, heat rising in your cheeks at the mere thought of what he could make you feel with is cock.

He proceeded to leave kisses everywhere on your inner thighs.

“Aemond, I beg you.” you said, pulling on his shoulder. You knew he enjoyed himself immensely, but you were desperate for him to take you.

“Begging? You?” He gasped, not recognizing his Strong Lady, always in control, now wanton and desperate as he laid on top of you again.

Your hand slithered between your bodies and you wrapped your fingers around his weeping cock. You had no idea what you were doing but it had its effect on him. He growled, astounded by your sudden touch. He looked fired up and ready to fuck you through the mattress and the floor.

He grabbed your wrist, indicating you to let go of his manhood. You grabbed his arse instead. He dragged the head of his cock between your folds to spread your slick along his length.

“There is no going back if I take you.” He said, your clit pulsing every time he brushed against your cunt. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your heels dug in his backside while your hands held onto his broad shoulders. His long hair fell all over you in a whirlwind of amber and sandalwood. “You will be mine, foreve—”

“I said claim me ”

And he did.

He sheathed himself slowly, gritting his teeth as he sank down, holding himself back from slamming into you all at once. Your eyes widened as he stretched your walls to a point you did not know was possible. You looked down to see he was only halfway in you. He cupped your chin with his rough hand, forcing you to look upon his face instead.

He watched you intently as you took all of him. He slid himself in your cunt inch by inch until he was deeply inside you. Pressing his lips to yours, he muffled your cries.

“I know, I’m sorry. Tell me if it’s too much.”

He stopped moving to let you adjust to his sheer size and he deeply sighed against your cheek. Even with your fingers, you had never reached so deep within you. It did not hurt as much as you thought it would but you felt overwhelmed at the sensation nonetheless. 

He cursed under his breath.

“You’re so tight. You clench too hard, I won’t last”, he confessed as you panted in his ear. You felt him pulling back but you locked him in place with your legs and arms.

He gently rubbed your thigh with one hand. He kissed you passionately like the starved man he was, and you eventually relaxed. The pain faded and anticipation took place. You know what must have been minutes felt like hours for him by now.

“Move, I’m fine”

He went slow at first. He searched for your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours. He was so patient with you. After a few thrusts, you started to rock your hips to meet his pace, the familiar feeling of pleasure getting back to your core once more.

“You are so big” was the only thing you could say as your whole mind could not concentrate on anything else.

“But you are taking me so well, my love.”

My love. My love. My love.

He was everywhere all at once. His praise in your ears, his hands on you, his scent all around you, his hair falling on you, his cock in you. Everything was him and you loved every second of it.

When he heard you panting in his ear, he picked up the pace. You whined loudly and he almost lost control of himself. He groaned against your chest, biting one of your nipples for purchase.

You felt yourself quickening already as he rubbed against that one spot that made the fire inside you burn more brightly each time.

You felt self-conscious about the ungodly sounds you were making and bit your lip to muffle your screams. He hit you with one hard thrust in retaliation, hitting so deep you cried out and went numb for a second.

“Don’t you go quiet on me, you said I’d hear you scream my name.” 

Gods, what have I done?, you thought. You never imagined him saying these kinds of things to you. He was right. You had been insufferable. You teased a dragon and now, you were paying the price. He liked having control over you for once, holding you down as he fucked you senseless. He claimed your body relentlessly with strong strokes that had your heart racing, his balls hitting your cunt hard each time.

And you loved it.

Your core was tightening with each of his powerful thrust. You were close. So close…when he suddenly left your embrace.

“Don’t you dare stop again!” you yelled at him, your arms desperately reaching for him.

But he only sat on his heels, grabbed one of your legs and hoisted it high against his chest. He wrapped his arm around your ankle and hammered his cock into you, hitting an even deeper angle.

“Fuck,” you wailed, eye widening and tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. You clawed at his hip, overwhelmed by the searing heat growing in you while he filled you to the hilt. 

He reached so deep within you, you thought he was in your stomach. It knocked the air right out of your lungs, even. You moaned his name incessantly, the only thing your fuzzy brain seemed to remember this very moment. A veil of sweat appeared on his skin, he was glowing in the morning light now flooding the room.

“You're mine.” he said possessively, his fingers just shy of bruising your skin as they dug in your thigh.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Say you are mine, y/n”.

Head thrown back, eyes closed, you barely registered what he asked of you. His hand went to your lower stomach and he pressed down, making you squirm and cry out.

“I’m yours. I’m yours. I’m yours.” you repeated over and over, trashing under him, overcomed by pleasure.

He worried he was too rough with you but when he heard a pleading “Harder!” escaping from your lips, he forfeited the last thread of sanity he was barely holding onto already.

You held on for dear life while he lost himself completely and slammed into you at a wild pace. He pulled out almost entirely before sliding back in again. His cock reached your cervix. Every. Single. Time.

He growled loudly as your nails left marks on his hip. His breath was erratic, he was close as well. You clenched around him and he cursed loudly.

“Look at me. I want to see your face as I make you come.”

“Come closer.” you managed to say between pants.

He let go of your leg and was over you again, your nipples brushing against his chest. One of his arms was on the side of your head, the other finding your clit to draw circles around it again. Your nails scratched his back, you pulled on his long silvery hair and rocked your hips to meet his unrelenting pace.

“Co-come for me, my love.” he stammered.

And you felt it deep inside you, from your womb to the base of your spine all the way through your whole back, legs, arms and head. Pleasure spreading like dragon fire within you, you reached your peak and it was not like anything you had felt before. Jaw hanging open in pure ecstasy, you could not even draw a breath. Your eyes rolled, your back arched and your whole body shaked.

“Aemond!” you screamed, tears down your cheeks as your orgasm did not stop. His dark eye watched you as you fell apart, praising him.

As you promised him, he heard you scream his name.

He continued with his merciless pace, letting you ride your high. Clutching his shoulders, you pressed your face to his chest and groaned against him.

You barely had any energy left to keep your legs wrapped around his waist. Your whole body went numb and your mind almost blanked.

“I’m close” he said, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release. “Do you want me to—”

“I said claim me,” you reminded him, completely overstimulated but feeling pleasure creeping upon you again.

He let out the most tantalizing growl you had ever heard him make. He buried his face in your neck and he came roaring your name. His thrusts got sloppy but he did not stop. He breathed the faintest of “I love you” as you felt his muscles spasming and his cock throbbing.

He filled you with his seed with a few erratic thrust. Combined with the sudden heat deep within you, it was enough to make you see stars one more time.

Heavily panting in your ear, Aemond’s movements slowly came to a halt. He left kisses on your forehead… your cheek… your lips…

“You were perfect,” he murmured.

“So were you, my love.”

You stayed like that for a while. Him still buried in you, crushing you under his weight, and you loving the fullness, mindlessly stroking his hair and back.

You could hear birds outside, the wind in the trees as well. You embraced the peacefulness of it all. Now that was a silence you did not mind.

You slowly caught your breath, observing the pearly sweat on Aemond’s porcelain skin. You felt both his cum and your slick leaking down your cunt. What a mess you made, you could feel how damp that mattress was.

You noticed a low rumble coming from downstairs, a sign that the village was waking up and you needed to return to the Red Keep. Still, you both indulged a little more, not ready for this moment to end.

He left small kisses on your shoulder, listening to your quiet groans. He drew shapes on your arms with his fingers and observed the goosebumps erupting. He frowned when he noticed little scars scattered everywhere from years of sword training with him. You too had scars. A lot of them even. He never knew. You never said.

“Are you ok?” he asked, raising his head to look you in the eyes.

His sapphire eye caught the morning sun flooding the room and made hundreds of small specks of blue light dance all around you. The sight of him like this, all of him, was spellbinding. You answered him with a blissful smile. 

“I’m fine, my prince. ” “Stop it with the formal titles.” “It wouldn’t be proper, or so I’ve been told.” You tugged at a strand of his hair.

“Propriety has always been lost on you, I’m afraid.”

He laced his fingers to yours again and brought it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“So… No regrets?” He asked, not sure if he would like your answer.

“Only that you robbed me of this pleasure for years.” You said playfully, kissing the bottom of his scar. “You?”

He chuckled.

“I didn’t expect you to swear like a bravosi sealord.” he said, leaving a lazy kiss on your lips.

“Only because of how aggravating you were.” you quip. 

He surprised you with a thrust to shut you up and, maybe, tempt you into a second round.

The bed itself was also surprised as its legs gave out and you both fell with the mattress on the creaking wooden floor in a loud bang and small clouds of dust engulfing the room.

“Ooh the innkeeper is going to kill you,” you giggled.

“He liked you, maybe you should tell him about it.”

Back in King's Landing...

Your father and Queen Alicent were mortified at the sight of you walking through the doors of the Red Keep nearly a day after you were supposed to come back. Clothes still wet, messy hair and a strong smell of dragon to top it all off. They had spent the night looking for you everywhere.

Queen Alicent seemed oblivious of what transpired during your little adventure in the Stormlands, but your father was no fool. He knew you. He saw you holding hands before you went through the Mud Gate from the beach. The look you exchanged before parting all but confirmed his suspicions. Not to mention your bare arms sticking out from underneath your hood indicated that you were missing a white shift under your dress.

Your prince asked the King, the Queen and your father for an audience immediately. He insisted your betrothal to him was not a request, for he would not take no for an answer.

Your father could not refuse a proposition from a Prince of the crown. Especially when he knew how dear he was to you… and whatever you were up to in the Stormlands.

You married before the moon turned.

At long last… you claimed his nights. 

NEXT: Part 2 (Indulging) or see my masterlist.

Thank you for reading!

Leave comments if you wish, I’d love to have feedback. English is my second language. 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 410: Kacchan Fights a Baby

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was born and then he grew up and murdered the Demon Lord.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan fights a baby. Tomura and Deku finally remember that they were supposed to have been fighting too this entire time, and get on with that once again. Tomura is all, “[literally just reaches out and grabs Deku’s face because Deku’s main character powers suddenly abandoned him in a fit of confusion].” Deku is all, “[chops off Tomura’s fingers which is somehow not even in the top twenty of violent things that have happened in this series in just the last five chapters].” Tomura is all “joke’s on you I still got your quirk :D” and fuck me he actually stole Danger Sense, what the fuck.

logically I knew AFO still had to be alive somehow because he’s too big of a villain to go out that easily without a proper sendoff. but deep in my heart, I’m still secretly disappointed

it just isn’t fair, lol. this guy has died more times than Rasputin and he’s still out here scheming his schemey schemes. when oh when will it end

sir you did not just say you had yet ANOTHER unused trump card up your sleeve??

(ETA: the translation isn’t fully clear here, but I think the trump card he’s referring to is the whole “I’ll just go back inside him and join the part of me that was already in there and we’ll take over Tomura’s body again together” plan that he was trying to pull off. I think. if not though, that’s certainly something worth speculating about.)

well as always the psychology in this series is unironically fascinating! he just wants acknowledgement at the end of the day, huh. just wants some love and attention. too bad he was born in a rat-infested hellscape and learned all the wrong lessons and turned into a crazed omnipotent murderlad

also he really did turn back into a baby sdfsdlkjfl oh no. I need to see Katsuki’s reaction to this immediately

oh my lord

(●__●)

lmao this is so incredibly fucked up

ngl though, this is karma at its finest. he tortured and killed so many people trying to earn everyone’s fear and awe and reverence, only to literally blip out of existence at the end with absolutely nothing to show for it

everyone please enjoy this series of panels of a deeply vexed Bakugou Katsuki picking a fight with this slowly melting evil baby

“you think I care that you’re a baby now. you think I won’t fight a fuckin’ baby. let’s do this you little punk”

also I’m sorry but it’s absolutely ridiculous that the gigantic chest wound Tomura inflicted on him got sewed up so neatly lol. AFO’s not the only one who stubbornly refuses to die no matter what

...

just once, it would be nice if Horikoshi didn’t immediately shred my plot nitpicks to pieces mere seconds after I write them

LMAO

BABY AFO DON’T CARE. BABY AFO WILL THROW HANDS WITH ANYONE ＼(｀0´)／

KACCHAN MY BELOVED FAVE OF ALL TIME, ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO LOSE TO A LITERAL FUCKING INFANT

WHAT HAPPENED TO “PERFECT VICTORY” LMAO. MOVING THE GOALPOSTS EVEN AS HIS CONSCIOUSNESS FADES. “EH, CLOSE ENOUGH”

-- OH FOR THE LOVE OF --

me: wow it sure is uncharacteristic of Katsuki to just pass out before he properly wraps up this battle

Horikoshi: oh yeah good point, sure would be a shame if someone... IMMEDIATELY ADDRESSED THAT CONCERN ON THE VERY NEXT PAGE

me: ఠ_ఠ

ldskjflaksdjfkds

fdsfsdkf. “SORRY ABOUT THAT, FOR A MOMENT THERE I ALMOST FORGOT TO BEND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO MY WILL”

holy fucking shit. his body was all “um, just a quick reminder that you’re HORRIBLY WOUNDED and have lost like ten gallons of blood and all of your cells are about to call an emergency meeting to shut this thing down before you get us all killed.” and he was all “WHAT WAS THAT?!” and his body was all “oh my GOD, FUCK, OKAY just forget we said anything”

and meanwhile Baby AFO is just lying there all “(◉⌓◉)”

this six-month-old child is truly and sincerely still trying to kill Kacchan while screeching death threats in high-pitched baby talk

this actually would have killed him too, if he’d succeeded in passing out. all that just to be punk’d by a damn baby

you are actually shitting me right now

at this point I’m genuinely not sure which of them has the more powerful angry toddler energy

oh no ffuffkdsfk

meeeeelting. meeeeeeltiiiiiing!!! oh what a world what a world

jesus Horikoshi I am genuinely speechless

... welp

WAIT NO WAY, REALLY?!?!

?!?!?! WAS IT ACTUALLY THAT SIMPLE THIS WHOLE TIME

-- lkjf

three times. three times in the same fucking chapter. I give up. apparently I’ll literally believe anything this man says. does it feel good, Horikoshi. preying on your readers’ hopeful naivete

yeefuckinghaw lmao

GOOD JOB KACCHAN YOU DEFEATED THE EVIL BABY

awwwww

I actually had a theory about this! well more of a wishlist item, really. I can’t remember if I’ve actually posted about it yet or not. but it’s like. you know how Deku and Kacchan are always being really dramatic about holding hands? wanting to hold hands; not wanting to hold hands; being afraid to hold hands; holding hands via proxy, etc. etc.?

and you know how both Endeavor and All Might have each done their own version of the victory pose that Kacchan is referring to here? with each one using a different hand?

so you see, I was thinking that it might be nice. might be a little poetic and all that. if at the end of the fight, Deku and Kacchan did, in fact, hold hands. and then did the victory pose together. and it became like their iconic hero moment. them standing there together. having accomplished their goal and defeated TomurAFO through teamwork. realizing their shared childhood dream. and sharing that moment of triumph with each other and with the world, ushering in a new era of heroes

anyway yeah. I was thinking that might be a pretty good ending. but it looks like Kacchan maybe really is about to pass out here now, lol, so maybe not? anyways time to finally scroll down

-- okay I literally said awww again out loud

what a fucking nerd. I have never felt more fondness for a character in my life

every damn person watching this on the news better have leaped to their feet and started applauding, goddammit. those motherfuckers better be CHANTING HIS FUCKING NAME. all those nagging reporters better be bombarding his phone with calls. those fuckers who deleted his footage from the Shouto interview better be shamelessly leaving him dozens of voicemails acting like none of that ever happened and presumptuously asking when he can free some time in his schedule to visit their studio again. all the heroes who haven’t hugged him yet better be lining the fuck up. that one guy from the post-kidnapping press conference in chapter 86 better be writing a fifty page letter of apology!!

oh hey it’s a random pre-battle flashback mysteriously taking place in Troy “a few days before the battle” even though I thought they only moved into that place the night before the fight

I love how Katsuki immediately narrows his eyes (I assume. we can’t see for sure but that’s the vibe I get) at Jeanist and has to resist the urge to call the police on him for that pun

so Hadou’s wondering what Jeanist is talking about because they already evacuated the civilians, so what else are they trying to protect. and Edgeshot is all, “well obviously we’ve gotta protect everyone’s future,” which is a nice... rearshadowing?? for him saving Katsuki’s life later on lol

and now Mirko is all “get to the fucking point already.” which, same

so Jeanist says that Tomura is an even bigger problem than AFO, because at least AFO doesn’t want to murder everyone on the entire planet. and he concludes with “he’ll probably try to touch the ground and use his quirk.” which is a conclusion that I have to say wasn’t really worth two pages of flashback buildup for, considering that we all figured that out years ago

I’m guessing this is all just some sort of awkward transition back to Deku’s fight now lol

and now we’re getting two pages of exposition on how long it would theoretically take Tomura’s Decay to spread throughout the city, and then the entire country, yikes

damn. talk about stakes

and now finally back to Deku!!

shoutout to everyone who correctly predicted that Deku was once again talking out of his ass when it came to being out of Gearshifts. we all knew. unlimited supply

wow Tomura way to throw AFO under the bus

the way I recall it, AFO wasn’t the one who failed to kill him back then lol. but go ahead and talk your shit king

DEKU WHAT ARE YOU DOING

holy shit?!?!

like my first thought was “well last time he did this he just tried to steal OFA rather than Decay him, so he’ll probably try that again and it’ll be fine.” only to remember that the AFO inside Tomura is currently permanently(?) out to lunch, and Tomura himself doesn’t give two figs about stealing OFA. so, uhhhh >_>

(ETA: nevermind.)

but then this happened

Deku what the actual fuck

OH MY GOD??!?!

HOLY SHIT

okay. okay, fuck. lemme gather up my thoughts, and then we’ll wrap this up

they’ll never admit it, but you know the other OFA Vestiges secretly resented Shino a tiny bit for being the only one of them to not be gruesomely murdered. bet they all feel guilty for thinking that now

Shino and Banjou also seemed to have this cute little pseudo-rivalry thing going on, so I really feel bad for Banjou now. :/ he looks so horrified in that bottom right panel

gotta admit, I did not see this coming in the slightest. OFA has been this immutable “I do what I want!” quirk for so long that I never thought Tomura or AFO would actually succeed in stealing it, even partially. that shook me to my core

BUT, it’s also really exciting to me because it’s going to make this battle much more interesting if Deku can’t use his get out of jail free card. shit just got way more real and I’m here for it

lastly, so! let me tell you guys my prediction. I still can’t see Tomura being the final villain lol. I just can’t. it feels too anticlimactic. if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, and I’ve certainly botched MANY predictions in the past, but I have not yet learned my lesson from any of it and I will not apologize lol

so here’s what I think. Deku and Tomura battle it out for the next chapter or two, and Tomura snatches up more of Deku’s quirks one by one. we see all of the Vestiges disappearing and the mood gets more and more desperate. eventually we’re down to just Kudou and Yoichi. Deku is panicking, but for some reason Kudou seems even MORE panicked

Kudou/Gearshift eventually gets stolen too, and it looks like this might finally be it for Deku (I have no idea how he’d stop Tomura from Decaying the ground once Blackwhip gets stolen, btw, but maybe Katsuki or someone else interferes in desperation towards the end). but just when it looks like Tomura is finally going to take the last piece of OFA, Deku’s vibes suddenly do a 180, stopping Tomura in his tracks

cut to the OFA Moon Gorgeous Meditation Realm, where Deku and Yoichi are staring at the door -- yes, that door -- in shock. because it’s finally been opened (now that the other Vestiges are no longer there to keep it at bay). and just like that, enter AFO, for the THIRD FUCKING TIME :D :D

tl;dr, HERE’S HOW HORCRUX!DEKU CAN STILL HAPPEN!!! wait where are you all going. wait come back

anyway so wow that was a really bizarre chapter that I truly thoroughly enjoyed, which should probably be a bit concerning. on to the next two week break! (for anyone who’s not aware, Shounen Jump will be on break next week, so yeah.) I’m on chapter 391 now. so close but still so far. the end of the year has gone by too damn fast tbh

[jhoneybees]

Hey there! I absolutely adore your work and I was wondering if you could write a fluff piece with 70s E? I’m thinking, 1975/76-ish. The reader is wayyy younger than him (like, early twenties), and he’s sort of insecure about being “too old” for her? Something real cute and fluffy? Thank youuu! ☺️

Ahh!! My first ever request!! Thank you for requesting! I love this idea so much, made my heart clench :(

I really hope you like it!

____________________

Too Old

Elvis and you have been dating for a couple of years now and your relationship is quite publicly open, especially the obvious 20 year age gap but that doesn't stop you two from loving each other. You adore Elvis in every way and same goes for him, you two couldn't have asked for another lover in the whole world, you both love eachother so much.

The newspapers often ramble on about the age gap you two have and he knows he should just ignore it but Elvis can't help it to think maybe he's too old for you, thinking he can't catch up with you and your young antics. The thought of dating a 40 year old man while you're in your early twenties does seem a little much but the love you have for your boyfriend is all that fills your mind. Having to slow down for Elvis so he could catch up is something you really don't mind doing, you would be sad if he misses out on anything.

You two are usually quite open with your thoughts and feelings but Elvis worrying about his age is something he doesn't want you to know, the thought of him being an old man as he watches you from the couch, dancing with your friends at a party or squeezing your thigh gently as you sit on his lap whilst chatting with the others about things that he doesn't understand in this new generation made him feel so insecure.

One night after a party, Elvis stumbles into the TV room, sitting himself down on the couch and grabbing the remote to flick through the channels on his TVs as you get yourself ready for bed upstairs in the bedroom. That stupid thought of his age is really getting to him, he thinks of you possibly leaving him to go find someone more suitable for your young age is eating him alive. His thoughts get interrupted by you calling his name, he calls for you in a tired tone “In the TV room” Your walking turns into a skip making your way to him, seeing Elvis watching a random dramatic soapy on one of the TVs, you quietly sit beside him. His arm wrapping around you so you could rest against his chest, you let out a content sigh as your hand slips through the low V cut shirt Elvis has on to feel his soft chest hair. The silent moment made you smile, the cosy ambience of being in Graceland watching TV with Elvis was something you have always dreamt of doing as a teenager but a prickly feeling made you come back from your daydreaming, a feeling that something was wrong with Elvis. He has been quiet this past week but you just thought he was just tired which he usually is but you realised maybe there's something else.

Looking up to see Elvis' face blank with a hint of sadness as his blue eyes stare at the television. You carefully sit up and ask him “Feelin' alright?” Earning a quiet hum in return. You frown slightly “Are you sure Elvis?” Elvis' eyes that were glued to the TV looks down at your hand that sits on his thigh, he looks up at you noticing you worryingly watching him. Giving you a soft smile, he nods “I'm alright honey, don't worry about me” with a slow nod you reply with a “Ok” kissing his cheek softly before returning to the position you were in before.

After a few minutes of reappearing silence you begin talking about something that you and your friends have been babbling on about and Elvis just replies with quiet hums and uhuh’s. He doesn't understand what you're talking about so he hesitantly interrupts “I-i'm sorry honey but could ya explain that?” You nod as you obediently sit up making Elvis' hand slide from your hip to your knee. “It's about the Beatles! Lucy was tellin' me about how she went to one of their concerts and told me how much she loved it” Elvis nods, a thought running in his head that maybe he's losing his musical touch and everyone is losing interest in him now.

You continue to babble on, not noticing Elvis' eyes drifting away from you and giving his troubling thoughts attention. Your talking comes to a halt as you watch Elvis look down at the carpet, your eyebrows furrow “Elvis darling…” turning his head to look at you with your fingers on his chin, he smiles weakly “ M’sorry y/n got carried away” he chuckles unconvincingly “what's on your mind?” You ask. Elvis gulps and looks down from your eyes before he gently moves your hand away from his chin, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. He sighs “I'm too old for you…” your eyebrows furrow even more, shaking your head as you bring your other hand to cup his cheek “Elvis sweetie..” he can't bear to look you in the eye “You always wait for me to catch up on ya…on this young generation” you knew Elvis gets insecure about himself a lot and it really breaks your heart, you want him to see what you see of him in your eyes. A loving man that gives you all his love that you never asked for. “Honey, I don't mind waiting on you… it means the world to me for you to join in on the fun” you smile nervously, he shakes his head “better to just leave me and go find someone younger” you shake your head frantically and a sad “No..” leaves your mouth. Cupping both of his cheeks forcing him to look you in the eye “How could I ever leave you? You're my baby, my honey, my love” He gulps again as he listens “We may have a big age gap but I don't care about that Elvis, I really don't…all I care about is loving you, taking care of you, waiting on you. I'd do anything..” your voice begins to crack, the nasty thoughts that were plaguing his mind disappear as he hears your devotion for him. “Doesn't matter how old you may be I will always love you no matter what” Elvis smiles softly “You mean it?” You nod in return “I swear on my own grave” he looks at you in awe “I love you so damn much..” he says just above a whisper “I love you too, daddy” making him genuinely laugh.

____________________

[the-anime-enthusiast]

pls shoto / hawks type of women

MHA CHARACTERS TYPE IN WOMEN

#2 Keigo Takami - Hawks

KEIGO TAKAMI - PHYSICAL

He likes his women a lil shorter 😌🫶 Like 5'2 - 5-6 buuutt will GLADLY take on a model height baddie ANY DAY OF THE WEEK "what's the point of wings if I can't use them to fly up and kiss you??" 🤧

AN ABSOLUTE ASS MAN he loves the legs, the butt, all of it and in between but besides be a total tweaker for a nice ass he has a special place in his heart for boobs 🫶 specifically b-c cups though 🌚 he doesn't know why but he likes a smaller size 😉

Siren eyes are his ULTIMATE WEAKNESS something about someone who looks so intense and like they're about to eat him alive bc hes so fucking annoying GETS BRO GOING 🤩 He can tease you all day any day but if you act like he's just another guy to you HE WILL CHASE YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE DAMN EARTH ‼️‼️

Sucker for dimples 😌 Loves to see some chubby cheeks with the cutest dimples 🫡 AND SMILE LINES OMFGGG 😍😍😍🙏🙏🙏 he doesn't even know what it is about them but it makes his heart SKIP A BEAT

He LUVS a sun kissed skin look 🌞 like a slightly tanned face with some redness left over from a sunburn, freckles starting to pop up everywhere HE LOVES IT 💥💥💥

Short and stout or tall and skinny he loves it all 🫡🫡🫡 Bro is NOT PICKY 😭 As long as ur face cute hell love you until hell freezes OVVVERRR BRO 🌚🌚🌚

KEIGO TAKAMI - MENTAL

Literally just someone he can vibe with 🙂‍↕️ If you match energy he will worship you like THE AIR HE BREATHES 😍 Just someone laid back and chill but also can have a fub time and a positive outlook on the future "pessimists are my worst enemy" was once scratched from an interview 🌚

While he loves an optimist and like minded folk realism is the most important thing he could ask for -- Someone who understands his job and the things he has to do 💯 (this stems a lot from the twice incident which i will touch on at the end of this)

Can we all admit he's fs got mommy issues ✋ he would die for a lady who will hold him in her arms at the end of the day and just let him exist in the peace and quiet of his home with her 🙂‍↔️

SMART WOMEN 😍 he loves someone smart, youre working to get ur PhD? SMASH‼️ A teacher ?? SMASH‼️ Literally any job or skill that requires emotional strength and a BIG BRAIN and he's weak in the knees 🤭

KEIGO TAKAMI - RANDOM

Blissfully unaware people who will lounge in bed all day reading a magazine then running up to him as he gets home from work peppering him will kisses is like a very specific want of his - 😭 bro just wants someone to love him fr ✊😔

Has a weird thing for teachers -💀 Anytime a girl is like "Oh yeah I never told you? I'm a Pre-K teacher!' his eye twitches and he feels like he's going insane 😶‍🌫️ (in the best way possible)

You're the only person he's ever told this or would let do this to him - but give him back scratches at the base of his wings AND HE EVAPORATES 🫠🫠

NERDS 💯💯💯 A secret fangirl???? He's never living it down. EVER. He'll bring you home limited edition, u released, ect ect merch for, not only him, but ALL THE TOP HEROES bc he gets first dibs from being so high in the charts 😌

Going of off nerds again, IF YOU CORRECT HIM ON SOMETHING (literally anything...it's concerning) HE GETS SOOO HOT AND BOTHERED he's never been able to figure out why but being out in his place by someone so intellectually advance does something to him 🧍‍♀️

THATS THE POST!! (but here's some end credits and comments rq 😉)

About the twice situation, although he recognizes what he did was wrong, he doesn't regret it, because it truly changed the tide and outcome of the war, and he needs someone who sees that and defends him whole heartedly ✋

ANYWAYS I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS REQUEST ‼️ I've never been a huge fan of hawks so it was SO much fun coming up with stuff and diving more into his character ‼️‼️ I hope y'all enjoy 😉

also...idk if y'all can tell... but I NEED HIM AND FUYUMI TO BECOME A THING PLEASE HORIKOSHI ID GIVE YOU MY LIFE (the head cannons have nothing to do with that shit it's all separate it just happens to line up VERY well) 😍

BYYEEEE THANKYOU ‼️

[veritas-scribblings]

constellation - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1,135

[in-universe: welcome, night, safe, more and then devour | takes place after ' devour'.]

Sometimes, Regulus goes to the roof.

Euphemia worries about him falling. Though well kept, the roof of the Potter home is slated and slightly slippery, but Regulus manoeuvres his way across it with ease. He likes to come up here at night, James has noticed. Sometimes, Regulus will lay on his back to watch the stars. Sometimes he will sit on the roof and read by wand light.

Sirius had done this quite often in the early days when he had first run away from Grimmauld Place. He would go to the roof and lay on his back and he would try to find himself in the stars. And sometimes, James knows, he would try to find Regulus as well. Because no matter how much he had denied it, Sirius always carried Regulus with him, and with that came the guilt of leaving him behind.

Like brother, like brother, James supposes.

One night in April, during the Easter break of his seventh year, James makes his way to the alcove on the second floor of his home and pries the window open to climb onto the roof and find Regulus. It’s a clear Spring night and Regulus will be star-gazing, as he is always visible in the night sky this time of year.

James climbs through the alcove window and onto the roof. He is making his way to the shed-dormer where he knows Regulus will be when he hears Regulus’s voice. That crisp, curtness that always makes James feel a little weak in his knees, that melts him from the inside out.

‘If you’re here to tell me that I can’t see him,’ Regulus is saying, ‘then you can fuck right off. James and I are between James and I and have nothing to do with you.’

James tries to duck down, but out on the open on the roof, there’s nothing to properly conceal him. Instead, he crouches awkwardly and hopes that Sirius and Regulus don’t notice him. And that he doesn’t fall to his death. It would be a humiliating way to die: trying to hide from his…boyfriend? love interest? previous paramour? The boy who has stolen and run away with his heart?

Sitting on the flat part of the roof next to Regulus, Sirius narrows his eyes. He’s a little uneasy about the height without the security of a broomstick, James knows, but still doing his best to hide it. ‘You sneaking around with my best friend has everything to do with me, you absolute little shit. So firstly, fuck you for snogging by best friend behind my back.’

Regulus turns to look at Sirius so quickly that James worries he’s going to roll off and plummet to his death. ‘Snogging? What makes you think that all we did was snog?’ Regulus says this so dangerously low that James knows he’s trying to goad Sirius into a reaction.

James can’t help but feel weak in a different sort of way; he hasn’t yet worked out if Sirius is mad with him. After everything had come out into the open—and after Sirius had threatened to skin him alive and hang his flayed flesh on the walls of Grimmauld Place—Sirius had barely said a word to him. The entire train ride home, Sirius had simply frozen him out.

Sirius turns away from Regulus, snorting. For a moment, he looks up at the stars hanging high above them. 

‘James is an absolute shit liar,’ Sirius eventually says. ‘He wouldn’t be able to hide it from me if he had violated my little brother’s honour.’

Still hovering some distance behind, pressing himself up against the chimney, James cringes, because it’s true. The memory of how true it is feels a little raw. Sirius had seen it on him those times when James and Regulus had had…moments. Moments where James had felt dizzier that he’d ever felt, more thrilled, more excited and they’d come so, so, so close.

‘We aren’t even two years apart. I’m not your little anything,’ Regulus retorts. He doesn’t look at Sirius, and James now knows Regulus well enough to be able to tell that Regulus is feeling uncomfortable with the whole conversation.

‘You’re my little brother, end of story, and as your sole adoring family member I will ritualistically flay and sacrifice anyone who tries to sully your good name.’ Sirius says this all with a solemnity that’s so profound it’s almost ridiculous. ’No one gets to touch your until I give my blessing and approval and, perhaps, until you're married and forty-years-old.'

James almost wobbles in alarm when Regulus lets out a loud, ‘ha!’ 

Sirius, however, does scramble up in shock. Even in the dark, James can tell he’s disturbed and a little bit pale. ‘Who the fuck has done what to you?’ he demands so loudly that James is almost surprised when it doesn’t wake all of their neighbours. ‘I’m serious, Reg! Which filthy, dirty bastard has laid their hands on you?!’

Regulus is laughing. James has to shut his eyes and crouch lower to try and quell the sick feeling in his stomach, because he knows which ‘filthy, dirty bastard’ has ‘laid their hands’ on Regulus. Regulus had told him that one time they’d come really close and James had admitted he’s never done ‘it’ before and Regulus had admitted that he very much has.

And James had felt that jealous, jealous beast grow in his chest. That same jealous beast that’s once more being roused.

‘Prongs!’ Sirius shouts, startling James out of his own private moment so suddenly that James scrambles on the spot and almost falls. ‘Prongs, you arsehole, who the hell has done what with my baby brother?!’ Sirius looks over his shoulder to where James is perched nervously, hoping to become one with the brick chimney. 

Regulus, now sitting up next to Sirius, doesn’t look in the least bit fazed by James’s presence. He smirks a little and tips his head up to glance once more at the night sky above them. 

At his star, which is gleaming in the south. At Sirius’s star, which is always so visibly clear. At the moon, which is full and huge and bright.

‘Yes, I know you’re there,’ Sirius rolls his eyes, ‘and for the record, you absolute dirty bastards, I approve. Not that you ever asked.’ He sniffs, feigning offence. Or, perhaps, entirely serious about it. James is too apprehensive to tell anymore. ‘James is a good egg. There’s no one else I’d trust with my little baby brother. I’m glad it’s you. You have my blessing.’ He narrows his eyes, dramatic about it as he’s Sirius. ‘However, if you don’t tell me what Regulus is “ha-ing” about, and if you don’t give me names, Prongsie, then I will liberate you of little prongs and ensure that my little baby brother forever remains my little baby brother.’

[anathemaspeaks]

what was i made for?

character(s): toji fushiguro synopsis: toji doesn't believe he deserves love - until you come along. word count: 0.6k warning(s): none, it's purely fluff a/n: tried something new lemme know how you feel about thisss

reblogs, follows, and likes are appreciated :)

i used to float, now i just fall down i used to know, but i'm not sure now what was i made for?

toji who thinks he is not worthy of love. he is not a man deserving enough to have someone to care for him, someone who chooses to stay with him simply because they want to, not because they gain something out of it. all he did was cause pain, anyways. he was better off alone.

what was i made for?

his path had been one of solitude for god knows how long. looked down upon by everyone, barely surviving physically and mentally - a man, no, a monster who gave up his own son. people like him don't get second chances.

nobody can love a monster. nobody even wants to be around one.

taking a drive, i was an ideal looked so alive, turns out i'm not real just something you paid for

toji who had no one left in this world, nothing to live for, nothing but a shell of the man he used to be - the man he could have been. he was useless. empty. a man without a purpose. someone else's puppet. he didn't have any power over his own life. he was pathetic.

what was i made for? cause i don't know how to feel but i wanna try

vacant, brutal words engraved onto his soul. he was a monster, and he always will be. that is just how his life will be - his destiny. he would just be alive, never quite living, silently wishing he could end it all.

i don't know how to feel but someday, i might

and then you - who crashes into his life in all your frustratingly captivating glory and finds a home in his heart. you thought toji fushiguro was no monster, he was just a man who had been hurt and misunderstood far too many times. a broken man. you saw right through his tough façade. you were the first person who showed him how it felt to be seen as something other than a fraud of a human.

when did it end? all the enjoyment i'm sad again, don't tell my boyfriend it's not what he's made for what was i made for?

falling in love with you was the easiest thing he ever had to do. you, with your kind eyes and gentle smile. you, with your warm words and and comforting presence. you, who never pitied him. quite the opposite, really. a man who had been through so much, and who still fought so hard every single day, how could you not be wonderstruck and completely infatuated by him?

you, the only person who made him feel safe.

cause i don't know how to feel but i wanna try

toji, who would rather die than ever see you cry. toji, who doesn't really know what love is, but gives you the whole world. toji, who isn't used to healthy communication, but for you, he tries. toji, who still has a lot to learn, but is perfect in your eyes. toji, who is only happy when he's with you. toji, who is always there for you. toji hadn't been sure of anything in his life until you.

i don't know how to feel but someday, i might

toji who gets his spark back. he knows who he is, and it's all because of you. toji who fixes his life, but can he even call it his when it's all for you? toji who doesn't even have to think twice about it when he asks you to marry him.

and you don't have to think twice about it when you say yes.

think i forgot how to be happy something i'm not, but something i can be

toji who would gladly spend the rest of his life with you. he was a man who had nothing, but with you in his arms, he has the whole world. a man considered to be stoic and unaffectionate, absolute putty in your hands. you would always have him wrapped around your finger.

and he would have it no other way.

something i wait for something i'm made for

toji, who finally gets the happy ever after he thought he didn't deserve.

this is all based on a true story btw, we're getting married soon 💋

[kapposuch]

Domestic!Bad Batch x reader (headcannons)

Warnings: Absolutely none! just utter fluff!

I love these kids, I've adored them since I laid eyes on them and god I want the best for these sweethearts. It's been a long time since I've done anything like this, so if you have constructive criticism for me, please lay it on me! I'd really appreciate it!

Here's the bad batch! hope you enjoy

Hunter

He's very much not used to a domestic setting, especially not one he's sharing with you

but god he wants to do right by you and make sure he doesn't mess things up

constantly cleaning up tiny messes he makes, even if it's not a mess. it's as if he doesn't want anyone to know he's even staying with you. it's not like that, he swears! just military habits

"What's with the state of the Marauder then?"

"You think Wrecker can keep things tidy for ten minutes?"

He's an early bird due to his military routine, so he's often up long before you. expect to be tucked in tight with a cup of caf or tea on its way to you when he hears you stir

but sometimes, he just likes to sit in the absolute bliss of freedom. even if it's for a short time before he has another mission with his brothers, he'll relish the contact and hold you close, cradling you like a babe.

moments like this make him feel alive. and it's all he ever wants.

on the rare occasion you wake up first, seeing him sprawled out on one side of the bed, barely covered by your sheets with unkempt hair and a missing bandana makes you melt. an absolute sight to behold, so you'll lay there and take it all in while you have the chance before those unflattering blacks are back on

no matter whats happening, where you are, or what you're doing around your apartment, he will make it his mission to be in your personal space. he wants to make sure nothing happens, and fears the loss if he steps away for just a moment

constant kisses. Hunter relishes in physical touch, and will always place a kiss on your temples, forehead, hands, cheeks, nose, lips, whatever he can reach the fastest. you'll never forget how devoted this man is to you.

even if he's wearing his whole gear and hasn't taken his head piece off yet, he'll delicately bump it to the top of your head if he's got a good enough angle.

he'll melt if you kiss his helmet. maybe he'd consider asking you to put on some lipstick and throw a big ole smooch onto the filter by his cheek so he can take your love with him to battle

"mark my helmet, would you mesh'la? I want to take you with me while I can"

oh no, your heart is missing, where in the galaxies could it have gone?

sweet angel

Wrecker

Where do I even begin?

it won't be the tidiest arrangement by far, but he will always do his best to pick up after himself, even if it's not very often.

arrange a day where you both tidy, with music in the background, and he'll be so gung-ho about helping you clean up! with the occasional dance number during, of course

he'll give you a spin and a dip, and a big ole smooch! very very smily man, god take care of his heart

words of affirmation turn this sweet giant into a puddle of mush, please compliment him

you'll pick up on a few mandoan terms, and will throw them around here and there while you're busy

"Hand me a towel would you, cyar'ika"

"can you grab me that mug from the top shelf, ner cyare?"

his face will light up, eyes well with tears, and he'll scoop you up into a bone-crushing hug, waddle to the couch, and sit with his face buried in your neck, simply repeating the phrases you say in his head. he'd do anything for you to continue getting these sweet words

he's a little bit of an idiot, so sometimes you have to reassure him if you make a joke that he doesn't quite get. you find it endearing, but he worries you think he's not that smart

you can cup his cheek, stare into his eyes, and praise his wonderful mind

movie nights with mantell mix are a staple for this man's date nights. you'll never escape his embrace while watching movies, but you don't mind. he keeps you warm and safe

sleeping arrangements are as such: you're a little spoon. deal with it. he finds it most comfortable, though some nights he'll roll over and will wake up feeling your forehead on his back, and arms wrapping as far across his body as possible. he finds it utterly adorable, and loves it just as much as sleeping with you on his chest

as long as you're by his side, so that when you wake, you can share kisses and make a cup of caf together for the day ahead

"Don't know what I did t' deserve ya... But I ain't lettin' go. Don't even think 'bout it, cyare."

Tech

clean. freak.

everything should be where it belongs after its used, and even you yourself have to get used to it if you're going to be accommodating his stay for a little while

of course, you accommodate willingly, to which he will always attempt to thank you for it, in his Tech ways

anything broken? not anymore

acts of service make his wizard brain hum with glee, so whenever you have an issue you'd like help with, he's already chomping at the bit and listing all the things he'll need to fix whatever ailes your mind

sleeping beside this man could not be more of a rollercoaster

sometimes he wants to cuddle up close, but other times he does indeed need his space. you've made a promise to always ask and find out what he's looking for, and this man practically melts like putty in your hands. god you're an angel in disguise for this troubled soul

with cuddle time, he'll place his hands where they're most comfortable. if they land somewhere spicy, it's simply because of his arm positioning. he's definitely a big spoon and absolutely relishes in the fact that he can make you feel safe. he doesn't mind if you're the only person in the galaxy that depends on him for safety, because he wouldn't have it any other way.

other nights when he needs his space, he'll lay beside you, fingers laced with yours, and wait for you to fall asleep comfortably. if you're talking for a little while, he pushes eye contact. it's his way of apologising for the lack of snuggles, which is equally taxing, but he wants to remind you that you are his world

absolutely a tea lover, and would just about pass away if you brought him a mug of leaf juice on a morning

always sneaking peeks at you, out of pure adoration. he thinks he hasn't been caught, but you caught him long ago, oogling at you fresh out of the shower wrapped in a towel

nice try Hun, maybe next time

hes leaving for a mission? he will break his internal rules and make a mess of your bed, filling it with blankets, pillows, and any soft items he can find. if he has a spare set of blacks, or even some clothes you bought for him as a casual wardrobe, he will make sure it smells like him so you've got extra comfort until he gets back

always telling you that he'll be back in -insert approximate date- but will forever promise to do his best to get back earlier

he won't call you call you petnames, but the way he says your name is so endearing. he says it with passion, and it melts your heart

"It won't take long. Around two weeks if all goes to plan, which is extremely unlikely due to the nature of the mission. But I do insist, I'll come back to you soon, y/n."

Echo

this absolute darling boy has been through the lot

Echo is a tough one, considering he isn't to big on making himself at home anywhere. he's pretty cut and run nowadays but for you? god he'll do his best

he keeps relatively tidy, making sure to help out with the dishes if you ask, or if you're looking pretty tired. he doesn't want you to push yourself when he could easily do it himself

he absolutely shoves a sponge on his scomp. do not @ me about this, imagine the glass cleaning efficiency of this man, god

he's a vivid enjoyer of quality time. while he can't exactly 100% convince himself that you find him comfortable enough to lay with or cuddle, he will always do his best to let you sit where you wish

he'll often ask that you sit on his right side, so he can hold you in his arm and rub gentle circles into your hip or waist as he gets comfy

he is a sleep avoider. you know he's got a lot in his head, and always wants to keep busy, which you're usually fine with, but when it's time to sleep, you'll always do your best to ramble him to sleep. god, this sweet man needs someone to consume his thoughts to ward off the nightmares

you're a big spoon most nights. not because Echo doesn't like spooning you, because he does, he absolutely adores it, but most often, Echo needs that sort of safety net. having familiar arms and weight around him will help him doze, and it'll chase away the bad thoughts clouding his sleep

when you're lil spoon, he will always nuzzle his face into your hair. the smell of your shampoo, and just you in general, is so comforting.

whenever he wakes up in a cold sweat, he feels bad for dampening the sheets, but as you've learned to wake with him in these situations, you always shush him and suggest he take a warm shower while you switch the sheets out for lovely warm ones

echo in a towel. you insist he makes you hot and bothered, and he does believe you every time you say it. he's starting to believe it, and by god you're helping his self esteem more and more each time he stays with you

before he deploys with the batch on a mission, he sits and stares at you, hand cupping your cheek, eyes flickering back and forth between your own

he likes to drink all of you in while he has the chance, and if ever he's thirsty, all he has to do is remember you

you're the last thing he wants to remember if ever he's faced with something anywhere close to Skako again.

"Ner mesh'la... I'll come back for your eyes alone. wait for me, please"

Crosshair

Where to begin?

Nightmare. he can be like having a teen in your home sometimes. snarky comments and sarcasm up the wazoo, but each one of them threatens to get you riled up

he's not the cleanest, but he will keep things in order a majority of the time, helping out with moving things and taking the bins out whenever you need, just so he can keep tabs on you

sharp shooters have sharp eyes, and his are trained like a hawk on you

he isn't the most affectionate, mostly expressing his love to you through teasing and sarcasm.

he likes commenting on your height, or making remarks on your handiwork with whatever you might be doing, though he never intends to be rude about it

sometimes when he's had an iffy day, or he's out of sorts, he'll wander up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, before he nose dives into your neck

he never does much without your explicit consent, but does cast glances often

let's face it. he does not care about what he's wearing around you. including nothing

"Cross- can you please at least put your briefs on?"

"Can you please keep your eyes off me? Cyar'ika, I thought you knew better."

sleeping goes as follows; if you want to spoon, he'll spoon, and hug you close in his sleep

if you want to lay on your back, your chest becomes free real estate.

oh, those are some comfy looking pillows you have there. big, small, or nothing at all, it's a pillow, and it's his

head on chest, hand on waist, absolute KO. he is not waking up

Cross, on the odd occasion, can feel vulnerable around you. when he's away from his work, he'll talk to you about some of the things that happened, and he knows you'll listen to every word, which he can't express his appreciation for

while you're not allowed to touch his rifle, he'll let you sit by him while he cleans it. in fact, he'll appreciate the company. he always does

"I'm off, cyare. Behave while I'm gone, and we won't have problems."

What a tease

[onecinder]

I'm really late but rereading the recent webcomic chapters reminded me how badly Genos's psyche is deteriorating

Like, Genos has stated THIS is how he thinks of himself SO MANY TIMES. That he’s ‘thrown away his human side’, is ‘a being whose only purpose in life is to fight' among other things really shows just how much he's beating himself up -- and he has been for a while, it's just recently it's probably been triggered by Dr. Kuseno's death.

And this panel is even more disturbing. He sees Boros and says he's a 'pathetic being whose only purpose in life is to fight.... just like me', and that boros (and therefore himself) is just a living being deprived of his will and operated as a weapon.

But the most disturbing thing is that he then he proceeds to try and PUT BOROS OUT OF HIS MISERY. Like, that's basically implying that Genos would put himself out of his misery as well if he could, and that he very well might -- after all, he's got a history of drastically trying to self-destruct or taking actions that may very well lead to self-destruction. He's a hero, yes, but sometimes he comes off as a little too eager to throw away his life in order to save lives, or just defeat a monster. But a large part of why he's still alive is because Saitama stops him.

Which brings me to the other thing that's deteriorating -- Genos and Saitama's relationship (though that could be seen coming from a mile away, honestly. All the little cracks in their relationship have been played off for laughs and gags up till now, but knowing ONE, a gag is always the surface of something more serious.)

Even Dr. Kuseno acknowledged directly that Saitama had a huge part in keeping Genos human, in control, and feeling like a normal teenager, and not self-destructing.

Saitama used to be the thing tethering him TO his humanity, but now that he's not even there for Genos, and Genos is mad at him, and Dr. Kuseno, the only person with sufficient emotional maturity to comfort Genos, is gone, what's left to keep him from absolutely losing it?

When I saw these two pages, I could at first see it being construed as: Genos's belief in the humanity and goodness in people allowed him to let Metal Knight to go unchecked, and then he also believed in Saitama's ability to stop him and save everyone if anything were to go awry, and that's what 'clouded his judgement'. But obviously that isn't how it's supposed to be construed. He's definitely mad at Saitama (my shipper heart went through the five stages of grief reading it)

Saitama can't save everyone, not even Dr. Kuseno. This is another example of the consequences of a gag rearing its ugly head now... his unconcerned nature was funny at first, but Genos now feels Saitama is to blame for the whole situation.

Even at this particular panel, which is pretty early on, it's like Saitama knows that Genos is mad at him and that his self-control may be slipping away, and either doesn't really know what to do or decides to give Genos space.

This is the second time across 2 different mediums that Saitama's tardiness and nonchalance caused someone important to him/the people around him to get killed (for the manga, Genos himself, and for the webcomic, Dr. Kuseno.)

Yet he STILL blames himself and goes back to thinking he's worthless and powerless and a shitty hero.

But there's no denying it, he's super mad. Saitama is no longer the perfect idol he looked up to. It used to be such a gag that Genos was willing to do anything for Saitama, and admired him to the point it was borderline obsessive, but the consequences are really showing now.

Buuuut, maybe this is all for the best. A question I avoided confronting was when Genos would finally blow up. For a relationship to be healthy, I think it definitely requires for the people in it to have arguments, disagreements, and work through them together. That's what constitutes a strong relationship with proper understanding and communication.

Aaand if it's one thing these two are bad at, it's communicating their needs and listening to each other imo. (Even Genos misunderstanding everything Saitama says for something suiting his own 'vision' of him is played off as a gag as well.)

It's just that the consequences of these issues are exaggerated by like x1000 and the fate of many people relies on the health of this relationship, and on Genos's psyche staying intact, so... uh, I hope it's all for the best?

If they both don't come out the other end holding hands and slowly mending then RIP Saigenos :(

(sorry for this long ass post it probably could've been summarised in 20 words about 3 months earlier)

[shawol-lisa-lee9]

TSC has been in my greedy hands for almost 48 hours now, and I managed to read it two and a half times already.

So many things to say about it, so little words I have to be able to do that. So, first of all

1) "Neil is such an unreliable narrator" not true, but can we talk about how Jean is just as much as "unreliable", but in a very different way? In the first three books we had a boy who cared so little about anything that wasn't exy (or Andrew) that he just didn't know/notice/cared enough to even acknowledge important things. In TSC we have a boy who knows SO LITTLE about anything in the World after being isolated for such a long time, that he sees everything through a distorted lens, and even when facts are right in front of him he just doesn't get it. They are not unreliable, they were forcefully taught to focus on things different than the whole picture.

2) Jean to me is so much a mixture of kevandreil it hurts me. He went through so much and yet gained so little it hurts. He has the same desperate will to live as Neil, the same "do what you want to me but keep X out of this" as Andrew (+ a lot of traumas), he has so many mental issues only Kevin can understand and a similar attitude. This not to say he's not "original", he's a very different person from the original trio, but he just... Has all of it. He combines other's main visible issues in one single person and it just hurts to see how much he's hurting but still wants and needs to carry on.

3) Neil X Jean scene at the end hits too hard on my heart. I do not presume to know exactly what my Goddess Nora was attempting to do with that, but my mind has found multiple possibilities on why Neil did what he did, and after all the times I read AFTG (which now amount to at least 35 rereads in a span of 3 years) only one has managed to grab my heart and never leave it. So, the main ones:

- As Jean thinks, Neil took care of Grayson because he is valuable in Ichirou's eyes, so Neil felt the need to protect Jean.

- Neil is aware of what Jean went through and is human enough to care for him, now that he knows he's not just a dick, and is willing to make sure Jean feels safe.

- Neil, being the person he is and having seen what Drake did to Andrew's mind, is not going to let Grayson do the same to anyone, especially someone he knows. As someone said here on Tumblr, "Neil is not gonna let a rapist alive if he can".

As I've come to understand the characters, for the first one, not even Neil is that cold that would just care about a person if they are valuable enough to him. In the second hypothesis, Neil is not the type of guy to just care that much about someone outside the foxes lot, but it's still a realistic idea, considering what Jean did for him in TRK. Third scenario, the most realistic and authentic one to me, he's not willing to let anyone get away with forcing themselves on another, even less if it's someone he knows and can do something about it. Which is also the reason why I'm obsessed with this scene and I would pay gold to see it in Neil's pov even when I know it's not possible.

4) Last point for this useless rant, CAN WE TALK ABOUT WYMACK? I swear to god that man is my absolute nightmare (in a good way), I just can't get over how much of a saint he is with those idiotic children he cares for + Jean. I just love him so much. He is rude and raw and can't be truly nice to save his life, but he cares, he cares about them with all his soul and he's not going to leave them alone when they need a helping hand the most.

I kind of wish coach Rhemann was like him, but at the same time I don't because a) if he was he would probably be at PSU, and b) I want him to be a completely different kind of dad to his boys and girls. (but I'm still going to cry on all of his scenes because that man is just too much for me (and for Jean), understanding but not pushing, being respectful of boundaries and "This was the belligerent stare of a man who’d haul Lucas out of there by force if Jean indicated he didn’t want to be alone with him.". )

So, yeah. I'm probably going to read it a third time tonight.

[firstkanaphans]

Oh the lengths I'd go to see the bts of the apartment fight scene 😭😭😭😭😭 that must've been so tough on FirstKhao but JFC???!?!?!??? THEIR TALENT???????? I'm still in shock, I'll need the whole week to recover

Judging by the five (5!) asks I have in my inbox, y’all really want to talk about the apartment scene 😂 So let’s do it!

First, just a little background on me. I work with addicts on a daily basis and although it’s not alcohol addiction I’m dealing with, the psychology of it is the same. I’ve seen a few people be critical of Ray choosing to change for someone other than himself, but—and I cannot stress this enough—if someone wants to change at all, I don’t really give a fuck what their reason is. Do you know how hard it is to make people want to change?

In my experience, most people want to change for someone else because most people with an addiction have already been so beaten down by the addiction itself that they no longer think they’re worth saving. Someone genuinely wanting to change for themself comes later. At the beginning, people are usually motivated by their family. 

The danger of this, of course, is that if you lose your reason to change, you also lose your motivation to change, and this is what we see happen between Sand and Ray in the apartment scene.

Ray spends the majority of this episode very blasé about rehab. He still doesn’t think he has a problem and is essentially just going through the motions to please Sand. He’s throwing away his wine bottles, but not in a way that’s permanent. He doesn’t pour them out. He doesn’t even get rid of all of them and he’s sipping on a glass of whiskey as he does it. He’s doing it for show. So when he learns that Sand isn’t just asking him to go to rehab out of the goodness of his heart—that he’s getting paid to do it—Ray finally has what he has wanted all along: an excuse not to go.

I think something people don’t talk about enough when it comes to addiction is how comforting the addiction is to the person who’s addicted. It’s their security blanket. It’s the thing that helps them get through the day. Often, it’s the only thing that makes them want to be alive even as it’s slowly killing them. Any normal person is going to be resistant to that change. So Ray gives Sand what he thinks is an impossible ultimatum: You tell your father who you are (something you have spent the past twenty-two years not doing) and I will go to rehab. 

Only Sand cares about him so much that he actually does it.

I truly believe that even in the absence of Ray’s father paying Sand, their blow-up in the apartment would have happened anyway. Ray would have found something to sever ties with Sand over because without Sand, he has no obligation to go to rehab. Addicts will do anything—and hurt anyone—to keep the source of their addiction close. And I also think that there’s still a part of Ray that wants to save Sand from himself. He said it to Mew early on: “You deserve a nice guy.” Ray thinks Sand deserves someone better.

Khaotung acted his ass off this whole episode, but what I really loved was the nuance First brought to Sand’s character. He lets Ray yell because he knows he’s done wrong, but he also understands that they aren’t just yelling about the money. He knows Ray doesn’t actually believe what he’s saying. Sand has always refused any money Ray gave him. He’s been nothing but caring. Nothing but kind. He knows that Ray’s trying to push him away and he has no choice but to let him. No choice but to continue letting Ray hurt himself.

And then, after the fight, we see Ray drinking again, no longer even trying to pretend, and my favorite part of the entire episode is the fact that what makes Ray finally choose to get help is the knowledge that he has hurt Sand. The realization of how much pain he has caused him. The acknowledgement that this relationship is the most important thing to him and he’s willing to do absolutely anything he can to save it.

My dad got sober for me and my sister. My best friend got sober for her unborn child. That is the kind of love we're working with here. The kind of love that makes you want to be a better person.

[dhampling]

moon river

“Remember when you asked me why?” “Why you cared?” He recalls with a joking menace on the last word, leaning back on his palm and bringing his chalice to his lips. “Yeah.” - probably the most personal thing i will ever post on the internet disguised as a reader insert. enjoy! w/c: 813

A considered silence, the earliest hours of the morning. The occasional break, the glug of wine into a silver chalice. Two. The city below still alive in a quiet amber hum.

The Lower City wall. One of the clandestine turrets just along from the Szarr Palace, blankets around shoulders.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

He turns his head in a dozy cant. Lids heavy. Looks at you through a slow blink, dark lashes.

If this were only weeks ago he’d have been skittish at the suggestion. ‘The guard’ would have gone up, the desperate need to keep you close.

How he luxuriates in your company now. Unwavering. Devoted. Proven. Known. Revered.

The Absolute nothing but a brain in the water.

“Anything.” Astarion smiles lazily. 

“Remember when you asked me why?”

“Why you cared?” He recalls with a joking menace on the last word, leaning back on his palm and bringing his chalice to his lips. 

“Yeah.”

He hums in acknowledgement, edging you on at your own pace. A calm quirk plays at the very corner of his lips.

“I saw some of myself in you.”

You let the statement hang for a moment. He swills the red nectar around his teeth and swallows slowly.

“You did, did you?”

“Yeah.’

You lift your own chalice. The stars above never looked brighter than they do now, the clearest of cool nights; the lax billow of sails far along the Chionthar, the couple you see stumbling blindly from a middle-distant tavern. The final call from within. 

‘A lot of my life has been spent making people feel exceptionally wanted. Stealing their hearts to whatever extent that’d allow me to get the reaction I wanted. A mechanical ploy - never cruel, not forced as such - but learned nonetheless. Reading faces, bodies; holding both with reverence.’

You sip. The water sparkles.

‘Giving to whoever promised adoration. Making the occasional someone feel loved enough to keep me safe in their head. A campfire tale.’

There’s a mirth to your smile, teeth glazed in wine and white bread.

‘From the moment I met you I knew there was a vulnerability to you. I loved it.’

Astarion pokes you with his elbow, clicking his tongue but remaining quiet. 

‘You’re beautiful. Those who are so damn godsly-blessed as you rarely have the insecurity I could smell from you, from the knife at my neck. From the fear in the furrow of your brow.’

You know he aches for the sun.

But as the moon catches his profile you see he is the ultimate divine here, now, in this light; at your side. Gossamer to the tips of his curls. Soft, heavy; tongue whetting his lips, mapping constellations in his glorious mind and listening.

Listening to you. 

Without witness. Without reward.

‘And it seems we were both playing the same game. The worst bit is I didn’t even know I was playing one.”

There’s a beat of silence before he opens his mouth to talk.

“In the moment you never do, do you?’

He understands. Gods, he understands. He takes the threads of your lives and weaves them together, just as you’ve done this whole time.

‘You just do what you have to. What feels right. Whatever is going to give you the response you need.”

He was being forced to do what he had to. You did it because you had to. 

It’d be so easy for him to play points in the viciousness of his situation, but he sees that there is familiarity - a gap, as wise as an ocean and simultaneously as small as a grain of sand - in the sentiment. 

You wonder where the point scoring mindset comes from. Why each experience has to be weighty and balanced against another. Why you compare yours to his in any coherent sense.

Then you see the smile.

Ruinous. Saccharine. Eyes of red honey. A hand covering yours.

“Listen, because I won’t repeat it.’

You look at him and you see every dream you’ve ever had. The golden mornings, piles of riches, robes of silk. A house in the clearing. Chickens. Children. A lover so infallible they won’t scare. Your charm, your wit and irreverence; a life of a charm offensive, and all of it evaporates the minute he takes your fingertips in tiny kisses.

‘It worked. You won. You never have to fight like that again. To convince, to perceive the thoughts of others and how they may benefit you or otherwise.’

He rolls his hand in the air, starbound; sweet. 

‘I love you. Irrevocably. You did it. My darling, you won.’

His head shakes a little from side to side as he sips.

‘Admittedly not a flawless prize, but one you’ve won fair and square. Devoted entirely to you.’

Astarion pauses to think. Looks to the moon on the river.

‘Rest east, lover. You’ve got this, and I’ve got you. From here on out.”