#Her character helps others to grow and change and that's great

[starrynightkyoru]

Society if Tohru was allowed to set healthy boundaries for herself

[batfamfucker]

Appreciation post for 'girly girl' characters and/or shows that celebrate traditionally feminine things that girls and women are shamed for.

Characters on this list that love makeup, fashion, hair, etc. Characters that are still written as strong, intelligent, brave, etc. That told young girls that these interests are valid, they are not lesser interests. Being feminine and liking traditionally feminine things does not make them weak.

[reinabeestudio]

I think that despite having a selfless heart, Cee has also lots of Repressed Emotions inside her due to the events that led to her current situation (namely the bastard father of her twins. She has a lot of Feelings on the matter).

But being raised as a "proper lady" ('always appear quiet and content while looking effortlessly beatiful, be a caring wife and loving mother'), she just bottled everything negative up and instead focuses on her kids. Surely this is a healthy way of living and won't end up taking a toll on her health 👍

[stemiwithme]

ok ok ok look at these original character descriptions from the pitt’s OG logline/pitch (x)

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, Chief Attending and head of the PTMC Emergency Department. Robby is honest to a fault and does not suffer fools. A great doctor, greater teacher, and questionable human being, Robby is still carrying heavy post-COVID PTSD, he just won’t acknowledge it.

Dr. Collins, Senior Resident. Collins transitioned from a career in finance to medicine after the 2008 recession, drawing on her strong moral compass and type-A skills. Now in her final year of residency, Collins remains focused on her career and personal goals.

Dr. Langdon, Senior Resident. Regarded by Dr. Robby as the heir apparent of The Pitt, Langdon, a charismatic and upbeat presence in the E.D., is everyone’s favorite doctor. He overcame a devastating back injury to become a dedicated doctor.

Dr. Mohan, Third Year Resident. Mohan, known by her colleagues as “Slow Mo,” is a compassionate and knowledgeable doctor who believes in understanding her patients’ entire lives. Now at PTMC for her residency, Mohan is deeply immersed in her work and research on racial disparity in the E.D.

Dr. McKay, Second Year Resident. Once a wild child with a substance abuse problem, after losing custody of her son, McKay went to rehab, got clean and pursued medical school to prove her worth. Now a sober single mother, she is determined to help others avoid the pitfalls that nearly consumed her.

Dr. King, Second Year Resident. Growing up with a twin sister who has high-support ASD, King was inspired to pursue medicine, aiming to advocate for Autism awareness. Despite facing personal tragedies, King now balances caregiving for her sister with her career as a doctor.

Dr. Santos, Intern. A former athlete and Fourth Year Medical Student, Santos is tough as nails with no filter. Now doing her residency at PTMC, Santos’ competitive streak hasn’t gone away, she just channels it into medicine.

Whitaker, Fourth Year Medical Student. Hailing from Broken Bow, Nebraska, Whitaker is a small-town boy who left life on his family’s farm to pursue his dreams in medicine. His determination to succeed remains unwavering, despite several setbacks that challenge his confidence and make him question his purpose.

Javadi, Third Year Medical Student. Daughter of two second-generation South Asian American parents, one of whom works in the hospital, Javadi was destined for great academic success. Now approaching the end of her academic journey, she aims to establish her own identity beyond her impressive achievements and parental expectations.

Dana Evans, Charge Nurse. With 30 years of experience, Dana is a hard-working, no nonsense, much-respected part of the E.D. The oldest of five, she has the perfect set of skills needed to run the PTMC nursing team. She knows more than most doctors and she’s not afraid to tell them.

obviously there were a few changes made and not all of this went on to become a canon part of the show (also the part where santos is both an intern and an MS4?….someone missed that on the proofread but that’s ok!) but like…..heather collins former finance girlboss turned doctor???? mel and becca as TWINS???!!! langdon’s back injury implied to have happened before he even became a doctor??!? santos confirmed athlete (GAY) !!!!! dana being the oldest sibling out of five!!!???? ohhhh i am chewing on all of this like a dog with a bone the possibilities are ENDLESS and beautiful. everyone say thank you tvline <3

[angelltheninth]

Hello...it is really nice to meet you,I've read all your masterlists and they're all great. I was wondering if you're still writing for Ultraman rising ? If so, Kenji sato x fem model s/o Who helps Kenji take care of baby kaiju , The cute little pink creature had to be protected. And that meant the baby kaiju saw Kenji as his father and the fem model s/o as it mother, right?

Yes yes , thats gonna be so adorable...~

Sfw please and that's all for me

Thank you ❤️💋🍓

I still write for Ultraman yeah, of course. This is a very cute prompt.

Pairing: Kenji "Ken" Sato x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, family fluff, dating, cuddles, protectiveness, co-parenting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Co-parenting fluff lets go!

Kenji didn't want to get you involved with his Kaiju parenting problems so he never insisted on you going over to his place, not even once

All your dates were outside ones, all your nights were spent together at hotels or at your home

It was also the first time in a long time that he's been in a longer relationship

With you being a model you were busy too but you really made an effort to get to know him better, you could tell that he was hiding something

A secret baby Kaiju was not what you were expecting, or the fact that he was the new Ultraman

That was a secret you got out of him by pure chance, a night where you could tell he was too tired and had a bit too much to drink

Only when you were already standing at the doorstep of his house did he notice that you were still helping him walk straight

He apologized for avoiding the subject before, but with his lifestyle, with both of you constantly being in the spotlight, him being a baseball star and you a model, he couldn't risk more of his secrets getting out

Lucky him that you are really good at keeping secrets

At first it takes a long time for you and Emi to get along, after all Emi was very protective of her dad

She would growl and hiss at you when she would see you walking hand in hand with Kenji

But she also recognized the fact that he seemed a lot more relaxed and happier when you were with him

Kenji noticed that you enjoyed posing for Emi or showing her pictures of yourself in pretty outfits

So he gets the brilliant idea to make a date night one where you get to be a model, but just for him and his daughter, try on your best outfits

You spend some of that time flirting with Kenji, winking at him, taking your time walking back to change into a different outfit

A few outfits are some that you know he likes very, very much

Emi falls asleep first, she's still a baby, even if she is Kaiju sized

This leaves you and Kenji with a little bit of alone time

You quickly grow protective over Emi, encouraging Kenji to spend more time with her but then getting invited along because Emi always laughs happily when she sees you

She sleeps with you under one arm and Kenji under the other, like you're plushies

[amoromniaodium]

Animal Kingdom

Andrew Pope Cody

Thank you all for reading the preview! I didn’t expect such a positive reaction to my writing. Your likes and comments have truly inspired me — I already have two more parts planned. Feel free to share your thoughts, whether good or bad. I always appreciate honest feedback.

We’ll be seeing more of the Cody family soon, but I wanted to give you some background on Pope and my character first.

Chapter 1

The Revival

—

When she was five, she witnessed something she’d only later come to recognize as bipolar disorder in her mother.

Her mother didn’t believe in medication. Said it made her too foggy, too far from herself. So she replaced prescriptions with “the good drugs.” And from then on, her daughter saw things no child should ever see — things done to her mother, things done by her mother.

By the age of ten, she was the unofficial head of the household. She cleaned, cooked, kept the apartment running. She stole — not because she liked it, but because it was the only way to survive. She lifted money from the men her mother brought home. Took soap, toothpaste, and pads from school. Stole lunches from bigger kids. She was a pro.

She loved her mother. Deeply. Enough to make sure she ate, drank water, showered. Enough to keep watch when her mother’s “friends” were over. She loved her even when she didn’t understand her — especially then. That’s where her obsession with psychology began.

She had seen people overdose. Seen how depression and addiction twisted people until they became unrecognizable. She didn’t judge. She watched. She asked questions. She wanted to understand. Needed to understand.

Her schoolwork improved. She started talking to the men who didn’t make her stomach twist. She made them feel seen. Safe. And in return, they opened up. She never gave advice. She just listened. By sixteen, she had done more emotional labor than most people do in a lifetime.

She read psych books from the library and used the tools they taught. Guided conversations, helped others find their own answers. She helped build relationships, and quietly helped end toxic ones, too.

They cried in front of her. Sat with her in silence. Let their rage unravel in the safety of her presence. And when her mother spiraled — manic or depressed — they were there. They helped her study. Helped her apply to university. Helped her celebrate when she got into med school on a partial scholarship.

And they were there when her mother overdosed.

In the quietest, darkest part of her chest, she was relieved.

She left. She studied. She was great at it — not just because she was smart, but because she understood. She could see pain before it was spoken. And she was determined to help fix both mind and body. That’s what led to her final rotation, at Folsom State Prison — and to the man who would change her completely.

⸻

Her first day at Folsom, she knew: this was not where she wanted to be.

Her attending was kind — as kind as one can be after decades in a place like this. He laid out the rules, the code, the expectations. Who to trust. What not to wear. How to walk, how to speak. He gave her a list of patients, diagnoses, medication routines.

That’s when she saw his name.

Andrew David Cody.

A massive dose of Thorazine. Enough to sedate rage. She didn’t meet the inmates until two weeks in.

And the moment she saw his eyes — dark, empty, emotionless — she should have known it wouldn’t end well.

⸻

There’s something to be said about leaving employment to return to school.

After her residency, she realized she didn’t want to be a prison psychiatrist. Not because she couldn’t handle it — but because she had no real power to help. She thought of a pair of eyes — dark, sad, and unblinking — and knew that wasn’t enough.

So she returned. Started a certificate in criminology, hoping to understand them better. But maybe it was something simpler than that: maybe she just didn’t want to grow up. Not yet.

Maybe she should work at a hospital in California. Maybe she should leave the country. Or maybe… maybe she should go back to her mother’s apartment. Let herself rot quietly, the way her mother had.

But then, walking out of class one evening, she saw him.

Not saw — felt.

A presence.

Straight-backed. Arms at his sides. Short sleeved shirt buttoned to the top like a priest.

And eyes — hawk-like, locked on her.

Andrew Cody.

But this time, for the first time since he’d been released, there was something new in his gaze.

A flicker of light in all that darkness.

⸻

There was something to say about the first time she saw him in months —it wasn’t fear that struck her. It was relief. A twisted kind of happiness.

Not about how he found her. Not how he knew where to look.

But because he was out. He had made parole.

Her first instinct, naive as it was, hoped he hadn’t gone back.

Not to that house. Not to her.

That maybe he’d gotten his own place, finally freed himself from the grip of that obsessive, broken mother — and the suffocating loyalty to his family.

But no.

She knew better.

Of course he hadn’t. They were the only thing he had ever known.

Letting go of them would be like letting go of oxygen.

She understood.

The only reason she ever left was because her mother was six feet under. These thoughts flickered and died the moment she saw him — standing there awkwardly, stiff as ever, eyes locked on her like always.

She moved toward him, not quite running, but not walking either.

Stopped just short of touching distance.

“Andrew!” she breathed. “You… you did it. Oh my God, I’m so happy for you. I knew you could do it.”

He didn’t say a word.

Just stared. But she saw it — the barest twitch of his mouth, a subtle lift of his brow.

He was happy to see her.

“How are you feeling? Have you seen your brothers?” she asked gently.

He replied, voice low. “Yes.”

She didn’t ask about his mother. She didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to open that door. Not yet.

So she reached for the first thing that surfaced — something safer.

“The fountain… did Baz ever finish it?” Her voice came out too light, too casual — even she could hear it.

But it was the only thing she could grab. He had once told her Baz promised to finish it while he was gone.

A flicker again — this time annoyance. A tilt of the head, the slightest grimace.

“No. I’m making it.”

So he was back there.

“Ah,” she said softly. “Well… I’m not really surprised. From what you told me about Baz…”

(From what your eyes told me. From what your silences said.)

“But it’s good, right? Keeps you busy. Keeps your mind quiet.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared.

“Right. Sorry… are you hungry? Want to grab something to eat?”

“I thought you were done with school,” he said.

“Yeah. I was. I don’t know —” she gave a nervous laugh, tugged at her sleeve, “—I guess I’m just not ready for the real world yet.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I understand.”

“I know you do, Andrew,” she said gently. “Let’s go. There’s this Mexican place nearby — it’s amazing.”

She reached out instinctively, about to touch his arm — but paused.

He was watching her hand. Not with fear. Not quite with hope. Just a quiet, unreadable stillness. Like he wanted it more than anything but wouldn’t let himself show it.

There was something in his eyes — not pleading, but almost… waiting. The kind of stillness a child holds when something precious is near, afraid to move and scare it off.

She hesitated, her fingers curling slightly.

She knew how vulnerable he was in that moment. Knew what it meant — what it would mean — to touch him here, like this. There was desire under it, yes, but not sexual. Not yet. It felt more like comforting a child after a nightmare.

So she moved slowly.

When she finally took his hand, his fingers didn’t flinch. Didn’t tighten. Just rested there — solid, warm, resigned.

But he didn’t pull away.

And that was everything.

She led him forward, her grip light, his steps heavier — like he was trying not to fall into her.

[marlshroom]

came to the fucked up realization after finishing gravity falls again last night the parallels of the dream bubble bill made for mabel and the literal state of delusion he keeps himself in.

in the book of bill on the page where bill cipher describes how he figured out a way to manipulate her into giving him the rift, it says:

"Summers ending, my guy. Ending to death, bro. She'd do anything to make it last just a day longer. Probably something RASH and OUT OF CHARACTER, even!"

as we know, mabel cannot handle the fact that she will be growing up. that the relationship with her brother is going to change. she is scared of high school.

bill then says "That was it. She'd never make a deal with me. But she'd make a deal with someone she believed could give her more time. The dream was done. I had her."

bill then creates the dream bubble for mabel, he makes every one of her dreams come true, a place where time is still and she can be a kid forever. a lie so great that she wont have to face the truth.

in journal 3 on one of the pages bill is writing in code, we see this:

[ID: "I ask you, why must[should] time only move forward? Why must cause preceded effect. Who voted on the law of physics."]

my friend helped me break down what bill means by this:

why can we only move forward in the 4th dimension of time. why does something have to make another thing happen, why must cause come before the effect. why cant you move backwards, in the other direction, change the decisions youve made.

how interpret this is bill asking why he is not able to back and stop what he did to his family. he says to ford that he tried and failed to undo the past.** why did him wanting people to acknowledge his advantages instead of suppress him lead to the destruction of his whole dimension?

**(i just want to point out that this is probably the time where bill is the MOST open to anybody, or at least the first. to his henchmaniacs he had been telling them that he liberated his dimension until the oracle discovered the truth. here, to ford, he got so much closer to telling the truth. he SHOWS ford the last atoms of his world. he says that it was destroyed by a monster, not that it was liberated! destroyed)

back to when bill says "I had her" about mabel, he had her cause he knew exactly what needed to happen to trap mabel in a delusion because it is exactly what he is doing to himself. creating a fake narrative of what happened to him, that he was vindicated in killing his whole dimension. only ever doing exactly what he wants because confronting the truth is too scary for him(good fucking lord). the morality page offers good insight into this too.

i am actually just going to quote the whole page and highlight the important part. it speaks for itself really

"THE POINT IS it's[morality] is a very flexible concept! But parents and presidents don't want you to know that, because then you might start asking other questions, like who put them in charge, anyway? So they cram your brain full of guilt and regrets for transgressing the laws that they just made up(the laws that they made to prevent the destruction of their dimension, regardless of if the law + the wrongful medication of a fucking baby triangle did any good to actually prevent it). Wouldn't it be nice if you could put all that baggage down? Quell the shame that follows you everywhere for a lifetime of crimes? MAKE THE SCREAMS FINALLY STOP? The good news is you CAN silence that annoying voice, and here's how!

DENIAL

Works 100% of the time in every situation. What you you mean there are people who disagree? I can confidently say there aren't!

RATIONALIZATION

If you can do it, you can justify it! "Truth" is open-source code and anyone can edit it anytime! Want to be like me? List 3 "evil" things and then 3 "reasons why they're actually good." You'll be rationalizing like Bill in no time!

DETACHMENT

Did you know 100% of your human cells die and are replaced every 7 years? That means that anything you did 7 years ago wasn't even you-it was some dead loser! You can't be held accountable for what a dead person did! What? You think this is just another form of rationalization? I DENY THAT!

THE BILL CIPHER DECISION METHOD!

Working over the eons, the voices in my head teamed up and worked out a foolproof method for making any decision in any situation.

DO WHATEVER I WANT."

ooooooooooooooooooh boy.

he is fully admitting here that he is living in a completely different really in order to justify doing whatever he wants. he gives mabel the tools to deny, to rationalize, to detach herself from the reality of it all. that time has to move forward. and he thinks it will work because it worked on himself.

but it doesn't work on mabel because she understands that she needs other people. shes vunerable, she lets people in, admits when shes wrong. and bill cant do that because it would destroy the fantasy he's created for himself.

[requinoesis]

Do you have a favorite among them? Or are they equally your children to your heart

I certainly love them all equally! But there's a funny story about it.

Originally the story I wanted to tell about the sharkfolk town called Reefhaven (or Reefside, I couldn't decide on a good name yet), would be through the lives of three juveniles, you may have seen them around. Hanna (Bonnethead shark) , Lucca (Zebra shark) and Macco as the main protagonist! (Mako shark)

It was a simple story about when we dream too big about what we want to be when we grow up and discover that it won't necessarily be what we imagine, but that realistically it could be related. Hanna dreams of mastering music and singing, but discovers that her talent lies in composing musical instruments. Lucca dreams of writing a fantasy or RPG book, but will discover that his talent lies in creating dungeons and organizing level design. Macco, being the most abstract, dreamed of being a racing pilot and created an extensive comic book about it, only to discover in the end that it wasn't the racing that caught his attention, but how much it opened up his imagination and he would discover that he would be a good art director! With these three, discovering that together, they could create a video game together!

The creation of this video game would trigger important events for the well-being of Reefhaven and these three children would become a symbol of hope, motivation and inspiration for the inhabitants of the town, who are recovering from a collective trauma.

And to expand the story to tell the lives of other inhabitants, I then thought of creating the “idols” of inspiration for these three children, which they created a lot of expectation so that in the end these idols would help them open their eyes to their real talents.

⭐Macco's idol was a famous shark mako racing pilot called Vicky Stormrider. She was facing her own problems of wanting to end her career but was feeling trapped by the high expectations of her supporters and admirers, until an accident changed everything.

⭐Lucca's idol was a famous whale shark writer called Julian Whalesong, renowned for a fantasy book. He also had his own problems because he missed his dead daughter and was facing a creative block and pressure to create a sequel to his books.

⭐Hanna's idol was a shark band called Dreamfarers, which, guess what, is Roberto, Tiago and Aria's band! They were facing problems finding support to bring their music to life in the city, and at some point these three children's idols connected at a common event.

But by strange ironies of the universe, my mind traveled deep into the characters of this band, especially Roberto, I decided not to censor my imagination so I just let it flow to see where it would go. I went so far with Roberto that I created for him: personal problems and the ways he found to overcome them or find escapism, conflicts and resolutions in love relationships, childhood traumas, likes and fears, supernatural and mystical events, ancestral memories and origins, complex families, etc.

I have no idea why this happened, but I'm having a lot of fun so far! I haven't forgotten the three children, they will play a part in all this at some point, I think. It's a shame that my physical ability to illustrate is disproportionate to my ability to imagine, I'm quite slow at manifesting art into reality, I still want to show a lot of things, as many of them are unknown to me because I'm a person, introvert, ace and on the autism spectrum, so having feedback from other people who better understand the construction of captivating characters is a great light for me!

I'm very grateful to everyone who shows support or interest in my shork creations! 🌊🦈✨

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do hashira with an extremely tall s/o, who is additionally mean & scary looking but literally the sweetest person ever. No rush(if you do it) Thankyouu! ^^

(Hello hello Anon! I hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this. This is mainly like how you met/how the Hashira first impression of you so I hope that’s okay. Have a great day/night!)

Unexpected Softy

(Characters Included- All the Hashira)

(Warning: GN! Reader, fluff, and some swearing)

🦋Shinobu Kocho🦋

- She first met you in her infirmary, you were injured in a fight fairly badly so you were in a vulnerable position. Due to the condition you were in she had to keep a very close eye on you, to ensure your safety. She saw it all by now in the Demon Slayer Corps after all, so your intimating looks didn’t faze her.

- She does find it adorable that you look all tough on the outside but is actually a big softy. She teases you about it all the time, she just can’t help herself.

🐍Iguro Obanai🐍

- Was shocked at first about how sweet you were compared to your appearance. He thinks it’s a nice contrast though, it’s one of the things he likes about you the most.

- He ended up growing fond of you very quickly. It was a strange feeling for him at first, considering kindness in his world is hard to come by. Even so, you continued to be so nice and eventually he got used to the new feeling.

🍡Mitsuri Kanroji🍡

- Was lowkey a tiny bit scared of you at first but still thought that you looked cool. She wanted to get to know you but didn’t know how exactly to approach you. So one day when she was having a snack, she saw you and offered you some. Once she realizes how nice you are, that fear completely dissipates in an instant.

- One of the many things she loves about you is that you’re taller than her, more of you to hug (koala style or one of those bone-crushing hugs)

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- Not afraid of you at all, in fact he approaches you first. You two got along really well, especially with both of your kind spirits. Even some of the people who were terrified of you saw you two being so friendly and got over their fears.

- If he sees other slayers nearby visibly shaking in their boots because of you, he’ll kindly introduce them to you and tell them that there’s nothing to be afraid of. He will also say how kind you are and to never judge a book by its cover.

🔊Tengen Uzui🔊

- He’s another one who talks to you first. He likes your vibe. He definitely helps boost your confidence, the compliments he gives you and how he hypes you up is enough to make your confidence skyrocket.

- When you meet his wives, they get comfortable with you fast due to your kind nature. Even though Suma is a bit afraid of you, she enjoys your company and eventually warms up to you.

☁️Muichiro Tokito☁️

- Didn’t think much about you at first. I mean demons look scarier than you, some of them at least. Then fast forward to when you two started dating, he began to notice how others looked/acted towards you. He questioned it to himself but didn’t say anything as long as no one messed with you.

- Your kindness rubs off on him a bit the more you two hang out together. The other Hashira even notices the change.

🌪️Sanemi Shinazugawa🌪️

- At first he mistook your tough demeanor as you thinking that you’re better than everyone and that made him angry. He didn’t say anything though, but that was until one day you accidentally bumped into him. He got pissed thinking that you did it on purpose and started yelling at you, accusing you of thinking that you’re superior to everyone.

- Once he was finished ranting, you cleared things up telling him that none of that was true. Fast forward months later when you started dating, that first confrontation became a inside joke between you two (he kinda feels bad about it, he makes it up to you tho)

🌊Giyuu Tomioka🌊

- He can relate to you, after all, being a Hashira he also knows what it feels like to have people be afraid of you. When you first spoke to him, he was pleasantly surprised by your kindness. It makes a small smile appear on his normally blank face.

- Does make a mental note to compliment your appearance and tough exterior often when you’re dating. Just in case your brain decides to mess with you one day and tries to make another insecurity.

🪨Gyomei Himejima🪨

- Doesn’t notice your “scary” looks because, well, he’s blind. Though he does however notice the way people act around you and the tension that arises in the air whenever you come along. He doesn’t understand at first until he asks the frightened people what’s wrong.

- Of course the terrified slayers just said it was nothing and scurried off. He was even more confused. Until you came up to him and explained that they were most likely scared of you. You said it like it was nothing because you were used to it by now. Gyomei nodded in understanding, he knows how you feel and offers some words of encouragement.

Masterlist

[okiedokrie]

All Is Fair In Love And War Pt.1

Summary: Joshua is nothing if not determined. If he wants something, he'll get it; not that he even had to try before. But sometimes, like Icarus, he flies a little too close to the sun. But hey, all is fair in love and war!

Characters/Pairing: Aphrodite Incarnation!Joshua x Fem!Detective!Very Mortal!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, angst if you really squint

AUs/Trope Info: Greek God!AU, Partners In Solving Crimes, Strangers to Lovers, "time isnt linear" trope, "holy shit im kind of obsessed with you" trope

Word Count: 3,194 (Full fic is around 10k)

Warnings: Depiction of a crime scene (gore, blood, gun, conspiracy), depiction of drug use, character death (major and minor), smut warnings in the next part

Rating: 18+

A/N: I decided to split this into parts since I'm not confident ill be able to finish this within the deadline, this is part of the The 13 Gods of Olympus: A Seventeen collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions! This is just the first part, so if you enjoy it, please consider signing up for the taglist. Thank you!!

In the summer of 2000, Joshua Hong was almost five years old. People always commented on how pretty he was for a kid, that he’d surely grow up to be a very handsome man.

Which is why it was a tragedy when he died from a freak truck accident.

Yes, Joshua Hong died at the age of five. For like, 10 minutes.

The doctors called it a miracle - a small child should not have survived a whole six of the twelve truck wheels, but somehow he was resuscitated, much to his parents’ delight.

This incident caused two things to change dramatically - Californetherlands now has stricter trucking laws and Joshua woke up to memories of literally being Aphrodite.

Throughout the years, from that fateful summer day to the present day, Joshua flopped back and forth between believing that the memories were just fever dreams and genuinely considering that he may be a reincarnation of the goddess. But ever since he got to hone his powers, he’s been more inclined to believe the latter.

By the age of 28, he has mastered the art of seduction. No, not sleeping with people constantly. It was more so the art of getting people to say ‘yes’ to everything he asked of them.

This made Joshua a very powerful and influential figure in Los Amsterdam; You see, the way he dealt wasn’t by out-witting people or being richer than them. He dealt in favors. If you wanted to be a popstar, he’d introduce you to a famous producer, and get you a record deal that would solidify your career - all for the low, low price of free.

In turn, you’d owe him, like the many powerful people who owed him large favors.

Joshua found himself in downtown LA, in the club that he owned, just under his penthouse. He enjoyed playing the guitar and performing for his patrons, everyone seemingly captivated by his voice, or his beauty, whichever one caught their attention first. He finally strummed the last chord of his song, enjoying the applause of the crowd as the DJ started to play the usual club music. Just as he was about to retreat to the bar, a feminine voice stopped him.

“Joshua! Hey!” She said, hair bouncing over her new fur coat, jumping excitedly, calling him over.

Joshua smiled widely at her - she was one of the people he had helped start her career as a singer. He didn’t do much other than introduce her to the CEO of her current label, it was her natural talent that got her this far.

“Ah, Diana, good to see you!” He said, going over to meet her in a friendly hug, the kind that didn’t touch at all. “How has being a singer treated you? Any good news?” He said, making small talk with an old acquaintance.

“Oh please,” she started, her new haughty attitude showing, “It’s all over the news! I just got nominated for a Grammy!” She said in a sing-song tone. Joshua just nodded Truth be told, he didn’t really have much interest in pop music, but he did try to match her enthusiasm.

“That’s great! I knew you’d make it big.” he said, remembering the first time she came to him, a girl in clothes that almost looked like rags, now decked out in every designer brand you could think of. “So, what brings you back here then? Surely you already have everything you ever wanted?” He said lightheartedly. Even if all of Joshua’s connections owed him favors, it was quite uncommon for them to come back to him after having achieved their dreams.

“Well,” She said, her old, meek bashfulness coming to the surface. “I just wanted to see you again, to thank you for what you have done for me.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “And I know no matter what favor I do for you in return, I could never break even for just how much you’ve impacted my life. So, thank you, Joshua.”

Joshua genuinely felt relieved to hear her say that - usually, people’s pride and greed got in the way of them acknowledging those who truly helped them along the way, but as he suspected, this girl still had a soul so pure. “Let's get some drinks by the bar and chat some more, yeah? My treat.” He offered, which she gladly took, the conversation between them flowed naturally, Joshua enjoying her tales of success.

It was an hour after the club closed that Diana decided it was time to head home. Joshua offered to see her off, like the gentleman he was, and so they walked to the sidewalk, her hand around his arm.

Joshua opened the taxi door for her, offering her a few bills in cash to cover the fare, “It was nice seeing you again, hopefully, you’ll make time to catch up with me in the future.” he said through the taxi window.

“Yeah, I hope I get the chance to see you again soon. Goodnight Joshua.” She said as she rolled up the taxi window.

Joshua watched the taxi drive until the end of the block, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, another car intercepted her in the intersection.

It happened so quickly, too quickly for Joshua to even register the new car’s window sliding down, holding a gun out to the taxi Diana was in. Gunshots echoed through the street, the sound of tires popping and glass shattering but all Joshua could make out was the sound of two sets of four tires screeching against the concrete. Diana’s taxi collided with a nearby lamppost, the taxi flattening and curling around it.

That was the last time Joshua saw her alive.

It was all over the news “Beloved Grammy-nominated rising star, Undyne, passed at a downtown intersection in a successful assassination.” Headlines went crazy with her story, telling her life before her short-lived success as a pop star.

The police were on her case, and the street cameras identified a black car with a non-existent plate number. they couldn’t find the people who owned it, but they did have enough evidence to call it a homicide.

Joshua, being close to the scene at the time when it happened, was one of the key witnesses to the whole case.

Currently, Joshua is in the waiting area of the police station, waiting for the detective on the case to lead him to the interrogation room where he will give his statements. He was just mindlessly scrolling through his phone when a voice snapped him out of it.

“Mr. Hong? Correct?” One of the officers asked him. He nodded to confirm it, repeating his full name. The officer just nodded too, “Okay, please follow me. Detective L/n will be there to ask a few questions.” He turned to the direction of the interrogation room, Joshua trailing behind him quietly.

The officer stopped in front of a door, “Here we are, just head on in.” He said, nodding at him. He walked into the interrogation room, the chilly air making goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin, the thin cardigan he wore did nothing to shield him from the cold. He took a seat at the chair facing the door, poking at the cold metal table as he waited.

“Good Morning Mr. Hong, I’m Detective L/n. I’m here to ask you a few questions, everything said here will be transcribed as evidence for this case, do you consent to this?” You started, taking the seat in front of him, your tone was very professional, as he expected, you didn’t even bother with pleasantries other than introducing yourself, which didn’t bother Joshua. He confirms his consent verbally, politely smiling at you with his hands clasped over the table.

“Great, I’d like to ask a few questions about you first.” You said, taking out your folder for the case, “You’re Joshua Hong, born on the 30th of December, 1995. You own the club downtown where your place of residence is also. Is all of that correct?” Joshua confirms all of the information is correct.

“You can just call me Joshua, by the way, Mr. Hong makes it seem like I’m someone important.” He said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

You just nod, writing something down in your notebook, “What was your relationship with Diana Kamatayan?” You asked, reviewing the official file which states that she is one of Joshua’s ‘clients’.

You were well aware of how the king of Los Amsterdam does his business, favors for favors. That’s how he got this far, and if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain, he’ll take away everything he gave you. You knew asking for Joshua’s help would make this investigation go quicker, but that would mean you’d owe him.

Owing Joshua Hong anything is a dangerous position to be in.

So while you have him in this interrogation room, you’re going to try to milk every bit of information out of him while it’s free.

“Well,” he started, getting comfortable in his seat, “She was one of my clients, I’m sure your file on me already knew that. Other than a professional relationship, I don’t really have one with her. That night was the first time I’ve seen her in a little over a year, actually.”

You nod, the timeline matches up, “And why did you meet her that night?” You ask next, trying to get more out of the nature of this last meeting.

“She approached me while I was in my nightclub. I was just about to turn in for the night when she came up to me to catch up. She thanked me for introducing her to a producer and wanted to catch up.”

Joshua really wasn't giving any information for free, as the interrogation went on you could only collect information you already knew. He didn't reveal any more than a simple google search did.

You drop your file folder onto the table, where Joshua's posture remained calm, cool, collected across from you, the small, charming smile still on his face.

“Did you get what you needed, Detective?” Joshua asks politely, tilting his head with his query.

“All I got was everything we already knew.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders in your seat. You turn in your seat, facing Joshua head-on once more. “Joshua, you are one of the most powerful and influential men in Los Amsterdam. We need your help in solving this case. All our leads have gone cold. We need your connections.”

Joshua smirked, the only time his expression changed from the relaxed and polite smile he had for the rest of the interview. His posture relaxed, leaning forward over the table, he placed his palms down on the cool metal surface, and said, “You do know what that would mean, right? The price you’d have to pay?”

You nodded, “I know all too well.”

“Asking me for a favor would mean that you’d owe me, do you think you can afford to pay that price?” He raised his eyebrows, you’d think your eyes deceive you when his irises glowed a soft gold—tilting his head in an almost teasing manner, taunting you.

Your breath hitched as you looked back at the one-way glass, knowing your co-workers were watching every detail of this interaction. “I promise I’ll deliver what I owe you. Just- please help us.” You said, not being able to look at him directly in the eyes.

He straightens his back once more, his polite smile returning to his face. “It’s settled then, I look forward to working with you Miss.”

Driving through the streets of a somewhat more affluent neighborhood, you stop in front of a well-known party den. There are plenty in Los Amsterdam, but this one was popular because of their ‘free-love’ policy.

Essentially, if you want to fuck, every surface is available to borrow for the duration.

You don’t look forward to entering the den, especially since you don’t know which surfaces are good to touch, but your partner beside you seems to be relaxed and content to visit such a place.

“God, I haven’t seen Jackson in forever. I hope he’s still having the time of his life here.” Joshua said with his bright eye-smile. You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowing in disgust. How could he find a place like this enjoyable? You don’t understand how the minds of party-goers work.

“Okay, how exactly is visiting a party den supposed to help with our investigation?” You finally ask him, he refused to elaborate on how relevant this location was when you met up with hiim, or during the entire car ride to said location.

“Well, Jackson still owes me, and he’s Diane’s ex’s first producer. If there’s anyone with a motive to get her killed, it’s her ex. I asked him to get Johnny drunk enough to pass out in one place. Now you have the perfect stage to corner and investigate him!” He said, with a smile on his face as if his plan didn’t just open up a whole new can of worms for you.

“You do know it’s illegal for me to just interrogate him without a warrant right? He might lawyer up if he figures out we’re onto him.” You said running a hand through your hair.

“Which is why I got you this,” he pulls out a skimpy party dress and matching heels from his duffle bag, “We blend in with the party-goers, that way you’re not interrogating him, you’re just having a conversation.”

“Joshua Hong you are insane.” You said, tone raising, “I’m not walking into a sex den looking like a hooker!”

“Don’t worry, we’re just trying not to stand out, please, just trust me.” He said handing the outfit over to you. You think over his words, it would be wise not to draw too much attention to yourself. If you made it obvious that you were a cop you’d have to resort to improvising.

You were never good at improvising.

Joshua gave you the decency to turn away while you changed, he was already in his usual relaxed suit that already made him look like a pimp, so he was already dressed for the occasion.

You both step out of the car, your heels clacking on the pavement below you. How Joshua managed to find your shoe size is in itself impressive, but you don’t have the time to dwell on that.

You both enter the bustling house filled to the brim with people indulging in their vices, whether it was alcohol, drugs, the ‘free-love’. It was a mess of bodies and fluids that you’d rather not inspect closely.

Joshua expertly weaved through the crowd, parting it like Moses did to the red sea. He didn’t have any difficulty locating Jackson Wang, the host of these parties.

“Jackson!” Joshua called out, the man was sitting in one of the many loveseats, a can of beer in hand and two ladies under his arms, giggling and getting very comfortable with him.

Jackson squints over the flashing lights, eyes widening in recognition after seeing Joshua. “Joshua! My man! Glad you finally made it! Got to say though, that favor of yours was an odd one. But you’ll be able to find him in my room. You know the way.” He waves him off, resuming to talking to the women clinging onto him.

You follow after Joshua, quickly climbing a few sets of stairs to get to the third floor, the entirety of the third floor was just Jackson’s room. He made sure to lock the door behind the both of you when you guys arrived.

The floor was far quieter than the floors below you, and less of a mess than them too. This room felt like Jackson’s actual home, and not like a party den.

Joshua spots Johnny stumbling around the room, nursing a liquor bottle- a few of them.

“Joshua we can’t interrogate him when he’s like this, he can barely even stand!” You said, waving your arms in front of you to point at the inebriated man.

“That’s not a problem, watch this.” Joshua takes long and purposeful strides toward him, once he finally reaches him, he takes his face in his hands and stares directly into his eyes.

You watch in awe and slight confusion, until Joshua speaks up, “You want to tell us everything we want to know, and you will be sober as a priest while you do so.”

Suddenly the haziness in Johnny’s eyes faded in an instant, his brown eyes now have a golden ring around the irises, like a puppet on a string.

“What did you need to know?” Johnny says, no longer under the influence of alcohol.

“Joshua, what did you do to him?” You ask in slight horror.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry about it.” He said, “Continue your questioning on him, detective, if we spend any more time here Jackson’s gonna think we’re having sex here.”

Not wasting any more time you ask Johnny, “Are you aware that Diane Kamatayan had been assassinated? Do you know any information about that?” Johnny squints before his eyes widen in recognition, “Diane, yeah, her, we dated a bit. I was obsessed with her. But she broke it off when she got big. Yeah, I’m pissed, but instead of doing anything healthy with my time I just chose to shit-talk her on Twitter and drown in alcohol. When I heard the news about her passing, I lost it, went straight here where Jackson just kept handing me bottle after bottle with no questions.”

You look at Joshua, raising an eyebrow, not much of a motive if he didn’t even contact her directly in the entire duration of their time as exes.

You shake your head, back to square one then.

“It didn’t help that she started dating the old geezer of a producer of hers.” Johnny said, eyebrows furrowing in frustration, “That whore, she probably got big because that sleaze of a producer gave her banger after banger for sucking his dick or something, tch.” he said, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms.

“I’m pretty sure it was him who killed her too.”

You and Joshua look at each other in shock, eyes meeting for a second, almost as if communicating telepathically.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, cautious around the increasingly irritated Johnny.

“He’s always been a greedy bastard, worked with him before. Wanted to claim all the royalties of my song, so I sued him. Pretty sure he got threatened by how rich Diane was getting for that hit.” Johnny spat, distaste seeping into every word he said, “Now Diane is dead, and the bastard is getting married to some Slavic model, most likely cashing in all those royalty cheques.”

You and Joshua nod at each other. Joshua snaps his fingers, it’s almost as if snipping a puppet off its strings, the glow around Johhny’s eyes dims and disappears, suddenly slumping over the seat, stumbling drunkenly like he did when you found him.

“Okay, we have a lead.”

[yearsbecomingcool]

I have somewhat of any idea for the Seth fic maybe readers in the industry and meets him on his scouting trip like that one scene (how did that girl not melt seeing that hot tech nerd suited up) anyways telling you about his company w subtle flirty banter and later calling so he can show you around possibly leading to other steamy things once seeing your work 🤷‍♀️

idk im trash at putting out ideas so do what you will with this im excited for anything you put out for his characters! -⭐️

we're ending it on the phone | seth warshavsky

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | seth warshavsky x adult film star!f!reader

synopsis | after seth tries to recruit you to join his site you call him back with some questions.

warnings | 18+!! mdni!!! sexual content, adult film star!reader, switch!seth, switch!reader, bisexual!reader, inaccurate depictions of the adult film industry, phone sex, mentions of bdsm, panty play, humiliation, degradation and mutual masturbation.

word count | 4.2k

a/n | if you're thinking about watching pam & tommy, don't!! it was made without pamela's permission and knowledge and is beyond disrespectful to her. it's not worth your time and fred has barely any screentime as seth. seth is also just a massive piece of shit in the show and real life so i'm characterizing him very differently in this fic. if you want to watch fred as seth stick to edits and scene packs! this was going to be longer and include them going to his studio for a tour but it just wasn't coming to me like i was hoping it would so i decided to just cut it after the phone sex so i hope that's alright!! i might do a part 2 because i had an idea for another seth fic anyway.

taglist | @slaytheusurper @samslvrgirl @janis01127 @kawaii1kitten @mvnqvinn

Another day another shoot at some barely decorated mansion in the valley. You had been in the business for a little over the year, skyrocketing to popularity pretty quickly for someone so new. You’d practically done it all to get your start, softcore, hardcore, girl on girl, guy on girl, threesomes, orgies, you’d even done a few fetish films. Whatever it took to pay the bills and get you better paychecks you were down for. Today you were filming something completely boring, you’d seen about a million different versions of this but your agent promised the payout would be great so who were you to argue? You’d be playing some spoiled sorority girl fucking her professor to get a better grade, how innovative…

The production company had rented out a mansion for a couple days, a pair set up in every room for filming to make the most out of the money they’d spent renting it. You were scheduled to film in the study room with another actor you’d worked with before, he was nice and your films always turned out great but you were getting sick of filming with the same people constantly. It didn’t help that your filming schedule had been so packed that you had practically lost any and all time for a life outside of work, you were starting to grow bored of it all, you needed to switch it up for a change. When you got ready that morning you didn’t put in that much effort, leaving your face bare and your hair untouched. You trusted the hair and makeup artists would know better than you. You wore your usually filming day outfit, some comfy loungewear and a pair of slip on vans. The drive to the mansion from your apartment wasn’t awful, you’d definitely had longer and shittier commutes before. 

When you arrived the set was buzzing with activity, like always on these big shoots there were people everywhere. The crew was all over the place, you were directed to the basement where the hair and makeup team was set up to get everyone ready. When you walked in there was already a pair filming a penetration scene on top of a bar. Yours was planned to be more than just penetration, there’d be some spanking, restraints, oral, edging, and of course penetration as well. You made your way to the basement, joining the other actors. You made small talk with your scene partner while the girls got you ready, he was a bit older than you and was pretty much always cast in some sort of dominant role. You’d been cast in a multitude of submissive roles lately, you were a little tired of it. You wanted to make someone else come undone for once. Your eyes were heavily lined and smokey and your lips were slathered in so much gloss you could practically feel it weighing you down. You made your way to wardrobe, being dressed in a cropped t-shirt that had the neckline cut off so it slouched off one shoulder, no bra underneath of course. They’d paired it with the tiniest pair of cut off shorts you’d seen in your life, a hot pink thong poking out the back, the strings pulled up onto your hips. 

They offered you a robe to wear until shooting started but you declined, heading upstairs to go smoke by the pool. As you head up the stairs you see a man, if you can really call him that. He looked college aged and completely out of place in his suit that was a bit too big for him, the arms fit just a bit too long. His blonde hair had been styled nicely, he was trying to look powerful but instead looked like a kid playing in his fathers suit. He looks up at you with a smile, beckoning you over. You glanced around the room, considering if you should, but your curiosity got the best of you and you made your way over to him. He reached out to shake your hand, “I think I’ve seen you before.”

You roll your eyes at his shitty opener, shaking his hand. “If you’re a perv, which you probably are, then I’d assume you have. What are you doing here exactly?”

He eyes you shamelessly, “I’m Seth Warshavsky, I’m here for a few days trying to scout some talent. You seem like you’d be a good fit for what I’m looking for.”

You sigh, “Listen, if you’re trying to get me to switch over to your production company you’ll have to talk to my manager. I’ve been with this one like my whole career, I don’t think they’re gonna be happy if I jump ship now.”

He nods but he’s not really listening. “Just give me a chance to explain. I think you’ll like what I’m offering. You obviously enjoy what you do but aren’t you tired of getting fucked how someone else chooses? Wouldn’t you want a chance to enjoy your shoots more? This would be porn all on your own terms, you pick what you do what, what you wear, how you look. Doesn’t that sound better than all this?” He nods his head in the direction of the pair shooting on the couch, the man is plowing into her at a punishing pace, her moans sound faker than ever. You know she’s not actually enjoying herself.

“What exactly are you proposing here, Seth?” You ask, leaning against the wall. 

He hands you his card, “Internet Entertainment Group. We’re based in Seattle, we run a cam site, the highest quality available. All the other companies trying to get into online porn don’t have a chance against us. You’d make your own schedule, you’d pick what you wanna do for your streams. You’d have all the control. It would just be you, a camera, and the live stream chat. People would pay per minute, pay to request certain things, they’d be able to tip. There’s a lot more money in it than you’d think. Why don’t you give me a call tonight after you’ve had time to think about it, yeah?”

You take his card, stuffing it into your carton of cigarettes. “I’ll think about it…”

“And what was your name? I don’t think I caught it.”

You smirk, “That’s because I didn’t tell you my name. Just call me Vixen.”

He nods, “Alright then, Vixen. I’ll be expecting a call from you later, yeah?”

“If I remember,” you say, walking away to go smoke out back. 

You lounge outside by the pool, sitting on an unoccupied deck chair and smoking with another actress. “Did he ask you to join his little company too? I’ve heard from a few other girls that he’s been making his way all over Cali to try and recruit some girls for his site.” Asks Gigi. You’ve known her since you started, she’s only a few years older than you are and was one of the first bigger names you got to work with.

“Yep. Kind of shitty to come onto our sets where we’re working to recruit, don’t you think?”

She takes a drag from her cigarette, her bubblegum pink lipstick staining it. “Mhm, he’s one of those Silicon Valley tech bros trying to revolutionize whatever industry they can get their hands on. I don’t know why he doesn’t stream himself, he’s cute enough.”

You laugh, “Oh I’d pay to see that. What do you think he’d be like?”

Gigi hums, trying to imagine it. “Hmm…maybe he’d be one of those whiny types. He’s cocky but I doubt he has the stamina to back it up.”

“I do like the whiny ones…there’s no better feeling than pulling a man's hair and hearing him whimper like a little bitch,” you giggle, taking a drag from your cigarette. You watch from the deck chair as he approaches another girl, he’s much shorter than her, it’s quite entertaining to watch him try to sell his idea to women who have no interest in what he’s selling.

“Amen to that…” 

You hate to say it but the longer you film the more you think of Seth's offer, getting paid to masturbate and talk sounds like a dream. Obviously it’s a lot more than just jacking off and yapping but as your scene partner pounds into you pleasurelessly it starts to sound more and more appealing. You can picture it now, dressed up all pretty on a bedroom set, spreading yourself open in front of a camera, taking your time with your pleasure. Teasing yourself for your viewers, letting them think they have control, taking their money while you get yourself off. Okay it’s definitely more appealing than whatever the hell Jack is doing to you right now. You fight the urge to move his hand to your clit, you’d done it before and gotten yelled at for going off script. Your moans get more and more fake as it goes along. By the end of the day you’re sore, sticky, and in desperate need of a shower. 

Once you get home you’re quick to strip off your clothes and jump into the shower, you spend your time getting yourself clean, letting the warm water wash over you as you massage the muscles in your arms. You make a mental note to go to a massage parlor sometime this week, it’s been too long since you’ve been and you know you’re gonna feel like shit in the morning. Once you get into bed you start to think of Seth’s offer again, you grab your purse off your nightstand and dig your carton of cigarettes out of the bag. You pull the business card out of where you’d stashed it earlier and flip it around to look at the number. You chew at your lower lip trying to decide if you should call, you tap your manicured nails against the phone sitting on your nightstand before muttering, “Fuck it…” and dialing the number. 

You nervously play with the phone cord as you hear it ring, it goes on for a while and you consider just hanging up but finally he picks up. “Hello?” His voice is raspier than normal, you glance at the clock. Shit, it’s 1am, you probably woke him up.

“Hey it’s-” you almost say your real name, “Vixen…we uh, we met earlier today at that shoot in the Valley.”

He chuckles, carding his fingers through his hair. “I remember you, I didn’t expect you to call if I’m being honest.” You can hear the TV playing faintly in the background. He picks up the remote to pause the VHS he was playing.

“Yeah? You didn’t think you sold me on it?” You tease, laying back against your pillows, making yourself comfortable. Something about his voice is starting to make you want to dip your hand between your thighs, he could read the dictionary aloud and it would still get you squirming.

“If you want me to be honest I really didn’t, you seemed pretty set on staying with your job. How was that shoot, by the way? You looked nice…” He glances up at his TV, he had gone to a video store by his hotel and rented a few of your films. Your latest film, ‘Sorority Sluts II’, sits paused on the screen. You’re tied up on the screen, a panty gag stuffed hastily into your mouth. Your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure as another woman presses a wand to your clit. He has to admit you’re his favorite he’s watched so far, your moans could be enough to make him come. 

“Do you want the truth? I mean, have you worked in the industry outside of your little cam site?” You ask, thinking back on your shoot from earlier.

“I worked as a production assistant for a bit but besides that it’s really just been cams…so why don’t you give me a little scoop into the reality of being a big time pornstar…” He jokes.

His laugh makes your cheeks heat up, he sounds cute when he laughs. “When I first started I never would’ve thought I’d say this but it was so goddamn boring…I used to enjoy it but after a certain point it all got monotonous I guess. They really want us to stick to the script so there’s not a lot of room for real pleasure, y’know?”

“So you are faking it on these tapes?”

Your face scrunches up in confusion, “Are you watching my work? I’m flattered that I looked so hot when you saw me today you just had to go out and buy all my tapes…”

He scoffs, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, babe. I actually rented them. I just wanted to get more…familiar with your work just in case you called.” The lotion and tissues sitting on the nightstand begs to differ.

“Yeah, so what do you think, am I any good?”

He rolls his eyes, “Are you kidding me? You’re a fucking star. If you come to work for me I really think you could make more than you are right now, you’d have more fun too. I bet you sound so pretty when it’s real, people are over the scripted shit, they want to see something real. Why do you think sex tapes are getting so popular now?”

“You have a lot of good points…I really have to talk to my manager about this though. I have a contract and everything too…” you sigh.

“But you want to do it? Is that what I’m hearing?” You can practically hear his smile through the phone. His eyes flick back to you on his screen and he licks his lips.

“Yeah, I am. It sounds nice, it sounds better than what I’m doing now.”

“It will be, I promise. Every girl who’s switched over is making way more now.”

You look up at the ceiling, wetting your lips with your tongue. “Which film of mine were you watching when I called?” You ask curiously, starting to spread your legs. You start to trail your hand between your thighs as you wait to hear what he says.

“‘Sorority Sluts II’. You play a lot of sorority girls huh?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the studio decided I just fit the look I guess…what do you think of it?”

His eyes widen, he can tell what you’re really trying to ask. “The way these girls are hazing you is pretty hot. This seems like it would’ve been a fun shoot…how many of these moans were fake?”

You think back to when you filmed it, “Not many are fake in that one actually. The humiliation films are always able to get me off so easily. I mean can you really blame me? All these pretty girls pinning me down and making fun of me, stripping me down, getting me off…that shoot was a fucking dream…”

“So should I be looking to see if any of the girls would want to stream with you then?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Are you taking notes right now, you fuckin’ nerd?”

“No! I just-” You cut him off.

“Turn off the business part of your brain for like five minutes…you have a nice voice, like really fucking nice. Like I would get off to you reading the dictionary nice…I…what are you wearing right now, Seth?” You haven’t felt this nervous since you were a teenager trying to not get caught having phone sex with your first girlfriend. 

He chuckles, laying back and “Are you trying to have phone sex with me right now?”

“Yeah…do you…do you not want to have phone sex with me?” You sound pathetic. 

He laughs, “I do, I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“So…what are you wearing Seth?”

He sighs playfully, “That’s really the line you’re going with here? You’re a pornstar and that’s the best you can give me? C’mon babe, you can do better than that.”

“Okay to be fair I didn’t write any pornos, I just starred in them okay!” You say defensively.

“Fine…I’m wearing,” Seth looks down at his outfit, “A white t-shirt and some black boxer briefs. What about you, babe?”

“I’m wearing a white tank top and some white panties with a cherry print on them.”

He chuckles, “Cherries huh? Cute.” He tries to picture you laying in bed wearing them.

You chew nervously at your lower lip, “Did you get hard watching my films?”

“How could I not? You looked fucking amazing…you look so good tied up and writhing under their touch. The way you’re just helpless and at their mercy…god…” He can’t help but reach down and squeeze himself through his underwear. His eyes flicker over to the screen, your face scrunched up in ecstasy.

“You wanna tie me up, Seth? Use a vibrator on me, or maybe eat me out? You seem good with your mouth, you think you could make me come undone for you?” You ask, your hand trailing down to your panties. You play with the frills that line the waistband.

“Of course I could, I’d have you writhing in seconds,” he says cockily.

“You sound so confident,” you giggle. 

“I have the proof to back it up…do you wanna start touching yourself for me?”

“Mhm, where should I start?” You feel nervous, as if you’re a teenager again.

“Start by playing with your tits over your tank top, play with your nipples too. Get them hard for me, close your eyes and pretend it’s me doing it,” he instructs. 

You use your shoulder to keep the phone in place as you trail your hands down to your breasts, you close your eyes and knead at your flesh, whining softly into the phone. Seth smiles when he hears you, “So fucking pretty…” 

You roll your nipple between your thumb and forefinger, whimpering his name as you squirm under your own touch. Seth teases himself over his underwear as he listens to you whine and squirm, “If I was there with you I’d mark up those perfect tits, make sure the next time someone saw you undressed they knew who had you last. You going to set with my marks all over you…I wouldn’t start with your tits though, I’d pull you into my lap to straddle me first. I’d kiss you, soft at first, get you nice and comfortable before I pull you closer by your hair. I bet you’d whimper like a little bitch, wouldn’t you? I’ve seen how you take pain, it’d be so pathetic. I’d kiss down your neck, mark you up there too, leave marks in places not even a turtleneck could hide. Then I’d move onto your tits, I’d be rough just to keep those sad little whimpers going. Biting at your sensitive tits, pulling and twisting at your nipples, god I bet it’d get you wet so quick. You’d like it, wouldn’t you?”

You whine at his words, nodding as if he can see you. “I’m already wet just from imagining it…I’d be a fucking mess in your lap. If you think I’m whiny now just wait till you get me in your lap for real. I’m not like I am in my films y’know, in real life I get so much more pathetic, much more squirmy. You’d probably like that, huh?”

“‘Course I would, a pretty girl whining and squirming in my lap is like my perfect wet dream.” He chuckles. He reaches over to the nightstand and pumps some lotion into his hand. He ducks his hand beneath his waistband, wrapping his hand around his cock. “Touch yourself for me, do it over your panties. Y’know what, grab the waistband for me and tug those pretty little things up your cunt. Make it tight for me, hold it in place and play with your clit over your panties.” 

“You want me to give myself a wedgie?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, it’s an odd request.

“Don’t think of it like that, just try it for me, yeah? It’ll feel good, trust me.”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you reach down, curling your fingers around the frilly waistband of your panties. You sigh, embarrassment filling your chest as you slowly pull up the waistband. The cotton fabric pulls taut against your cunt creating a friction you would’ve never imagined could be so pleasurable. You whine as you hook your fingers into the leg holes, tugging it up, starting to feel it push your lips apart. “Seth…I can’t believe you’re making me do this, it’s so embarrassing…” You whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily as you pull harder. The fabric presses against your clit making every move even more pleasurable. 

“If it’s so embarrassing why are you doing it and whimpering like it gets you off, hm? Keep pulling for me, be a good girl. Make it tight. Pull till you can’t take it anymore.” 

You whimper as you tug the fabric between your lips, holding it tight against your cunt. It’s biting into you painfully but despite that you’re soaking the fabric. You can feel your cunt pulse around it, clenching at the fabric. “I-I think it’s tight enough…”

He smiles, pumping his cock at a teasingly slow pace. “Play with your clit for me, soak those panties like the good girl I know you are.” 

You start to rub your clit over the taut fabric, the added friction from your panties makes you whine even louder into the phone. You grind your hips against your hand, “Stop teasing and let me play with myself properly.” 

“Hm…why should I?” He teases.

“I gave myself a fucking wedgie for you, don’t be a dick!” You groan in frustration.

“Fine…go on, you can touch yourself.”

You slowly pull your panties back down, the crotch soaked with your juices. You wince at the unexpected burn as you pull your panties out of your most sensitive area. You slowly insert two fingers inside of yourself, using your thumb to play with your clit. You’re mumbling into the phone, “Seth, you gonna let me come tonight? Gonna get off to my moans again? How many of my tapes did you jack off too tonight, hm?”

He starts to pump his cock at a faster pace, “Fuck…four? I think, yeah, four. I haven’t finished the one that's on right now.”

An idea pops into your head and you smile at the thought, “You wanna finish that tape while you’re on the phone with me? Wanna tell me what’s happening in it?”

“Yes ma’am…” He presses play on the remote, the tape starting up again. He starts narrating the tape to you, “You’re tied up, a blonde woman is pressing the hitachi wand to your clit. You’re moaning like a pathetic little bitch, writhing around, trying to escape the sensation. God you’re fucking helpless to it, poor baby can’t help but enjoy it.” His pupils are blown as he jacks off. Your movements speed up as well, imagining he’s the one doing it to you. 

“I sound pathetic, yeah? Do I sound like this?” You start to imitate your moans and whimpers from your tapes. That really gets him going, he squeezes his hand around his cock.

“If you do this I won’t last much longer,” he whines.

“Good,” you laugh breathily. 

“You gonna sound this pretty on stream, baby?”

You roll your eyes, “What’d I say about business talk, hm?”

“Sorry…sorry…just imagining you all dolled up teasing your viewers. Bet you’d use toys and tease yourself for ‘em…pretty girl edging herself for her audience…” He trails off, imagining your future streams.

“I’m gonna be your favorite, hm? Gonna spend your days jackin’ off to me ‘stead of doing work, aren’t you? Fuckin’ pervert…bet you like me talking mean like this, don’t you? Admit it, Seth. Tell me how much you like it, you fucking perv.”

Your words go straight to his cock and he can feel himself getting closer, “Of course you’re gonna be my favorite…prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever seen, might have to pay you for a private stream sometime…” He’s practically fucking his hand at this point. The two of you are a mess of  moans and whines, his narration of the tape quickly stopping as he feels himself getting closer. 

“Gonna come…let me come, please…” You mumble. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, you need release more than you need air. 

“You can come baby…come whenever you need, such a good girl, already earned it,” he mutters, hips bucking up against his hand. 

It doesn’t take much longer for the both of you to come, he’s first, your name mixed in with a few swears spilling from his lips. The same comes from you only seconds later, curling into yourself as you work yourself through your orgasm. The only sound coming from the phones is the two of you trying to catch your breath.

“Are you gonna come see the studio?” He asks, his voice softer now.

“Mhm…gonna talk with my manager ‘bout it, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good girl…thank you for calling, I had a nice time with you,” he says shyly.

You can’t help but smile at how soft his voice got, “So did I…I’ll call you again sometime, promise.” You hang up before he can get another word in. You look up at the ceiling, “What the hell did I just do?”

[galedekarios]

minsc & gale

recently i've been doing a playthrough taking minsc along during the limited amount of time we do get to connect with his character in the game and i have to say he's growing on me in a way he didn't in previous titles.

i wanted to take the opportunity here to write a short post about his relationship with gale because that, too, is something i found myself enjoying despite the (too) few interactions that we have between them.

minsc's initial thoughts about gale

Player: How are you and Gale getting along? Minsc: I do not wish to speak of the wizard. Minsc: I could not have said it better myself. - Player Option 1: Gale's great - what's your problem with him? Minsc: He came to me one night with a little book of mischief - full of words and their meanings. Minsc: 'Posterior', he says. 'Can you say 'posterior'?' I refused! Minsc does not need to know the language of wizards. Player: 'Posterior' isn't wizard-talk - it's another word for 'butt'. Minsc: It is an inferior word. Far too long to use in a battle cry, which is where a 'butt' belongs. Minsc: Gale would do better to educate himself in the ways of sword and steel than to throw these pointy words at Minsc. Minsc: Ai, yes. Gale also owns a cat. A cat with wings! That is most unnerving for poor Boo. Player: You should give him a break - he's only trying to help. Minsc: Never! If he is not careful, Boo will shred his books and use them as bedding! - Player Option 2: Did you know that he has an explosive magical orb in his chest that could destroy a city? Minsc: WHAT? Minsc: That is a thousand times more interesting than anything that has ever been written in a book. Minsc: GALE! MY GOOD FRIEND! WHERE ARE YOU? MINSC AND BOO WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT THE EXPLODING.

they may not start off on the right foot, but with gale's genuine interest in other people's cultures as well as his perception and easy-going nature that changes:

sorcerous sundries

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves of Sorcerous Sundries Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! devnote: Revealing that his objection of Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a deep philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes at their things Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. devnote: Reassuring Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. devnote: Warm, comradely, would genuinely be doing Gale a favour

i feel like it truly speaks to gale's character that he doesn't dismiss minsc here - neither his feelings of inadequacy nor his innate curiosity about the things he perceives as wizardly.

it would've been very easy for gale - the wizard prodigy, the former chosen, to archwizard - to act the part of the haughty scholar, akin to the arrogant wizards that minsc describes in this banter, looking down on him, shouting at him, but gale doesn't.

gale reassures minsc, encourages him, telling him he'll fit right in. it reminds me of the way he treats karlach and fostering her interest in books and reading. another pair of seemingly polar opposites that still find a connection. i do think gale is quite natural at this, despite his long time spent in isolation.

and minsc does appreciate it - his tone changes to one of warmth, one of camaraderie - and i think this is also when minsc's perception of gale changes: from the annoying wizard to someone he sees as a companion and friend.

rashemi traditions

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face. Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort. devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc's origins Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashemen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp? Gale: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. I'm not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. devnote: Very politely declining

i like this banter for several reasons: i think not only does it show the progression of their relationship with minsc offering to show gale the traditions of his homeland, gale also shows the same curiosity he shows many different cultures and ways of life, same as he does with lae'zel for instance and githyanki culture.

when he declines minsc's offer, he does so politely, without insulting minsc's traditions, putting the onus on himself instead. he's the wizard, not the warrior.

house of hope

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon? Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? devnote: In teacher-mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill... -ical. devnote: Non-plussed, echoing Gale's ending every word with 'ical' Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. devnote: Disappointed

this banter genuinely made me laugh. again, i like how it shows the progression of their friendship, to the point of where minsc goes from finding gale annoying to imitating his speech. and gale doesn't put it beyond minsc to have an 'in-depth, intellectual' discussion... even if he is disappointed by the end of their banter, realising that minsc's priorities are... elsewhere.

wychlaran

depending on your party composition and who you take with you, minsc can also call gale his wychlaran.

The Wychlaran, meaning "wise old women" in the ancient language of Halardrim, also known as the Witches of Rashemen outside their lands, were the spiritual leaders of Rashemen, communing with the spirits and guiding the souls of the Rashemi people.

minsc does use it, too, to describe a special bond and a sense of duty and protectiveness to the people he ascribes this title to. he did so in bg1 with dynaheir and in bg2 with aerie.

elminster

Minsc: It must be difficult for Gale to imagine great Elminster a-courting. Writing poems. Doing... certain... deeds. Gale: Long before my time, thank goodness. That's not an image I care to dwell on. Minsc: Ugh. It is difficult for Minsc to think of, too. Let us speak no more of it. Minsc: ... Minsc: Of Elminster and the sex, I mean.

another banter that did genuinely make me laugh despite the seriousness of the situation, especially given the bond that elminster and gale share as well, which speaks of paternal feelings on elminster's part that come with a certain sense of responsibility, as well as gale's admiration, but also often exasperation with his former mentor.

on a more serious note, minsc offers great insights in his interactions with gale and gale's story:

mystra and the vremyonni

The vremyonni or Old Ones were an arcane brotherhood in Rashemen. Men that were arcane spellcasters in Rashemen had two choices, exile or to join the vremyonni. Many vremyonni were kept alive for eons by longevity magic. Vremyonni were expert weaponsmiths and magic item creators. On very rare occasions, vremyonni would fight in the defense of Rashemen. Vremyonni used secrets of magic that even the Witches of Rashemen did not use, destructive spells forbidden among the wilds of Rashemen, in case such magic was needed. The Running Rocks harbored secret strongholds of the vremyonni. All vremyonni wore masks.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of the vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rashemen. Minsc: While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. Minsc: It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Minsc: Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm? Minsc: Though this suggests that Mystra has never tempted a witch into foolishness. Not that I would blaspheme by suggesting otherwise. Minsc: I forget why I began this long and winding story. Yes Boo - we have been spending too long around the wizard.

i think this is a very interesting banter, especially since it's also only marked to trigger if gale agrees to return the crown to mystra.

it's easy to dismiss this banter, laugh it off as just another instance of minsc being minsc, but i think it's important to consider it within the context of game canon and what has been shown to us.

it's a story and everything within a story is there for a reason.

another great insight from minsc comes if gale is pushed towards the crown by the player:

gale and godhood

Minsc: Who among us has not been spurned by a lover? But a word of advice, if Minsc may be so bold: Minsc: Let the wizard lick his wounds. Write some rickety rhymes, and weep most manfully into his hamster's hide. Eh - his cat's hide. Minsc: But... his boasting is unbecoming. 'Claim godhood', he says? Will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

again, minsc does at times share great insight into other characters and he does so here again with gale:

will this make him any less a man with a half-mended heart?

i think it quite accurately goes straight to the crux of what makes it so very easy to push gale towards godhood: he is hurt. he feels abandoned. by his goddess. by his former lover. both as a mystran and on deeply personal level.

he is drifting, seeking something to hold his head above the water. if it's not the protag's love or friendship, it will be the crown.

anyhow, i never expected to write this when i first learned that minsc would be a companion, but i truly did enjoy him and his interactions with gale in particular.

[geospiral]

Hyuna is such a great character, and her complex feelings and perspective of the world that comes with her deep empathy for humanity is so interesting to think about.

While Alien Stage is about the perseverance of love in a broken world where mankind no longer has the language, traditions, or moral understanding of right and wrong to help them express their feelings, it stands out to me how Hyuna’s story is mainly centered around the love of humanity as a whole instead of being primarily centered around one other individual in the main cast (two in Till's case). This isn’t to say that other characters don't have this kind of love; it’s just that we are shown Hyuna being a part of a larger community beyond Anakt, and her interactions with other characters tend to go far beyond that of our leads (even when Mizi is in the rebellion, we mostly see her with just Hyuna).

And when she is with her respective pair, Luka, her brother Hyun Woo, or his presence, is usually right alongside them.

Hyuna is not a vengeful person. Of course she hates the Segyein for what they’ve done to mankind, but her focus is on the people. She leads the rebellion because she loves what she's fighting for and wants a better future for humanity.

It’s a crucial part of Hyuna’s character that her love always comes before any hate or resentment she may hold, even when it’s justified, which is why her relationship with Luka is so important when it comes to highlighting her complexity, because Luka is not a Segyein; he is a human just like her, her brother, and all others she has encountered in her life. He is oppressed under the same system that she is and has faced horrific abuse of all kinds under his guardian. The two of them were close and she loves him, but he is also responsible for causing some of the most painful moments in her life.

After her brother’s death, Hyuna’s world was shattered, in part because Hyun Woo was one of the most important people in her life, with this possibly being the first time she had ever been confronted with death, but also because, despite being an accident, Luka was the one that caused it. She could ignore and push aside her discomfort with some of his more egregious behavior before, but not here. His lack of reaction to Hyun Woo’s death compared to that of her presence made it clear to her how deeply unhealthy his infatuation with her truly is, and it hurt to see how he seemingly did not care about his actions despite him and her brother being friends.

Hyuna grew up to understand mankind’s faults, that people can be incredibly selfish and are capable of horrific cruelty, but instead of becoming jaded, her appreciation for humanity grew alongside her, because she knows that people can learn, choose how they act, and grow and change to become better.

Her optimism doesn't come from a place of naivety but of hope. “Recreating the extinct concept of love was by no means an easy task for her either.” Hyuna exists in a world where the Segyein have stolen everything from them, including what they know to be right and wrong. By all means, Hyuna should hate Luka; she wants to hate Luka, but she can’t. She understands that Luka is a byproduct of his environment, and while that will never excuse his actions, she knows that he genuinely didn’t understand he was hurting her because he was just copying what the Segyein had done to him and what he came to think was affection.

Hyuna can never forgive Luka, and she shouldn’t have to, but what she does want is for him to change and grow outside of the Segyein’s influence, just like she does for all other humans, to understand that what he has done is wrong and why it was wrong, because despite everything, she still loves him. Hyuna is a character that will forever be defined by her overwhelming love for others, even when she doesn’t want to be.

[hisunshiine]

Seven Days Masterlist | JJK | complete

🗓️ pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️ au/genre: non-idol au, brother's friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️ series rating: M 🗓️ total wc: 34,413 🗓️ series warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, biological clock ticking woes, angsty argument, feeling like being emotionally cheated on despite being single, parents with toxic viewpoints, judgemental people, self doubt, explicit sexual content: each chapter will provide specifics, but in general, there will be sex in every part, each one showcasing jungkook and reader in various types of sexual situations including sleepy sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), light bondage sex, quickie sex with one partner not breaking off another night, drunk sex (dubious consent but neither feels taken advantage of), make up sex, and semi-public sex.    🗓️ an: please, please, please, blame @colormepurplex2 for this. It was not something I planned to do, but she talked me into it (she did not have to try hard, let’s be honest) and she is 100% right. This story needed to be told. Leah also helped me create the banners, so if you like them, it’s because of her creative input!  @downbad4yoongi also deserves blame now, but in the best way, for helping to expand the characters depth, and @heathfritillary-blog for her writing knowledge helping me find the motivators and reasons for the characters, challenging me to be a better writer. @mrsparkjimin18, @peachiilovesot7, and @abitjess, thank you for all that you do, hyping me up and helping me to piece together this story! 🗓️ an 2: reader being a teacher plays no real role in the story other than to help link the characters, it is summer break, so school is not in session! 🗓️ series summary: “Leave you with that afterglow, show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your younger brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed. Forced to confront the growing feelings as the pressure to meet adult milestones like your friends grow stronger, you struggle to be honest with yourself. “What you waiting for, better come and hit ya goals.”

Monday - wind it back, i’ll take it slow

wc: 1,741 summary: “Wind it back, I’ll take it slow, Leave you with that afterglow…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed… 

posted: Monday 7-24-23 @ 9 am

Tuesday - “lemme swallow your pride”

wc: 3,629 summary: “Open up say ahhh, Come here, baby, let me swallow your pride…” Jungkook comes over for an impromptu movie night that triggers some internal angst. You share a little, and he shares a lot... and your angst turns a little green. To change the topic when it gets a little too deep, you deepthroat him.

posted: Tuesday 8-1-2023 @ 12 am

Wednesday - “it’s the way that you can ride”

wc: 4,622 summary: “It’s the way that you can ride, it’s the way that you can ride…” Picking an outfit for a wedding is hard enough without your friends with benefits turning you on. Especially when he makes a tie look so sexy, you can’t help but use it to get him right where you need him to be. Ties make great reigns, and Jungkook is willing for you to be the leading lady, in more ways than one.

posted: Wednesday 8-2-2023 @ 12 am

Thursday - “so break me off another night”

wc: 3,596 + text messages summary: “So break me off another night” might be what he says, but after a day full of meddling parents, a quickie, and meddling friends, some things come to light, and there might not be another night for you to break him off...

posted: Thirstday 8-10-2023 @ 12 am

Friday - “i must be favored to know ya”

wc: 5,665 + text messages summary: “I must be favored to know ya.” Having Jungkook in your life is so much sweeter than you ever thought. It would be great if you could just tell him, but showing him is as good as it gets for now…until you slip up and let the cat out of the bag. But it turns out, you aren’t the only one who has feelings for him, and you definitely aren’t the only one who wants to ride him. When your biggest fears come to light, knowing Jungkook the way that you do might become a thing of the past. 

posted: Friday 8-18-2023 @ 12 pm

Saturday - “i kiss your waist and ease your mind”

wc: 6,323 + text message summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.  

posted: Monday 9-4-2023 @ 10:57 am

Sunday - “i'll be loving you right, seven days a week”

wc: 8,837 + text message summary: “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week.” Yoongi's wedding has brought up a lot of feelings, but with so many things left unsaid, it's hard to know where you and Jungkook stand. Can the two of you wrap around each other and bring life to a relationship?

posted: Sunday 10-8-2023 @ 10:01 pm

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Alright, everyone. This is the last time you'll see baby Aemond and the reader, so let's cherish it. In the next chapter, we will start where the show did with the characters aged up in Ep. 8. I'm very excited to write for adult MC. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit worried about writing Aemond's inner dialogue, as I've never written for a male character who isn't obsessed with the reader, but I'm sure I'll do fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Alicent being delulu, parentified sibling trauma, and watch me make you feel even worse about Driftmark.

As you journeyed from the gloomy corridors of the Red Keep to the sulfuric atmosphere of Dragonstone and now to the sandy shores and scattered shells of Driftmark, an air of sadness seemed to cling to you wherever you went. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the tranquil sea, overlooking the stone coffin that cradled your late Aunt Laena. Two deaths, each carrying its weight of sorrow, yet only one mourned.

You wondered what it would be like to die choked in flames like Ser Harwin and Lyonel Strong did. Would it be the same as suffering dragon fire like your Aunt? Most likely not. Hers was a swift burning of flesh from bones, while theirs was hours of agony and suffocation. 

Despite what your family claimed, the idea of dying to your own dragon’s flames wasn’t an appealing end to you. It didn’t seem noble like how stories explained it to be. It was horrifying to have your skin torched from your body, to feel the power of a thousand suns on your flesh. It would be excruciatingly painful, and you wished it upon no one, not even those you despised most. You would much rather meet the Stranger in your sleep. 

You barely settled into your new home on Dragonstone before your mother received the two ravens. One bringing news of Ser Harwin and the other of Laena, containing death in the ink. You consoled your mother and father as best you could, hugging and kissing and telling them that you loved them and were sorry. It was an impossible task to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing them so distraught and wanted to make them feel better. 

At night, you cried into your pillows in your now isolated bedroom until Jace and Luke entered, watery eyes matching yours. As the eldest, it was your job to hold your family together when your parents couldn’t, and it left you no time to properly grieve the loss of an Aunt and a father figure.

You felt terrible for your cousins Baela and Rhaena. To go to bed one night and wake up the next without a mother was a depth of grief you couldn’t imagine. You didn’t think you could live a life without your mother; you would die with her, and the ability of your cousins to continue without her was admirable as you observed their sullen faces streaked with tears. 

Your Great Uncle Vaemond spoke his sermon in High Valyrian, which was too fast and practiced for you to understand. You could decipher some words here and there, but ultimately, you were lost listening to a man you rarely met. You felt your mother straighten her stance from behind, her arms coming to circle the three of you in a protective embrace.

Vaemond’s eyes were on yours, Luke’s, and Jace’s, but everyone else was focused on him—on the coffin with Lady Laena’s face carved into it.

As your eyes wandered to the other people surrounding the funeral procession, fear struck you as you caught your eldest uncle’s eye. It wasn’t very comforting to see Aegon so soon. You had set it in your mind that you wouldn’t have to see him for many years, and yet, here you were, dressed in an obsidian and red-sleeved gown, pearls adorning the collar and your veiled headpiece. Quickly, you turned away, instinctually taking Jace’s hand in yours.

An air of stiffness surrounded your family that you weren’t blind to. It was always there, but now, more than before, you felt it. You thought it was childish to be so locked into familial drama when someone lay dead inside a casket. Though you didn’t remember much of the times you met your Aunt Laena, she still deserved the respect of putting these grievances aside. You knew you were part of it, but more important things were happening than what you suffered. 

The cries of your father sent waves of sadness into your heart, and with the sudden urge to get him to stop, you left the safety of your brother and clung to your father’s waist. He lifted you into his sea-worn arms and clung to your frail body as if it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into his grief. You rested your temple onto his shoulder, tears of empathy falling from your eyes as he pressed your head closer. 

Afraid of what would become of your father if you let go, you allowed him to crush you in his embrace for as long as he needed it as a scornful laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. You peeked from your position to see Great Uncle Daemon chuckling to himself with a shake of his head at what Vaemond said. You felt annoyance bubble inside you, solidifying your distaste for the man as the Velaryon guards clad in silver armor and blue seahorse sigils lifted the ropes and lowered your Aunt into the roaring sea. 

You didn’t leave your father’s side for the remainder of the day, not even when he slowly lowered himself into the sea with his sister as the cold, salty breeze swept through the evening. You wanted to speak with Aemond, if just for a small moment, but your family came first. They always came before anyone else, a fact that your mother instilled into the very fabric of your being.

Sitting atop one of the rock ledges near your father, you dipped your feet into the saltwater, dragging your toes to watch the water ripple and allow time to pass. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone. The image of him falling into the ocean as your Aunt played repeatedly in your mind’s eye. You were afraid in his grief, he would follow her. Only when your father’s squire, Ser Qarl, took your father from his place with his sister did you leave, joining the rest of the goers for the wake late in the evening.

Searching through the crowd of people for your mother and your brothers, you couldn’t find them. Alone with none of your family for protection, you felt fear pull at your chest. Your hands began to scratch at your arms and scalp, attempting to quell the insatiable itch. The fabric prevented you from doing so, and tears of fright soon began to collect at your lashes. 

From across the balcony, you saw a flash of green, a color that had never offered you comfort until now. Yet as quickly as you saw it, it vanished, leaving only a head of white promptly running down the stairs. You felt your heart drop into your feet as you watched Aemond run across the sandy dunes like he was running from you. 

The call of a dragon you never heard before screeched through the gray skies. It was mournful as if it were calling for a lost pet or child. In this case, it was a rider. As you looked up, you could see the vast shadow of Vhagar’s silhouette soaring through the clouds, flying in the same direction your uncle went. You felt your eyes grow wide with worry at the realization, wanting to chase after Aemond and warn him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” a tender, feminine voice came from behind you as you jolted in surprise. The tall figure of Queen Alicent stood before you, curly auburn hair pinned back into a magnificent updo and clad in her usual green and gold as she put a hand on your back. “Your mother already sent your brothers.” 

“Where is she?” you hastily asked. Aemond was no longer on your mind.

“I’m uncertain. Your father is off drowning his sorrow in his cups with his squire,” she answered in the same velvet voice you remembered her having, bitterness you didn’t understand laced in the undertone.

You felt offended by how the Queen spoke about your father. He was grieving. He was allowed to spend time with whomever he wished, doing what he wanted.

Alicent lifted her arm, wrapping it around your petite frame, and led you inside Hightide. It was not as cold or formidable as Dragonstone; its dark magic melted into the walls, yet it didn’t hold the warmth of the Red Keep. Still, you felt unwelcomed here, either by the place or its people. The pale stone walls were filled with bits and pieces of shells from clams, mollusks, and other long-dead shell creatures mixed into the mortar to make it stand the test of salty air. 

The Hall of the Nine, where you passed as Queen Alicent, led you to the guest chambers, where you held the Driftwood throne where your grandfather Corlys reigned. You recalled when you visited this place many years ago and how he went on about the many treasures from his sieges and conquests that decorated the room in all its glory. He and his wife, Rhaenys, sat in a heated discussion in front of the hearth.

Once you reached the door to your shared bed chambers with your brothers, Alicent turned to you. It was the first time you had seen her since what Aegon had done to you, and you felt tension. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, to say everything that had been bottled up since the revelation of her son’s transgressions, but she was unable to do so as tears choked her. Instead, the only words that came out were those she couldn’t say to her children. 

“I hope you can find the time to visit the Keep. Helaena asked when you would be returning, and it broke my heart to tell her you wouldn’t be,” she confided, stroking the thin black fabric covering your dark hair. “Aemond has turned inwards since you left, and Aegon has become crueler to him. It makes me wonder if he’s always been this way and that my love for him has blinded me from his transgressions.” 

You said nothing. The mention of Aegon’s name still felt like a blow to the stomach. “I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive my son for what he did to you and that we may yet be the family we were always meant to be.” Your tongue felt like lead as your breathing began to race, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as Alicent kneeled before you, a sad smile on her supple lips as she tenderly swiped your tear-stained cheeks with her smooth thumbs. 

“I love you, my shining light, my dream.” 

Leaning in, she took your small frame by your shoulders, kissing your forehead as one would do to their babe. You felt sick, nausea churning in your stomach as you quickly opened the bedroom door, hastily shutting it behind you in fright. 

It was all too much—Lady Laena’s death, Ser Harwin’s, seeing your father in shambles, and Queen Alicent’s steadfast belief that you should become a part of her family no matter what happened to you. The Queen desired to wed you and Aegon despite the horrors he committed. The realization that she genuinely didn’t see what your eldest uncle did to you as something that would permanently bar you from joining the union pierced your heart. You would much rather marry Aemond or Helaena, but having no ties to her seemed better.

Your brothers peered at you curiously from their beds as you clutched your chest, looking as if you ran the entire way here. They didn’t ask any questions, and you didn’t move to speak, loosening the ties of your gown and shrugging it off until you were only in your smock. You didn’t feel like changing into your nightdress in front of your brothers, deciding to climb into bed and shove your face into the pillows, refusing to cry in front of Jace and Luke as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Aemond learned of Lady Laena’s death, he knew it was a sign from the Gods that his time had come. The Seven had deemed this the moment to prove himself to everyone who doubted him and thought him useless without a dragon. 

Vhagar. 

The largest, oldest, and strongest dragon in the world was riderless. 

Aemond believed that once he gained the only thing he lacked, life would finally be what it should have been. He would make his father proud, shove all the taunts and jests from Aegon and his nephews back into their faces, and finally become a man you deemed worthy—your Mors Martell. 

As Aemond fled from the wake when the candles had long melted, he thought only of the ichor coursing through his veins. Dusk was upon the island, and the night’s wind blew harshly, strands of his silver-blonde hair covering his face as he climbed over the dunes. Vhagar was further from the castle than he initially thought.

“Fuck.” Aemond released a sigh of exasperation and scrambled across the uneven ground. 

When he came upon the dragon, he was in awe. Vhagar was as frightening as she was enormous—a giant, green-scaled, moving mountain that shook the ground and blew sand with every movement and breath from her powerful lungs. 

Taking advantage of Vhagar’s resting state, Aemond crept along the sparse grass, feeling each gust of air she created with her wide nostrils, blowing the sand into his face and ears. Anxiety was present in his gut, feeling a slight tremble in his limbs as he closed the distance, wrapping his hand around one of the many ropes draped across Vhagar’s scales. Suddenly, he felt the ground underneath him quake, and the head of the dragon lifted with a low rumble.

Vhagar observed Aemond with tired yet calculating amber orbs, double eyelids blinking. She grumbled as she bore her teeth to him. They were the size of a fully grown adult, sending a shiver down his spine. As if it were an act of divine intervention, Vhagar laid her enormous head back down, seeming disinterested in the young boy before her. 

If Lady Laena’s death wasn’t proof enough Aemond was fated by the Gods to claim a dragon, the most powerful beast in the world, laying its head in acquiescence certainly was. Blinded by his small victory, nerves still in his mind, he reached for the rope ladder again, only for Vhagar to raise her head and growl, low and deep. A snarl formed on her great maw as Aemond stumbled back in shock and saw the light of orange flames gather at the back of her throat. 

“Dohaerās!” (Serve!) he shouted instinctively, recalling the many lessons he observed in the Dragonpit as he felt the heat of fire on his countenance. “Dohaerās, Vagus! Lykirī!” (Serve, Vhagar! Be calm!)

With Aemond’s commands, the she-dragon relaxed, recalling her flames and closing her mouth. She purred to him like a cat, a sign that she approved his merit while standing in the face of death. Vhagar would allow the Prince an attempt to claim her, but he must prove himself before the eyes of the Gods, before the eyes of a dragon. 

Aemond took the ropes and climbed atop the mighty Vhagar’s back, positioning himself in the saddle and grabbing the reigns. 

“Sōvēs!” (Fly!) Aemond ordered, and Vhagar rumbled, raising her legs and shaking the sand from her scales. “Sōvēs!”

She obeyed, taking a few giant steps and flapping her great wings, pushing off from the ground and leaving a sandstorm in her wake. Though Aemond told Vhagar to fly, he still had yet to control her as she took to the night sky in a near-vertical position, catching him unaware. The force knocked him from the leather saddle, leaving him dangling in the air with just the reigns for purchase. Aemond screamed with fear, feeling as if his stomach lurched out of his body as he struggled against the whipping wind to regain control. 

She tested him as he grabbed the pommel, sat upright, and pulled the ropes to balance her. He felt like he was on a bucking horse, loosening, tightening, twisting, and turning to the left and right to steer her safely. Vhagar ignored Aemond’s movements and continued to fly like he wasn’t there, diving into the dunes of Driftmark before he reared her upwards, dragging her claws across the sand. He squealed in terror, blocking the debris that scratched his face as she soared over the sea.

Aemond knew he needed to prove himself to her, to show the war-hardened dragon that he deserved to ride her. Her chirps and groans from the day earlier called to him like nothing before, singing to the Prince in her dragon song of forlornness and isolation. Perhaps that was why he felt compelled to claim her. They both shared that feeling of loneliness deep within their souls, that same oddness in their families. The dragoness was too large to be held within any structure, leaving her in forced solitude, her only companions being her rider. Aemond was the only one, despite his Valyrian features, not to have a dragon. 

That would no longer be his story.

Aemond fortified his mind and will, putting his soul into his movements as he lifted Vhagar higher in the sky. He could feel the blood of Old Valyria coursing through his veins as the mighty dragon obeyed, leveling out her vast wings and soaring over Spicetown and back to Driftmark. He screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him in the skies, a bright smile he was sure you could see in Lannisport. 

Aemond had proven himself. He had shown himself and all who doubted and bullied him for not having a dragon that he was capable, that he was worthy. 

Everything was as it should be.

Perhaps you would allow him to kiss you again and spend the night in his embrace. Aemond had no doubt you would be proud of him as he listened to your assurances that he was brave, a dragon knight who you could trust with your secrets and protect you from enemies, and that he deserved your heart. 

Aemond landed Vhagar with a grace he hadn’t possessed before, climbing down the rope ladder on her side with windburnt cheeks. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he ran straight to the underground caverns of High Tide to wake you and explain everything.

“Jace!” 

You faintly heard a voice calling, sounding distant in your dream state. Ignoring it with a groan, you rolled over, trying to return to sleep.

“Jace, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!”

This woke you from your sleep. You sat up to see Baela and Rhaena hovering over your brother’s bed. 

“We need to stop them!”

Jace and Luke quickly threw the covers off and stuck their feet into their slippers as you observed them curiously. Rubbing the sleep from your face, you yawned, begrudgingly following them. 

“You cannot steal a dragon,” you countered after a long silence in the pale stone halls, your voice laced with sleep. It felt like you had hardly gotten a wink. 

“She is my mother’s dragon! I was supposed to claim her,” Rhaena countered, tears collecting in her dark eyes. 

Yawning again as you followed a few paces behind your siblings and cousins, you rolled your eyes, wanting to bite with the remark, “Why didn’t you?” But you didn’t say it. The reason was apparent why she didn’t, and Rhaena didn’t need any more reason to be distraught.

They led you to the caverns of High Tide, stumbling in your sleepless state. They led to the beaches lit only by dim torchlight, your movements groggy and slightly annoyed. On the other end of the tunnel, Aemond appeared before you with a proud grin and windswept hair. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, a contagious self-satisfaction that spread to you. 

He needn’t say it aloud. You could tell by how he carried himself, shoulders back, chin high, and a slight lift to his cheeks, that your uncle claimed a dragon—the mightiest one in the world, Vhagar. 

“It’s him!” Rhaena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Aemond.

It didn’t deter him, countering with his head high, violet eyes flicking from you to your cousin. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” she yelled, hurt as if this reasoning would change Vhagar’s fate. As you moved to Aemond, Jace grabbed your hand, stopping you with an anxious yet demanding look on his face. 

“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now,” your uncle replied, and you felt your brows raise in shock. You knew better than most of the cruelty he could commit, but after spending time with Aemond and seeing the softer, gentler, and kinder side of him, it took you off guard. 

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena argued, charging toward him in a challenge. Your skin began to itch, and your breath quickened. 

The hatred felt at the funeral carried over into your brothers and cousins. Tension in the air crackled like a fire in a hearth, watching the yellow and orange flames slowly dwindle into embers until someone threw tinder to spark it.

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride,” Aemond sneered. “It would suit you.”

Your lips parted in empathetic offense as you looked from your uncle to Rhaena, tears of guilt and shame pricking at your eyes. You apologized about the pig, and you thought Aemond forgave you, but it seems he couldn’t let go of the hurt no matter how close you were. The feeling of joy for your uncle’s feat was as brief as your friendship.

With a surge of rage, Rhaena charged forward, attempting to push Aemond, but he swiftly countered, and she fell to the ground. You jumped back in shock as you covered your mouth, Luke standing beside you. Baela screamed, protecting her sister as she punched him across his face and Aemond yelped in pain. Without thinking, you went toward your uncle, fearful for his well-being in your heart, but he swiftly stood before you could reach him, returning the same swing to Baela. You gasped in horror and moved to the side, narrowly missing your cousin’s body from colliding with yours. 

“Come at me again, and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” Aemond snarled at the twins, and without warning, Jace ran to him with a shout, shoving your uncle in offended anger and smacking him across the cheek.

You screamed for them to stop as you watched Luke try to join the fray, but you held him back, scared that he would get caught in the crossfire. He was the youngest and the littlest, most likely to get hurt. You needed to protect what family you could. Aemond brought this upon himself with his words of arrogance, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to defend him, too.

The scene before you was violent, a flurry of white, black, and red running atop Aemond as Luke slipped from your grasp, all pummeling, kicking, and screaming at him as you cried for them to stop. He was helpless as he suffered blow after blow, and you felt your heart splinter. This wasn’t a fair fight. Without worrying for yourself, you jumped on top of Jace, pulling him back from your uncle and giving him a chance to defend himself. You felt like a betrayer, turning against your twin to save your uncle. Your brother grunted as you both fell to the ground, his body on top of you as you struggled to keep him from fighting. 

You and your siblings had fought before, but nothing like this. It was so vicious, filled with violence and want for pain, as Jace whipped his head back into yours, causing it to slam against one of the many jagged rocks across the ground, having you see stars. He went back into the brawl with no worry for your safety as you heard the unsheathing of a knife, your eyes blurry as you struggled to see the scene before you. 

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond yelled, suddenly holding Luke by his neck with a rock in his hand.

“My father is alive!” Luke gasped in protest, flinging his arms and blood running down his face.

You needed to get up to protect Luke from physical harm and the threat of discovering your lineage. You didn’t believe Aemond would kill Luke. He was capable of violence, but he wasn’t a murderer. As you tried to move, your skull felt filled with sand, pulling you back down to the ground as you felt the warm trickle of liquid run down your neck. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your sight and mind. 

Aemond spoke again to Jace, seeming to forget your existence and holding a sense of superiority. “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?” 

You forgot how cruel Aemond could be. Your stolen moments of reading and kisses in the night had closed your eyes to it.

“Aemond, don’t,” you mumbled, skull pounding as the excruciating sounds of your brothers and uncle’s shouts pierced your ears like needles. 

You blinked your eyes into focus, seeing Jace wildly swinging a knife at Aemond as you managed to kneel. Your brothers didn’t realize how dangerous what they were doing was, that a knife wasn’t something to use against someone who was armed with only a stone in hand. While Aemond was bigger and had more combat experience, a dagger would kill him. Being upset because someone claimed a dragon wasn’t worth murdering over. 

Reaching your arm out with a soft grunt, you grabbed Jace’s ankle as Aemond pushed him over, holding the same rock above his head as he did for Luke. You thought Aemond knew better than this. You gave him the perfect opportunity to run and get help now that Baela and Rhaena huddled into a scared, crying mess, but he was too far gone into his anger to see reason, blinded by it. 

“Aemond! No!” you shouted hoarsely, trying to stand but failing as your head pounded like a drumbeat.

He turned to you then, lowering the rock to his side as he stared at you with the sudden realization of what he had done. Your uncle was filled with a surge of superiority inside him. He couldn’t think straight, and when he happened upon the five of you, people he was always told that he was above, something inside him that lay dormant finally broke free. He knew he was always capable of violence, but felt remorse when he saw your bruised nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and blood dripping down your throat. 

Did he do that to you? 

Suddenly, Aemond was blinded, sand thrown into his eyes as he stumbled back and heard the yell of Luke, unimaginable pain soon following. You watched in horror as your brother savagely sliced into your uncle’s left eye, blood pouring and splattering across the ground. 

Aemond couldn’t remember if you were amid his attackers. He surveyed the bruised and battered bodies before him and realized what he had done as his stomach fell to his feet.

He hurt people, just like Aegon. You would never entrust your secrets to him. His hands committed violence, but his heart desired to tell a different story—one of a strong and noble prince who went through many trials and tribulations to prove himself worthy of the princess's heart.

All you could hear were screams. Screams from you, screams from Aemond as you crawled towards him, sobbing. 

“Aemond!” you cried as he doubled over, falling into your body as he screeched in pain. 

“It hurts!” he wailed into your chest, his free hand clawing into your back. “It hurts! Help me!” 

You trembled, arms struggling to keep yourself upright against his weight as the flurry of guards rumbled inside your skull like thunder. Unable to make out their words as they moved, it seemed like you were watching the world from outside your body, from the lenses of another, as Ser Harrold pried Aemond from your embrace.

It hurt. Everything hurt—your heart, stomach, muscles, and head. You weren’t sure who led you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Jace to the Hall of the Nine as a flurry of people gathered, pushing and shoving as you clutched your skull. The room was so bright, so loud, as you heard your uncle’s screams. You felt sturdy arms grab you by your shoulders, roughly moving you as if you were nothing more than a doll, as it felt like your eyes were about to burst. Steel blue fabric blocked your eyes as you saw the hazy image of a seahorse stitched into the fabric.

“Father?” You reached out, small digits feeling along the fine silk until the texture of scruff scratched at your skin. Blinking, you saw the aged face of your grandfather, Lord Corlys, as he gathered you and your brothers behind him. 

Where was he, and where was your mother? 

You felt sick as people scattered around you like seagulls when they discovered a bloated whale carcass, all trying to see the injured Prince, who cried until the Maester poured Milk of the Poppy down his throat. It felt like when you accidentally drank the water from Blackwater Bay, like a cold, nauseous sensation that sent beads of sweat rolling down your spine. 

“I don’t feel good,” you whispered to Jace as you leaned into his side, clutching your head and gut. He paid you no mind, peering behind your grandfather to see your other one appear, bearing total weight upon his dragon-head cane. 

“How could you let such a thing happen?” Viserys questioned Ser Harrold, examining Aemond as you heard the sickening squelch of flesh and rattle of metal tools. “I will have answers!”

Despite it undoubtedly being a harrowing sight, you wanted to be by your uncle, to hold his hand through it, to feel his pain with him, but you couldn’t. You needed to be with your brothers. What they saw and experienced would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Luke had taken Aemond’s eye. 

“The princess and princes were supposed to be abed, my king,” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard explained, shame woven in his words. 

Viserys wouldn’t allow his knights to show such carelessness, surveying each of them with critical eyes. “Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his cousins, your grace,” Ser Cristion nonchalantly replied. His words angered you for reasons unknown, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. 

Viserys turned to the room, looking between the two Kingsguards on opposite sides of the family as he hobbled on his cane. “You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” he boomed in a way you hadn’t seen before. You were afraid he would direct his anger at you, Jace, and Luke, wrapping your arms around them like you were in any state to protect your brothers. 

“I’m very sorry, your grace,” Ser Westerling said, head hung low in unimaginable disgrace. You felt bad for him. There was no way he could have stopped this. He was doing his duty and serving his King. It was Ser Criston who should be blamed.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes before, your grace-”

“That is no answer!” your grandfather yelled at Ser Criston, causing a clap of pain to thunder inside your skull. 

You wanted to go to bed, sleep for eternity, and be awake to everything as it was yesterday. Your brothers and cousins unbloodied and Aemond dragonless and with an eye. 

“Where’s mother?” you noiselessly questioned Jace, leaning into his ear and almost losing your footing. You needed to stay strong for them. 

“It will heal, will it not? Maester?” Queen Alicent asked, velveteen voice quivering with pain for her poor son. Maester Kelvyn finished stitching Aemond’s skin, throwing the needle and thread into a bowl with your uncle’s fleshy, viscous eye. 

“The flesh will heal. The eye is lost, your grace,” his nasal voice replied matter-of-factly.

You were going to be ill. 

Quickly, you ran through the multitude of people, pushing past Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, who tried to stop you before you vomited all the contents of your stomach onto a person’s unsuspecting shoes. The crowd gasped in revolt, those not close to you jumping back and clutching their chests in shock. You found yourself before the fireplace, basking in its comforting warmth as you leaned onto the hearth and looked at the unlucky soul you retched on. 

Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of justice as you saw the disgusted face of Aegon before you. You didn’t hide your amused smirk.

“Tend to the Princess!” the King shouted to the Maester, seeming to forget about his injured son and throwing his cane in your direction. 

A flurry of green came before pale gray, tenderly cradling your visage in her palms as if you were her child, inspecting it. You grabbed the Queen’s wrists and attempted to push her away as if her touch burned, but she resisted, struggling against your childish strength until she grabbed your shoulders. Her touch reminded you of Aegon as you burst into tears, muscles going limp and at Queen Alicent’s mercy. She turned your head in her grasp, examining you with the utmost care that made another wave of nausea through you. 

The crowd observed in anxious silence as Aemond turned to watch his mother treat you with the affection he wished to receive. Familiar hatred bloomed inside his heart, swallowing his dry mouth as he thought resentfully. He would still have his eye if he hadn’t been so concerned with you. 

“I want my mother.” you whimpered, lips quivering in fear as the Queen lovingly wiped the blood from your neck. 

The Queen released you from her grip as if you had struck her, chest heaving and wide brown eyes watering as she turned to her eldest son. Your mother was here; you didn’t realize it.

“Where were you?” she interrogated Aegon, smacking him upside down before he could answer. 

“Ow! What was that for?” he questioned, incredulously rubbing at the afflicted area grimly. You held no sympathy for him as you hugged your sides. 

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your siblings suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!” she whispered heatedly so only he could hear, shaking his gangly body in rage. You looked at the Queen with confusion, thinking she had gone mad with grief when she said “siblings.”

As the grand Hall doors creaked open, a shaft of golden light spilled into the room, casting long shadows on the marble floor. With an air of elegance, your mother swept into the room, her silk gown trailing behind her. Following closely was Uncle Daemon, his formidable presence filling the space. Amidst the whispers and murmurs, your name and that of your brothers floated through the air, drawing your attention. Without a second thought, you moved toward her, the sensation of fingertips brushing your bicep as if a ghostly hand had tried to hold you back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me, show me!” your mother ordered you and Luke, softly running her digits across your body as you sobbed with relief. “Who did this?”

“They attacked me!” Aemond yelled before you could get a word out, leaning from behind his chair. 

You saw his wound on full display. An ugly crisscrossed row of stitches lined up his eye socket and onto his forehead, the flesh puckered and pink as it fought the infection. Your mother moved your face before you could stare any longer as a chorus of accusations from your brothers and cousins sang. You couldn’t get the image of his gash out of your head. 

“He was going to kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!” Luke loudly shouted as you scrunched your eyes with a painful wince.

“Enough!” you heard your grandfather yell, and you looked at him with helpless, watery eyes, but no one listened. 

“It should be my son telling the tale!” the Queen protested, fist pounding against her chest with conviction over the voices.

You continued to look at your grandfather in anguish, the King of The Seven Kingdoms, whom everyone ignored except you. “Silence!” he yelled, voice rattling inside his hollow chest as flem flew from his decaying mouth. 

The Hall went silent, quieter than the Stranger himself, as everyone looked at one another, stunned at the turn of events. People came here to mourn the loss of a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a wife, and a sister. Viserys looked at you and then at his son, his ivory staff sounding with every movement as you swallowed, the taste of bile strong. 

“He called us bastards.” you silently whispered to your mother, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened.” The King approached your uncle as he slumped into the armchair, stepping swiftly and with a newfound curiosity. “Now.”

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned, clutching at her neck as tears threatened to spill. “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.”

“Twas a regrettable accident,” your mother countered, moving her body to shadow the three of you from the onlookers.

“Accident?” the Queen repeated, astonished. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!” 

You realized the truth didn’t matter now. All that did was what people perceived it to be. 

“Twas my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” your mother argued as she placed a comforting hand onto Luke’s shoulders. “Vile insults were levied against them!” 

Your grandfather turned from his son to the four of you as you inhaled a shuddering breath. “What insults?” he questioned, a dangerous lilt to his tone that you had never heard before as the Hall went silent. It raised the hairs on your arms. 

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question,” your mother replied, her chin high yet holding a nervous waver to her voice. 

As she turned towards you, your mother’s eyes conveyed a silent but insistent demand to verbalize what you previously whispered. She wished everyone to hear these words from you—the compassionate and considerate eldest daughter known as The Gods’ Light among the common folk. With tears streaming down your cheeks and your chest heaving with emotion, you gazed at Aemond with a sense of guilt. You knew the words you were about to utter would carry an extraordinary weight. Both sides sought someone to bear responsibility for the turmoil, but you recognized the unspoken truth. 

At that moment, honesty seemed inconsequential. Aemond had suffered the loss of his eye due to Luke’s actions, and you keenly felt your failure to shield your brothers from harm. You would never fault at your duty again. 

“He called us bastards,” you confessed, lacking the anger and conviction of your siblings as you sniffled, refusing to look at Aemond. 

You watched as the Queen’s auburn tresses bounced with the slight affirming nod of her head, a look of disbelief and recognition crossing her face. At that moment, it became clear that she had informed Aemond about the deception, hardening your heart with betrayal. You had believed that she was different and loved you like family, and it stung to realize that she didn’t hesitate to spread lies that would hurt you.

“My children are to inherit the Iron Throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons,” your mother reasoned, stepping forward to her slouched father as you attempted to reach for her hand to keep you hidden. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such awful slanders.”

As you gazed at your mother, her expression eerily mirroring that of Alicent’s, your lips began to quiver with unease. Was your mother implying that he should be subjected to torture? It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Over an insult?” the Queen asked, shaking her head in disbelief. You knew she was trying to protect herself as you glared at the woman you once thought held the moon. “My son has lost an eye!”

“Tell me, boy. Where did you hear such lies?” the King seethed, face a hairsbreadth from Aemond as you whimpered.

“The insult was training yard bluster,” Alicent swiftly reasoned, eyes flicking desperately from her son to her husband. “The lot of boys. ‘Twas nothing-”

“Aemond,” your grandfather interrupted, ignoring his wife’s explanation. “I asked you a question.” 

Your uncle sat in solemn silence, his lone violet eye unwaveringly fixed on the ground while his father awaited his reply. Before he could utter a word, the Queen unexpectedly interjected. 

“Where is Ser Laenor, the children’s father? Perhaps he would have something to say on the matter,” she jeered.

Your grandfather turned, sparse brows scrunching together as he turned to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, your grace. I… could not find sleep and decided to take a walk,” your mother answered for them, smooth palms wiping across her crimson skirt.

The Queen let out a derisive laugh, her disbelief evident as she shook her head at her old friend. It was impossible to ignore the precise timing of Daemon’s arrival into the Hall of the Nine, trailing just moments behind Rhaenyra with her tousled strands of golden hair. Alicent bore the knowledge of her friend’s calculated machinations, even as Rhaenyra’s children stealthily slipped out of their beds to perpetrate the heinous act of maiming her son. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging suspicion that Ser Laenor was likely engaged in equally treacherous activities.

“Entertaining his young squires, I presume,” Queen Alicent sneered like before, making you feel the same deep-seated ire. 

As no one dared to voice their opposition to her words, a glint of silver caught your eye from the corner, revealing Ser Criston Cole’s silent laughter. Like Ser Harwin, you felt the urge to wipe that smug grin off his tanned face, even though you knew it was impossible.

“Aemond, look at me. Your King demands an answer,” your grandfather began, staggering before your uncle. “Who spoke the lies to you?”

Everything went silent; the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the waves in the darkness were all that could be heard in the Hall. You understood that whoever Aemond implicated might not live til the next morn. You felt your throat grow tight and struggled to breathe, clutching at your throat as you swallowed the acrid taste in your mouth. Queen Alicent told him as you recalled the time in Helaena’s room. It confused you at first why she would spread such gossip as she seemed to hold a tenderness for you. Claiming your brothers were bastards went without saying you were, but you realized that whatever contempt she had within her heart weighed far more significant than any affection for you. 

Some of you wished to shout that it was her, but you realized that was something Alicent would do without a second thought if the roles were reversed, and you did not want to be like her. She was wicked and cruel, just like her eldest.

“It was Aegon. He told Aemond to call us that,” you answered as every pair of eyes flocked to you. You didn’t like how close your grandfather was to him, afraid that he might strike him for the consequences of his mother. You felt your heart lurch into your throat as you gained the courage to speak the words aloud of all the bad things he did to you. “And he… he”

Before you could finish, your mother tucked you into her waist, kneeling and pushing your face into her shoulder. You tried to pull away from her when his hand rested on your head, the welt sensitive to touch. 

“Don’t,” she whispered into your hair, disguising it as a kiss. They deserved to know. Everyone needed to know what awful Aegon did to you. You wanted to move against her, but your mind was foggy and muscles weak.

“Me?” Aegon exclaimed with shock, wide amethyst orbs looking at you with a broken expression. 

“And you, boy,” your grandfather crept towards him, the rhythmic tapping of his cane piercing your skull like an ice pick. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” Your uncle refused to answer him as his gaze bore holes into your being. There was no remorse in your heart for him. “Aegon, tell me the truth of it!” Viserys shouted, causing you to flinch and cover your ears. 

“We know, father,” Aegon replied fearlessly, refusing to remove his stare from your quivering form. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Feeling the stares from the guests, you admired your uncle for not implicating his mother like a coward, removing your body from your mother, wiping the snot from your lip. Let them look, you thought, inhaling a deep breath as you felt your mother bring you closer. They would stare at you for the rest of your days. It was best if you grew accustomed to it now.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” the King declared, banging his walking stick off the pale stone floor. “All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it.” 

You grimaced at his words, and though you loved your grandfather, having been his favorite granddaughter, you disagreed with him. You refused to apologize for your family trying to defend themselves, and the Queen couldn’t help but agree more. 

“That is insufficient,” Alicent said, gesturing to her son. “Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King. Goodwill cannot make him whole.” 

Aemond’s fingers dug into the wooden framing of the armchair, and your chin quivered at the thought of what he might be feeling. 

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys sighed, “but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken,” she sobbed, clutching at her chest, flicking her hair back in a manner that reminded you of Aegon. “There is a debt to be paid. I shall have the hand of her eldest to one of my sons. To mend the rift and unite the House of the Dragon once more.”

“Alicent,” your grandfather breathed in a warning, yet still turned to his daughter, having a hint of hope in his violet eyes.

You looked at your mother, shock overcoming any sadness you felt as she shoved you behind her skirts like a hen would do to her chick, too stunned to speak. “I refuse.” 

The Queen shook her head, a sneer curling her plump lips and wet cheeks. Rhaenyra was a selfish, wicked woman with no inclination of decency. Why couldn’t she see this would be solved if she returned Alicent’s rightful daughter to her? The Queen steeled herself to the belief that she would have to fight for her right to have you. She knew deep in her bones that you would one day be by her side.

“Then I shall have one of her sons’ eyes in return. The Princess is innocent,” the Queen declared with a desperate wave of tears. 

Aemond looked to his mother, face impassive, and senses dulled from Milk of the Poppy. He didn’t recall telling her about what you did for him, though it was very little. It felt like he was becoming a second thought to his mother, who seemed only to be scheming on how to insert his niece into their lives. Aemond realized then that he would always be second in his mother’s heart to you, and he felt hollow at the thought, the love that once filled it for his niece ceasing to exist.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” your grandfather warned Queen Alicent. She said nothing as her chest heaved, brown orbs flicking between her husband and old friend.

Believing the matter finished, the King backed away, but Alicent wouldn’t allow this to be the end. She looked to her sworn protector, an apathetic expression on her visage. 

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Criston looked to the Queen with a startled expression as Luke cried for your mother. “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” your mother steadfastly declared, ensuring the three of you were behind her.

“Stay your hand,” the King commanded as the Queen shook with rage, desperately looking between her husband and sworn protector. She reminded you of a deer cornered in a vast forest, listening to the distant howls of wolves closing in for the hunt.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she yelled, finger pointing to her chest indignantly. All waited for the knight to respond, the Lord Commander slowly bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

“Protect your brother,” your mother whispered, never straying her eyes from the Queen. Without further instruction, you stood before Luke, gradually backing him away from the group of people unnoticed. You understood Alicent would not hurt you, as did your mother. 

“As your protector, my Queen,” Ser Criston replied with a wary head tilt.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” your grandfather declared, seething, his face centimeters away from his wife before he addressed the room. “And let it be known that if anyone’s tongue dares to question, the birth of Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of Luke, coming to take your place beside your mother as she thanked the King. The unsheathing of a blade cut through the room as the form of Queen Alicent charged toward your family, startling you, the King’s ancestral dagger in her grasp. Luke screamed as she reached the four of you, but your mother stepped in her path before Alicent could enact her rage. 

Suddenly, a person shoved into you, disregarding your existence as you found yourself on the floor. You noticed how the stone seemed to ebb and wave like the flow of the tide. Lord Corlys appeared beside you, lifting you into his arms, securely bound around your torso as he took you into the circle of your cousins and brothers, your mother struggling against the Queen. 

“You’ve gone too far!” your mother admonished the Queen as tears burned her eyes. She pushed against Alicent, and she jerked against her, trying to get to your brother.

“I?” Queen Alicent exclaimed, voice thick with anguish as you attempted to push out of your grandfather’s arms, kicking your legs into his side. “What have I done, but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law while you flout to do as you please?”

“Alicent, let her go!”

The Queen still poised the dagger to strike, its new path being that of the heir to the Iron Throne as your mother looked helplessly to the onlookers. No one made to separate the two as they all stared in shock, the fire illuminating their faces like wraiths of death. Landing a hard smack to Lord Corlys’s neck, he dropped you as you shoved through the onlookers toward your mother. She put her life for yours and your brothers, but who would put hers before theirs? 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? My happiness and dreams? It’s templed under your pretty foot again!” the Queen sobbed, her form trembling with hurt and rage, everything that she bottled inside her for years. 

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Lord Otto commanded, a man you hadn’t met until this morn, but she paid him no mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she pushed against her old friend. 

“Wasn’t taking her, my only light, enough for you? And now you take my son’s eye, and to that, you feel entitled,” she confessed, tears making the Queen’s mouth thick with wetness as you shouldered your way to the inner circle of people. 

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness,” your mother interrogated, a bitter grimace on her sharp lips. “But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent stared at your mother with an enraged offense that wrinkled her brows as she felt fire surge through her, and with a loud cry, she unthinkingly swung your family’s ancestral dagger. You screamed, running to your mother as you pulled her back, seeing a gash on her inner arm that gushed with blood. 

“Mama,” you wept, tenderly holding her limb as if it would break. 

Dropping the dagger, Alicent took an instinctual step toward you, a blanched, horror-stricken expression across her round face. She longed to go to you, to dry your tears and stroke your head against her bosom like your true mother would, but she could not. The terror and fear in your wide brown eyes that resembled her own sliced through her chest and laid her heart and soul bare as she felt a small hand slide into hers. The Queen hoped to see you standing beside her and thought herself mad before she securely took her son’s fist.

Much like you, Aemond knew his parent needed him. “Do not mourn me, mother. ‘Twas a fair exchange,” he expressed with a maturity beyond his years. He turned to you, a violet gaze once filled with joy now devoid, hollow, and one less eye. “I may have lost an eye but gained a dragon.”

You wished Aemond hadn’t claimed one this way and felt a hiccup wrack your lungs as you cried into your mother, Jace, and Luke coming beside you. You sadly realized this was the end of the fleeting companionship you cultivated with your uncle. All the stolen moments of reading, ideas, philosophies, and aspirations you shared under the cover of privacy were nothing more than air the moment he ran across the dunes. You would have still cared for him without a dragon, as before, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, and now he stared at you with an eye that you knew far too well. 

Aemond hated you. He loathed you and your brothers with a fire that would never cease. This was your fault. He lost an eye because of you—because he cared about his bastard niece and had the foolish dream of becoming the man you loved. You did not deserve it. You were nothing more than a common girl born from sin, undeserving of your station. He would despise you for the rest of his days no matter how his heart screamed to have you by his side when darkness fell and all that was left was the ghost of your touch. 

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Happiness never lasts in ASOIAF. I'm going to miss writing for baby Aemond and reader. They were so cute! From now on it's going to be messed up young adults with severe mommy uses and mental illness. I'm not going to say who has which XD. Thank y'all so much for reading and I hope to see y'all in the next chapter!

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[mym3lodys]

♡ SHIFTING ASK GAME ♡

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ ִ shifting ask game with questions inspired by mha characters, but these apply to any desired reality of yours. reblog 4 asks <3

✩☆ 🌸⁠ ⁠)⁠ — OCHACO URARAKA: uraraka’s dream is to help her parents and bring them happiness. what’s the one person whose happiness means the most to you, and how do you go out of your way to make their life easier?

✩☆ 🩸⁠ ⁠)⁠ — HIMIKO TOGA: how do you express love in a way that feels true to you? who else lets you be fully yourself without asking you to change to be loved back?

✩☆ 🪩 ⁠)⁠ — MINA ASHIDO: what’s a unique trait you have that naturally brings joy and positivity to others even in tough moments?

✩☆ 💥 ⁠)⁠ — KATSUKI BAKUGO: what’s a challenge that you faced head on that could’ve “crushed” you , but instead it helped you grow?

✩☆🥦 ⁠)⁠ — IZUKU MIDORIYA: is there something you worked tirelessly for ? how did it feel when you finally achieved it? was it great?

✩☆🎧⁠)⁠ — KYOKA JIROU: in your dr, do you express yourself through art, music, or something else?

✩☆ ✋⁠)⁠ — TOMURA SHIGARAKI: when you’re overwhelmed, how do you relax? do you prefer to be alone or do you enjoy the presence of others?

divider creds: cafekitsune!