#I am older now and understand less actually

[razzledazzle-pop]

“That’s just the way the world works.” Okay but have we considered: maybe it shouldn’t be that way?

[vaguely-concerned]

It's really interesting that Wynne actually has quite a measured, bordering on downright sympathetic response to hearing what Jowan did in the prologue -- if the mage Warden says "I still can't believe Jowan was that stupid", her answer is something like a thoughtful "Stupid, or desperate, or merely curious?". She seems to think of Jowan as a kid who got in over his head, rather than any less charitable interpretation. I do believe she genuinely is as against blood magic as she publicly expresses and as the Circle party line demands, but as a private person she clearly has a more nuanced and potentially kinder understanding of the reasons why someone might resort to it, at the very least.

(related: when she says that part about Irving telling her what happened, there's no dialogue option in the first stage of the conversation (except choosing the 'leaving the conversation' one) that doesn't net you +2 approval! no matter how the warden feels about it, she is ready to recieve it. I think that says something sweet about how Wynne conceptualizes younger mages and the honest real affection she has for them. if you didn't snitch on jowan and say you stand by that decision, though? +3 approval, apparently! what Wynne says and what Wynne thinks is not always the same thing indeed, her idea of where personal loyalty and integrity stands vis-a-vis a mage's responsibility to the circle may be more flexible than she'd have people believe, you'll be surprised to learn lol)

I have always liked wynne and found her interesting, in all her hypocrisies and her earnest care, but with slightly older eyes she's extra fascinating to me in the same ways that Iron Bull is -- seeing someone whose mind has had hollows carved out in it by the need for double-think and compartmentalization imposed by the oppressive systems and ideologies they live under, and the quiet fight of the self to still preserve vital parts of itself that the system deems unacceptable in the hidden backstage areas of the soul, as it were. (and for both of them part of that self is love and protectiveness of specific other people, beyond what their 'role' dictates is acceptable for them.) I think Wynne has managed to sneak more of her internal self through the meatgrinder relatively intact than Bull overall, but it's the same logic underlying it, for me, and it makes me feel such intense affection and compassion for them both to see how hard they try

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Interesting. Don’t necessarily think I’m autistic but I have more going on than just ADHD and I’m not sure what that is.

[ltleflrt]

Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol

So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.

So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.

Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.

I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.

In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.

(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)

I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.

Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.

This post is for them.

Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."

Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.

Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.

Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.

And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.

AND:

This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.

You're valid. You're one of us too.

And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)

[gaypirate420]

Shooting classes // Jayce Talis.

S1!Jayce Talis x male!Kiramman!reader.

Summary: Jayce's always been close with Caitlyn's brother.

A/N: If you want to know how Caitlyn's brother sounds to me, picture Charles from Dead Boy Detectives.

Angst/Fluff.

Jayce sighs deeply. First day as councilor and now he has so much to do after his talk with Caitlyn. As he makes his way out of the Kiramman residence, a sharp loud sound makes him jump, he looks around, birds flying off the trees.

Another one.

Then another one.

The councilman hesitantly walks around the garden, he stops as he sees you, gun in hand and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, a target lifts off the ground and less than a second you've shot it back down. Jayce stays extremely still, not wanting to be shot by accident or making you miss and lose concentration which is worse on his book. You lower your gun after emptying your gun.

"That was quite the show." Jayce speaks with a teasing tone, you whipped your head in his direction, taking your ear plugs out and smirking, a small redness crept on his tanned cheeks.

"if it isn't the man of progress." You teased, his cheeks feel a little warmer as he walks closer to you, his hazel eyes looked up and down at your outfit, so fancy even if you're in the middle of your garden shooting.

"Oh please, don't call me that." He rolls with eyes but let's out a small laugh, his eyes looked over to your targets.

"Bold of you to practice near your mother's vases and the old statues of your family." He spoke softly, you chuckled and shrugged.

"How's Caitlyn?" You asked as you loaded your rifle.

"She's- doing better." He didn't want to elaborate, maybe he shouldn't snitch to her older brother about how she's playing detective and definitely not about how he's going to help her now that he's part of the council. You nodded along to his words.

"Got a new toy?" Jayce spoke with curiosity, you lift it for him to see it, he pulls away from you, taking the rifle in his hands, his curious hazel eyes roaming all over it, his fingers brushing it like he's trying to dissect it in his mind.

He mimics the position you held earlier, holding the gun out towards a target. He chuckles softly and looks at you as if waiting for you to stop him.

"Go ahead, golden boy." You spoke softly, Jayce smirked. He is not a sharpshooter, he's never shot a gun but he's seen you and Caitlyn practice for years. The taller man nods and takes a deep breath, you take a couple of steps back.

His eyes are on the target, his finger pulls the trigger. The sound makes him flinch, he stumbles a little back and the butt of the rifle hits his shoulder slightly, he swallows a whimper.

"I think I got it." He says confident though, his characteristic toothy smile shining bright. You smirked and pointed, the target was untouched, the tree behind it whatsoever had a bullet hole on its side. A deep red crept on his cheeks again, he mumbled something incoherently that made you laugh.

"Oh do not get all embarrassed now, Talis. Let me show you how it is supposed to be done." You muttered quietly, what he didn't expect was your hands touching his body.

"Just fix your posture a little more.." You spoke softly, your breath clashing against his cheek, he nodded and let you move him, you were gentle and it made him tingle.

"Arms up." You fixed his arms, positioning the rifle properly and feeling his muscles under your hands.

"And..." You tilted his chin, he felt actual shivers down his spine, his hazel eyes meet yours, your face closer than ever.

"You do not know how to kiss!?" You said out loud, Jayce covers your mouth quickly.

"Don't tell the whole academy about it!" He whispers angrily, you chuckled and a small drunk hiccup makes you jump.

"I told you because I want advice not for you to make fun of me!" He whispered again, you rolled your eyes and nodded, your words were muffled by his hand but he could understand you saying you won't make fun of him again, his hand pulls away.

"Just- what am I supposed to do? I don't want to disappoint this girl." Jayce sighed, taking a big sip of his beer and running a hand through his hair.

"Just be yourself, mate! Don't think too much about it, you just lean in and go at it!." You stated matter-of-fact. Jayce stared at you, as if telling you that it wasn't that easy, maybe you need to be a little more descriptive. You take a swing of your beer and scoot closer to him.

"You get a little closer, tell her about her eyes, about how- you admire her and how you're inspired by her." You spoke softly, the taller man leaned closer, nodding along your words and listening intently, his eyes never leaving yours so he does notice the blush creeping into your cheeks.

"You- stare into her eyes, get lost in them for a second." You said even softer, the two of you stayed silent, staring into each other's eyes.

"And then I kiss her?" He asks snapping out of your thoughts, you nodded, before you could take another sip of your bear, his big hand cupped your face and he leaned in locking his lips with yours. You gasped as he deepened the kiss, his other brand on your waist, leaning you back against the bed of his dorm.

"There, you can shoot now." You said simply but Jayce's eyes were down on your lips, you had that feeling, before that night at the academy it was butterflies, having him close and just to yourself. After that night, it felt like nausea. Like a mistake it shouldn't have happened, a drunken night with a regretful ending and having to endure the following years of meetings girlfriend after girlfriend made it worse every time.

At least you still had his friendship, his love, even if it wasn't how you wanted it. But it lingered, with every hug that was a couple of seconds too long or with a short praise or even seeing him in the crowd in your shooting competitions.

His eyes got back to the target but then they returned to yours, his big and shiny as always as he lowered the rifle.

"Are you planning to kiss me and not talk about it for years again, mate?" You asked without thinking, the taller man stared at you with wide eyes, his cheeks a deep red but also it felt like a shot directly into his heart but you've always been like that, ironically even your words hit the target. He could see it, the mix between teasing and genuinely hurt in your eyes.

"I'm sorry about that night." He mutters softly, you freeze, that's not fair you weren't ready to have this conversation right here right now.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk about it the next day, nor ever. But I was scared." His big puppy eyes looked up at you, your face softened, you could never stay angry at him.

"Scared of losing your friendship, of not being enough for you. It was stupid-"

His words are cut short by your lips sealing his. His eyes widen but then close, leaning in and his big hand on your waist. You gasped softly wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders to keep him close.

"Let me make it up." He mumbled against your lips, you looked up into his eyes, the pleading gaze that stares into you.

"Let me- show you the love I feel for you that I always felt." Jayce whispers with a small quiver into his words, your eyes widen and your cheeks feel warm at the sound of that word.

"Please." The cherry on top.

"You know the way to my bedroom." You answered with a small smirk, Jayce smiles, a relieved but nervous laugh escapes him. He leans in for a second time, this time hungrier as he tastes you, before you know it, his arms wrap around your waist and legs and he picks you up, making you gasp and chuckle, burying your face on his neck and leaving soft kisses along it.

A/N: FIRST JAYCE FIC YAYYYYYY!!1!1!!11! I hope you like it! Excuse me if it's a little ooc for Jayce but it's my first time writing for him! Send requests! (Divider)

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Hi! I love your interpretation of the yan batfam so much bdnfbfkjfnd I was wonderong how you think Dick and/or Jason would react to a rather compassionate batsis?

She's definitely not on board with their obsession but she can understand where their coming from and gives them like ACTUAL compassion.

Ik you said Dick enjoys having a positive image in front of others most of all his younger sister, so how would he react to her seeing his flaws but still, being kind? Jason strives to be "normal", so much so he spirals sometimes, but like what would knowing/experiencing genuine closeness (not pity or false pretenses) change?

Idk if either of them would redeem their bad habits, but am curious to know what being truly seen and accepted would do to them, especially by someone they care about so much. The bats can have their walls pretty high up after all

A/N: sorry about the late responses. I've been out of it the past few days.

context dick context jay

Okay so when you are dealing with yanderes... you are dealing with extremely unstable people. There are so many ways thus could go but here's just one

Dick

Maybe your compassion makes Dick chill out a bit with his unhealthy tendencies. I think initially he'd still be uncomfortable and bothered that you can see right through him. You can see all his flaws and you don't revere him like the others which is bad. It will still anger him and he'll try manipulating you into loving him like everyone does at first.

A heart to heart with him could work. You acknowledge you know he's crumbling and has really horrible coping mechanisms but that doesn't mean that you don't love him. That you respect him even more because you see just how much passion he puts into everything that he does. It isn't his fault he craves so much validation when he had the upbringing he had but he doesn't have to pretend to be someone he's not to please you. That even if he doesn't smile as much or be selfish sometimes that you won't love him any less. You give him a space to be authentic with you with no judgment.

"erm,,,okay. I'll keep that in mind."

He's a bit taken back by it and doesn't know how to exactly process what you just said. I've mentioned before that he doesn't exactly know how to just be himself because for most of his life he was always being someone that others needed.

He's still on guard for a while. He will dip his toes in the waters by maybe not smiling as much with you or rescheduling your hang out session to go out on a date just to see your reaction. Did you truly mean it when you said he was allowed to be selfish? He was fully expecting you to hate him but seeing just how unbothered you were made him go...oh!

I think this shifts his obsession with you. He's still very much yandere but i think he's much more child-like ? I mean Dick still is obsessed with you and all that jazz but before, he wanted to be the best older brother/father figure. His happiness was dependent on how much you needed and revered him. But now you're becoming his safety blanket for when he's stressed, tired or upset. WIth you he can just lay on your shoulders without speaking and you won't even mind. He can be kind of assholey or dark and you will understand he's just in a mood and what he says never leaves the two of you. You won't take away your compassion or love based on how he acts...the first non-transactional relationship he's ever truly and it's pretty great. He finally feels like a brother and not like he's playing house anymore.

Don't get me wrong, he's still your older brother who gets on your nerves but there's just this mutual appreciation there that lacks with the others.It's clear to the others that he loves you just a bit more than the rest. When it's movie/game nights, he will allow you to sit it out or not tag along to restaurants. He's very protective and defensive over you. He doesn't feel as much of a need to do all that stupid crap with you because if he wanted your time, he could have a peaceful moment on the rooftops with you instead.

Jason

Hmm..i think Jason will just always feel a bit outcasted. There are plenty of people who do care about Jason in the comics but it's hard to relate to someone who's been through what he's been. It's just so unique to him. He knows you don't truly understand what it's like to have spirits of the Lazarus haunting you in your sleep. He knows that you cannot feel the pain of being replaced by someone you're now forced to see as a brother.

When i wrote my last piece a few people took it as me saying the reader found Jason to be odd. Really what it was is that Jason put those thoughts into his own head because he internalized the joke because of his own insecurities. The reader was perfectly fine with Jason being a little off...it made sense as he would've just come back from being dead and is trying to find a bit of normalcy.

It's funny though because while he's trying to be "independent" it's painfully clear he's still very much attached to you and is still unknowingly mimicking you.

I think though if reader sat down with Jason and explained he doesn't need to change or be "normal" because you love him the way he is, maybe he will relax a bit. But i think there would always be voices in Jason's ears telling him he needs to be perfect. My version of jason is around 20-ish year old who is a bit emotionally stunted and disoriented because he's just coming out of the pit. After a few years of being integrated back into the family he'll understand that you actually do love him as a brother and he serves a great purpose even if that purpose doesn't look the same as Dick's.

[tommydarlings]

take what’s yours and leave | t.w

pairing: toto wolff x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 0.8k

summary: after having another one of your infamous arguments with toto, you can’t take it anymore and tell him to take what’s his and leave, but you didn’t think that he would take your order that serious.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

You were fighting with toto… again.

The two of you were fighting regularly, always raising voices and walking away from each other and then back into each others arms again, this time it was different though.

He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up and scoffed after you finished scolding him like a child, rolling his eyes at your behaviour, “Y/n, my love-”

“Don’t 'my love' me now, toto! I told you so many times already that you should give me a call or send me a quick message if you have to stay longer at the office at Mercedes! But every single damn time you just 'forget it' and let me sit here at home all alone and annoyed!” You spat up at the tall austrian.

Toto sighed and put his hands on his hips as he looked down at your angry figure, “I know, I know and I’m s-”

“Yeah, yeah you’re sorry, I know… I’ve heard this words a lot from you lately, toto,” you shook your head with a scoff, taking a few steps back from him, “I’m fucking tired of it, toto, I really am… you’re a grown man and you can’t manage to save some hours of your day for me…that’s sad if you ask me,” you shrugged.

Your older boyfriend ran his hands over his face, brushing his shirt hair back in the process, “baby, I know how fed up you are, but-”

“Then why do you keep-”

“Let me finish my sentence for once, okay?” He raised his voice a bit, making you gulp and look at the floor before he continued,

“But work is also very important to me, which doesn’t mean that you’re not important to me! Or that you’re less important! But I have responsibilities, my love, lots of tiring responsibilities that I need to take care of,” he told you in a calmer tone.

You cleared your throat and looked back up at him, “Then don’t be in a relationship if you’re work is exhausting,” you said angrily, still not being able to calm down.

Toto rolled his eyes and briefly let his head hung low at your comment, “You’re lack of understanding my work life is really unbelievable, isn’t it?” He looked at you from across the kitchen.

You chuckled and bit your lip, “my lack of understanding your work life?” You shook your head, “oh you got some balls, baby! I think your lack of acknowledging our relationship and the fact that you have something — or actually, someone, besides your stupid work life is unbelievably! No, it’s embarrassing!” You raised your voice as well and kept eye contact with your tall boyfriend.

Toto bit his inner cheek and shook his head, looking at the wall with crossed arms before he took a deep breath, “Now you’re speechless, huh? Because you know I’m right,” you added quickly.

The former racing driver raised his head and looked at you, “You know what?” You swiftly walked over to the modern door of your million dollar mansion and opened it, “take what’s yours and leave!”

You were furious, your blood was more than just boiling, you were really sick of him.

Toto scoffed again and bit his lip before a smirk made its way onto his face, making you furrow your browns in confusion.

Before you could even say anything, toto took long and quick steps towards you and swiftly picked you up, throwing you carelessly over his broad shoulder in a swift motion, giving you no time to protest.

You gasped and placed your palms onto his muscular back, “Toto, no! Let me down, what are you doing?” You asked him as his big, veiny hands squeezed your thighs,

“I'm doing what you told me to do, I'm taking what’s mine,” he told you calmly with — most probably — a cheeky smirk on his lips, making you almost — but only almost — laugh.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before you let your head hung low, “Toto… you know that’s not what I meant, now let me down!” You continued protesting.

Your boyfriend only turned around and walked back to the kitchen, his big hand tightly holding the back of your thighs so you don’t fall.

He chuckled deeply, “what did you say, beautiful? I can’t hear you from back there,” the Austria joked wickedly, forcing you to roll your eyes once again.

“I said-”

But before you could repeat your sentence, toto swiftly threw your off of his broad shoulder and put you right in front of the countertop, making your back lean against it as he slowly placed bit of his palms on the countertop next to your hips, intimidatingly leaning in,

“What did you say? I’m sorry that I interrupted you, sweetheart… now you can go on,” he mumbled quietly, waiting for you to speak up.

But you only gulped as you looked io at him with big eyes, gently shaking your head, “N-No, everything’s fine,” you said softly.

“Are you sure, baby? Nothing you wanna say to me?” Toto continued whispering to you, leaning in a bit closer so that your nose was almost brushing his.

“N-Nope,” you replied almost nervously since he was so close.

He smirked before he took a step away from you again, “alright, if you say so, mein liebes,” my love.

[athena5898]

I often think when people hear "infantilizing a group of people", they think of it literarily that we are actively being made a infant. While this is a part of it, I think people miss the subtle things that end up causing chasms in their relationships with that group of people.

It's actually hard to pinpoint because it's never a singular event, it's many tiny things but the end result is always "I am the authority, I will always know more then you, I will never take your advice, I will never be honest with you (you know to spare *your* feelings), any disagreement is your fault, any problem in your life is my cross to bear and you must follow how I tell you to fix it, I will never stoop myself to understanding what your needs are as X group and will view everything from my own lens and judge you accordingly, we are not equals, and we never will be. (This is not a exhausted list, nor will everyone have all the same traits)

It is very hard to connect with someone who just automatically assumes a higher status to you just because of something you can't change. All the while the offender thinks what they are doing is actually a good thing. They are somehow helping you by just assuming they are better then you (which in the end, that's kinda what this is).

I have a few people in my life that I care for a lot, but they are not that much older then me yet they act like I can't possibly understand them and automatically shove this "child" label on my forhead.

And here is the thing, they will voluntarily bring up why they think this if you pay attention. It might be trauma they've dealt with, it might be that they have kids and you don't, age, or anything else like this. However I think it's important to note that I have friends who do not talk down to me and respect me as my own person with autonomy and also have these things going on in their life. So it's not like it's impossible to treat someone with respect and have these differences.

Now what do some of these subtle differences look like? There are many ways they can materialize but to name a few.

- Demanding the person solves a problem their way despite the person telling them why their circumstances do not allow that.

- assuming...well anything and all the time. These people have a tendency to think they know exactly what you are feeling and other such things and if you try to correct them then they will actually get upset at you or show some type of passive aggressiveness.

-Speaking on your behalf without asking permission

-never valuing your expertise on any subject. They are older/more mature then you, therefore to them they know more about everything. What's really fun (/s) about this is when they will explain to you, why you are wrong, by repeating what you said back at you.

- any reason why you can't do a thing, or why you need an aide is an excuse. You could do it if you *really* wanted to, but you are just being lazy. Now the real adult has to take up your burden.

- they do not/cannot listen to you. No matter what you say or how you say it, or if they even confirm what you say, there is always a part of them that is not listening. Or hell, they could of listened to you, but since what you say isn't important to them, they will quickly forget it and may even try and claim you never said anything to them.

- I'm not sure if this counts as infantilizing, but I notice that it happens a lot in tandem. While they think less of you and treat you like a child whose facts and opinions don't matter, all of this will change at a moment's notice when they need something from you...oddly enough something they probably normally do not take seriously from you on a normal day. Suddenly thrusting you with this burden of taking care of them even though they are never there for you in any meaningful actually helpful way most of the time. Like you will literally be demanded to stop what you are doing, and get over whatever you are going through to help them and their problem. I cannot explain how frustrating it is to be demanded to be the mature one while most of the time being denied respect.

I could go on, but honestly if I sat here and thought of every single tiny thing they do to make sure there is distance between you and them up on their self made pedestals, I'd be here all day.

The worst part on all of this is that I have no idea how to resolve it. People who do this are not inherently bad people, hell they might not even realize they do it. But this can actually make it more difficult to bring to their attention. I have tried many ways and many different times to resolve this, but I haven't been successful yet. Anyone who has corrected themselves were people who just had a little mess up but still obviously viewed me as a person from the start.

These subtle ways someone can dehumanize you, it can cause terrible rifts and of course the other person never understands why (see point above about not listening)

I am writing this as a autistic person, but I know there are others who go through this. Please check the ways you create artificial authority over someone.

Edit: someone reblogged this with hashtags about how we shouldn't do this to children either and I completely agree, I was using the term because it's the one often used to explain these things. Adding the edit cause I have no idea how to respond to the hashtag thing and I think it's a important thing to note.

[enluv]

bewitched

pairing: anton x mentioned gn reader! (pls lmk if there are any gendered terms I may have missed)

synopsis: in which anton has a not so tiny actually really big crush on reader.

genre: fluff that made me smile to myself so hard that I had to remind myself this was just a fic, idol!anton & idol!reader, angst if you squint, pouty anton & his hyungs love to tease him for it!

coco’s <3 note: this was something I wrote up after a really long day of studying for finals last week so if you hate it lie to me (I’m sensitive) and it’s completely self indulgent 😭 + not edited well…

small but important a/n: I am so happy people love this fic as much as I do but I unfortunately will not be making a part two for it! originally I didn’t plan one and still in my heart feel like it doesn’t really need one!! sorry my loves, ty for the understanding 🤍

anton who smiles to himself as he watches you do his groups dance challenge, he’s seen you backstage countless times now with your group and he swears you’re his soulmate.

loud and energetic, your personality compliments his usually timid and introverted one.

the first one to notice is seunghan, always the one with the keenest eye, he teases anton throughly when you walk past them in the music show halls, pushing his shoulders and tugging at the boys pink cheeks.

the next two to notice are wonbin and shotaro, having caught their youngest replaying your groups music video just after briefly being introduced to you, he claims it’s so he can learn your dance challenge but the boys can tell from the way his voice raises an octave, that he’s lying.

eunseok and sungchan take note as they watch his eyes sparkle up at the screen in their room backstage, there’s no hiding the proud smile he wears as he watches you move about on stage smiling and enjoying the time you have with fans, they can see just how much he admires you.

sohee is the last to know as he walks right up to you, laughing and joking like old friends do, anton goes through the five stages of grief so quickly the rest of the members laugh loudly at him.

first, he denies what’s taking place in front of his eyes, he can’t fathom how you know his friend, or why you two seem so close.

second, he’s angry. not at sohee or you, never you of course, but at himself for not seeing the obvious signs. you’d done their dance because you knew his friend, not just because you were interested in him them.

third, anton tries rationalizing with himself. this was okay, it’d be okay, and if you ended up with sohee it would be fine because technically he’d never admitted to liking you, and so technically you weren’t anyone to him, so really if he thought about it, he’d be fine, especially if you made his best friend happy.

fourth, he’s pouting, and not even on purpose in a cute way, he’s full on pouting at the scene taking place in front of him. he’s sad you’re so close to sohee, sad he isn’t the one making you laugh loudly or putting a smile on your face, sad that he has absolutely no chance with you at all. this isn’t fair, but he can’t do anything so he resorts to pouting and clinging onto his older brothers for comfort (as they laugh and tease his current state).

finally, anton thinks he’s over it. he’s been watching you and sohee giggle about back and forth for what seems like hours now (it’s been less than five minutes) and he thinks he can finally accept this reality. you’re into his friend and he’s chopped liver. yeah that’s totally fine, he’s totally okay with this outcome.

the older boys smile at one another as they watch anton bury his head deeper into eunseoks broad shoulders, seemingly shielding himself from the scene in front of him. they know when their maknae is upset and it’s a million times clear just how much he is right now.

“anton, are you okay? I want to introduce you to my friend.” sohee’s soft voice pulls him out of his depression, slowly rising his head he’s met with a pair of eyes he knows too well, and his ears turn red.

“this is my roommate, he’s the one I told you about, the one that’s a big fan of you,” his friend laughs after his words and anton isn’t sure what’s worse: you being madly in love with sohee or you knowing he’s madly in love with you.

“anton right? I’m also a big fan of you, if that’s not totally embarrassing to admit to you.”

and just like that he’s swooning again, all the thoughts and feelings from before melt away as he pushes past eunseok to stand in front of you. now this, this is just perfect.

sohee shoots him a smile and a thumbs up, and it all clicks, anton is almost ashamed of how he’s acted.

sohee knew about his crush, how could he not? they shared a room together, of course he’d caught him watching your content, laughing at things you’d said, and bashfully liking your pictures from his spam account, he’d done this on purpose, he’d introduce you to one another on purpose.

“do you want to maybe grab some lunch with me?”

so maybe that wasn’t what he’d planned to say to you first but at least he’d spoken…right? even if it was straightforward and not like him at all.

your laugh makes his ears even redder, and he’s instantly smiling as you nod, taking his hand and leading him to “a really good cafe” as you put it. anton isn’t listening fully, he’s just happy he can finally admire you in person.

yeah he’s definitely too far gone. he thinks he might be in love.

coco’s <3 note x2: I love love love writing for riize they’re honestly my favorite boys ahhh I love them!! hopefully now that I am on break I can write more for them :) thinking of opening requests for them too maybe? and like if you know me you know I don’t do that often so !!! hope you enjoyed this fic, feedback & reblogs are always appreciated <3

riize taglist — @palajae @txtlyn @rllymark @soheekisser @luvbinnies (can’t tag those in bold 😕)

Want to join the taglist? Find the forms here!

[missnightshade]

❝ REMAIN ❞ 

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request? Yes!

Summary: Agatha comes and goes in fear of hurting her loved one. Could she learn how to love without pain?

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort i guess. English not being my first language.

Word count: 1.4K!

          

  “Where there’s truth there’s bound to be pain. People get older, but some things don’t change.” 

A force of nature, her way of coming and going was just as violent as the wind. Her love, as weird as it may be, poured down like a summer rain. It lifted the burden and, yet, echoed into the warmth of a silent day.  

Agatha was, to put it in other words, hard to love. Not that loving her came in hard. It was, actually, the easiest thing you’ve felt in your life. Even since the first smile, scrutinous so, your skin only knew how to touch hers. It wasn’t only carnal, at all. At times, the centuries old witch would appear out of nowhere with a softness to her eyes that could only be seen as longing. She missed you, told you that herself. Yet, after two or three days, she would go. Disappear into her world of mischief and secrets that you weren’t allowed to enter.  

But still, your longed for her every day till she came back. With the same open heart. With the same smell and heat that welcomed her for as long as she wanted to stay.  

It could be hurtful for someone less understanding. Someone whose life was a burden itself. Even with the number of issues anybody could have, she was the solemn reason why nothing could ever get to you. Her love protected, healed.  

And that was something she could never see.  

You’ve noticed this once when she was back at your house after the longest she had been away. Three weeks. Almost a month and your worried face as you welcomed her was the one thing she promised herself not to see again. As you settled on your couch after a homesick meal (that one dish of yours she could never get sick of), she gently ran her slender fingers against your lighter hair, twisting the locks around her index before letting it go and restarting it again.

“What is going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

Her eyes roamed your relaxed face. Something unreadable passed between her eyebrows and you eyed her calmly.  

Agatha laughed ever so slightly, shaking her head dismissively, but still providing some sort of answer.  

“Just how pretty you are...” she paused, pursing her lips in a straight line, like there was something really bothering her core. Something only the vulnerability of so much time apart from you could make her feel. “It’s honestly a shame how...how I am breaking you to bits.” 

Her words took a while to sink in. Brows frowned, you kept your head in its place on her lap, not daring to leave. That idea, for the first time, became palpable, and absurd.  

“Breaking me?” you questioned, the genuine confusion settling down. Agatha was the best thing of your life. “You think you’re breaking me?” 

As she looked down at you, something flashed again. Like the moment passed, burried itself deep within her. Like she’d said more than enough, and nothing more came out of her mouth instead of loud moans of your name at night and general praises during the next morning before she disappeared again.  

That was too many weeks before. And just like the last time, Agatha Harkness seemed to be on her personal mission to make your encounters more and more rare. Three weeks from the last time were nothing compared to the now one month and two days without as much as a word.  

Your last proper conversation lingered in your head the whole time. Even away, it was always like that. Agatha would consume every living second of your existence, but this time, with the confession lingering a bit louder than her voice and her warmth. It was as if this time, your heart was ensuring you would remember the reason if she never appeared again.  

The thoughts were wild, careless, hurtful for the days to come after that. Time, itself, didn’t make it easier. But when the third day into the second month without her came, the sound of her footsteps behind your seated form infront of the fireplace echoed against the soft rum of Christian Kuria singing in the same melody as the embers that danced just there, reflecting light in your eyes. She always smelled the same, but the stablished winter and the snow that coated her dark hair made her smell a bit woodier. Glancing back above your shoulder, her blue eyes glistened down at you with unshed tears. Your eyes lowered and even with your smile, she knew that what she was about to say would, indeed, break you once and for all.  

“You didn’t come for the usual.” you started, glancing back at the fireplace. Slowly, Agatha lowered herself to the floor, siting by your side with no intention to stay for much longer. A moment passed, Harkness tried to gather her thoughts, but it felt harder with you right there. “Just...tell me. Was it worth it? Did I make you even just a tiny – little bit happy?” 

Your gaze fell on her. Agatha felt her heart squeeze, twist, turn. Love for her was never fair. Never painless. And yet, all the pain she had ever felt with you was now, caused by her own fears and wicked concepts of life. For her, she was evil. A dark force that was bound to corrupt you. 

“I can’t stay, love. I wish I could but...I am not the person you think I am. I am not capable of this. Of loving you the way you deserve.” 

You gave her a look, but took a moment to think of what she meant.  

“You think I don’t know who you are, Agatha?” you asked, and for a split second, she fell mute to your intense eyes and the strength you held without even trying. “I’ve known you for the moment we met. Witch killer. The succubus witch. Many bodies on your bag. But none of that ever made me love you less. Or be mistaken by the haziness of your past. I chose to see you. Who you are to me.” 

“People don’t change like this, darling. Not even with the most deserving person by their side. I’ll hurt you...” 

Your body moved a bit, turning to her for the first time. There was no intention of touching her like all the times one of your needed comfort.  

“You have been coming and going for years. This house, my soul, are embedded with you. Every moment. Every laugh. I never asked for this, but my life has become ours. And any other person would be fuming at your right now. Crying, screaming. But I’m here, just trying to make you understand that life is hurtful. Wherever there’s truthfulness, openness, there’s bound to be even a bit of pain. You are feeling it right now. I can see it...” you scooted closer and touched her face, thumb gently reaching to caress under her eye, where a stray tear scaped as she closed it. “But I trust you, Agatha. I trust that you love me even with no word said. And I trust that even with the things you have done, even with the person that you are outside our sacred space... You’ll care for me.” 

“Darling...” she tried, but her voice cracked, horse and emotional. For the first time, Agatha cried. Fully.  

“You know I'm right. Deep down, you know it.” carefully, your forehead touched hers. She held you closer, as if letting go would break her too. “You are doing it right now, aren’t you? Trying to protect me from you. But let me tell you, my love...I don’t need protection from you. Whatever happens, i trust you. I will remain.” 

Agatha’s nails dig into your wrist as you held her face. Eyes opening to meet yours, a sparkle felt too hopeful to contain. Agatha knew she could never change who she was. And love, more times than not, tried to forcedly tame her. But not you. You held all her complexity between your palms, and loved it all. Maybe that was why she feared this. Tearing you apart. But as she let your words consume her, her shoulders fell, her lips gently pecked yours and she sniffled. Tamed. She was tamed. But not the way she feared to be.  

She would hurt anyone to keep you safe. To keep you with her.  

“Don’t go.” you simply asked as she pulled you in, adjusting your body flushed to hers on her lap.  

“I won’t, Darling.” she kissed your hair, hugging you close before whispering like a secret she was ready to share. “I love you.” 

[a-simple-imagine]

Don’t They know a Rabbit Can’t Cry - a life once lived

synopsis: ye olden era. The reader is sick so Agatha and Rio look after her but it begins to cause tension between the trio

pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Words: 5.1k+

A/N - you don’t have to read this to follow the main story it’s just me writing whatever I want. This can also be a stand alone. I have a few ideas as to why the reader might be immortal but I can't decide which one I prefer??

WARNINGS - Sickness, brief mention of blood and dying. not period accurate

The luminous sun and rhythmic chirps of overhead birds should have made for the backdrop to a lovingly peaceful afternoon. After days held up in her stuffy cabin, you had pleaded with Agatha to let you go outside. She agreed, eventually, when you convinced her that it would be good to get some fresh air. So the two of you (mostly Agatha) set up a homemade blanket of a deep maroon colour by the side of the lake. Agatha sits reading some dusty old book she's been obsessing over for the past two days. Her legs make for the perfect makeshift pillow as you bask in the warm rays of bright sunlight; drifting. A faint throbbing in the front of your skull. A rattle in your chest with each careful breath. Body heavy. Tired eyes search for hers as you shift somewhat, making sure she knows you are awake.

"how are you feeling?" a question you hear far too often as of late. A soft groan slips into the air as you wrap your arms around her waist. Burying your face in the fabric of her skirt. It was warm. Fresh. Comforting. a faint floral scent that tickles your nose. "oh, sweet girl," a hand comes to trace lightly over your back. "should we head back?" in truth, you probably should but being inside was driving you crazy even if most of your time was spent sleeping.

"no," answered quickly, muffled against her clothes. "I like being out here,"

"I know you do but the chill on the breeze will do nothing for you," Agatha explains. "you should be warm in bed."

"I am plenty warm," it wasn't a particularly cold day. Signs of autumn were only just starting to show. Green leaves beginning to morph into beautiful reds and yellows. A slight cold beginning to infect the wind. Daylight grows shorter. Agatha was right though. The chill was affecting you more than you cared to admit but your stubbornness outweighed her use of logic. "a while longer. please?"

A few stray pats on the back as the older woman gives in. "fine but just until the sun begins to set." the deep blue sky suggests that sunset wouldn't be for a while now so you agree to her terms. Stifling a yawn, you look up at her but her attention is already back on that stupid old book. Bound in a strange leather jacket with symbols you don't understand the book is rather small in size but from this angle covers her face. The pounding in your head becomes a little less intense as you adjust to the bright light of the waking world. You try not to move around too much but your body seeps with discomfort. Shuffling against the blanket, your eyes drift towards the lake. Minuscule waves twinkling in the daytime light. It was slowly becoming too cold to swim these days. Not that you would feel up to it even if it wasn't. It does make for a nice view during picnics or moments of rest.

"What are you reading?" you question, poking the bottom of the book with your pointer finger.

"do you actually want to know or are you merely seeking attention?" her book lowers revealing her twinkling eyes. You debate telling the truth.

"I would like to know," you offer a slight smile. There's a short pause before the book lowers so you can see the pages too. They're yellowed and bent but eligible.

"it is about old magic and healing runes," your finger traces the large symbol on the right page before flipping it over. Even now the idea of magic was still new to you or more so the fact witches weren't ugly, evil women who worshipped the devil and practised dark magic. Agatha possessed magic, rio too; neither of them seemed particularly evil and they were some of the most beautiful people you've come to know.

"healing runes?" you repeat. Smile fading somewhat, you look up to Agatha through your lashes.

Agatha nods a little. A delicate smile. "it is quite interesting. You may read it next if you like. Although I know you prefer stories of fantasy." she closes the book, resting it on your chest. "what is wrong?"

You shake your head. Such a subtle change in expression, you are surprised she even noticed. "I am just tired," she watches you. And for a second you think she is about to push further but alas the subject falls to the wayside.

"As long as you're sure"

There is a moment of pause before you nod. Agatha returns to her book and you adjust so you're staring out ahead of you both. A sense of guilt mixed with an already unsettled stomach. "Agatha," your voice hushed. Almost like you don't want her to hear but she does.

"yes, bunny?"

"do you think I will get better soon?"

"of course."

"do you promise?" you glance up at her but she is once again hidden behind those pages.

"you will not rid of me so easily"

"not sure you have a choice in the matter," but lips curl into a smile. "I hope Rio returns soon."

"as do I," Agatha agrees ultimately setting the book aside when she realises she's not gonna get silence from you. "she can be your pillow for a while."

"do you not wish to bring me comfort?"

"I wish nothing more," Agatha admits, a hand brushing your cheek. "I just would also like feeling in my legs."

With great exertion, you push up. Haze clouding the front of your head. "if I am a bother you can just say,"

"do not push yourself," Agatha expresses. "I speak merely in jest."

"I am sorry for being such a burden."

"you are no such thing."

"but you would tell me if I was?" Agatha nods but you still doubt her words. She was much too kind to admit such things. At least to you anyway.

"rest, my sweet, I am fine."

You lay back down, getting comfortable once more. "can you sing something?"

"Like what?"

You shrug. "anything. Surprise me." her body shakes with a chuckle before her voice fills the space. It's light. It's joyful. It's... "pitchy."

She taps your forehead gently. "if you want me to sing you must keep those comments to yourself." a little chuckle, quickly killed by a cough.

"Sorry. Please continue." and she does. It is a melody you don't recognise. Words you have never heard. But they're soft. Gentle. And wrapped in enough feeling to let your mind drift off.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had first fallen ill and yet you continue to suffer. Normally it would go away rather quickly. Whether naturally or with the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, Agatha tried using her magic but it didn't help. Healing just wasn't her speciality. Rio was much better at it but she had been away working for a long while now. You know with each passing day you grow more tired. Even on days when you feel a little better. The day is a little brighter. You know deep down it is temporary. But tomorrow will be worse. After every up comes a seemingly even worse down. Agatha worries for you. She pretends not to. Hides behind frivolous songs and bowls of soup you struggle to keep down but it's there when she thinks you're not looking. It's evident in her small sighs or the fade of her smile. Eyes that look at you like it very well might be the last time. You agreed to stay inside today. Largely too tired and achy to face the outside world. So instead you stay snuggled up in bed while Agatha goes about her day. You're uncertain of the time when you wake again. Weary eyes reluctantly opened to a much too bright cabin. Your head aches. Your limbs hurt. A muted groan as you nuzzle against the pillow. And then you hear her. Agatha. But she's not alone. Another voice that you would recognise anywhere. You rub your eyes as you force yourself up.

"Rio?" a meek inquiry comes out before a chesty cough that shakes your whole body. "you... have returned?"

Rio moves to sit at your bedside. "to see you,"

"you should be resting bunny," Agatha walks up behind Rio. "did we wake you?"

You nod slowly. The pounding in your head was only made nastier by the movement. "you were arguing?"

They glance between each other and then back at you. "how are you feeling?"

"I am fine," you declare, "happy you have come home."

"hmm," she seizes your chin with her hand pushing your head from left to right. Eyes boring into you. "you are lying."

"I am not," you try to shake out of her grasp but it hurts and you can't disguise it. "just a little tired."

"Oh," her grip a little tighter. "so Agatha is the liar? She tells me you have fallen ill."

You shrug a little. "maybe,"

"If it is just resting you need then," Rio lets go, "then sleep."

"But you have just come back," you insist. "I am fine. promise."

"bunny," a clear firm tone advising you to not overdo it. You sigh softly, laying back down.

"I am sorry I didn't have flowers waiting. I have not felt up to it,"

Rio laughs, standing up and tugging the covers back over you. "sleep."

You shut your eyes. Curling up into the warmth of the bed. A stillness envelopes the room. "Rio, will you still be here when I wake?"

"of course," she ensures. You focus on sleeping. Their voices are now but a whisper it's hard to make out their conversation. You periodically hear your name. It matters not.

It hurts deep and sharp in your stomach dragging you from your restless sleep. A cry crawled up your throat. Your eyes open to darkness. It's late. Agatha sleeps beside you. Rio on the other. "bunny?" a tired voice, as Agatha sits up in bed. You collapse into her arms; seeking comfort and her skills. "I got you." this wasn't the first night you had woken up feeling like your stomach was going to explode. Such strong cramping and nausea bring tears to the eyes. The only relief came from Agatha using her purple. She holds you close to her chest. Rocking back and forth slowly. "You are okay."

"what's wrong?" Rio's voice comes later. Less urgency. Waking up a little later.

"help her," Agatha demands

"I can't- what do you want me to do?"

"soothe her," Agatha instructs. "I used my purple already and have not been able to leave her alone."

"Agatha,"

"Rio," she shoots back. "it is simple. There are no rules against this." she shoves you away from her and nausea settles in your stomach. You haven't consumed anything today so there was nothing that could come back up. It would just be gross and toxic. "lay back down. Rio will help make it better," she doesn't wait for a response. A hand against your chest lowers your back against the bed. They exchange a look. "just place your hands on her stomach. Please." Rio eventually does as instructed. Her hand drifts gradually over your lower stomach. A tingling left in its wake, the pain fading. You roll onto your side and seek comfort in Agatha once more. She wraps you up in her arms. "is that a little better?" you nod against her. "do you want me to rub your back?" and again you nod. "do not empty your stomach over me like last time," it makes you smile a little. Agatha shuffles down the bed so she's lying down too. Allowing you to rest against her side. A gentle hand running up and down in slow motion. "go back to sleep, my love."

"how long has this been happening?" rio wonders.

"Long enough," Agatha answers. "you should rest too. She will be fine until morning."

When you wake up the next day, their absences are notable. Your head feels fuzzy but you're grateful that your stomach has resolved at least a little. "Agatha," you call out but instead rio arrives at your bedside, a cup in hand.

"Agatha has gone out," your brow furrows.

"out where- when will she return?" you haven't been without her for a couple of weeks now and the idea unsettles you.

"calm yourself," Rio murmurs. "she'll be back soon enough, now drink,"

"no," replied sharply.

"you must,"

"I do not want to,"

"it will make you feel better,"

"no," you shove her hand away, and some of the liquid slips over the edge. "I don't want any. Where is Agatha?"

A sigh from Rio, "It was Agatha who insisted you must drink some,"

"I do not want it," you huff. "it always comes back up,"

"a small sip and we can be done,"

You watch her before snatching the cup. A small sip of tea. It's warm and earthy. Like drinking soil. You cough as it goes down before handing the cup back. You fall back against the bed and snuggle into the covers. "can we go for a walk?"

"I don't know if that is a good idea?"

"a short one. Just to the far side of the meadow?"

Rio agrees. It's easy to get your way when you're sick. She has a supportive arm around you the whole way letting you collect flowers every now and then. They always looked a little brighter when Rio came home. Like they grew just for her. Once you felt you had enough, she brought you back to sit on the front porch. A blanket draped over your shoulders to protect you from the chill. Each flower is carefully laid out in front of you. Rio is sitting in Agatha's chair. Bouncing a leg and seemingly carving some wood with her blade. "Will Agatha return in the morning?"

"I do not know," Rio responds. "do you not like it being just us?"

"I do, it is just strange being here without Agatha," you express. "this is her home."

"it is our home," Rio corrects. "I just have to travel."

"I know," you reply, glancing at her. Rio was always back and forth in a way Agatha never was. Everything about this place you have come to associate with Agatha and Agatha alone rather than Rio. It was Agatha's chair that she always sat in to have her morning tea. "I hope she returns soon."

"not even a full day without her and you already seek her company once more?" there was a playful edge to Rio's words. "do you miss me as easily?"

"I always miss you," you answer. Each flower was carefully laid out before you. Organised by colour rather than type. You pick one up a purple one. Twisting it between the pads of your forefinger and thumb. "But it is different when Agatha leaves because it is a surprise. What if something happens? I am too ill to assist."

"I will deal with anything," Rio answered back. "I am capable of being left alone and looking after you. Besides she will not be long."

She will not be long? That could mean anything. days. Weeks. Months. You couldn't go months without seeing Agatha. "why didn't she tell me she was leaving?"

"she did not want to worry you. It would not serve you well," Rio explains.

"sneaking away is not better," you huff, stems of green now crushed.

"I am just giving you an explanation," you glance at the wood shavings that surround the other woman. So messy. "I know as much as you." a heavy sigh. There was more to this than they were willing to share but you don't push. Settling for the explanation Rio shared. "are your parents not worried?"

"they do," you hum. Of course, they are worried. "but they trust Agatha as a healer."

"they don't know the truth? Agatha is no healer."

"they would trust Agatha regardless," you explain. "we spend most free time together."

"I forget you two are inseparable," Rio muses softly. Almost sadly. You wouldn't exactly say you are inseparable but you do spend a lot of time together. It made sense. You had lived a pretty sheltered life at home in the woods. The nearest little village wanted pretty much nothing to do with you outside of your business. You only really went to visit the bakery or haggle for supplies. More often than not you're met with dirty looks and hushed whispers. Mean-spirited comments on a bad day. Agatha gave you company outside of just your family. She was beautiful and caring and wanted to spend time with you. She didn't think you were weird or strange but then again she was what a lot of people feared. The only difference between your relationship with Agatha and your relationship with Rio is time.

"you are never here,"

"you exaggerate,"

You shake your head just a little, focused on the crown you are making. "I do not, I-" A tickle in your throat brings a cough from deep within your chest. Loud and dry. Painful. It seems like maybe it'll pass as you grab the handkerchief Agatha insisted you always carried. It was ivory white with hand-sewn stems of green and pretty flowers lining the edges of each corner. But the tickle persists. Spreading through your throat; any attempt to avoid resulting in watery eyes. Rio is immediately knelt by your side. A curious brow. "you okay?" probably not. Giving into the dire need to rid yourself of the feeling in your throat. Each cough builds with a sense of desperation. Raw and dry. Burning from the inside. a much-needed moment of respite seemingly out of reach. You can't stop. A hand slapping against your back is unexpected; it was forceful but not enough to hurt. An attempt to help. The green witch repeats the action a few more times. A body starved of air. It helps. Profound breaths as your eyes flicker to Rio. Wide eyes convey a semblance of concern to her otherwise calm demeanour. Fist tightens around fabric now stained with tiny dots of red and shoved out of view. "we should get you inside."

"I... am fine..." you lie between breaths. You were no better off inside than out. It was merely an attempt to get you back into bed. It's not like being inside was helping in any way.

"That was not fine," Rio insists. Her hand still rests on your back.

"Rio... please..." fixated on the flowers. An almost finished crown. A moment ruined by this unexpected illness. You breathe deeply. Leaning in, the other plants a kiss delicately against your temple.

"Agatha would kill me if something happened to you." whispered against the skin. Warmth shivering through your veins.

You reach for her arm, carefully pulling it away from your body. A shaky small smile on your lips. "it is okay." even with reassurance, you can sense her reluctance to leave you be. A sign she cared too much. Returning to her spot in Agatha's chair not too far away, you can feel her eyes still on you. Watching and waiting. You are grateful Agatha was not here right now to make a fuss. She worries over every little thing. She also probably would have dragged you back inside if she had to. Silence falls as you return to your hobbies. Just a little too uneasy to speak in case another coughing fit occurs. However, with silence comes uneasy thoughts. Thoughts about Agatha leaving you alone with Rio. A sickness that just won't stop. A green witch forced to look after you. "rio?" she just hums some kind of response. "can I ask your opinion on something?"

"If it is about your crown then I will be biased," she urges. "I always like it when your creativity includes flowers."

"it is about Agatha,"

"Is she all you ever talk about?"

"I am serious," you reply.

"what about Agatha?"

"do you think," a moment of hesitation. "she grows tired of me? Is that why she left without saying anything?"

"where does this come from?" rio wonders. Fingers fiddling with the leaves plucked from flower stems. "you are her most precious person,"

"that is not true," it makes you laugh a little. Compared to her relationship with Rio, yours was just a drop in the ocean. You also weren't anything like them. Rio was teasing and confident. A force of nature you weren't sure you would ever figure out. Agatha was commanding but caring. She had a real nacht for making you feel like the most important person in the world. Not to mention they were both witches. They could do remarkable things. You felt like a burden to both of them regardless of your sickness. "she has you."

"she does," Rio agrees. You tear the edge of the leaf pulling straight through until you're left with two parts. "but that does not make you any less than. Why would you think otherwise?"

A shrug of your shoulders. Tearing the rest of the leaf up into tiny pieces and sprinkling them on the ground. "I am not like you. She does so much for me and now she must do even more because of this stupid illness," it wasn't your fault you had gotten sick but that didn't stop you from feeling guilty. So much time was spent reading books about healing. Or making special teas of different soups. Even just ensuring you're comfortable was a challenge that wasted her magic. "she must grow tired."

"you will be better soon."

"you do not know that. Agatha does not know that. I am not even sure I believe that anymore," With a soft sigh, you pluck a petel from its flower. So small. So soft. So delicate. "I wish I could make things better so she does not have to waste energy worrying about me."

"my love," Rio comes to sit beside you on the porch. She takes the plant you have been destroying from your hands. "It is not wasted."

"easy for you to say" you snap. A bitter tone. Rio does not understand. How could she? You get that she has to work and it's important to her but still. How could she possibly understand what it's like for Agatha? or even you? "You're never here."

An arm snakes over your shoulders allowing Rio to pull you against her. and despite your attitude, you melt into the embrace. Your anger is such a confusing emotion. You wish she was around more. You wish you weren't such a burden for Agatha. You wish you weren't sick anymore. A deep breath, you find comfort in the other woman's earthy scent. The way she cradles you against her side. A soft kiss was placed upon your head. "eres todo para mi," whispered against you before she pulled back. "we just want the best for you. This sickness will not last forever."

"so you say," s soft sigh. One way or another this will end but you might just not be around for the latter. A silence settles. Rio is content with sitting on the floor beside you now as she works with wood. You have no clue what she is making. You continue to fiddle with flower stems and small twigs. Weaving them into a beautiful circle to wear. You have had a lot of practice.

"it grows late. We should head inside." you brush yourself off as you stand. Offering a small smile. "for you," the crown of flowers placed gently on her head before she stands too. "I hope you will stay for a while this time."

A gentle smile. "remember how I said I would always return if you will it?" rio reaches for your hand, placing something small and hard in between your palm and hers. "I am grateful you called." her hand slips from yours and she heads for the door. You glance at what she gave you. a small rabbit made of creamy-coloured wood. It was a little jagged in places but no less cute. "come," Rio calls. She stands in the doorway waiting. "I will make us some tea."

Agatha does not return in the morning nor the one after. Rio has been on the receiving end of your bad attitude. Everything was just off. Tea a little too hot. Soup a little too thick. You know it's not her fault; your anger is misguided but irritation was more abundant when your body ached. A constant reminder of how much you just wanted Agatha to return. You missed her dearly. She knew how you liked things. She was much more tender than Rio and that's what you needed when sick. Tenderness. a gentle touch. Rio was trying but it was just grating. It is almost a week before you see her again. She brings all kinds of things with her but mainly herbs. And most importantly her magic. Her purple. She explains that the reason behind her trip was to recharge. Whatever that means. You didn't quite understand how it worked. However, the older witch's return may bring more attempts at comfort. More tea with supposed healing properties. But it does not bring better days. Your sickness seems never-ending. Seeping into your bones. Aches in every muscle. a raging fever. Short little sips of water every minute or so are the only thing that doesn't make you nauseous. Agatha still makes you tea but it's rare you ever drink it. Most days are now spent in bed drifting. Agatha does not dare leave again. Instead sending Rio off on silly errands.

The sun hangs low in the sky. The light in the cabin beginning to dim. You sit upright in bed, cradled in Agatha's too-tight embrace. Her grip on you was bruising. Almost painful. They were arguing. Again. that is all they seem to do these days. The constant back and forth makes your head hurt. You have tried to get them to stop and sometimes they will at least while you are awake. Today is different though. The air feels heavier. Suffocating. Take deep weighted breaths that rattle your chest: your lungs burning. Agatha feels different too. Angrier. More aggressive. Desperate. Rio walks closer, handing over a cup to Agatha.

"This is too hot, she will not drink," Agatha shoves it back. Rio sighs heavily. She could do nothing right these days according to Agatha. Everything was wrong. Her tone is ever so harsh.

"it will cool in time,"

"you could just do it right in the first place," Agatha mutters quietly. "leave it to one side. I will retrieve it later."

"fine," there is silence fora wink before you hear the door. "I am going to tend to the gardens. I will return later." you feel a breeze against your cheek. Cold and brisk. "the mint should be ready."

"no," Agatha urges. "I'm sorry, don't."

"I won't be long. The mint will do her some good."

"you must stay," Agatha insists. "I... I cannot do this alone."

"Whatever do you mean?" if it's a genuine question, it's undercut by an overly sarcastic tone. It was understandable. A breeze cut off by the closing door. "you did not want my help before. I can do nothing correct."

"please rio... just stay," Agatha squeezes you gently and you look up to her. "I... I worry for her."

"I know but-"

"no," snapped. Her grip somehow tenser. You cough a little. "you don't- you do not understand. I fear she needs more than I can give her but you..."

"Agatha," there's a tenderness to Rio's voice despite Agatha's tone. "you know I cannot."

"you have the means to help her,"

"it is forbidden,"

"And since when were rules your priority?" Agatha shoots back. "you share this home with me- this relationship with us. Does that not go against everything?"

"it is not the same thing," Rio responds calmly. "and you know that,"

"It matters not," Agatha sighs. "Rio, please. She gets worse each day and you're the only one who can do anything."

"my love-"

"Don't!" she cautions sharply. "I do not want to hear excuses."

You nuzzle against the older witch's chest,a weak groan. Willing her to quell the arguing. "Agatha," mumbled softly from your lips but she did not pay you much attention even as you tugged on the fabric of her blouse.

"Rio, please," anguish in her voice. You feel the bed dip.

"Agatha. You cannot expect more than I am capable of," Rio's voice was closer now. Agatha's body shifts moving you with her in the process. It's sudden. Makes your head spin.

"do you not value her?" Agatha questions. "lover her?"

"you know I do,"

"then do something- anything," Agatha pleads. "what use is your power if to not help the few who care for you?"

A hand comes to your forehead. It's cold so it must belong to Rio. "she is weak."

"I know," Agatha nods a little. "I- I cannot lose her Rio."

"but the end is not guaranteed." her hand shifts lower, thumb skimming against your cheek. "there is still a chance.”

You begin to drift again. Listening to Agatha's heart beating in her chest. A soothing sound. "leave," Agatha huffs.

"my dear-"

"Now," Agatha snaps. "go... tend to the garden since you care so little." Rio doesn't argue. And doesn't defend herself. You feel her rise from the bed and then the breeze once more. A loud band and suddenly you are alone with Agatha. Her body relaxed as if she had been guarding you from Rio.

"I am sorry," you express gradually. Your voice but a whisper into the early night. "it is my fault you are fighting."

"do not say such foolish things," Agatha hums. "Rio is persistent. She cares more for her duty than anything."

"her duty?"

"I am sorry I cannot heal you," Agatha replies. "I have tried everything but-."

"you do not need to apologise for anything," you interrupt. Tears beginning to form. This was all your fault. You cannot get better. You cannot stop them fighting. And now Agatha blames herself. You never wished to bring hurt to either of them. "maybe if I rest some more, I will get better."

"I am..." she lets out a shaky breath. "sure you will."

"Agatha?"

"yes, bunny,"

"Do not hate Rio," you express warmly, shutting your eyes as you nestle against the older witch. She is trying her best. And sometimes that is not enough, but at least she is trying."

// NEXT

[regencyrosalie]

biblically accurate modern!husband!anthony hc’s 🤍

first post here ! <3 i hope u love it <3

- anthony “i love my wife” bridgerton trying to go about his daily life when he quite literally wants to stay in bed all day with you.

- anthony is THE lightest sleeper on earth. if you get up at night, you’ll come back to the bedroom and hes just sitting up in bed half asleep like 🧍🏻‍♂️

- speaking of, if you even want to get up, you’ll have to wriggle out of his death grip. he will hold onto you throughout the entire night, and if it’s hot, he’ll make sure to have a hand sprawled across the bed onto you.

- sometimes you have to remind him to back off a little because he genuinely acts like you might die every time you leave the house

- insists you call/text him (preferably call) when you arrive at at wherever you’re going so he know you didn’t get hit by a car or something on the way there

- speaking of, Anthony texts like he he does not understand what a phone is.

- quite literally really only uses his dad’s old desk phone and emails. he owns an iphone 7 that is usually sitting in the back of his bedside drawer for days at a time.

- he loves all of his siblings equally, but Hyacinth has him wrapped around her finger at all times.

- will do pretty much anything for his wife, but is much more firm with his siblings.

- which is why every time they need something and you aren’t around, Hyacinth is sent to give him her best puppy eyes. he folds almost instantly every time without fail.

- genuinely does not really have many “friends” that aren’t also family. he used to in college, but he just doesn’t find it necessary anymore, and also doesn’t have the time.

- he has reading glasses. enough said.

- scared of bugs.

- talks about pretty much everything with Benedict, who he’s probably closest with in his family besides his mother.

- used to play with/take care of Hyacinth as a baby when Violet was grieving.

- sometimes struggles to pronounce big words when he’s arguing and it pisses him off so much he has to leave the room.

- likely has most of his siblings set up with a therapist, but doesn’t get one for himself until his wife tells him to.

- all of his spaces are organized meticulously, usually by color or number order.

- will check to make sure every door to the house is locked at least three times before going to bed.

- which can take up to an hour when staying at Aubrey Hall.

- we all see how he softened in season 3. his siblings tease him about it sometimes, but they’re all delighted. and he couldn’t care less. he thinks he is the luckiest man on earth and rolls his eyes every time he thinks of how angsty he was.

- if you have children, he’s the most loving father in the world. will wear a tutu if the need arises.

- he can’t have you in his office for more than thirty minutes or he gets distracted.

- he didn’t cry for years after his dad died, and now he cries about once a month.

- most animals love him for some reason.

- has nightmares relatively frequently after edmund dies, but they die down as he gets older.

- favorite color is navy blue. changes to light blue once he’s married.

- good with babies and toddlers from when hyacinth was little.

- you make him take breaks while he works everyday, and they become his favorite parts of the day. you bring him tea and sit in his lap and pet his hair, sometimes he falls asleep. he tells you to wake him up but you never do.

- still uses an alarm clock.

- refuses to leave bed until ten am every day.

- smells like sandalwood and cinnamon.

- idk why but i feel like he fucking LOVES sudoku puzzles.

- but dont ever ask him to do a real puzzle thats more than 50 pieces or he may start crying.

- type of mf to read actual newspapers.

- no one in the family has serious allergies, but he still keeps an epi pen everywhere just in case.

[wosoragebaiter69]

BEACH!

barça femeni x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: i have cricket training today :( and my family decided to act like we were in an episode of the kardashians yesterday

TW: Coarse Language

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Today was going to be a fun day, the team were going to the beach for a couple days. Because… well why not? I’ve always loved the beach so when I was asked if I wanted to come, there is no other answer other than yes.

I look out to the white sandy beach, it’s so inviting and immediately run over with my stuff. Alexia, Marta and Irene do most of the carrying but some of the older girls carry some things as well. Not me though.

I place my items on the ground and take the time to actually look around. We’re in a cove, it’s pretty secluded, there’s a beach house we’re staying in for the next few days and it’s pretty big considering we all have to stay in it. We agreed that us younger girls could go straight to the beach while the older girls do all the other boring stuff.

Jana jumps on my back and I stumble forward into the ground beneath me.

“Janaaaa” I whine.

“Whattt.” She mocks me.

“This place is GORGEOUS.” She remarks looking around at the cliffs, crystal clear water and slight rainforest.

“I know right, so many fun things to do. What first?” I ask, her eyes light up.

“We should swim and find any cool areas that we can hide away from overbearing people.” She smirks.

“That’s a great idea, let’s go!” I run into the water, feeling the cool liquid against the heat of summer I felt before. I dive in when just deep enough, Jana is behind me. Patri and Pina are chasing each other on the shore as Bruna and Salma film them.

I swim to the edge of the cove where the cliffs are and after some swimming I come across a cave system.

“Jana! Look, a cave!” She swims over and looks at the small cave, it’s enough to fit a couple people and has a little beach, just out of sight from the main shore.

“Woah, we could have like a campfire here at night.”

“You think Alexia would let us leave? No chance Jana.” She sighs.

“There’s a thing called sneaking out and we both know she goes to sleep at like 10pm.” I stare at her with a blank expression.

“Ok, let’s go back now. I saw JetSkis and want to ride one. We probably need ‘adult supervision’ though.” She nods her head and we make our way back to shore.

- - - - -

“Where were you two?” Ingrid says as Jana and I walk up and out of the water.

“Swimming.” I say, she looks disappointed.

“Maybe stay where we can see you so Alexia doesn’t freak out. You’re lucky she’s keeping occupied with her own stuff.” She shakes her head.

“Sorry Ingrid.” Jana says but the Norwegian just smiles.

“It’s ok, I just don’t want to feel the wrath of Alexia come down on me or anyone.” I nod in understanding then Mapi walks out of the house in her own bikini. I notice Ingrid’s gaze on her.

“You guys make me sick.” I make a gagging noise and turn away.

“You will learn one day nena.” Mapi wraps her arm around me.

“I hope not. Anyways, could we go on one of those JetSkis? Pleaseeee.” I ask and she immediately agrees.

“Yayy, vamosss!” Jana goes to speak with Bruna as Mapi and I walk over to where the 2 water mobiles are parked.

“Ok so am I driving or are you?” She asks.

“Could I?” She nods.

“I’ll teach you, get on and let’s do this thing.” She instructs me to get on and turn the JetSki on. She then says to initially take it slow because going to fast straight away will make the vehicle unstable. I do as told and slowly get faster.

“This is fun!” I say, as waves crash over the top of us.

“You’ve got it nena! Now you can go a little faster if you leave this cove, are you ok with that?” I eagerly nod my head and speed up to where there’s more water and less land.

We drive pretty fast as we crash into different waves and water splashes all over us, it’s really such a euphoric experience.

As the fuel starts running low, Mapi guides me back to where we are needed, the sun has started to set by now and everyone is chilling either in the water, on the beach or on the beach house patio.

We make our way up the shore and I’m exhausted, people are very right when they say JetSkiing is tiring. I plonk on the ground next to Keira and place my head against her shoulder.

“Bit tired are ya?” She says laughing slightly.

“Damn JetSkis man, so tiring.” I grumble.

“Well, I heard dinner will be soon. Not sure who’s making it since we’re all here but who knows.” She pats my leg and Lucy walks over.

“Hey kid, wanna play volleyball? We don’t have enough players on our team and I have selected you.” Suddenly feeling a burst of energy, I nod and follow her.

On our team is Salma, Ona, Lucy, Frido and I. On the other side is Patri, Claudia, Jana, Esmee and Cata. Bruna has made herself the referee.

“Lucy I’m not sure why you chose me because I’ve never played volleyball in my life.”

“Doesn’t your school offer it?” She questions.

“Just because my school offers it does not mean I do it. It clashes with tennis season!” Even though I play football, tennis has also been a big part of my life and I still play competitively.

“Well kid, use that hand eye coordination with your arms and you’ll be right.” I nod and get ready.

It’s a pretty nice game, it’s close but our team is winning, everything is going smoothly until Cata hits a ball too hard and heads straight for my nose. I fall back.

“Ow.” I whimper and feel liquid run down my face.

“Shit!” Lucy whispers.

“You alright kid? Move your hand away from your nose.” I nod half-heartedly and remove my hands.

“Oof, Alexia’s gonna freak!” As her name is said, she magically appears out of nowhere and leans down narrowing her eyes.

“Come on, you’re not playing anymore.” I open my mouth to argue but she shuts it down.

“Bye guys! By losers!” I shout to the other team who look slightly off-put.

Alexia takes me inside making sure I’ve got all the sand off before. She leads me to a bathroom and gets a first aid kit.

“Not broken but I will ice it for now. Ok?” I nod, knowing not to mess or argue with her.

After she wipes my face and clears the area, she takes a small ice pack and places it against my nose, taping it down.

“No more volleyball for today, come sit with me and the others and we can talk about anything you like. I think dinner is ready anyways.” I smile.

“Ok, thanks Ale.”

“Anytime.” She kisses my forehead. “Ready to go?” She takes my hand and we go out where food is set on the table and the others have came back from where they were.

The dinner is chaotic, nothing unusual for the girls. It’s a homely feeling to be here with each one of them. Mapi nudges me gently and slides over a small glass of wine.

“Drink. I say it’s a great day to get you to try it, have some fun nena. I spoke to Ale and she’s fine because it’s under supervision even if you and I both know it isn’t your first.” I blush and nod taking it.

“Thanks Maps.” She nods patting my back and I take a sip. It doesn’t taste bad. Mapi smirks and cheers go down the table.

This team and life is everything one could ask for.

[bibliophilesince2003]

Transformers One In-Depth Review

Transformers One is a must watch.

I’m tired of seeing a bad review go towards a movie that is actually extremely well done, especially if the reviewer hadn’t taken the time to watch it or considered the trailers enough content to draw a review from.

Seriously, it was so refreshing to see a new take on a franchise that has been around for years. In my personal opinion, it’s better than re-makes that offer even less room for creativity.

I am a huge Transformers fan. I grew up with Transformers Prime, and when I was older, I watched the movies. I’ve watched other shows here and there, and while I may not be a complete expert, I know the lore well enough to have been heavily, emotionally impacted by Transformers One.

I’ll start with the "non-spoiler take" followed by the "spoiler take” which will be “hidden” for those who do not want to be spoiled.

"Non-spoiler" take...

Peter Cullen’s voice is legendary. Chris Hemsworth himself acknowledged this in an interview, mentioning that the goal was to “re-create” and “do something new.” He intended to represent a “youthful, brash, and cocky version” of Orion Pax before he was known as Optimus Prime. This is a realistic representation. In Transformers Prime, Ratchet states that Optimus Prime was more like Jack in his youth. For those of you who don’t know, Jack is a strong-willed, selfless, but slightly impulsive teenager, as all teenagers should be. It is clear that Hemsworth has evaluated “hints” that other movies and shows have provided. Hemsworth wanted to “lean into” a more serious voice towards the end of Transformers One. He insisted “he wouldn’t dare mimic Peter Cullen.” I highly respect his choices, and he does not deserve the amount of hate thrown at him. Now, Orion Pax also comes across as a humble, soft-spoken character in other movies and shows. However, I can see why they would lean into his impulsiveness to better highlight and contrast the relationship between Orion Pax and D-16, especially as D-16’s true colors show. More about that in the “spoiler” section, though!

No, it would not have made sense for Orion Pax to have a deep, majestic voice. That comes with experience; that comes with hard decisions. Quite honestly, Hemsworth is pretty close to what I had imagined Orion Pax to sound like. It’s still slightly deep, and very soothing.

The character development in this movie? Oh. My. Word. Guys, as a writer, I can say that subtle character development – the best kind – is not easy to do. In Transformers One, it flowed naturally. It made me smile. It broke my heart. If you’ve seen other Transformers movies and shows, brace yourself. If you haven’t, still brace yourself. Again, more about that in the “spoiler” section.

The humor in the trailers has been re-posted so heavily I think it’s beginning to lose its effect and people, not knowing the context, are quick to judge. Yes, Bee is funny. It’s Bee. He’s supposed to be lovable, humorous, loyal, and powerful. I found no issue with most of the humor coming from him. There is more humor that is not mentioned in the trailers that is really worth chuckling over.

Finally, the fight scenes were clean, the animation was captivating, and the incredible Brian Tyler produced musical masterpieces for most every scene, some of it connecting to other movies and shows.

"Spoiler" take, now!

I expected to dislike Elita. Really, I did. I knew she was the “love interest” for Optimus Prime beforehand and expected big things from her, because Optimus Prime never struck me as having a “love interest” in the past. Not only that, but I expected her to be the female character I seem to find everywhere these days who strives to be better than everyone else without a lick of experience, complaining about the male figures in her life.

Elita, however, is ambitious. She leads. She doesn’t have to prove anything; she’s simply willing to work hard and do her job. Understandably, she gets upset with Orion Pax and the others when they interrupt her progress, though I can’t help but be amused by Orion Pax’s shy attempt to get her attention and adored his subtle acts of kindness. Sure, she’s a tad bit aggressive – she did punch Orion Pax, after all – but I really enjoyed seeing her adapt. When Orion Pax was feeling hopeless, she was there to encourage him. If she had stopped talking immediately after saying “I’m better” I would have been frustrated. Orion Pax and D-16 are the main characters in Transformers One, after all. She didn’t stop there, though. She highlighted the most important aspects of Orion Pax; his good heart, selflessness, and bravery. She told Shockwave and the others to shut up and listen to Orion Pax when they doubted his plan. She encouraged him to speak louder when others couldn’t hear him. She leaned towards the pit when Orion Pax fell.

Not only that, but Orion Pax was incredibly patient with her. He woke her up when she was unconscious and immediately took a punch to the face like a champ. He gently, subtlety smiled at her when they traveled to the surface and Elita announced "it's beautiful." He cried out her name and pushed her out of the way to save her during a battle. He listened to her. He told her to beat Arachnid “gently” when Elita managed to detain her, proving he fully understood Elita’s personality.

I’m sorry, but this kind of relationship takes the cake. If they’re meant to be a couple, I can see the signs. I love how well they work together and build each other up.

Bee is an icon. One of my favorite scenes is him eagerly saying to Orion Pax “I’m going to go cut these guys up, watch! C’MERE!” It’s like a proud kid trying to get their parent to watch. I love how loyal he is to Orion Pax right off the bat.

While they changed some lore in Transformers One, they included everything that was important. Orion Pax and D-16 are miners, but it seems Orion Pax may have been a clerk beforehand. When he broke into the archives, he seemed to know where he was going. When he ran, I can’t remember exactly, but I believe he was muttering numbers? I don’t mind the small twists and can see how they were necessary for the story; key details are kept.

Jazz and Ratchet mention! I was so excited to hear their names. Kind of wish they had shown Ratchet, maybe shouting “I needed that!” to a fumbling worker. Sorry, Transformers Prime reference.

Arachnid had an incredible design.

Sentinel is a well-written, hate-worthy villain. I… did not expect D-16 to rip him in half, though.

Also… can I just mention how epic that particular scene was? The switch from D-16 reaching his peak character development – showing no mercy – while Orion Pax reached his – making the ultimate sacrifice to preserve life and do things the right way; receiving the Matrix of Leadership. The music, the animation, the slow-motion… everything was incredibly cinematic.

Obviously, D-16 took things too far. I appreciated the fact that he didn’t just wake up one day and decide to be evil. It took time. It took motivation. Obviously, any sane person would stand with Optimus Prime, though he does make mistakes from time to time, but it was incredibly neat to actually appreciate D-16’s insight in the beginning, then notice the shift and feel every bit of emotion Orion Pax felt.

People say the ending is rushed, or that D-16’s change came too abruptly without any good motivation. Sure, the ending may be a little rushed, but movies are typically structured this way. Falling action does not have a set speed; it just needs to be well done. Bad things happen in a rush, and this leaves ample opportunity for the “good guys” to react a little too slowly. As for D-16’s motivation… even a person can take their worship of an item or figure too far. Megatronus was someone to look up to in D-16’s eyes. He agreed to Orion Pax’s plans, or at least tolerated them, but his admiration for Megatronus was his own interest. Orion Pax threatened that vision. D-16 wanted to kill Sentinel to satisfy his own needs and desires, not to liberate others. Sentinel deserved death after committing murder, yes. He didn’t, however, deserve a public execution, especially as he tried to get away and was relatively defenseless. Remember, Sentinel told D-16 and Bee that he would execute them in front of everyone. We can acknowledge his promise as brutal, so shouldn't D-16's actions be considered brutal, too? No "reason" could ever justify it.

When D-16 let Orion Pax drop, he proved he no longer cared about loyalty. The least he could do was hoist Orion Pax’s body up or break down after losing what he once called his best friend, but he didn’t.

It’s ironic… D-16 said “I’m done saving you” when in reality, Orion Pax was trying to save D-16 from doing something he knew D-16 should have regretted doing. Normally, yes, D-16 is the voice of reason, but not in this case. For once, this is where Orion Pax’s true personality shines through. His spark – the spark of a Prime – is in the right place. Orion Pax puts joking aside when serious matters arise. It seems D-16 didn’t really know his friend after all. The actions D-16 committed, my friends, are not actions you want to celebrate.

I really, really hope Transformers One gains more attention. We need the sequel! Transformers fans, tell your friends. Give an honest review, which are of more value than the reviews given by those who didn’t take the time to watch it. Hype it up and roll out!

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 4.7k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

!!! This chapter contains dialogue in High Valyrian, which will be designated by bold and italics...enjoy :)

A week had slipped away since Jaenara and her family had settled into King’s Landing. She found herself passing time by discussing plans for the upcoming coronation with her mother or entertaining little Aegon and Viserys. Occasionally, she rode out on dragonback with Baela and Rhaena, savoring the freedom of the skies above. When she was up amongst the clouds, the princess forgot all about what her life had become down below. Sitting atop Aetherion, it was as if nothing else mattered.

Yet above all, Jaenara found herself occupied with a careful dance of avoidance whenever Aemond Targaryen crossed her path. She had escaped several close calls, ducking into unoccupied rooms whenever she saw the prince at the other side of a hallway. Jaenara had often wondered to herself if she could continue to keep up this game of cat and mouse well into their marriage, but the prospect of having to constantly hide from the man who was to be her husband did sadden her. Ever so slightly. 

Currently, the princess found herself in the castle gardens walking shoulder to shoulder with Helaena. Jaenara had not had as much alone time with her aunt as she would have liked, and was eager to reconnect with the one member of the Targaryen-Hightowers she could actually stand to be around. Helaena seemed to be pleased with the company, though it was difficult for Jaenara to tell at times. Her aunt had always been a somewhat emotionally distant person, even when they were children.

“My mother tells me that the planning for Rhaenyra’s coronation is almost finished?” Helaena inquires.

Jaenara and Jacaerys had both been closely involved with the planning of their mother’s name day ceremony. The preparations had proven to be stressful, even now plaguing the princess’ mind. Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay for mother to sit the Iron Throne - Jaenara had told herself. Though, she could not say she felt the same way about the looming, permanent discomfort she would soon find herself in…

Rhaenyra had even tried to include Aegon in the ceremony planning as well. An offering for the position he had given up for his older sister. Though he had seemed less than interested, opting to disappear for hours at a time instead. Even now, Jaenara wondered where her uncle often took off to, leaving her sweet aunt and their children alone. She questioned if she would be condemned to such a fate as well - Aemond fluttering about doing gods know what while she was left to care for their babes alone. The princess decides it is best not to mull over such depressing possibilities that she may soon enough find herself in.

“Yes, her name day will be here before we know it - just a short week away. Though I find myself anxious about the festivities.” Jaenara finally responds. 

“I understand,” Helena breathes, “I am not one for crowds either.”

“Well then we must stick together until the whole ordeal is over.” Jaenara reassures her aunt. And herself.

“I would gladly,” Helaena giggles, “Though when your wedding day arrives, my brother will stand at your side, not I."

Jaenara sighed - another formality she had been dreading heavily. She’d venture to guess that the moment her mother’s name day passes, planning for the wedding will begin immediately. The princess knew that her scarcity of interactions with Aemond would not last for much longer. Not if either of their mothers could help it. 

Jaenara felt she had little to discuss with her betrothed. What else was there to say?

Helaena came to a halt, bending down to pick up a large, green beetle. Jaenara winced - she had never been one for bugs, save for the pretty butterflies she had often chased with her aunt in their youth. She watched as the beetle began to travel up Helaena’s arm. Jaenara found that Helaena looked serene, her blonde-white hair picked up by the breeze and a content smile on her lips. The princess decides to take advantage of the peaceful moment to ask her aunt a troubled question.

“What is it like? Being married, that is.” Jaenara’s face grows serious.

Helaena removes the beetle from her forearm with a gentle touch and places it on a leaf below.

“It doesn’t really feel like anything,” She says, though her aunt does not sound particularly bothered by the dreary thought, “Aegon does not pay me much mind. Save for the times we have…done our duty.”

Jaenara clears her throat awkwardly.

“So, I suppose it is not so bad. I am free to do as I please. As he is. Though I think Aemond will make a better lover.” Helaena finishes. Jaenara looks at her aunt as if she has three heads and scoffs. She looks back at the princess with a coy look on her face.

“What a terrifying thought.” Jaenara sounds defeated as the two women resume their walk. A calm silence passes over them once again, as does the gentle breeze.  

Helaena looks as though someone is speaking to her and finds herself gazing up at the sky for a moment - and then to her niece.

She smiles, as if the clouds have told her a secret.

— — —

On the far side of the Red Keep, The One Eyed Prince begins to lay the groundwork of his plan to put his soon-to-be wife on the Iron Throne. Aemond has decided he must get in the good graces of his family - especially Jacaerys - if he is to carry out familicide without raising any suspicion that he had a hand in it. Something easier said than done, Aemond knows. Any amount of decency he could afford the heir and his brother would be met with scrutiny. A few kind words will not undo years of victimization dealt on both sides. 

Aemond clenches his jaw as he searches for his nephews throughout the grounds of the Red Keep. Locating them had proven to be challenging, though not as much as finding their sister. Aemond knew that Jaenara had been purposefully avoiding him. One evening, he had even caught sight of her ducking into her mother’s chambers when he had turned a corner, entering the same hallway as her. Her elusion frustrated the prince. If he could not speak to the princess and build up a rapport with her, then she would assuredly be the first to point her finger at him when news of Jace’s murder came about.  

Just when Aemond is about to give up entirely, he spots Jacaerys and Lucerys in the training yard, wooden swords in hand. Aemond lurks back for a moment, watching them practice their drills. Their moves are quick and calculated, proving that his nephews had become even more skilled fighters during their time away from the Red Keep. Though their moves had a certain unrefined quality to them. Aemond finally moves from his spot, drawing nearer to the princes. Lucerys spots him first and mumbles a curse under his breath, as hid older brother turns to meet Aemond’s eyes. Aemond smirks at the boys, and he can tell it takes all of Jace’s strength not to throw down his play sword and saunter off. 

The prince stands tall over his nephews, to hide the uneasiness he feels about approaching them. He’s pulled his long, sleek hair into a bun. His own sword, a practice blade worn smooth from countless hours of swinging, hung loose at his side

The air is tense around the group and a short silence hangs over them. Clanking of wood and metal and grunts fills the yard as the princes all stare at each other.

Aemond finally clears his throat and breaks the quiet.

"You're both too cautious," he remarks in a voice that carries authority but also a hint of patience. "Don't overthink your strikes. Let them flow naturally. It's about instinct as much as it is about technique."

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You must think of us as fools, uncle. Why would we listen to you? You do not practice the habit of fighting honorably - Luke and I’ve both seen that.”

And what would you know about fighting honorably? Aemond remarks to himself.

Where is the honor in gouging out a boy’s eye? 

He inhales a deep breath to calm his rising frustration.

Lucerys, ever the more reserved of the two, held his ground but watched Aemond with a cautious curiosity.

Aemond knows he should not make the jest, but before he can stop himself, the words fall from his smug mouth.

“Fools? No - I only see two Strong boys before me.” 

Both of the brother’s harden their gaze. This time, Jacaerys does take off, with Luke trailing behind.

Fuck.

“But!” Aemond is quick to add to his lecture, desperate to keep the boys where they are, “Honor in battle is not always as straightforward as the songs would have it. There are times when survival demands unconventional measures.”

“And how,” Jace has stopped and turned to face his uncle once more, “would you know anything of a real battle?”

“You forget I train with Ser Criston Cole.” “You forget we trained with Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond chooses to bite back another remark about how - despite training with one of the realm’s most formidable soldiers, the brother’s still lacked the necessary knowledge and skills.

Instead, he walks back towards their place in the yard and motions for the Velaryons to follow him. Jace stares at him a moment, lets out an exaggerated huff and mutters, “Come on, Luke.”

At their return, Aemond demonstrates a quick feint, his movements precise. “You’re signaling your intent with your movements, Jacaerys. And Lucerys, you hesitate before every strike. Be bold, but calculated. Like this," he continued, demonstrating a fluid series of strikes and blocks. Luke, with a touch of reservation, takes up a fighting stance in front of his older brother.

Aemond nodded approvingly. "Let's try it again. And this time, don't hold back."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Aemond guided them through drills and techniques, offering pointers in between bouts. Slowly, the initial wariness between the boys and the Targaryen prince faded, replaced by a grudging respect for his skill and knowledge.

When the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, the three young heirs sheathed their swords. Aemond found a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. He did not find any joy in the times he sparred with Aegon, which had been few and far between lately. His brother had no real interest in learning and bettering his skills. And Criston Cole was becoming predictable - through no fault of his own. Aemond simply had no one else to spar with that was anywhere near his level. He found unexpected fulfillment in teaching his nephews.

Jace finally deposits his wooden sword with the others in the training yard, Luke following suit. 

With a huff and an expression that makes the prince seem physically pained he tells his uncle, “Well. That was rather…I did not think I’d ever see the day where you would give us any kind of genuine advice. Nevertheless, I am…grateful for your counsel uncle.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Aemond.” Lucerys adds curtly.

Aemond gives them a nod as acknowledgment.

Naive fools.

With that, Jace and Luke begin their journey back into the Red Keep. Aemond watches the boys stride away side by side. He almost resigns himself to turning in for the day, when a thought suddenly enters his mind. 

“Do you know where I might find your sister?” He calls after them. 

Jace remains silent continuing his walk. Aemond rolls his eyes.

She has sworn them to secrecy.

Lucerys seems to take some sort of pity on his uncle after their shared afternoon - much to the dismay of Jace, “I think she spoke of spending time in the gardens…” the younger brother’s sentence trails off when he sees the look Jacaerys gives him. 

Aemond nods gratefully, though no one sees it, and sets off towards the gardens, his mind already racing. He knew spending time with Jaenara was another crucial part of his plan he needed to begin sowing the seeds for. As much as she may detest it.

The believed that if he could convincingly pretend to be infatuated with his niece, to the extent that she truly believed his feelings were genuine, it might help divert suspicion away from him regarding her brother’s eventual murder. She may even come to defend him, when the time comes. Though this would prove to be a challenge.

“You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love” Aemond’s own words from her first evening back at King’s Landing echoed in his mind.

Aemond lets out a frustrated groan and picks up his pace.

When he reaches the gardens, Aemond finds Jaenara and his sister seated on a weathered stone bench in deep discourse, while their ladies-in-waiting linger nearby, amusing themselves.

The distant laughter of the two maidens surprises Aemond and stirs a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister had laughed so freely. It was then, he realized, he had never heard Jaenara genuinely laugh. Everything she let out in his presence was nothing more that a scoff or dry laugh. This, he thought, was a nice change of pace. Happiness suited her.

I should leave them. Aemond’s resolve falters for a moment, and he pivots for a swift and silent retreat. Yet, his sister catches sight of him before he can vanish.

"Aemond!" Helaena's voice rings out, compelling him to sigh and reluctantly turn back to face them.

Helaena's eyes glint with mischief as she waves a hand, beckoning him over. Meanwhile, the fleeting smile on Jaenara's face vanishes, replaced by an indifferent gaze.

"Aemond," his sister greets again, her tone laced with curiosity. "Where have you been?"

"Just sparring with your brothers," Aemond replies, his gaze drifting towards Jaenara.

The surprise in Jaenara's eyes is evident and impossible to conceal.

"With Jace and Luke?" she questions, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You seem…unscathed. I trust the same can be said for my brothers?"

"It was just a training session - nothing if not civil. I only meant to give them a bit of advice," Aemond responds, a smirk playing upon his lips.

Helaena suddenly springs to her feet. "I don’t believe you two have had many opportunities to speak as of late. I will leave you to catch up" she suggests, a faraway look on her face. "I must attend to the children." Her lady-in-waiting follows closely behind as she departs.

Jaenara starts to rise, offering to assist, but Helaena insists she stay. Aemond can't help but conceal his amusement at Jaenara’s desperate state.

The princess exhales sharply and resumes her promenade through the gardens, without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Aemond. With a huff, he follows behind her, as her lady-in-waiting mirrors.

The prince wishes he could dismiss the attendant, wishing for a moment alone with Jaenara to speak without restraint. 

He thinks of another solution.

Aemond peers down at his niece and lets High Valyrian fall freely from his lips.

“You have been avoiding me.” 

Jaenara does not remove her eyes from the path in front of her.

“You have not sought me out.” She retorts, her tone cool and collected. Aemond lights up. He had not expected his niece to be fluent in their mother tongue, and hearing her voice enunciate the ancient words caused something unknown inside of him to stir. 

“I am now,” he replies evenly, “ And I have to say, I had not expected you to be so fluent in Valyrian. Not even my brother speaks it so well. That idiot can barely piece together a single sentence.” 

Jaenara laughs, “I am a Targaryen. Every Targaryen should speak their language. Understand their history.”

Aemond nods, “Something we can agree on, niece. Though I have to say, you speak it better than I thought a-”

“Then a bastard would?” Her words are laced with a bittersweet acknowledgment that catches Aemond off guard. His niece had never spoken the truth of her parentage in front of him - or anyone for that matter. In truth, Aemond found him unsettled from her acquiescence. Though he understood the only reason she dared to acknowledge the truth now, is because no one around them had a clue what she was saying. 

“You’re not laughing, uncle. Very unlike you - you who never passes up an opportunity to remind me of my blood.” Jaenara still seemed unfazed, her attention drifting to a cluster of blue irises at their feet. She bends gracefully to touch the silky petals, and Aemond finds himself captivated by the way her dark hair spills like a cascade of black silk over the blossoms. He clears his throat.

“You are to be my…ābrazȳrys (wife). I no longer wish to humiliate you over things out of your control, such as your parentage.” Aemond’s voice is steady and controlled, betraying his inner turmoil over making such remarks.

Jaenara lets out a laugh, though it sounds hollow. Much unlike the laughter she had shared with his sister. Her lady-in-waiting shifts uncomfortably behind them. “Actions speak louder than words, Aemond.” The princess rises from her spot amongst the flowers, turning to face her betrothed.

Aemond is filled with a stubborn determination at hearing her challenge, and takes a few steps towards her - until he can feel his niece’s breath fan over him. He stares down at her, and finds that he enjoys how she does not shrink under his gaze.

“Pār nyke jāhor gaomagon.” - Then I will act.

Jaenara laughs again, but it is quickly put to an end.

“I do not know why you laugh, Jaenara. I am being sincere.” His gaze is hard. 

She considers his words for a moment, and turns back to the garden path. The princess returns to the common tongue. 

"Come along, it is growing darker," Jaenara says, her voice carrying a hint of finality as she resumes their journey along the garden path. Aemond follows silently, his mind still processing the weight of their conversation. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds, while a cool evening breeze stirs the leaves of ancient trees. When the couple finally reach the stone archways and paths of the Red Keep, Aemond speaks up once more. 

“You will have breakfast with me. Tomorrow” It is not a question, though his tone remains soft..

“I will?” Jaenara asks, an eyebrow raised in defiance.

“This is me taking action.” He offers her a wry smile.

Jaenara exhales and looks to her handmaiden, who skillfully avoids her gaze. “Fine. I will see you in the morning” She stomps off to her chambers, lady-in-waiting trailing behind. The princess does not get to see the small, honest smile that settles on Aemond’s lips. 

— — —

Early the next morning, Jaenara awakes to a polite knock on her chamber door. Alora, her lady-in-waiting, entered cautiously, offering a sheepish greeting. "Good morning, Your Grace."

The princess rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned. "Good morning, Alora. And please, call me Jaenara when it is just us. No need for formality in the privacy of these chambers." she replied with a tired attempt at a smile.

"Oh! Yes, my lady—I mean, Jaenara," Alora stumbled over her words, feeling conflicted over addressing a princess so casually. "Um... Aemond - the prince - sent me to assist you with dressing. He wishes to have breakfast with you?" She sounds uncertain.

Jaenara sighed lightly and pushed herself to her feet. "Very well. Let's not keep him waiting," she said, giving Alora a reassuring glance.

Alora deftly combs out Jaenara's long, ebony hair, swiftly braiding half of it and letting the rest fall down her back. As the princess gradually awakened, she engaged in light conversation with the younger girl, easing her nerves. 

With gentle assistance, Alora helped Jaenara into a splendid dress—its upper half a deep shade of black, its lower half a rich crimson. The sleeves were wrought with golden embroidery. Once satisfied with her handiwork, Alora guided Jaenara to the dining room, where Aemond awaited their arrival.

“Thank you, Alora. I think that will be all for now.” The princess smiles at her lady, dismissing her. Jaenara hesitantly pulls out a chair across from Aemond.

“Good morning.” She offers. An honest attempt at niceties. 

Aemond hums, sounding pleased. “Good morning.”

It remains quiet for a while, as the two begin to serve themselves and take a few bites of the breakfast that has been prepared. The prince steals glances at his niece, observing how her dark curls frame her face. Watching her spoon her food gracefully. Noting how her dress clings to her.

At last, Aemond ventured to break the quiet. “That dress suits you well.”

The princess pauses her cutting of a sausage. Jaenara had not expected to hear that kind of comment so early in the morning. And no less from Aemond of all people. She narrows her eyes at him.

“What?” She asks, as if offended.

Aemond pauses, mid-bite. “I only meant it as a compliment. The Targaryen colors agree with you.” 

Jaenara continues with her meal, deciding that pretending as though she had not heard her uncle was the best course of action.

Why did he say that? Does he mean to mock me?

The prince breaks the silence once more, wanting to change the subject. "I hear your mother's name day preparations have been finalized."

Jaenara swallows a mouthful of food and clears her throat. “Um…yes. I believe so. Everything should be in place by now. The ceremony will be in…five days? I believe.”

"My mother seems unusually eager for the occasion," Aemond remarked. "She and Rhaenyra have been quite chatty lately."

“You’ve noticed too?”

“It is hard not to.” Aemond admitted.

Jaenara shrugs, “True enough. Well, they seem happier anyway.���

Aemond only hums in agreement. “My mother, although…she seems to be even more excited about the wedding than the coronation ceremony.”

Jaenara sputtered on the ale served alongside their meal.

A smug grin spread across the prince's face.

“Oh? Is that so?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can. 

“Oh yes,” Aemond sounds amused, “I hear her and Rhaenyra have taken to planning a few things.”

"What!?" Now Jaenara could not hide her surprise. Her outburst drew the attention of nearby servants, and Aemond grinned at her fluttering.

“Um - I only meant. I had not known they were already planning the ceremony.” She finished, dabbing a napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“Well someone has to. We certainly have not spoken about it.” Aemond remarks.

Jaenara almost feels guilty. She searches Aemond’s eyes for any indication of regret or sadness over their lack of time together. 

“Well then…what would you like to discuss about it?” The princess makes an attempt to turn to the matter.

Aemond considers the question. “What kind of cake would you like?”

Jaenara lets out a true laugh at that, catching Aemond off guard.

“If I must tell you,” She says while catching her breath, “I am fond of lemon pastries.”

Aemond makes a noise of agreement. He recalls that her mother favors the sweets as well. “Then we shall have them.”

Jaenara looks up from her meal and the couple lock eyes. She stares intently into his, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. 

What are you doing, uncle? She is left to wonder. Jaenara feels a crack begin to form in the walls she had put up to keep Aemond out. But the fracture is filled as quickly as it appears when she considers that Aemond is simply playing his part. Putting up a charade. The princess looks at the man before her, and can only seem to remember the cruelties that he has dealt. Her heart hardens.

"Why do you care?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Despite their heartfelt conversation in the garden the day before, Jaenara only continued in her struggle to believe in her uncle's sincerity.

“Because I want to care.” Aemond is taken aback, though he makes an effort to sound earnest.

The princess scoffs and takes a swig of ale. She rises to her feet.

“I am full.” she declares, signaling an end to the meal and perhaps to their conversation. Jaenara stands and walks the length of the table, drawing near to the door but coming close to Aemond.

That strikes a chord within the prince, “You are about as stubborn as a damn mule,” he mutters under his breath.

The retort is not lost upon the princess’ ears. Jaenara spun around abruptly, facing her uncle where he was currently still seated. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Damn it," Aemond whispered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. 

“And here I thought you were being truthful yesterday when you said you no longer meant to belittle me.” She bites.

Some unseen force compelled Aemond onward. He reached out and gently but firmly grasped his niece's wrist.

"I only meant..." He struggled to find the right words. "Gods, you're infuriating."

Jaenara felt a stirring within her at his touch, but she pushed the sensation aside, focusing instead on his words. "I’m infuriating?" 

Now, Aemond raises his voice. “Yes! Infuriating. I am making a sincere effort to get to know you, and I am met with nothing but resistance. There is nothing we can do to change the marriage we will soon find ourselves in,” He rises from his chair, hand still gripped around Jaenara, “but I am making a sincere attempt to make it more bearable. For you.”

A part of Aemond understood that his words were primarily to uphold a facade, to maintain the illusion of feigned interest in his niece. Yet another part of him recognized sincerity in his sentiments. He couldn't help but feel pity for Jaenara. This thought had crossed his mind repeatedly—in the quiet of his chambers, in the stillness of the night, and even yesterday as he watched her depart from the estate gardens. She had undoubtedly drawn the short straw amidst their betrothal.

Jaenara Velaryon was being forced to marry Aemond, a scarred and flawed second son by his own reckoning. While Aemond had initially perceived the proposal of marriage to his own bastard niece as an insult, he couldn't deny the faint attraction he harbored towards her— a sentiment he was certain she did not reciprocate. 

The princess regarded her uncle with a peculiar mix of curiosity and contemplation, allowing his words to sink in. Jaenara's relationship with her uncle had always been incredibly strained — tense. Yet, as she observed the furrow in his brow and the genuine anguish in his eyes, she sensed a truth in his earnest plea. She reflected on her initial hopes—that they might spend their lives avoiding each other, barely exchanging words. Yet, standing before him now, she reconsidered. If Aemond—of all people—could muster some semblance of kindness, however feigned, Jaenara resolved she could reciprocate. Even if it was nothing but a lie. 

For in the convoluted dance of courtly alliances and familial expectations, sometimes even the semblance of civility could hold more weight than honesty in securing fragile peace.

With hesitant resolve, she reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. Aemond feels goosebumps form on his skin from the additional contact. 

"Aemond," she began quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. He makes an effort to memorize how his name sounds on her lips.

Gods be damned, he thought. 

"I apologize. I hadn't fully appreciated your efforts. You are right. For this marriage to have any chance of contentment and peace, we must find common ground. We must make an effort to get to know each other."

The princess finished her apology, her words hanging in the air between them. All Aemond could manage in response was a silent nod, fearing that his mouth would betray him if he were to open it.

Jaenara withdrew her hand from his with a slight hesitation. "Well…I should be going. I intend to meet with my mother to discuss our impending wedding. There is much to plan," she added, her voice faltering slightly as she hurried out of the room.

Aemond stood there, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced down at the hand that had briefly held his niece's, flexing his fingers thoughtfully, a mixture of uncertainty and determination swirling within him.

A/N: As you may have noticed, this chapter is structured a little differently! I decided to make these changes for narrative purposes/so everything flows better. Because of this, I will be revising the previous two chapters, so the next chapter may take a little longer to come out (I also have a job interview coming up, so I will be doing a lot more than just brainstorming and writing now T-T) Anyways! As always, thank you for reading :)

Tags: @toodlesxcuddles

[disgustingtwitches]

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

~

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.