#LOVE BY CHANCE 2: A CHANCE TO LOVE DID NOT HAPPEN

[nayaesworld]

Made Men

Mafia!Terry Richmond x Black reader

Warnings: MDNI, Family trauma, mentions of murder, betrayal

A/N: Happy Lovers Day y’all…I hope y’all enjoy💕

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Summary: Focus on your studies, mind your manners, and stay away from that Richmond boy. Your aunt sang that same tune to you over and over again…but destiny had better plans. And In a world where most people experienced death long before love, how could you deny fate when it came wrapped in a 6’3 package with a crimson bow on top..made men made the underground world go round and yours just so happened to be a bit off its axis..

His very own Miss Universe. The epitome of black beauty and radiance, and he loved you. For all the things that were terribly wrong and fucked up in his life, you were that one right thing in his world that kept him grounded and humble. He loved you for all your weird quirks and interests, for all your loud laughs and giggles, and yet life was telling him yet again that he couldn’t have it all.

Why did the two of you deserve to pay for the past grievances of your families? Why did the two of you have to pay for something that y’all weren’t alive to experience? People were trying to keep her out of his reach, without knowing how far he’d go to get her. No limits. No fucks given for the lives he’d take so they had better stay out of his way. No more separation from her. He couldn’t live that way, couldn’t live without her.

She was worth the trouble, she was worth the risk.

Hands tapping lightly against the steering wheel of his 1969 Ford Mustang. Smoke billowing in the cabin of the car from his cigar. He had learned early on that patience was a virtue and honing it for the right moment made all the difference. He was watching and waiting for his cue, a signal from his baby. It was such a shame he had to even go to such lengths to bust her out of that prison they called her home. A sit down was what he was hoping for, a little chat of some sort to get down to the bottom of this bullshit. So much bull shit. Terry knew who he had to have it with and he played out how things might go in his head, but he’d take any chance if it meant peace with her.

A light switched on and off twice in the living room of the house. His signal..and a sign that things might not be going so smoothly inside for her. He blew out a stressed breath before he stepped out of his car, frustrations were running high but he tried to remain calm and let the bite from the wind chill his hot head. They were supposed to be on the road by now. Long gone and doused in the warm sun deep in Jamaica. A retreat..an escape from this life, and her Valentine’s Day gift. Yet here he was February 13th a day before…bulllshit. His long black leather trench coat blew in the wind as he advanced towards her childhood home.

__

You

Things were bad again between you and your aunt. The packed bags and visible passport sent her into a fit of rage. Only this time you met her frenzied haze of nasty words and disappointment with your own anger. You were beyond fed up, her constant overprotective nature and disregard for your feelings was wearing you down.

“What? You thought I was gonna just let you run off with that boy…he’s no good?!”

“You never even tried to get to know him, you’re a fucking hypocrite, you’re ruining my damn life and you don’t even care!” Wet hot tears streamed from your face endlessly, your body running high on emotions and you were lightheaded from all the yelling.

“I know enough about his family that I shouldn’t have ever let you get close to him! You don’t know what you think you do and I’m sick of repeating myself.”

“Yet again you're speaking in a riddle like I’m some child..tell me the truth. If you care for me how you so often claim. Tell. Me. The. Truth.” Your fingers hit your palm after every word. Beyond fed up with your aunt's silly little rants, this was not going to be how you continued to live your life.

A heavy knock at the front door shut her mouth before she could lie again. The knock was loud and solid, but knowing who resided on the other side of it made your hammering heartbeat calm down enough for you to finally breathe.

Your protector.

Your calm in the loud world.

Your Terry.

You rushed to open the door, almost pulling it clean from its hinges in your rush to get there before your aunt. Leathered hands reached for you and pulled you into his embrace, the smooth cool leather not hiding the rapid thump of his heartbeat. He was angry too..and rightfully so.

“Are you ok..did anybody put their hands on you?” He fired off questions quickly and I shook my head no before he placed me behind him and stepped into the house.

“You’re not welcomed here..bold of you to show your goddamn face.”

“I’m welcomed wherever she is. Because unlike you I have her best interest..period.” You watched him reach down and set a timer on his wristwatch before he rolled his tense shoulders.

“Five minutes. That’s how long you get to tell your niece the truth, or I will. Tell her why you can’t bear to look me in my face…why you can’t tell her the truth after 25 fucking years of raising her.”

Vanessa; your aunt stared daggers at Terry. She reached into her purse and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A sign that she was getting overly irritated and anxious but you could care less. She owed you this and so much more. She pat the bottom of the pack before pulling one out and quickly lighting it.

“ I don’t owe her or you a motherfucking thing. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d watch your next words carefully.” Deflection. It was typical with her.

“Tick-Tock auntie, you do it or I will.” His usual smile ridden face was still and frozen in anger. A stark difference from the man you cracked jokes with.

“You damn Richmond men..always coming around taking what doesn’t belong to you. A bunch of no good ass niggas!” More riddles. More rage.

“Tell her how your obsessive and lustful behavior behind my uncle put her mother and father in harm's way. How you knew he actually wanted her but you didn’t mind playing the back field just as long as you were around him.” And there it was, the truth that for some reason I wasn’t owed. The reason my parents were murdered.

“Tell her! How even though you knew her mother had no interest in my uncle, you still planted those seeds into his head that got her parents murdered..you knew he couldn’t take her rejecting him and you sat back and watched this unfold anyways.”

Sobs escaped your mouth and threatened to choke me with their escape. The truth really did hurt and right not that pain was feeling more physical than mental. All that time without the truth..without your parents. Your child would never know this kind of pain and despair. You pulled the white mohair cardigan tightly around your little bump. You and Terry were going half on God's greatest gift to earth…something to live for and do better for. Your sole reason for wanting to get the hell away from this place. You had done your time here tenfold, it was time to get away and raise your baby with your fiancé.

“Go put your bags in the car baby..I’ll be right behind you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and handed your bags to you.

“Hmm so you just gonna choose that nigga over your own flesh, how are you any different from me neice?”

I rushed over to rearrange her face but Terry grabbed me and pulled me to him. My shaking hands were covered by his large ones and I let their warmth mingled in with his protective gaze soothe me.

“Remember what we’re fighting for, baby. She’s not worth it, you know that, it’s just me, you, and our future.” He bent down into a squat and pressed a kiss to my belly, whispering kind words and affirmations to it.

“That baby will have his last name… his DNA. That’s no family of mine. You leave this house,you're dead to me girl!”

“I’m counting on it.” And with that you grabbed Terry's car keys and slowly carried all your belongings outside. Freedom at last.

__

Terry

“I haven’t heard from Terrell in a week, what did you do to him? I’ll have your body parts scattered from here to fucking South America..don’t test me boy!”

“My uncle is dead..and if you don’t want to meet the same fate as him I’d advise you to watch what you say next Vanessa. This is the bed you made, lay in it.”

“Terrell was a good man! He had his bad days, name a person that doesn’t…he loved me and you took him from me!” More deluded thoughts of “love” but what this really was was a sick obsession.

“My uncle was a sorry ass nigga. A scum that deserved to be wiped clean from this earth…behind her you gotta know I’ll get rid of anybody so please don’t be so surprised.”

Terry stepped into your room and headed to her walk-in closet where she had the rest of her valuables packed and tucked into a corner. He slung the duffel bags over his shoulder and grasped the photo album containing pictures of her and her parents before walking from the room. Vanessa sat in the recliner near the window watching Y/n settle into the passenger seat. Envy written across her face clear as day. She wanted what she couldn’t have, so she had planned to live vicariously through her niece. But those days were over.

“For what it's worth, she really did love you. Long before you broke her heart and crushed her dreams, you meant something to her once upon a time.” She squinted her eyes at him and walked over to stand toe to toe with him. Smoke from her cigarette blowing out of her pity and into his face.

“Get out of my house. And if you or her return to this city I won’t stop her uncles from going after either of you.”

Terry simply smirked to himself before walking away and out into the cold air. The constant purr of his car welcoming him back.

“Where will we go?” He stared into her pretty shining eyes, hands stroking her cheek.

“The time I had to spend away from you…I had something built for us, a haven. I promised you a home to raise our child in, someplace silent and serene. That place is ready love.”

__

“Baby you have to secure her head first..I promise you won’t break her.” You laughed softly at the panicked look on Terry’s face as you slid your one month old daughter into his arms.

Peace and bliss had befallen you and Terry those last months of your pregnancy. As he promised he had you nestled away in the beautiful woods of Fairburn, Georgia. The 3,000 square foot lake house sat on the Chattahoochee River smack dead in the middle of two acres of land ; it had a wrap-around porch and had three bedrooms and bathrooms. Your pregnancy was safe and your baby was healthy because of it, the quiet air surrounding you was a safety net.

You found peace everywhere on the property. Sitting on the front porch sipping your favorite red wine,arranging a savory dinner on the marble island in your kitchen, splashing your feet into the river while your fire pit crackled beside you, or those sweet nights where you laid in bed curled into the hard ridges of your fiancés body. Now your favorite times were spent nursing your daughter Clark, and adjusting to and loving the everlasting changes of motherhood. The love between you and Terry grew constantly and sometimes you’d wonder how it was even possible to love someone with every fiber of your being…how you could love everything about him.

“That little eyebrow arch she does is all you, and she thinks it’s so funny…hi my little dumpling aren’t you just the funniest sweet thing.” Your squeaky baby voice had Terry chuckling as you moved away to prepare her bottle. You poured the cooled breast milk into a four ounce bottle before placing it inside a bottle warmer to be heated. You squirted a bit on your wrist to test its temperature before walking into the living room and handing it to Terry. You watched her as her little hungry coos filled the living room and her tiny hands reached up to pull in her father’s shirt.

You munched on oatmeal chocolate chip lactation cookies and stroked the fine hairs along his neck. “Thank you for rescuing me. All I had to do was mention my situation one time,you never questioned me,never hesitated, all you did was act. I’m blessed that Clark has you for a father, she won’t ever feel what I felt growing up.”

“You thank me? I did what a man was supposed to do love, you don’t see that light around you..that light that binds me to you. I’ve killed for you…and to keep this peace I’d do it again. Because there is no price too high to pay for what you give me, what you just gave me.” He racked down and pecked a kiss onto the baby’s head before pulling you in for a tender kiss.

“We’re raising our daughter together, she’ll always have us…always feel the love we have for her. She's gonna grow up here and never have to lift a finger. She’ll be beautiful and smart just like her mommy because that’s what we intend for her.”

“And so it will be darling…next on our list the wedding”

“You ready to become Mrs.Richmond and give me a bunch of babies?”

“I’ve been Mrs.Richmond since we were seventeen having baseball tournaments in the park.. I loved you then and I still do…and I’ll give you a hundred babies, pretty boy.”

“Mm you want me to lay Clark down so we can work on number two right now..I think she wants a sibling, look at that face.” He held her up and matched the cute pouty expression on her face.

“My baby said no such thing..but mommy does need some loving from daddy. Can you have her down in ten minutes?”

He put her in the crook of his arm and began rocking her slowly. “Make it five, and put that new lace set on…I wanna tear it off you.”

You took off running towards your shared room and slipped into the racy pink set. You sank into the plush bed giggling softly to yourself. Thank god for made men…

__

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[neptuneiris]

aww thank you so much for reading my love! 💖

this couple (or something) definitely did us a lot of damage and the worst thing is that there is not even much context, that in fact will be explained in part 2 the relationship of Aemond and Cerelle and the damage will be even worse 😭

we love a reader who stands up for herself, so now we will see in the next part what exactly will happen, if she will stay firm with her decision to leave him behind or maybe there will be a new chance that Aemond will have to beg and fight for 🙏🏽 see you in next part!

Back To You | (One-shot)

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (friend with benefits)

summary: you're always there, hoping for more. to be more. to mean more and something real. but that's not what he wants, always drawing the line. until… you just can't take it anymore.

words: 19k

sorry for the delay and also sorry this is too long. i won't promise anything next time 😅 and please comment, i want to hear your opinions, a reblog is also appreciated guys.

my masterlist

warnings: angst, sex content, heartbreak.

The first time you met Aemond, it was in the same way everyone else did and in his main way of making himself known to people: quiet, calm and reserved.

If you didn't have friends in common, you know you would never have been able to get close to him. But it was your small group of friends in college that brought you together with him; Alysanne, Sara, Cregan and Jason.

From the beginning, Aemond seemed to exist in his own orbit.

While the others fill the spaces with laughter and conversation, he preferred silence. He is like a constant shadow in the group, always present but not fully integrated.

He usually didn't speak much in topics of conversation, but when he did, his voice is quiet, soft and even soothing that it was almost hypnotic.

And maybe that was what first caught your attention. Something about the way he was, that unwavering distance and tranquility that wasn't arrogant, but almost… carefree.

You understand that he befriended Cregan in one of the classes they shared together. And it was Cregan who gradually included him in the group, at the same time that Sara was also including you.

You soon noticed that, although he was present at meetings and outings, there was a pattern in his behavior.

He talked more with Cregan and Jason, not with the same ease with which they talked to each other, but with a ease that he didn't have with Alysanne, Sara or you.

It's not that he was rude, when you addressed him a few times, he responded politely, but his tone was always restrained, measured.

And not only that, you also notice that as soon as someone tries to get too close, invisible walls rise around him, high and impenetrable. And his selectivity with the people he surrounds himself with, or talks to, becomes all too noticeable.

Even in the group chat Alysanne had created, he doesn't say much. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all.

He never initiated conversations or left casual comments compared to the others. And when he did write, it was only when someone asked him a question. Sometimes days or weeks would go by without his name coming up in conversation.

And, at least, at first… you didn't think much of him.

Aemond was just another presence in the group, someone with whom you shared moments but not necessarily a connection, let alone a friendship, at all. You just kept in mind that his reserved and carefree attitude made him different.

Although over time, you began to notice certain things about him that began to catch your attention.

The way he kept his distance even when surrounded by people. The ease with which he glided through life without worrying about fitting in or pleasing anyone. And the way he showed no interest in being heard or belonging.

He didn't show his emotions and it was hard to read. As well as it was hard to tell what he was thinking about, if he was thinking about anything at all.

That made him even more intriguing and that was the way he inevitably began to draw your interest.

Not because you hoped to change him or because you wanted to discover some secret hidden behind his distant attitude, but because, without even trying, he stood out from everyone else.

While the others sought validation in shared laughter and endless conversation, Aemond didn't care about any of that. And worst of all, no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, every time you saw him, every time you suddenly heard his voice, you felt something twisting inside you.

At first, you justified it as simple curiosity. But curiosity doesn't explain the way your attention kept coming back to him.

How you found yourself looking for him at every meeting, how you waited for him to speak, even if it was just to answer a simple question, and how, despite his indifference, you began to realize that you wanted him closer.

It also didn't help with how incredibly attractive he is.

Despite the scar down the middle of his face and the eye he doesn't have, actually being a prosthetic, he is beautiful.

An accident, Cregan told you, when you asked him, to get a little more information about him. But that was all he told you and with a tone that made it clear to you that he didn't even know that much. So you didn't press the subject.

Not because you weren't curious, but because you knew that Aemond is the kind of person who doesn't talk about certain things with just anyone. And over time, that distance between the two of you began to bother you.

You wanted to get to know him beyond the few words he shared with the group, beyond the occasional comments he made. So, one day, you decided to try to get closer to him.

Try to break down his walls with you.

A difficult thing to do, considering everyone knows what he's like. But not impossible. Or at least that's what you told yourself.

You have an advantage, considering you both belong to the same group of friends. But you know that won't make it any less difficult, still, it's something in your favor. The problem was that you needed an excuse.

You couldn't just show up and talk to him for no reason. You needed something that would get his attention so he would talk back to you to keep him. But there was nothing. There was no specific topic, no common theme or shared class, nothing.

But you would find it. You had to.

Until one day, you saw a change in him. So slight and so small it could barely be noticed. Anyone else wouldn't have even noticed, but you did.

A change in his cold and disinterested attitude, which was suddenly colder and more disinterested. He was more serious than usual. He didn't speak at all unless the guys asked him something.

And his look… serious and even annoyed, with slumped shoulders and as if he was more lost in thought than usual. From the morning, when he arrives on campus with his usual air of indifference, you notice that change in him.

And on a Friday, as the day goes by normally, you can't take your eyes off him.

At lunch, the group gathers in the gardens for lunch, as usual, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Jason and Cregan talk about their usual anecdotes, Alysanne and Sara laugh and tease them and he… completely silent.

Sitting at the end of the table, he has only a bottle of water in front of him, which he sips from time to time. He does not join in the conversation and gazes off into the horizon, lost in thought.

But his tense posture, hard stare and clenched jaw, you notice all that. You want to talk to him. Ask him if he's okay. But you don't want to bother him. However, Jason notices it too and thankfully asks him.

“What's wrong, dude? Aren't you going to eat?”

You immediately watch them intently.

“I'm not hungry,” he replies simply and without emotion.

“And why is that? Everything okay with you?”

Aemond nods without saying anything else. He doesn't explain, and Jason doesn't insist. Neither do the others. They simply continue the conversation as if nothing had happened.

To them, Aemond has always been like that; reserved, quiet and indifferent. But you know there's more to it.

The minutes pass and you don't know what to do. You think about what would be the most ideal way to approach him. But nothing comes to mind.

Then he suddenly stands up and tells Cregan quietly that he will be leaving for his next class. He doesn't say goodbye to the others, just hangs his backpack over his shoulder and leaves.

And it's in that instant that you make a decision.

You don't know if it's a good idea. You don't know if it will work. And you hesitate, as you watch him walk off into the distance.

You could approach him, ask him if he's okay. But you know he'll most likely pull your back out before you can even try. So instead, you pull out your phone, unlock the screen, open the messaging app and start typing.

'Hey, are you okay?'

Simple. Subtle. Polite. You don't look at it the wrong way. In fact, it might work. Still, nerves wash over you, actually not so sure. But you finally take a deep breath and press send.

Honestly, you don't know why you thought he'd respond right away. Or that at the very least, his response would come in maybe ten or fifteen minutes.

By the time night falls and you're lying in your bed, rolling through your social media and no new messages, you begin to accept that he won't reply. And that he probably just ignored the message because he's not the least bit interested.

You sigh and put your phone aside, trying to push the topic out of your mind. But just as sleep begins to grip you, the vibration of your phone startles you.

You pick up the device quickly, a spark of hope lighting up your chest, only to have it shut off abruptly when you read his reply.

'Who are you?'

Embarrassment hits you so hard you feel heat rise to your face.

Disillusion and disappointment that he doesn't even have you in his contacts. You mean… you both belong to the same group of friends and you're both in the same group chat. And he doesn't have your number?

You bite the inside of your cheek, seriously considering not saying anything else to him and pretending this never happened.

But after staring at the message for a few long minutes, you let go of the humiliation and reply in the hope that he'll get back to you in a few minutes and not until tomorrow.

'I'm Y/N.'

A few minutes pass, at most three, but you feel them eternal. All is silence, until your next message comes through.

'Why do you ask that?'

You press your lips together, rereading the screen. It could be genuine curiosity… or it could be his way of making you feel even more out of place. But you don't take it back. Not this time and not anymore.

So you sigh, settle better in bed and decide to be honest.

'Well, I saw you really off today and I just wanted to make sure you're okay.'

The 'read' indicator almost to the second, makes your heart skip a beat. And you watch, expecting to see the 'typing' later.

But seconds pass and nothing. And you watch your screen more intently, as if that will magically make him decide to write you when you want him to. And when you see that he has left you on read, again the embarrassment invades you.

When suddenly, finally, the ´typing´ appears and your heart skips a beat. And finally, his reply.

'I'm fine.'

Two words. Nothing more.

You bite your lip, reading the message over and over, not entirely what you expected and increasingly convinced that this is going to be harder than you thought.

It's not a closed response, but it's not an invitation to continue the conversation either. You could leave it at that. Decide that you did your part and that, if he doesn't want to talk, you can't force him.

But something in you is resisting. You don't want to leave it at that even though you know you're going to be disappointed and that this, his attitude, won't change overnight.

But at least you can be honest. So you write and send the message before you regret it.

'If you need someone to talk to, I'm here.'

And again, you wait.

Surprisingly, he reads your message within a second. However, disappointment again overcomes you when you read his immediate, curt reply.

'Thanks.'

All hope, anticipation and excitement evaporates from your body. You stand there for a moment doing nothing, thinking about what else to write him, wanting to be more sincere and show him that he's counting on you.

'I mean it. I'm here for you, Aemond.'

That's something you'd like to hear if you're not feeling at your best. Knowing that there's someone who cares about you and your well-being, too, would help a lot.

However, the minutes tick by and this time Aemond's reply never comes. Nor does it come all weekend.

You're hoping that at college maybe he'll reach out after the brief text exchange, even… thank you personally for caring about him, text him or something, you don't even know but you're hoping for something, anything.

But you had to know that he would remain just as distant and cold as always.

Disillusioned, you keep noticing that slight pain he seems to be stuck in but is trying to ignore every time you all get together, without anyone else noticing.

You watch him from a distance, attentive and hopeful, but disappointed that you are unsuccessful in every approach to him to initiate a conversation.

Even after the two of you spoke by message, he has no interest in talking to you in person. And he barely notices your presence, as if you weren't even there.

That hurt you, but you understood that it was about what's going on in his mind and whatever it is that has him so depressed, not because you were really the problem.

So during a meeting on campus waiting for the next class to start, everyone discusses their weekend plans.

“There's a party tonight at the Martell frat house,” Cregan announces excitedly, “It's going to be great, they always know how to make a good scandal.”

Everyone begins to agree to attend, sharing laughs and jokes about the last time they went to a Martell party, even Alysanne and Sara, already planning their outfits for the night, except for you and Aemond.

Parties aren't your favorite place, though you've been to several before and always manage to have a good time with help from the girls. And Aemond being quiet catches Jason's attention.

“You'll come, won't you?” he asks him as he gives him a friendly tap on the shoulder.

He shrugs, starting to take a cigarette from his pocket along with the lighter, not caring at all about the subject of the party.

“I don't know.”

Jason frowns, watching him blankly.

“You don't know?”

“Who doesn't know?” inquires Cregan instantly, listening intently and confused.

Jason points it out but Aemond nonchalantly lights his cigarette, while you watch the interaction of the three of them, but always focus entirely on him.

“But you always come over,” Cregan tells him just as confused as Jason.

“It'll be fun,” Jason continues, ”Besides, it's Friday night. What else could you be doing?”

“I don't really feel like going to a party,” he says, just as nonchalant as before.

“Oh, come on,” Jason urges, “We deserve it, you especially after the hell of projects we've had to submit. We need to de-stress.”

“And besides you'll be with us, what can go wrong?” says Cregan to him with his tone full of optimism, trying to convince him.

“Everything,” he tells him in his equally soft and low tone of voice as always, causing a chuckle between both boys.

“But it'll be fun, come on.”

He focuses his gaze on an unimportant point and you, listening to the conversation intently, feel that little spark in your chest lingering, watching him hopefully for him to say yes.

Then you decide to add your voice to convince him.

“You should come,” you say, catching the attention of the three of them, with your shy but firm look and voice, ”It might be a good distraction and it will help you clear your mind.”

Not exactly the best words but you try and feel your heart start to beat fast in your chest from nerves as you watch his eye meet yours.

But it doesn't last too long as Cregan speaks again.

“Yeah, dude. Let's all go together. I don't think you'll get bored but if you do, we can always leave early or switch parties, whichever is better.”

The three of them watch him expectantly for his response, to which he is a little overwhelmed by the attention. But he finally lets out a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of his friends' expectations, and nods slowly, lowering his gaze and refocusing on his cigarette.

“Fine,” he says in a low but determined voice. “But don't expect me to stay all night.”

The answer sparks a small celebration between Cregan and Jason, who pat him on the back and you avoid smiling big, pursing your lips.

“Great! That's all we asked for, mate.”

“It'll be fun, you'll see.”

Everyone else speaks again, except for him and you, as you stare at him for a brief moment, feeling the spark of hope grow bigger inside you.

Tonight may be the opportunity you need to reach out and create connection with him. Besides, it's a party, everyone will be relaxed and surely he will be too, so you can't miss the opportunity.

The night arrives and with it, the anticipation of the party at the Martell fraternity house.

As you approach the imposing house you notice the pulsating lights and vibrant music that can be heard from yards away, promising a fun and energetic night. With Alysanne and Sara, you see the groups of people talking and laughing at every corner, drinking and smoking.

And as you enter the house, the party is in full bloom, with everyone dancing and having a good time, with the smell of beer, cigarettes and even weed lingering in the air, causing Alysanne and Sara to quickly immerse themselves in the atmosphere, pulling you along with them very excitedly to where everyone is dancing.

The energy around you is contagious and as the minutes pass, you catch yourself laughing and dancing, where your worries momentarily fade away amidst the bright lights and pulsating rhythms, enjoying the moment.

Yet there is still that anticipation in you, that excitement as you look out the front door and in all directions, waiting to see him.

And in the middle of dancing with your friends, singing the songs of the moment at the top of your lungs and enjoying the energy of the whole party, just as your gaze briefly focuses on your surroundings, you finally spot a figure with silver hair moving through the crowd.

With a jolt in your heart, you focus your gaze and recognize Aemond.

He moves with a quiet grace, but his expression is a mixture of discomfort and determination. He weaves his way through the people, his gaze scanning the entire place, as if seeking a refuge or maybe a familiar face.

His posture and energy is oblivious to the frenetic energy of the party with his deliberate movements and nonchalant attitude.

And you continue to watch him, with the hustle and bustle of the party fading around you and focusing entirely on him.

You feel a mixture of relief and happiness at seeing him, relief that he has come and happiness that tonight you will finally be able to get close to him.

Aemond continues to approach the epicenter of the party, when on his way he finally meets Cregan and Jason, who greet him enthusiastically and hand him a drink almost instantly, integrating him into the atmosphere and enveloping him in their conversation.

Over drinks and cigarettes, as well as after some banter and laughter, Aemond finally begins to relax, though his movements are more restrained than the others. He would prefer less noise, but it is a party after all.

And you watch from a distance, seeing how the guys entertain him and integrate him into the party, noticing how his posture relaxes more and his expression softens, holding a bottle of beer in his hand and a cigarette in the other.

You know that now is not the time to get close, you want to let him find his own pace without pressure, so you stay in your place, enjoying the company of your friends and also the whole party.

Afterwards you join your friends for more drinks, they insist on taking pictures and videos together, you dance some more, go to get some fresh air because of how suffocated it is and when you look back towards the guys, Aemond is not there.

Cregan and Jason are there with some girls, but he especially is nowhere to be seen. You begin to feel a twinge of unease and start to move slyly through the crowd, looking for his familiar figure.

Until you decide to approach and ask for him or else you'll never be able to find him among all the people already at the party and the people still still entering the house.

“Hey,” you approach towards them, with a relaxed attitude, trying to look casual, ”Where's Aemond? I saw him arrive earlier.”

Cregan turns to you, smiling, while Jason blinks several times as if trying to remember.

“Oh, yeah, he went out a few minutes ago.”

“I think that way,” Cregan points to the backyard with a nod, ”Maybe he needed air or something, he said he'd be back soon.”

You decide to look for him discreetly, making your way through all the students, but the house is full, even more so than it was a few moments ago, with the heat and bustle starting to make you feel overwhelmed.

You think to yourself that he probably went to the bathroom, but minutes pass and being with the girls, you keep looking for him but he's nowhere to be seen.

And that's when you think about the possibility that he has decided to leave.

This leaves you with an empty feeling in your chest and you look around, letting out a long breath and inevitably already starting to feel disappointed.

You continue to scan the place in hope, but minutes pass and there is no sign of him at all.

“Hey,” Alysanne calls out to you, “What's up?” she watches you intently and with a soft smile on her lips.

“Oh… n-nothing,” you act casual, “I just need to go to the bathroom,” you point out, “I'll be right back, okay?”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No, no, don't worry, it's fine,” you assure her instantly.

Again you make your way through the students and head towards the stairs, hoping to find an empty room or a space with fewer people, since you don't really need to go to the bathroom.

At this point you already feel too overwhelmed with the music and all the people that keep arriving, making it impossible to walk. So you just want to breathe and have some peace and quiet.

Fortunately the corridors on the second floor are not so crowded, there are people, yes, but nothing like down there and you try to open the doors, cautious of course, afraid of interrupting some compromising scene.

Until finally the last door opens and it's an empty room, clearly decorated with the personal touch of one of the frat boys.

You sigh and close the door behind you, stepping inside, barely hearing the sound of music up to here and all the chaos. You plop down on the edge of the bed, trying to calm your mind and feeling the tension in your feet give way after all that dancing.

The minutes pass and although you try to distract yourself with anything on your phone, again the disappointment invades you and so does the thought, without being able to help it.

You have failed to keep in touch with Aemond and at this rate, it seems you will never succeed.

He is quite an enigma, very reserved, indifferent to the attentions that many girls in college would long to receive from him and that is what confuses you.

You think of his brother Aegon, whose behavior is the complete opposite.

Aegon adores the attention of girls, his adventures are scattered all over campus and yet, Aemond is a mystery, so secretive that even a simple friendship with him seems out of reach.

And these differences between the two brothers only add another layer of confusion to your feelings for Aemond. You can't help but wonder why someone like him, so aloof and closed off, appeals to you so much.

He won't even give you the time of day, he barely acknowledges your existence when you're in a group with the guys, his gaze barely rests on you, and whenever you try to talk to him, he barely responds and then brushes you aside with an indifference that leaves you feeling completely invisible.

Then why? Why do you keep trying?

You don't even know.

You get up and start walking slowly around the room, trying to calm your thoughts, not really knowing what to do.

You think maybe you should go back to your dorm, since you really don't want to go back down there with all the people and the commotion. But you know that Alysanne and Sara are still enjoying themselves and you leave alone.

You sit back down on the bed and run a hand across your forehead, letting out a sigh, when suddenly, the bedroom door opens and you look up almost instantly.

And then your heart leaps with anticipation and surprise.

Aemond appears under the threshold, his eye meeting yours and you both stand for a moment motionless, saying nothing.

He scans your face and the room as well, while you continue to stare at him in surprise, definitely not expecting him to appear here at all. And there's something particularly in his gaze that tells you he's also looking for shelter from the party. When again his gaze focuses on you.

"I'm sorry," he says to you, in a low, unconcerned voice, "I didn't know anyone was here."

You say nothing for a few seconds, but force yourself to react.

"It's okay," you say quickly, trying to sound calm, "Don't worry."

Again the anticipation grows inside you, this time stronger, mingling with unexpected joy.

He is not gone.

He is here.

And that rekindles the spark of hope in you, which makes you strive to keep your expression relaxed and less surprised, trying to look completely casual and act normal.

A silence settles between you, one that is both awkward and full of potential, to which you try to speak but Aemond speaks first, taking a step back and with his hand still on the knob.

"Am I bothering you?" he asks, his gaze studying you.

"No, not at all," you reply immediately, your words coming out a little more hastily than you intended.

This instantly embarrasses you and you lower your gaze for a moment, clearing your throat.

"I mean, no," you say more relaxed and in a soft tone, "It's okay if you stay. You're not bothering me," you offer him a small, tight-lipped smile, "I guess you want to hide for a while."

He looks out into the hallway, seeming to consider your words for a moment, then lets out a sigh, again watching you and finally enters the room with soft steps, closing the door behind him.

"From Cregan and Jason specifically."

You let out a small chuckle under your breath, wanting to create that light and easy atmosphere between the two of you by being open and relaxed with him so as to get him to loosen up a bit more with you.

You remain seated on the bed, as he walks over to the window and begins to pull his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket along with his lighter.

With a deft movement, he lights the cigarette, where the small flame briefly illuminates his features before a ball of smoke dissipates into the room.

He opens the window and all the commotion outside is heard more clearly, but not enough for both of you to feel annoyed with it, feeling the night air come in to envelop you.

And you continue to sit, trying not to watch him too much, though it's impossible, he is Aemond Targaryen after all.

Still you search for something to say as he stands in a casual pose by the window, smoking and watching the night sky.

"Are you all right?" you ask finally, breaking the silence, your tone soft and gentle, not wanting to seem intrusive.

He nods, not watching you, with the smoke from the cigarette wafting around his face.

"Yeah," he replies in a distant tone, but you notice how thoughts keep running through his mind, "I'm fine."

You omit to let out a long sigh as you gently bite the inside of your cheek and watch him silently for a moment, thinking of something else to say.

Even he doesn't feel your gaze on him, where you silently admire his straight profile, his set jaw, the high cheekbones, the line of his nose, his lips... all his completely beautiful features and so ethereal.

And yet, all those beautiful features have a weight of sadness and tension, where you can see how a tide of thoughts cross his mind that seemingly only you can notice.

You see his barely-there frown and the tension in his jaw, lost in thought, with the cigarette slowly burning away between his long fingers.

You are torn between remaining silent or trying to break the ice surrounding it. You know that your words must be carefully chosen, not pushing but showing your genuine concern.

So you think your words through very carefully and finally decide to take a chance, hoping that your sincerity might do something, anything.

"I've noticed you've been... distant lately," you say, in a soft voice, "More than usual."

He doesn't respond right away, but you notice a slight tension in his shoulders. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette before exhaling slowly, his gaze still fixed on some point beyond the window, as if he's searching for answers in the dark.

Finally, he shakes his head and again responds without looking at you.

"It's nothing, just..." he is quiet for a moment, "Nothing that really matters to anyone."

Your eyebrows furrow slightly and you feel compelled to speak without thinking too much.

"It matters to me," you say in a soft tone, your gaze fixed on him, trying to let him see the sincerity in your eyes.

He slowly turns to you, finally watching you, his expression suddenly alert. There is a mixture of curiosity and anticipation on his face.

"And why would that be?" he asks you, his tone serious and slightly defensive, his frown showing his confusion, clearly not believing your words, "You don't even know me, nor I you."

The words that have come out of you so spontaneously now leave you vulnerable, but you can't back down. You feel a slight blush creep up your cheeks, but you try to stand firm even in your words.

"We're part of the same group of friends," you reply softly, your gaze fixed on him, trying to keep your composure, "We don't talk much, it's true, but I still care about you. Just like I care about everyone else."

He doesn't say anything to you right away. From a distance, he just stands there, watching you. The dim light in the room outlines the lines of his face in soft shadows.

You try not to look away from him, despite how overly intimidated and nervous you feel. And then, as if he is evaluating your words, he looks away and you see a small but visible smile curving his lips, to again raise the cigarette towards them.

"Is that so?" he murmurs and then takes a drag.

You find the scene hypnotic. The way he smokes. A simple action making him look so sexy.

And realizing you're making progress here, when you hadn't even seen him smile the way he just did, you decide to continue to be honest.

"I'm here for you Aemond, I mean it," you murmur, without hesitation, feeling the warmth of your own words. "Either way."

You watch him stare out the window for a few moments, taking another drag on his cigarette and then, he turns fully towards you.

His eye watches you with intensity and you see how there is an indecipherable glint. He tilts his head slightly, watching as he slowly sweeps his gaze over you, igniting all your alerts in you.

Still, you hold his gaze, despite the way he seems to evaluate you and make you feel exposed. He searches for the truth in your every word, as if he's waiting for you to take it back, to hesitate and consider what you're telling him.

But you don't.

Then, with the cigarette slowly burning between his fingers, with a nonchalant movement, he stubs it out against a piece of furniture in the room. And then, he moves slowly and precisely, towards you.

One step. Another step. And another. Each one filling the space between you until the distance is minimal. Until you feel his proximity and your skin bristles, before he even touches you.

Enraptured, you slowly raise your gaze to him as he steps in front of you. His knees brush lightly against yours and his fragrance envelops you, a faint mixture of cigarettes and his cologne that smells too good and intoxicating.

Your heart begins to beat quite hard and fast in your chest, not understanding what is going on. But you don't want it to end.

And being like this, in this way, makes everything even more interesting. You continue to sit on the edge of the bed, while he stands in front of you, looking at your face more closely.

The silence stretches and you see the curve of his lips lift slightly as he sees no hesitation in you. And when he speaks, his voice is low, deep and soft, infused with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Either way?"

His words aren't just a question. They are a challenge. A provocation.

And you don't look away, as you watch him with your big eyes, not backing down. And then, you nod.

The blue of his eye seems to darken with your response, as if you've ignited something inside him. Then, he lifts a hand and with exasperating slowness, directs it to your face and his long fingers brush your cheek.

Holding your breath, you watch him curiously and attentively, as he tests the ground, your reaction. And then his caress becomes firmer. His fingers run along the line of your jaw, slowly ascending to tangle at the base of your hair.

His thumb slides to the corner of your lips, tracing the contour with a softness that contrasts with the intensity of his gaze, while you have to remind yourself how to breathe.

"Then say it," he murmurs, leaning in just barely.

Your throat feels dry. Your lips part, watching him completely mesmerized and unable to believe this is really happening. Your words get stuck, because in this moment, with Aemond so close, with his touch igniting every part of your body, you realize there's no turning back.

"Either way," you assure him in a soft, slightly trembling voice.

"And how far does either way go?"

He holds your gaze, that blue eye burning and as if he can see right through you, something dangerous and exciting.

His hand on your face is firm, but his thumb keeps tracing slow circles at the corner of your lips, almost in a distracted, shuddering caress. He is waiting, testing you.

"As far as you need," you murmur, without hesitation.

He tilts his head and suddenly, his free hand takes your arm, making you rise from the bed as his hand on your cheek is firmer, keeping you right where he wants you.

"So any way I need?" he murmurs, a barely raspy, enveloping whisper that seems to filter through your skin.

He leans in, until you feel his nose brush against yours. And you close your eyes for a moment, trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions he's nothing short of unleashing in you.

"Yes," you say in a whisper, trying to stand on your own two feet.

Suddenly his hand on your waist grips you firmly and tightly, holding you in his orbit with an ease that takes your breath away. There is no pressure, no urgency, just a silent possession that feels more dangerous than any words.

He leans closer to you, his face descending in a movement so slow it almost seems deliberate, as if he wants to lengthen the moment, as if he's enjoying the way your breath hitches, in how your lips barely part, in the way your pupils dilate as the space between you disappears.

His breath, warm with the faint trace of cigarette and mint, mingles with yours. Until his lips brush yours in a touch so ephemeral that it seems like an illusion.

A silent provocation. It's not an immediate kiss. No. He takes his time, brushing his mouth over yours torturously slow, as if giving you a chance to pull away, to stop him.

But you don't. Because you don't want to. Because you want him, so badly.

And when your body leans slightly into him, a sigh escapes your mouth before you can avoid it, needing him. And that seems to be all he needs, because then, you feel it.

His lips slide over yours with devastating precision, trapping you in a kiss that leaves no room to breathe. His hand on your cheek holds you by the back of your neck, while the hand on your waist pulls you closer to him.

He closes in a little more, tilting your face towards him as his other hand slowly slides down your waist, drawing you closer, eliminating any chink of space between your bodies.

The kiss intensifies as his tongue brushes against yours, soft, teasing, exploring with a patience and assurance that makes you shiver. Aemond does not rush. There is no desperation in his touch, just something darker, deeper, as if he wants to memorize your every reaction, every tremor of your body beneath his.

Then it's deeper and more demanding.

You have to cling to his shirt, to the folds of fabric between your fingers, because suddenly you're not sure you can stand without him.

And when he finally pulls away, just a little, just enough to look at you with that fiery blue eye, lips parted and breath hitching, you know nothing will ever be the same again.

"Tell me again," he murmurs against your lips, his forehead touching yours.

With your heart racing, you manage to hold his gaze and find the words to speak, when all you want to do is keep kissing him.

"I'm here for you, Aemond," you say, your tone soft, but confident, "Either way," you complete, without a hint of hesitation.

His gaze darkens. And then, he kisses you again.

And from that moment, that's when it all began. But only when you were alone.

There were no words about it, no questions, no explanations. The next day, Aemond behaved the same as always: serious, distant, impenetrable when you were surrounded by people.

There were no glances, no brushes, no hint that anything had happened the night before. But at some point in the night, he showed up. A short message.

A silent signal that gave way to the change in your relationship with him.

The first time you went to his apartment, there was no doubt or hesitation. He opened the door without a word and you walked in, feeling the warmth of his gaze following you closely. There were no words other than cordial ones and then there was no more preamble.

His way of touching you was firm, decisive, as if he had known you forever, as if he knew exactly what to do to make everything else disappear.

And in those moments, with his breath brushing against your skin and his hands roaming your body, you understood what this was.

It was just sex. But, surprisingly, there was something more.

Something that wasn't said out loud, but it was there, in the way his fingers lingered on your skin after it was all over. He wasn't asking you to stay, but he wasn't asking you to leave either. And somehow, that was enough.

That's how the dynamic between you began.

There were no explicit rules, but the boundaries were clear. The relationship was not based solely on desire, though.

When the two of you were alone, Aemond wasn't his usual self. He wasn't the cold, serious man everyone knew. With you, when the door closed and the world was outside, his expression changed. His barriers would crumble, if only for a moment.

There were nights when, after all, he would simply lie beside you, tangling his fingers in your hair in silence. He would tell you things he never told anyone, fragments of his mind that he rarely shared. And so did you with him.

It wasn't that he was affectionate, for Aemond is not that kind of person. But in the quiet of the night, when you were alone, he allowed himself to be something more than the impenetrable man everyone thought they knew.

In public, however, nothing changed.

He didn't ignore you, but he didn't treat you differently either. If you shared a room with others, he was the same old Aemond: observant, reserved, with an expression no one could read.

There were no signs of what went on when you were alone. It wasn't that he was ashamed of what you had, but he wasn't interested in letting the world know either.

And there were times when you wondered if this was enough for you. If you could go through with this, whatever it was, that existed only in the shadows. The doubt kept you up most of the night and distracted in your classes.

But then, there came the moments that made you forget those doubts.

When he had you against the wall or under his body, his mouth claiming yours with deep, electrifying movements, demanding and possessive.

There was tenderness in the small gestures, in the way he ran his fingers down your back after all, in the way he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear before kissing you again.

But all that only existed when it was just the two of you.

A delicate balance between what was allowed and what was not. A secret kept within four walls, where Aemond allowed himself to be more than just the man everyone knew. Where you are one of the few people he allows to see him as he really is.

And that, for now, is enough for you.

“Gods, Aemond.”

The sensation of his wet tongue exploring your pussy takes over every part of your mind and body. Your fingers grip his hair as your hips begin to roll into his face, unable to contain yourself and unable to stop the moans that escape your lips.

You let your head fall back against his pillow, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in pleasure as you feel his lips suck and lick your clit.

Your thighs rest against his shoulders, as his arms spread you even wider for him, letting him see all of you. He feasts, tasting his saliva and your juices, unable to get enough of you.

Your whole body writhes, having no escape from his grip, as your moans and the sound of his tongue working on you fill his room. When a suck on your clit especially makes you shudder, feeling the reach of your orgasm sooner than you expected.

“Oh my—fuck, I'm gonna come,” you gasp, warning quickly.

“Yeah?” he asks you, pulling slightly away from your pussy, “Are you close, baby?”

You can't speak, just nod.

Then you throw your head back hard, moaning as his tongue finds its way through all your wetness again and one of his fingers enters you, further stimulating the arrival of your orgasm.

“Oh, fuck! Yes, Aem—

He watches you from where he is, still eating you, delighting in your expression and the way you squirm.

You bring both of your hands up to hold your breasts tightly, biting your lips and moaning loudly, feeling the heated pleasure hit you with intensity. He keeps sucking you, prolonging your orgasm, while you moan and see stars behind your eyes.

The perfect scene to make his cock harder.

He gives you one last kiss on your clit as you calm down and he moves up your body, bringing one of his hands to one of your breasts, cupping it and kneading it firmly.

His face leans toward you and he kisses you, letting you taste your flavor as he has so many times before. You feel dizzy, exhausted and overheated. But you know none of this ends here.

So you open your arms, embracing him as he makes room between your legs, never stopping kissing you.

“So pretty. So good for me,” he whispers against your lips with desire.

Hot and heavy, Aemond presses his cock against you, pressing it deliciously against your clit. You furrow your brows and gasp, still feeling the weight of your earlier, intense orgasm.

But you want more, more of him.

“Please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, ”I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? You want that?”

Everything about him is intoxicating, enthralling, dazzling and hypnotic. You don't think clearly. Much less in sex. So you just nod, needing more of him. Your pussy clenches around nothing and it frustrates you, so you grind your hips harder against his cock.

“Don't worry. I'm going to fuck you just right,” he tells you then leaves a soft kiss on your cheek.

Agitated, you watch as he removes his boxers and his hard cock slams against his lower abdomen. Big, pale and hot.

He reaches over to his nightstand drawer, grabbing a condom. He puts it on quickly and brings the tip to your folds, wetting it with your juices and slowly opening you for him.

The contact makes you shudder and you cling to his shoulders as he slowly begins to open you up. The sensation invades you almost instantly, intoxicating you, as he fills you to the hilt.

You watch him with your mouth open, as his eye bores into yours and he drops down for a moment to watch perfectly as the two of you join, hissing, staying still afterwards to give you time to adjust.

You've felt it many times before, it's not new, you can take it in completely. Yet it feels like the first time, every time.

And then, he begins his gentle back and forth, moving in and out of you slowly, at the same time burying his face in your neck, sighing as he feels your perfect pussy squeeze him.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps in your ear, sending shivers through your body, “Squeezing me so fucking tight. Feels so good. So deep in your pretty pussy.”

“Feels good. So good, Aemond.”

Then, he begins to penetrate you with steadier movements, deep and hard.

The air leaves your lungs, as you cling to his shoulders and hug him against you as you feel his warm breath against your neck each time he thrusts inside you again.

You whimper, feeling him keep up the steady rhythm, making you bite your lip at the delicious sensation that soothes the need you feel deep inside you.

“Oh Gods,” you moan, ”Oh yes.”

His onslaught is faster and more energetic, penetrating you harder.

“That's it, baby. Wrap your legs around my torso,” he commands you in a soft, but firm, deep voice, full of lust.

And you do, desperate to feel him deeper inside you. The sound of skin against skin along with moans and gasps are all you hear in the room.

“Yeah, just like that,” he croons in your ear, ”Good girl. Just for me.”

All he gets from you is that you squeeze his cock harder. And he speeds up his movements, as he steals your breath with each thrust.

Aemond grunts and leans in a little, raising one hand to grab the edge of the bed's backrest for support to hit your exact spot with more precision and you whimper, arching your back at the delicious sensation.

He watches your every expression pleased, digging his fingers even deeper into the wood and with his other hand your skin, enjoying your pretty sounds that you make only for him.

“Aemond,” you moan.

Resting your head on the pillow and moaning without caring about anything else, you collapse. You tremble beneath him, your eyes roll back in your head, and you explode with an intensity stronger than your previous orgasm.

Feeling the way you squeeze him, he speeds up his movements, his thrusts faster and harder, reaching his own orgasm. He grunts and buries his face in your neck, grabbing one of your breasts hard as he cums inside you.

He curses, as he drops his body on top of you, breathing hard and his pulse too fast.

Then, complete silence.

Neither of you say or do anything. You both try to regulate your breathing and calm down from the high. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek, with his hand holding your face to then begin a brief trail of kisses to your lips. He kisses you deeply and finally leaves a last kiss on your forehead.

It feels like heaven and everything about him completely consumes you. It drugs you and floods you in the way you don't want it to stop. And you deeply wish time would stop so you can enjoy the moment forever.

But then, he gets off of you and lies down next to you letting out a sigh. And suddenly, coldness. There is no more affection or the warmth he used to give you.

You cover yourself with the sheets and watch him almost out of the corner of your eye. You want to get close to him, to hug him and have him make you feel safe and well cared for after the act of intimacy, like before.

But before you even try anything, he reaches over and takes from his nightstand a cigarette, lighting it. He makes himself comfortable in his own way and takes drags while staring at the ceiling or a spot in the room.

You bite your lips and look away from him, having no idea what to say.

The smoke reaches your nostrils and you both stay like that, existing, saying and doing nothing for a few long minutes. Then you see the time and it's late.

It's dangerous for you to go home by yourself, even in an Uber. And by his behavior, you doubt that he will tell you that you can stay or that he will drive you home.

You don't want to be later so you let out a long breath and without looking at him, you sit up with the sheets on your chest and start looking for your clothes.

"Where are you going?"

His question surprises you and catches you off guard instantly, so you turn to look at him a little uncertainly as you tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"It's late. I should be going."

He checks the time too and watches you with a frown.

"Don't you want to stay?"

"Hum... I don't know," you shrug, "You want me to?"

"Yeah," he says nonchalantly, "You've stayed many times before."

"Yeah, I know, but... I don't know. I thought you didn't want me to stay this time."

He holds his frown as you watch him exhale smoke from between his parted lips, making a confused gesture with his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just thought about it," you shake your head, averting your gaze from him.

You feel his gaze on you as you bend over and pull on your shirt so you don't sleep completely naked. And he doesn't even tell you to wear his, like he used to a time ago.

He used to tell you that he loved seeing how his shirts looked on you and now... nothing.

"I'll drive you home in the morning. Don't worry," he tells you in that again nonchalant and... distant tone.

"Yeah," you murmur, turning to lie down next to him.

He lasts a few more minutes smoking his cigarette staring at the ceiling and nothing else, while you silently watch the features of his handsome face and the movements he makes with his hand and cigarette.

Finally he stubs out and throws what little is left of it in the trash, then turns off the lamp and begins to settle in next to you. He leans towards you, puts an arm behind your head and pulls your body towards him to sleep together, as before.

You place your head between his chest and neck as he wraps both arms around you and rests his head on yours, releasing a long breath to finally fall asleep.

For a moment, the action and the way you both are comforts you. His closeness and the way he holds you, makes you feel safe, comfortable, warm and makes those butterflies flutter in your stomach.

But you notice the little differences.

His touch is different, his nonchalant and distant attitude is transmitted through his movements and this... it felt like a mechanical movement, a movement caused by habit and almost forced.

It's like he has to, not because he really wants to. There are no little kisses or little caresses before bedtime while he holds you. Nothing. He doesn't make you feel the way he used to.

But at least he holds you.

And you settle for that, still with sadness in your heart and with the feeling that something has changed and you don't know what it is but, it gives you a bad feeling.

At least he's still doing these little things that used to make you happy. But... again, it's not like before.

You prepare breakfast for Aemond and yourself.

You woke up earlier than usual just so you could prepare a decent breakfast for him so he wouldn't go to class on an empty stomach.

You know that his classes start earlier in the day compared to yours and you have been listening to him take a shower for a while and now he is probably finishing getting ready to leave.

A few minutes ago you received messages from Sara asking you where you will celebrate your birthday tomorrow. You just had to tell her a place and she and the guys will take care of the rest.

You feel visibly excited about it. Although Aemond hasn't talked to you about any of that but... you are hopeful.

At that moment he appears down the hallway, ready to go to class, heading quickly towards the living room where his backpack is, shooting you a brief glance.

"What are you doing?"

"I made breakfast," you tell him, making him coffee the way he likes it.

"I don't have time," he tells you hurriedly, not even looking at you.

That makes you stop and look at him confused.

You shouldn't either, in fact, they are little things that anyone would tell you are unimportant but... you notice them and it sets off another alarm in you.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?" you ask him confused.

"No."

"But you always eat breakfast even if you're late."

"I can't now, Y/N. My first class is important," he tells you again with that coldness and almost... annoyance.

You watch him for a few seconds without saying anything. And then you watch all the breakfast ready in front of you as you bite the inside of your cheek, again feeling that bad feeling and discomfort running inside your body.

"Go get changed so I can drop you off at the dorm in passing," he tells you, "I don't have much time. We have to go now."

Surprisingly you don't want to.

Normally you would have accepted without even hesitating but now...you feel like you're annoying him and you don't want to do that with this too. Besides, he looks very rushed.

"Don't worry. I'll take the bus," you say without emotion, leaving everything on the table and heading towards his room to change.

"As you wish," he says behind you, unconcerned.

A sharp pain settles in your chest and you try to control yourself, not wanting to overthink things, even though you are already doing so.

With the sadness inside you, taking your time, you change and improve your appearance just a little. Normally you would have taken a shower here too but now you don't want to do any of that. You just want to go home.

You're barely finishing putting on your pants when you see him appear under the door frame with his backpack on his shoulder.

"Hey," he says to you in a surprisingly soft tone compared to a few seconds ago, "What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"Huh?" you look at him confused and attentive.

"Do you have plans tomorrow afternoon?"

You think about it for a moment, not expecting his question.

"Hum... no, not yet. In the night it's just the hanging out with the guys."

"Yeah, I know. But I thought we could do something the two of us before we go meet them."

And then, again that little hope appears and every ugly feeling from before is replaced.

My birthday.

You think instantly, feeling hopeful and excited. Surely he has a surprise for you and everything you were thinking before about his attitude and behavior, surely it's just because he has a lot to do regarding his classes and it really has nothing to do with you.

"Like what?"

He puts on a small half smile.

"Just be ready at six. I'll call you and pick you up."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, sure," you nod, smiling softly.

"Okay," he murmurs, "I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah. Drive safe."

He leaves and eventually so do you, it being a common routine where you know how to secure the door to his apartment when you're the last to leave.

Despite attending to your classes and work, you couldn't help but think of a thousand ways and things to do where Aemond will probably surprise you.

You didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. You texted him once you got to your residence and your day was almost over but he didn't respond.

Then you took a shower, finished some chores and watched a new episode of the show you are currently watching. Every once in a while you couldn't help but check your phone to see if you got a message from him or if he called you, but nothing.

Until eventually you fell asleep.

And the next morning, when you wake up, it's your birthday.

You get lots of messages and congratulations from your friends. Sara tags you on many Instagram stories wishing you a happy birthday. Other of your classmates also congratulate you and you spend part of the morning smiling and replying messages.

You FaceTime with your parents and family members you haven't seen in months. Even though the vacations are fast approaching, you've already made plans with Aemond to stay with him.

You receive more congratulations from cousins, aunts and uncles, you also talk to your grandparents and answer more messages from your friends.

Until you look for a specific person, there is nothing. Aemond hasn't texted or called you. The message you sent him yesterday he hasn't even seen it and that seems weird to you.

But the day is just starting so there is still plenty of time.

You also remember that he has something prepared for you this afternoon, so you look forward to whatever it will be. You know he will text or call you later.

You get ready and choose an outfit that makes it clear that this is your special day. You do waves in your hair and make your makeup a little more bold. Finally you apply lip gloss and head to campus.

You meet your classmates, they give you their best wishes, your professors also congratulate you on your birthday and your day is potentially going great.

Still, the hours pass and Aemond still hasn't contacted you.

That seems weird to you. But it's still early. So you follow the corresponding schedule of your classes and keep your mind busy for a couple more hours.

You finally get an hour's break and take a seat at one of the tables outside in one of the many gardens on campus. You pick up your phone and frown when you see that Aemond still hasn't texted you.

Confused, and just to put your mind at ease, you decide to text him yourself, asking if he's okay. But the messages don't reach him, confusing you and drawing your attention even more.

Either he has no signal wherever he is or his phone is turned off, which is very weird.

You tell yourself that surely he must be busy and will call you soon. You mean... he has to, right? It's your birthday and he has a plan for the two of you in a few more hours.

At that moment, you run into Jason, Cregan and Sara, who lock you in a tight group hug, congratulating you on your birthday and making a bit of a fuss.

"How's the birthday girl doing?" Jason asks you, smiling.

"Great," you assure him.

"Did you get any presents?" asks Sara.

"Mmm… yes, from some classmates," you reply with a small soft smile, "My mom also send a video with my little brothers. We promised to celebrate when I see them on vacation," you pause for a moment, hesitating if you should ask what's really on your mind.

But finally, you decide to do it in the most casual way possible.

"Oh and... have either of you seen Aemond?"

"I haven't," says Sara.

"I called him but sent me straight to mailbox," says Cregan.

"I think I saw him heading toward that building," Jason points out, "About two hours ago."

So he did come to class.

That's what your mind immediately thinks. But you don't understand what's going on with his phone.

"Yet he said he's going to the pub later," Cregan says.

"Yeah, that's where the whole group will finally be together," agrees Sara cheerfully.

Well, at least you know he's okay. And if he doesn't text or call you, you're sure he'll pick you up at your dorm like he said he would.

You linger for a few more moments chatting with the guys until eventually everyone heads off to their next class, hours pass and you finally finish your classes.

You quickly head to your residence to touch up your makeup and put on another outfit. You have exactly half an hour until six o'clock and Aemond arrives.

You put on your playlist of the moment and undecidedly start looking at all the outfits that are for the whole occasion. You don't know where Aemond will take you so you want to be prepared in case of anything.

You also make sure of your lingerie.

You recently bought a couple of new outfits and now seems like the time to break in a new one.

With Aemond it's almost a law that you'll both find the time wherever it is to obviously do... that. He's insatiable and goes crazy over every new outfit you put on and you really want to surprise him.

You finally finish getting ready and look at the time on your phone, it's exactly six o'clock. And excited, you wait for him.

Usually Aemond is very punctual. The time he says he will arrive, he arrives exactly at that time. But ten long, eternal minutes go by and he doesn't show up. And that really seems very weird to you.

Then fifteen, twenty minutes and he still doesn't show up.

If something got in his way, he would usually let you know. But you don't get a text or a call from him. So you decide to call him yourself.

Finally the call comes in and you wait for him to answer, relieved that his phone has a signal or is on, whatever happened. But he doesn't answer.

You call again, nothing. And again, nothing. Bewildered, you text him, telling him you're waiting for him. But nothing, he doesn't answer, doesn't tell you anything, doesn't even read them.

You start anxiously moving your foot up and down and call him a couple more times, but he doesn't answer. And that's what happens for over an hour, waiting for him to call you or say something, anything, but nothing.

Feelings of disappointment, sadness and anger wash over you. You plop down on your bed and continue to stare at your phone waiting for something, anything, with a bitter look on your face. But, again and as lately, nothing.

He hasn't even said happy birthday. He hasn't said anything at all. And the plan for both of you, completely forgotten.

When then, a terrible realization begins to dawn on you.

He maybe...?

No.

You immediately say to yourself, in denial.

He hasn't forgotten your birthday. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't do that to you. He couldn't.

Frustrated, you let out a long breath as the thought begins to creep deeper and deeper into your mind. Not leaving you alone and wanting to convince you that's exactly what happened. Or else he would have responded to your message from this morning and you both would be together right now.

But you tell yourself that maybe something happened. Something he didn't plan for. Maybe something important and he can't communicate it now, but eventually he will.

You're sure he wouldn't do something like this to you, so it must be something unexpected and important.

You chase away all the negative things you're thinking and think about Cregan saying he's going to the pub anyway. You know that right there he'll give you an explanation and make it up to you, you're pretty sure.

So you wait for the time you agreed to show up at the pub with Sara, all the time still hoping to hear something from Aemond, anything. But nothing.

Finally he arrives.

His arrival completely steals your attention. You watch as he enters the pub with a completely disinterested and... resigned look on his face. As if he doesn't really want to be here.

This gets your attention even more but in front of the others, you hide it and don't immediately approach him, as if you haven't been waiting for him all this time.

Jason and Cregan literally rush towards him, while you sit there talking to Sara and your other classmates continue to talk and drink.

Sara is talking but you're not really listening to her, as out of the corner of your eye you watch him, talking to the guys with a tense posture and a somewhat irritated look on his face.

And after a few minutes, the guys practically drag him over to the table where you are, cheering him on.

The three of them take a seat, he specifically in front of you and all he does is give you and Sara a slight nod of his head in greeting and... that's it.

And that's the point where you finally don't understand anything.

He hasn't even said happy birthday to you. Nor does he give you the signal to both speak privately. He doesn't even seem to have your numerous missed calls and messages you left him in mind.

What's wrong with him?

He's looking all around, until the moment comes when, of course, he takes his lighter and his cigarette and doesn't even glance at you. He doesn't join in the conversation either. He doesn't really do anything.

And you start looking for the perfect opportunity to approach him and ask him to explain himself.

And you think it finally comes when he gets up and says he's going to get a drink, heading with dispassionate movements towards the bar.

But the bar is in plain sight and your drink is still full. So you start taking quick sips to finish it without drawing attention to yourself. Still, you watch him and are more confused when you see him with his back to you typing on his phone, waiting for his drink.

There's no way he hasn't noticed the numerous messages you've left him.

You don't understand why he hasn't spoken to you all day and why he seems to be ignoring you. You just don't understand anything.

And just as you're about to get up to go with him, he returns with drink in hand and a seriousness in his eyes that you haven't seen for a long time. So you last a long time at the table, talking to the guys, waiting for the opportunity that keeps not coming as time goes by.

You also talk to your classmates at the other table and from time to time you watch him, if not all the time, wanting him to look back at you but nothing.

He seems distracted, serious and irritated. Everything about him you can see and notice.

When suddenly he stands up without a word and you watch intently as he heads for the restroom.

The perfect opportunity!

From the tables where everyone is sitting, they can't see the small hallway leading to the restrooms. So you let a few small seconds pass, act all normal and casual, and finally get up and tell Sara that you will go to the restroom and will be back in a moment.

You do everything normal, although you don't really do anything inside the restroom, except stand at the entrance and listen attentively for the moment when the men's restrooms door opens so you can go out and bump into him.

And that's what you do the moment you hear the door open, hoping it's him and not someone else.

And to your good fortune, it's him. And he watches you the instant your figure appears in front of him, both of you stopping your steps.

"Hey," you say a little uncertainly, looking at him slightly confused and with nervousness creeping over you.

And he speaks to you with the most disinterested and cold tone he has ever addressed you with. His gaze cold and distant.

"Hey."

This confuses you even more and you decide to get to the point directly, needing to know what's wrong with him.

"Are you okay?"

He frowns, as if your question is absurd.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well... I haven't heard from you all day. I called you many times and left you several messages, but you didn't get back to me."

Aemond raises an eyebrow, as if he doesn't understand what you're saying and starts pulling his phone out of his pocket, seemingly unconcerned.

"You did?"

"Yes," you say, feeling more lost than ever, "I wait for you."

"For what?"

You stare at him incredulously and with all the bewilderment in your gaze, parting your lips.

"For what?" you repeat, not understanding, "Yesterday you said you'd pick me up at six. You didn't tell me where we were going and so I kept calling and texting you but you never answered. You didn't even let me know you weren't coming," you say looking at him confused, "Something happened or... you forgot?"

The change in his gaze is subtle, but you can see it. Something inside him softens, watching you silently, with realization. And upon seeing your gaze, he averts his gaze full of resignation as he takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face.

"Fuck," he mutters.

And you watch him the whole time, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"Sorry," he finally says, watching you and his voice deepens, "I forgot. I was busy."

You blink, watching him sadly and uncomprehendingly, frowning at him.

"You forgot?" you repeat in a mumble, shaking your head and shrugging.

"It wasn't intentional," he tells you in a more serious tone, "I was busy and I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you later, okay?"

But something in his words doesn't convince you, and you continue to stare at him with that look that begs for deeper answers.

"But why would you forget? Where were you?"

"I already told you I was busy."

"Yes but you were the one who told me that—

"I know," he cuts you off sharply, "And I forgot because, for the fourth time, I was busy. Now stop making a big deal out of it and stop whining like a little girl."

Pain flashes across your face as you take a step back, bewildered and surprised.

He has never spoken to you this way before. Nor has he ever behaved with you the way he is behaving now. You just don't understand. But then... again that thought comes to your mind as you watch him with your parted lips.

The realization comes and hits you to make you see the reality. And you watch it sadder and more confused than before.

"You don't even know what today is? Did you forget too?" you ask him with your voice cracking in disappointment and disbelief, "I-I... I just... I just wanted to know if you were okay and where you were. And I don't think it's fair that—

"Look," he says, interrupting you with a coldness and a look full of annoyance, "Just because we slept together doesn't mean you're my girlfriend Y/N, because you're not. Let's make it fucking clear to you once and for all and stop thinking you have the right to demand explanations from me that I don't have to give you. You're just a convenient fuck and that's all, do you understand?"

His words fall like a weight on your chest and everything around you seems to stop. Your breath catches and your throat closes as you stand there, not knowing what to do and unable to believe what you just heard.

You can't believe he, he, said that.

Not the Aemond who looked at you with that intensity that seemed to promise more, who always found a way to make you feel special, even if it was in the privacy of bed or in the shadows of your moments together.

But here he is, looking at you coldly and honestly, also with some annoyance, as if you were just another problem he doesn't need to solve, but to get rid of. And really meaning every word he says.

You don't say anything. You just can't. The lump in your throat makes it impossible for you to speak and tears burn in your eyes, threatening to fall.

You try to stand firm, but every second that passes is a struggle not to break down in front of him. When then, you hear Sara's voice.

"There you are!"

She exclaims, approaching with a huge smile.

"What are you doing? We're waiting for you. It's time to sing happy birthday."

You don't see it but the confusion in Aemond's eye appears when Sara mentions the word birthday.

And you nod, biting the inside of your cheek, instantly pretending that everything is perfectly fine and you weren't heartbroken just a few seconds ago.

You swallow hard, controlling yourself.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."

She takes your arm and leads you along with her towards the table with the candle-decorated cake that all your friends together have bought for you.

Sara also makes sure to place your gifts around for pictures while you take a seat in the middle in full view of everyone and continue to hold your ground.

Aemond eventually approaches the table as well, you feel his closeness without even looking him, at the same time as everyone starts singing for you.

The room is filled with laughter and voices, with the hubbub of your friends singing a rousing and somewhat off-key version of 'happy birthday'. Sara is at your side, smiling radiantly, as the others raise their glasses, animated and happy.

And you... you smile too.

A wide, almost perfect smile that seems to fit the scene. But inside, you feel how every second that passes is like a knife pressing against your heart. An uncomfortable knot forms in your chest as you struggle to keep your composure.

Don't cry. Don't cry now.

You repeat yourself over and over, forcing yourself to keep up the facade. You know your friends are here for you, that they really want to see you happy, but all you can think about are Aemond's words and how he reduced you to something insignificant.

Your hands are tense, clenching the edges of the table as if that will keep you on your feet.

Your jaw aches from pretending so much, from holding back the tears that burn in your eyes. But, fortunately, you're doing a good job and no one notices.

However, you don't know it either but Aemond does.

He has come close enough to see your face. And although at first glance you look radiant, he knows you too well and something in your smile, in your eyes, tells him the truth and that smile is not real.

You don't see it, but you feel his gaze on you, so intense. As he purses his lips and continues to watch the scene, remorse hitting him with a force he didn't expect.

The last chords of the song echo as everyone applauds, cheering and encouraging you to blow out the candles. You take a breath, blinking rapidly to clear any sign of your emotions.

"Go on, make a wish, birthday girl," Sara tells you excitedly.

You lean into the cake, closing your eyes.

Your mind, treacherously, can't help but return to Aemond's words, again feeling the urge to cry. And yet, you make an effort to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, at least for now.

And finally, you blow out the candles.

Applause fills the space again, and you smile as everyone begins to surround you, offering hugs and warm words. When your gaze inevitably meets his.

He's still there, standing a little apart, watching you with a mixture of guilt and something else you can't quite decipher. He doesn't even try to come closer and you're grateful for that, because it's the smartest thing he can do now.

You look away from him and continue to thank them, doing the best thing you know how to do: pretend.

You laugh lightly at a comment from Sara, accept another hug, and even allow someone to smear a bit of frosting from the cake on your nose.

It all seems so normal, so perfect, but you know it's not.

Aemond is still there, motionless, watching you. And even though you try to ignore him, you can feel his gaze burning into you. He knows he has crossed a boundary tonight. He knows he's hurt you and you're like this because of him.

"Happy birthday, Y/N."

One of your classmates says to you as he hugs you. Then someone else hugs you and says the same thing, then another person and another.

But the voice you most longed to hear saying those words to you is absent and the emptiness it leaves weighs heavier than you'd like to admit.

But one thing is guaranteed and that is that you're fucking done.

After your birthday celebration, you went home earlier than you normally would have stayed to celebrate. But you just couldn't pretend anymore.

Aemond is the one who always takes people who live near him with him in his car. But this time it was Sara who did you the favor after telling her that you appreciated everyone's great gesture for celebrating your day but you weren't feeling well.

You received a couple of texts from him during the ride. Messages you decided not to read or you would end up crying with Sara in her car. So you stood your ground and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't cry for him once you got to your dorm.

Obviously, you failed.

As soon as you finished taking off your clothes to put on your pajamas and started removing your makeup, inevitably the first tears started to fall. And then, you were a complete mess.

You weren't helped by the fact that his texts kept coming. And you had an idea what they were saying, so the very pain and bitterness deep inside you made you strong enough to not read anything, turn off your phone and go to bed to sleep.

But clearly nothing ended there.

You expected that he would later try to talk to you, no matter what.

So you did what you had never done before when it was about him and what he sometimes did when it was about you; you sent him straight to voicemail and didn't respond to any of his texts for days.

Y/N, please.

I didn't fucking mean it.

I'm sorry.

Can I talk to you?

Call me as soon as you can.

I know you're mad at me but I needed to talk to you, please.

That and more similar texts is what you've been getting these past few days. Days in which you have fortunately managed to avoid him on campus. And not just him, your other friends too or else he'll intercept you with them and you won't have a subtle escape.

And you don't want that.

You don't want to be weak enough in front of him to listen to his justifications and forgive him so easily. What he did to you, what he said to you… is not worthy of forgiveness.

You never realized before how insignificant you are to him and how he truly sees you. You are not even a little bit special than you considered him to you.

But that what happened, it broke your heart but it has also opened your eyes. You know you won't be able to hide forever. You also know that eventually meeting Aemond either alone or with people would be inevitable.

Besides, your friends were already starting to notice it weird that they didn't see you around, so you meet up with them in the usual campus gardens and act completely normal.

When Aemond also joins shortly after.

Everyone greets him as normal when he arrives and he greets them back with his usual nonchalant and serious attitude. However, you don't greet him. You don't even look at him.

You take the opportunity to do one of your homework right there, participating in the conversation from time to time but without being involved, just accompanying them and nothing more.

He takes a seat in front of you, where you instantly feel his piercing, burning gaze. You feel him silently begging you to look at him, to give him a chance to talk, to not ignore him anymore. But that's what you do, you ignore him.

“And how are your vacation plans going?” asks Cregan.

Inevitably, you tense up at the question. And the memories come back.

“Come with me.”

“Where to?”

“To Dragonstone.”

You press your lips together and more purposefully pretend to be completely immersed in your homework, when the truth is you hear the entire conversation.

“Where are you going?” he asks Jason.

“Sunspear, with my whole family.”

“And you?”

“I'm going home, Winterfell,” Sara replies.

“Winterfell?” repeats Cregan confused, “ You didn't say you were going to the beach?”

“Nope. I'll relax in the cabins with hot tubs,” she says with a smug grin, “How about you?”

“I'll go to the beach, definitely. I'm thinking Runestone.”

They go on to talk about their plans, places and so on. When they ask Aemond and you particularly pay more attention to that.

“You haven't changed your plans? You're going to Dragonstone?”

And his quiet, soft, nonchalant voice is not long in coming.

“Yes.”

And you continue to pretend. Pretending that you're not listening, that it's not a big deal, and that you secretly didn't have the same plan to go with him. And you're so immersed in it, you didn't think about the fact that eventually you'd also be asked the same question.

“What about you, Y/N? You said you had plans too.”

Shit.

You try to look like the question hasn't caught you off guard. And you quickly compose yourself. You raise your gaze to them, all but him, and speak with a nonchalant attitude and tone.

“Actually… no,” you place a soft smile, ”I'm going to stay here.”

“Oh really?”

“And why is that?”

Everyone looks at you in surprise and bewilderment. But, specifically, a burning, piercing eye watches you with more intensity than before and with a annoyance you can feel through your skin. Betrayal and pain, even. And honestly, it bothers you, too.

What was he expecting after what happened?

You try not to let it affect you, pretend he's not even here. And you deliberately ignore him.

“Maybe I'll visit my mom for a week or two,” you explain calmly, “But I'll stay most of the time here. And that's okay. It's no big deal.”

The guys give you their opinion and invite you to spend the vacations with them, somehow not wanting to leave you behind. But you turn them down politely, thanking them for their concern and saying that what you want is some time to yourself. And they understand.

And then, Aegon appears.

His entrance is, as always, loud and carefree. He wears a wide grin and a mocking twinkle in his eye as he greets everyone.

“Ah, look at this boring group alone,” he says, plopping his body down next to you on the grass.

Everyone waves at him, even you.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“The vacations.”

“Oh yeah, I can't wait. I need a break from all this,” he says as he lets out an exaggerated sigh and everyone in the group watches him with raised eyebrows.

“You? A break?” Sara asks him.

“Sure,” he shrugs, ”I'm a student too.”

“You've been drinking and going to parties every day,” Jason tells him amused, “What break are you talking about exactly?”

Everyone in the group laughs, even you, except him.

Aegon tries to justify himself, but even he knows he's a mess. When suddenly, his gaze fixes on you, raising an eyebrow and placing a smirk as if something has suddenly crossed his mind.

“Hey, Y/N,” he nudges you lightly with his shoulder, ”it was your birthday, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod with a small smile, trying to keep your composure.

“Why didn't you invite me?” he asks, feigning indignation.

Cregan scoffs.

“I invited you, you idiot.”

“Oh, right, right,” Aegon replies with a carefree laugh, ”I'm sorry I didn't go. I had another little party. Aemond was there too, wasn't he, little brother?”

Aemond's silence is immediate and deafening. He says nothing, and that makes the atmosphere suddenly heavy, for you.

And something inside you twists. And you look down at your notebook, trying to control your emotions and everything you're thinking. But you can't.

A party. He was at a party, on your birthday.

“And how was that party?” asks Cregan.

“Oh, fun, as always,” Aegon replies with a light tone. “They were our childhood friends, the Baratheons, the Tyrells, the Martells, and the Lannisters.”

Your heart stops for an instant.

Lannister.

That last name weighs on your mind like a rock.

“Yeah, it was really fun,” Aegon continues with a smile, “Even Aemond had a good time.”

The sound of his scandalous laughter fills the air, but is suddenly interrupted by Aemond's cold, cutting voice.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The elder only shrugs with a smirk and raises both hands in surrender.

“Oh, fucking spare me. You know how it is with him,” he says while at the same time starting to get up, ”First he's fine and then suddenly he turns into fucking Maleficent, like at that party.”

He waves a lazy goodbye as the guys wave goodbye to him. And you get caught up in his words.

Even Aemond had a good time.

Now you understand. He forgot your birthday because he was with them, with Cerelle.

A pang of pain runs through your chest at the thought of what that implies, of what probably happened between the two of them.

And whatever it was, it didn't end well, because afterwards he went to the pub and he was so distant, so quiet, so cold and so upset that that's why he said those ugly words to you and treated you the way he treated you.

Otherwise, he would have stayed with her and you wouldn't have seen him on your birthday.

Still, the betrayal in your chest is palpable and growing bigger. He still showed up, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't forgotten you on your fucking birthday.

You press your lips together, trying to hold back the tears. You won't give him the pleasure of seeing you break. Not now, not here. Least of all when you feel his gaze on you, his gaze intent, fixed and more insistently on you now that you know.

With a new bitterness settling in your chest, you refuse to give him what he seeks. You keep your eyes anywhere but on him, resisting the storm of emotions that threatens to overflow inside you.

A few long minutes pass with the guys making any topic of conversation and that stare starts to bother you more and more, so you decide you've had enough and start putting away all your books and notebooks.

“I have to go now. I can't be late for my next class,” you let them know as you get up with all your stuff, ”I'll see you guys later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

“See ya.”

You settle your backpack on your shoulder and with your phone in hand, you start walking away from them towards your corresponding building.

And as you walk away, a notification comes to your phone, followed by another. You stare at the screen and your breath catches for a moment, reading the texts, from him.

Are you fucking serious?

How long are you going to keep this shit up?

You scoff, shaking your head slightly. You don't even open the chat to let him know you've read it. And in fact, with a bitter look on your face and a new hurt feeling, you block him.

The first week of vacation, you went to visit your Mom in Highgarden.

It wasn't a difficult decision because you knew a few days away from Kings Landing would do you good. And being with your Mom and younger brothers you knew it would be just enough to keep you busy and spend time with all of them.

Sara sent you pictures and videos of her time in the mountains of Winterfell, enjoying big cozy cabins and fancy hot tubs.

For a moment you regretted turning down her invitation, but as you laughed and played with your brothers, you were happy to be with them after so many months without seeing them.

You also sent him pictures of your home, the lake in the garden, flowers and the big woods, as well as selfies of you and your brothers. Through the group chat, Cregan and Jason also sent pictures of their vacations, both of them at the beach and tanning.

One thing you noticed, inevitably, was the absence of Aemond.

He usually doesn't send messages or pictures of what he's doing. But you assumed he would when he was in Dragonstone, maybe even a picture or two. But nothing. Complete silence. Just like you.

You blocked him from social media too. He has no way of knowing what you're doing and where, just as you have no way of knowing about him. And it was a kind of relief you hadn't experienced about him before. It was good to breathe and not be on the lookout to recognize red hair near him.

And the more it made you realize how much better off you are without getting involved with him.

In fact, you stayed home for more than two weeks. You couldn't help it after your brothers asked you to stay with them longer. Until you finally let Sara know you were going back to Kings Landing the next day.

It wasn't a hard goodbye, but your Mom and brothers were sad. You promised to come back, like you do every year on the next vacation. And finally you get on that plane.

It's not a long trip, thankfully. And when you land, surprisingly it's raining. The weather is cloudy, cold and perfect for welcoming you in to watch movies curled up in your bed.

So you order an Uber and soon you're on your way to your residence, letting Sara know of your movements at all times, just as she keeps bragging to you about her days in those comfy cabins.

As you arrive, the rain is still pouring down and you run towards the doors with your suitcase in one hand and the other protecting your head, even though you are already partially wet.

You enter the building, shaking off the water, and climb to the second floor. With your keys already in hand, you start thinking about what you're going to have for dinner and what movie will be the first of your marathon.

But then, you notice something.

Or rather, someone.

In front of your door, sitting on the floor with his head slightly tilted down, there is someone. Surprise forces you to slow your steps and your breathing quickens slightly as you recognize him, even before he looks up.

Aemond.

He turns his head towards you and his one visible eye meets yours. His expression is a strange mix between seriousness and something else… something softer, more vulnerable.

His lips are pressed together and the raindrops that surely reached him glisten on the ends of his hair. For a moment, you stand frozen in the hallway, not knowing what to say or do, with the sound of the rain out there filling the silence between the two of you.

You don't know exactly how long it takes, that you swallow hard and finally speak, taking a couple of cautious steps towards him.

“Aemond?”

He doesn't say anything. He makes what appears to be a defeated gesture and rises from the ground, letting you see his profile straight ahead. He has the same look as before, with his hoddie's cap pulled up over his hair and he leans against the hallway wall behind him, looking at you and nothing else.

You shake your head, not understanding.

“What are you doing here?”

You ask him in surprise and confusion. And inevitably, seeing his state, you shouldn't but begin to worry about him. Has something bad happened to him?

“You didn't go to Dragonstone?” you ask him later as you remember, feeling more confused than before.

What is he doing here instead of enjoying his vacation at his family's huge, luxurious beachside mansion?

And he finally speaks in his low, soft tone.

“No.”

You frown, only with his answer creating more questions in your mind.

“And what are you doing here? How did you know I was coming back today?”

“I asked Sara.”

You part your lips, confused.

“Why would she tell you that?”

“You blocked me from everywhere, Y/N,” he tells you in a low, obvious tone, as if he had no choice.

Confusion and anger slowly begins to creep up on you. But you know you can't be upset with Sara, not with her. None of the boys know what you had with Aemond, they didn't even suspect it then and they certainly won't now.

Surely she saw it as a casual question, something insignificant, as if he had asked her about anyone else. So you can't be bothered. However, you begin to feel the awkwardness, as well as the slight sense of betrayal in your chest. And the bitterness.

“You haven't told me what you're doing here.”

“I need to talk to you,” he says, taking a step toward you.

“About what?” you ask him instantly, confused and with a defensive tone, clearly annoyed.

Everything you have done regarding him, blocking him, not speaking to him anymore and walking away, is more than enough to make him understand that you no longer want to have anything to do with him.

And you know he understands that, so why is his need to keep doing this? Asking for you and looking for you?

You are sick of this situation.

And Aemond, noticing this, your look, which you've never given him before, before your birthday, is not something he's used to. Neither is your tone of voice and the distance you keep from him, when before you always wanted to be near him, almost all the time.

He feels more guilty and like an idiot than ever.

He lowers his gaze, trying to find a way not to keep fucking this up, to be able to talk to you, to let him into your life again. Then, just like he used to be with you when it was just the two of you, he drops his strong walls and for the first time, he comes across in the most honest and sincere way to you.

“I miss you.”

Your body immediately tenses as you hear those two words come out of his mouth. His voice, lower and laden with a sincerity you didn't expect, cuts your breath for a moment.

Your first impulse is to want to laugh, not out of amusement, but as a bitter, incredulous reaction.

And without saying anything, you watch him seriously, waiting for him to say something else, something that would make sense of his presence here, in the rain, in front of your door. But he doesn't.

He just watches you, his shoulders slightly down, and that vulnerability that he rarely lets show in him.

And seeing that you don't react, that you're still watching him even in that way, in that way he's not used to, when before it was a tender and loving look, now there's none of that… he hates it.

So he hurries to speak again, to explain himself, to make you understand.

“I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to tell you all that on your birthday. You didn't deserve it and I'm sorry. I was an idiot,” he says, ”But I miss you and that's why I'm here.”

You shake your head slightly, watching him earnestly and attentively, while at the same time folding your arms, in an attempt to protect yourself from the wave of emotions that threatens to attack you.

He looks at you pleadingly and you look at him serious, disinterested, with the distance marked and the bitterness still inside you.

“That's it?”

His face contracts slightly in frustration.

“Y/N—

“If that's all, you can go,” you interrupt him, quickly pushing past him with your suitcase in hand and trying to get into your dorm room as fast as you can to leave him behind.

But you knew you wouldn't make it.

His hand immediately takes you gently but firmly by your arm, stopping you and turning you back to him so he can see your face and speak to you.

“No, that's not all,” he tells you instantly, “I-I… I want things to go back to the way they used to be.”

“And how were things between the two of you before exactly?” you inquire, taking a decisive step toward him, “You want to go back to the whole ‘no strings attached’ thing? To seeing each other in secret and me still just being your convenient fuck and nothing else? That's what you want?”

Your tone is a poison dart, and you see him recoil, as if your every word burns him. His jaw tenses, but he doesn't say anything right away.

“Say it, “you challenge him, taking a step closer, your eyes boring into his, ”Tell me it wasn't just that. Tell me it wasn't just… that I wasn't just—

Your voice cracks, and you hate that it does. Because even though you're upset, even though you want to stay strong, it's too much. He still affects you even more intensely than he did before.

He looks at you, his lips parted, as the rain continues to fall outside.

“That's what I thought,” you whisper at last, releasing yourself from his grip.

You hold the keys more firmly in your hand, avoiding shaking, to insert it into the lock of your door. But he, not wanting it to end like this, stops you.

“You never said anything. You seemed fine with all of it. Now why the sudden change?”

You close your eyes tightly, no longer able to hold back the tears in your eyes. The bitterness, the sadness, the pain, the betrayal, everything stirs inside you. It hurts you and there seems to be no end to it, because again you turn to face him.

And seeing the tears threatening to run down your cheeks, something in his gaze softens, not expecting to see you like this.

“Are you fucking serious?” you say to him almost in a whisper in a shaky, bitter voice, “After what you did, what you said, how do you expect me to be okay to keep being with you?”

He lets out a long breath.

“Y/N… you weren't just that. You never were. And I… I was upset that day. And I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I know that. But I promise you weren't just that to me.”

You shake your head, not believing his words for a second. Not anymore.

“The thing here is, your words don't mean anything to me anymore.”

He takes a step toward you.

“I didn't mean to… I didn't think that—

“That's the problem, Aemond, you never think of anyone but yourself,” you interrupt him in a harsh, annoyed voice, ”Everything is always about what you want, what's convenient for you.”

He shakes his head.

“That's not true—

“Of course it is,” you take a shaky breath and your words coming out softer, but no less sharp, “ And even now, after all, you don't understand how much you meant to me. Because I didn't matter to you, ever.”

No matter how many times he tells you that it was not so, you will not believe him, because he did not necessarily prove to you before something that can prove his words. There are no facts, there is nothing.

And that same bitterness, makes you finally be brave, speak up, get it off your chest. So you don't let him talk so you can get it over with once and for all.

“You know what happened?” you ask, ”I got feelings. That's what happened.”

And there it is. You've said it.

Those words you never said long ago so as not to scare him away from you, how you knew it would happen, without putting you and what you felt first. But still, without having said it before, you ended up with a broken heart.

The weight of your words falls between the two of you like an invisible wall, so palpable you can almost touch it. Aemond seems to freeze, his eyes anchored on yours.

“That's why things can't go back to the way they were, because, of course, that's not what you want. What you want is an idiot who is at your beck and call whenever and however you want her to be.”

Your words hit him unexpectedly.

And the change in his expression is immediate. All the vulnerability he had shown disappears from his face.

And once again you are in front of the Aemond everyone knows; the cold, distant, serious and inexpressive Aemond. His gaze, once pleading and remorseful, becomes hard and distant.

His jaw visibly tenses and you notice how his shoulders square, adopting that defensive posture you know so well.

“Don't say that,” his voice comes out low, strained. “It wasn't like that.”

“It wasn't?” you inquire, pursing your lips, ”You said I was just a convenient fuck. I'm sure you can find someone else, then.”

Every word comes like poison from your lips, and though it pains you to say them, you know they're true. You see it in the way his face contorts slightly, as if your words have hit him where it hurts the most.

But he maintains that typical attitude of his, that mask of indifference he has perfected over the years.

You wait for him to contradict you, to deny it, to try to justify it. But nothing. He says nothing. He just stands there, staring at you seriously, jaw clenched and looking like he's having an internal fight, struggling against his thoughts, not knowing what to do or what to say.

And you again press your lips together, having enough of this.

”Get out.”

And he finally reacts, lowering his gaze and letting out a deep sigh, pursing his lips and looking at you again with a serious look.

“I can't give you what you want, Y/N.”

“But you do want me to give you what you want,” you say firmly and curtly, “Because Cerelle didn't, right?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can think about what you're going to say. But there it is, you've said it too.

His lips part, his whole body tenses, watching you in surprise and mild confusion, definitely not expecting that from you. And there, you leave him speechless, trying to understand how it is that you know about her.

And although for a second you look unsure about what you've said and regretful, you also decide that you're not going to keep quiet about it any longer. And you continue, with bitterness in your eyes and in your tone of voice.

“You forgot my birthday, because of her,” you say, each word like a dagger, ”You were late because you were with her.”

“How do you know about her?” he asks you instantly, his voice like ice.

You swallow hard softly, holding his gaze despite the pain it causes you.

Of course he would ask you that.

“I noticed something between you, when she went to the same parties as us,” you reply, “The way you looked at her, how your mood changed when she appeared and when you both disappeared,” you say with those moments replaying in your mind, still so present, “And then Aegon, drunk as usual, told me a few things.”

“What did he tell you?” he again asks you instantly, serious and thoughtful.

The rigidity in his body, the tension, is more evident now, as is the vulnerability and sadness in you as you talk about her. And you avert your gaze, with every word coming out of your mouth aching, but needing to say it all.

“That the two of you had a thing. That you're in love with her, but she's not in love with you.”

The muscle in his jaw tenses so tight you fear he'll break his teeth, his breathing grows heavier, and for a moment, you see a flash of raw pain in his eyes before the mask of coldness falls back into place.

“The worst part is that I've known that for a while now,” you continue, your voice cracking slightly despite your best efforts, ”I kept hoping I meant more to you than just your way of filling that void.”

For a moment, your mask of coldness cracks. But only for a moment. And you see a glimmer, of something deeper in her gaze. Guilt? Remorse?

But just as it appears, it vanishes. You notice how his hands open and close at his sides, a nervous gesture he rarely displays. His gaze again seems to search for something on the floor, before meeting your gaze again.

And when he finally speaks, his voice comes out lower, more controlled, as if each word is carefully measured.

“That was never my intention.”

It's almost as if the words hurt as they come out, as if a part of him wants to say more but doesn't know how. And you scoff, incredulous.

“Sure, you didn't mean to treat me as your second option and break my heart with every cold, disinterested attitude every time she came back to break yours?”

The silence that follows is heavy, laden with all the unsaid things between you.

“I can't give you what you want,” he repeats resignedly, watching you seriously.

“Then leave.”

“Y/N—

“No,” you interrupt him instantly, stepping back instinctively, ”I'm done here. I'm done with you. So leave. Don't come looking for me, ever again, do you understand? I don't want anything to do with you anymore.”

You are clear in your words. You're not playing games. You're not hesitating for a second. And you're being terribly honest.

Something snaps inside you, but there's also something starting to break free. There's no turning back now and you both know it, because this time, finally, you chose to put yourself first.

So you walk into your dorm room, while he stands in the middle of the hallway, not saying or doing anything else. And then you close the door.

AEMOND POV

There is something off… in the way you are no longer around.

It shows in the small details, the way you slowly disappeared from his life. In the way a message with your name no longer appears on his phone, nor a call.

In the way he was unconsciously so used to visiting you in your dorm or your going to his apartment. The way you used to fall asleep next to him in his big bed. The way you would make breakfast for the two of you before you went to class.

The way you both exchanged subtle glances when you were in a group with the guys or at parties. The way in secret encounters, stolen kisses in the shadows and passionate moments in his bedroom.

But there was also the way you always waited for him.

That's a thought that hits him with the force of a delayed revelation, something his own selfishness kept him from seeing before.

When he would ignore your texts or calls, when he wouldn't meet you, when he would cancel plans at the last minute, when he would disappear for days and barely be around, for her… for Cerelle.

Even on his bad days, after every fight with her, he would come back and there you were, without protest or asking for explanations. And then it was back to the usual routine; all secret. And casual.

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. He looks at the clock on his nightstand; midnight. He can't sleep. His mind keeps him awake, because all he can think about, is you.

Since the day of your birthday, specifically, you've tormented his mind. Ever since he knew he fucked up, ever since you stopped answering his texts, calls, to ignoring him even when he was in front of you and leaving him behind, you haven't stopped rolling around in his mind.

He was supposed to be right now in Dragonstone, enjoying his vacation, like everyone else before the new semester crushes him with new difficulties, responsibilities and pressures.

But he decided not to go, because he couldn't. Because you were supposed to go with him.

He doesn't even want to admit how much that idea excited him. The two of you had made the plan, you were supposed to go with him. But when you canceled, without even telling him directly, it disappointed him in a way he didn't expect.

But he doesn't blame you. He can't. Not after what he did.

He's too proud though, too stubborn to accept it ending like this. He refuses to let you go, even when you've made it perfectly clear that you want nothing more to do with him. He can't help but seek you out, pursue you, unaware of the damage he continues to cause.

That's why he went looking for you. But he had already lost you, for a while now.

And he misses you. By the Gods, how he misses you.

He took you for granted, thinking you would always be there for him, even with his bad moods and his habit of taking it out on others, like he did on your birthday.

A growl of frustration escapes his throat as he brings a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly.

The memory of that day haunts him like a curse. Not only did he ruin everything between you two, but he did it on your birthday. Your damn birthday that he forgot.

Guilt and regret flood him inside as he lies in his bed. And every memory, every mental image is a reminder of what he has lost because of his own stupidity.

How could he have been so blind? So selfish?

The silence of the night is deafening, interrupted only by the soft ticking of the clock and his own breathing. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but sleep refuses to take him.

Not when your voice echoes in his mind, repeating those words, “I kept waiting to mean more to you than just your way of filling that void.”

Suddenly, the silence is broken by the ringing of his phone. His heart violently flips in his chest, and for a moment, he thinks it might be you. His hands move with almost desperate speed to reach for his phone.

But hope dies quickly when he sees the name on the screen; Cerelle.

He stands completely still, watching the screen light up again and again with her call. And for the first time, something changes inside him. Instead of the usual anxious fluttering in his stomach when he sees her name, instead of that compulsive need to answer immediately, he feels… nothing.

Or maybe not nothing. He feels tiredness. A deep, overwhelming tiredness.

He knows exactly why she's calling. He can picture it perfectly, another fight with Aegon, tears in her voice, needing someone to listen to her, to comfort her. Needing him, not because she really wants him, but because it's convenient.

Because she knows he is always there, waiting like an idiot, ready to pick up the pieces his brother leaves behind.

“It wasn't your intention to treat me like your second choice? To break my heart with every cold, disinterested attitude every time she came back to break yours?”

The irony is not lost on him, he did to you exactly what Cerelle does to him. He used you to fill a void, to not feel so alone, so unloved.

The phone stops ringing, only to start again almost immediately. This time, however, he feels no hesitation. With a decisive move, he turns it off completely, cutting off the call and any chance of further messages.

He drops back onto the bed, his mind inevitably drifting back to you. It's as if he can't help himself, as if all his thoughts have a direct path to your memory.

He sees your face with a clarity that hurts him, the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, how your nose crinkled slightly when something bothered you, the softness of your cheeks when you blushed, the way your hair fell over your face when you concentrated on something.

Your lips… the way they curved into a smile, how they felt against his, the taste of your kisses. Every detail of you is burned into his memory.

The silence of the night seems to taunt him, reminding him of all the times he could have done things differently, all the opportunities he had to value you as you deserved and wasted thinking of someone else.

He lost you because of his own stupidity, because of his inability to see what was in front of him until it was no longer there. For chasing an illusion with Cerelle while he had something real with you.

And now, it's too late.

thank you for reading!

[theocddiaries]

Amy: Well, if you don't want to help with Shadow's birthday party, I won't force you. Sonic: Thanks. Amy: But you're staying with him to distract him until I give you the green light. Sonic: Me? With that guy? Not a chance. Amy: Sonic--! Sonic: No, no, I will not! Every time I open my mouth when he's around, I screw up. FLASHBACKS 1. [At a potluck, the group is sitting at a table] Knuckles: I just don’t get how you can't like the series! Sonic: Because the plot makes no sense. If you like it, good for you. But to me, it makes no sense for people to treat you like a doormat, and then you go work with them. That guy has no dignity or self-respect-- [Shadow arrives at the table, slams his plate down, and walks away] Sonic: …Oh. Shadow, no, we were talking about a show, it's-- Rouge: Sonic, Sonic, maybe just don’t go after him. 2. [At GUN, Sonic is talking to Abraham] Sonic: You can’t just send that walking weapon. And if you do, at least make sure it’s got all its screws in place, ‘cause every time you send that thing out, it makes everything worse-- [Shadow slams some papers on the desk and leaves] Sonic: …Oh. No, Shadow! [runs to the door]: Shadow, no, I wasn’t talking about you, I meant the other machine-- I mean! The metal one, I mean… I love working with you! You’re doing amazing! …Damn it. 3. [At a party, Sonic is talking to Amy] Amy: How’s it going with Yacker? [Rouge and Shadow walk up to the bar, chatting. Only Amy notices because Sonic has his back turned] Sonic: I can’t sleep peacefully with that alien running around. I don't know what to expect from the guy. I hope they come to get him back to him planet soon, so we can have some peace-- [Shadow sighs, puts his glass down, and walks away] Sonic: …Oh. No, wait… Shadow, I meant another alien! No, I mean, yes, but-- Damn it. PRESENT TIME Amy: For the love of Gaia, Sonic… Sonic: And that’s just what I remember from last week… Rouge: But I thought you talked it out with him? Sonic: Yeah, talking it out was the final nail in the coffin… FLASHBACK Sonic: Shadow, I know you’ve overheard things that weren’t exactly… I mean, they were because I said them, and words are words. But what I mean is that you didn’t understand them right. Not that I'm saying you don't know English, I’m sure you do, because you’re a very smart thing. But you were hearing conversations out of context--not saying you were eavesdropping, not at all, you’re a super respectful thing. But these were things discussed within the group--not that you’re not part of the group. You’re a thing— I know I keep calling you a thing. I swear to Gaia, this has never happened to me and I don't know why this thing--I mean… Look, uh… [grabs his hand and shakes it]: Nice chat, yeah? See you around. [bolts] PRESENT TIME Knuckles: Damn, so now he’s all sensitive? The guy who almost wiped out Earth without batting an eye…? Wait a sec… He did that for his sister. Shit, of course, he’s always been sensitive! Hey, what did I say back on that little floating thing in space, Sonic? I take my time to grasp things, but I get there eventually. Rouge: The fact that my brother has to work for an organization that hates him just so they can keep him on a leash, and meanwhile, you get to run free… I just don’t get life.

[freeluigihesbae]

𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 6

(3,685 words)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

summary:

luigi fell in love with you for those sparkling eyes where his dreams of falling in love first came true. but how did it happen?

𝗍𝗐: 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏 (𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽), 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗅𝗎, 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌), 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗅, 𝖭𝖮 𝖯𝖱𝖮𝖮𝖥𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦

~

"How can I do this?" You're crouched on the ground, trying to get through the next minute without feeling ridiculously guilty. It was harsh to shut the door on Luigi because your point went both ways.

Neither of you are hurting alone. You're both hurting because it impacted you both.

When you saw those texts, it tore at your happiness because you knew Luigi would be getting dragged too. You figured it was the same, and you were right, because you didn't know about how he punched the wall, screamed at the students, and stomped through the halls in reaction to everything that was going on.

For Luigi, all of this was representing a sense of immaturity that he hated. For you, you were just in pain.

But you loved him.

Upon checking your phone, you realize it's only been 15 minutes since you slammed the door closed. The raindrops will still slamming down on the pavement outside, akin to what you'd call torrential rainfall. After all the pain, the pettiness, the ridiculousness of it all paired with Luigi holding those flowers-

There is no way in hell you were going to lose the one chance of having someone right for you. You certainly made mistakes and honestly, how fair was it to keep twisting the knife in the flesh when the point has been made?

You stand up, wobbly but ignoring the feverish sensation pulsing throughout your body. Slowly, the irritations trying to claw at your energy seemed to melt away the more you think about Luigi.

Luigi Mangione.

The man who stole your heart the moment you stared at him with your glossy eyes.

The man whose heart you stole the moment he looked at your glossy eyes.

The feeling is mutual.

You just had to be sure of it.

In the same clothes, drenched in the rain water that's making your skin itch, you open the door and step outside, determined to limp as fast as possible and give zero care to how idiotic you'd look trying to romantically visualize your intense pining for Luigi by making your way to his place.

But before any of that can happen, your heart breaks a little more than you possibly think it could.

Luigi was there the whole time, slid down on the ground and seemingly asleep, unbeknownst to the water that has made his clothes practically useless, as the t-shirt has now drenched to the point of showing his creamy skin that's breathing in and out with a wonderfully melancholy innocence.

The flowers have fallen over the steps up to your apartment, face down in the puddle that's likely pooled down in the grass. The bag, however, is still saddled to his hand, luckily protected because of its material.

"No no no no no, Lu." You drop to your knees, crying as you shake him hard. His body is jelly in your hands, moving side to side but showing no sign of solidifying in an effort to combat your movement. You hike a leg over him, sliding a hand underneath the side of his cheek that's stuck on the pavement, sobbing his name out repeatedly as you clasp his face and lower yours down.

You watch the water drops rapidly drip from his eyelashes, which are perfectly curved. It's splayed itself all over his cold, weak body as you curse at yourself, wondering how things got so horribly deteriorated to this point.

"Luigi I'm so s-sorry I'm so stupid-" You whisper towards the end of your apology, feeling lost with how you're going to fix the situation in front of you. He's breathing fine, but he just won't wake up no matter what you do.

You should be calling someone. What if he's just not okay?

But you're selfish. You can't help but scoop his head into your palm and let your teardrops only add to the streams of water that have been trailing his beautiful face the entire time, feeling ashamed to see the flowers that he picked out getting buried under mud and rainwater. You can't help but look at him and forget what has been happening so far, only wishing that he just looks back at your with those illuminating eyes and tell you he loves you as much you love him.

"L-Lu I'm so sorry. I'm sorry things h-have happened like this I j-just-" You pause, imagining that he's listening to you, before swallowing and continuing. "This is so stupid but I'm in love with you. Don't you get it I don't just love you I'm in love with you Luigi and everything that's happened is-is- I'm not going to let it come in the way of us but is it s-s-so stupid to think that you love me too?" Your straighten yourself out before draping your body over his, sobbing into the crook of his shoulder as you let the sobs racking your being present themselves as the best attempt of trying to wake him.

"Is it so stupid to think you're in love with me too?" You lift your head up and whisper into his ear, rolling your eyes at the thoughts flooding your mind, which keep wishing this was a situation that could be pulled straight from Beauty and the Beast or some other fairytale where just the right kiss or words would awaken him.

But you're left dumbfounded and heartbroken when Luigi is still peacefully breathing, giving you no reassurance that this situation could be fixed. You stare at him, swallowing and closing your eyes in defeat, before grabbing your phone to call someone. Your fingers are shaking as you trying to clean the water off of your phone, worsened by the water droplets coming out of your eyes and making everything harder.

You finally manage to find the campus emergency number, shaking as you press the number and the phone asks you to confirm your action. You gulp and close your eyes, sobbing harder with new waves of heartbreak as you press-

"Bambi." You feel a hard, steady hand wrapped around your wrist and it sends you into shock, your mouth agape as you let your phone slide out of your hand, lurching into his arms. You didn’t realize, but he was sitting upright, fully awake, now circling around your body as you cry into his chest, repeating apology after apology and looking back up at him.

With the same eyes that brought you two together in the first place.

“Oh bambi,” Luigi feels himself nearly pass out, seeing the way your eyes glistened and yet, he didn’t waste a moment before smashing his lips onto yours, smiling at the way that even in shock, you let him in.

The desire to taste was mutual.

Luigi’s tongue explores your mouth, sliding over your lips and back inside, never entirely detaching as you let out little gasps, fighting the confusion, arousal, desire, and pain all at once. It was a lot, but through all of it, the one thing that stood out was happiness.

“L-Lu.” You forcibly and reluctantly pull back from his lips, watching his expression morph into slight irritation which get the words tumbling from your lips quicker than you expect.

“I’m sorry I was so har-“ “No.” He says a single word that silences your coming apology, leaving you wide-eyed.

“I’m the one who has to fucking apologize, bambi. I should’ve been a man, holding you and comforting you and instead all I did was slap you like everyone else did. I am sorry. I am so sorry and as much as I love holding you,” you listen while noting how dangerously close his lips are on yours again. “I need to show it to you. Need you to let me make you feel like I’m sorry bambi.” His lips are upon yours once again, ravaging every sound and movement you make as you feel yourself shiver at the authority in his touch and tone.

You nod fervently as he kisses you, and it does the trick in making him pick you up, strong hands on either underside of your thigh which makes you yelp.

“L-Lu you’re s-sick we shouldn’t d-do this.” You grab his collar as he has you taut against the door, your own top having been soaked, making you shiver when it’s cold, cool surface sends shivers throughout your body. Luigi stops his ministrations, grabbing your chin with one hand to force your sight down to his.

“I’m the one who decides that bambi. I’m the one who’s g’nna do whatever I want as long as you want it. So tell me, d’ya want this?” His hand releases your chin, now moving ever-so-lightly down your neck and between your breasts, which make your back arch. He watches you whimper and close those beautiful eyes, before the residual tears in them run down your face as you nod.

He tuts in disapproval.

“Say it. Say that you want me to show you sorry I am bambi.” He orders it, really, for you to order him back but you can’t help but think the actual authority is his hands.

“Want it.” You breath it out, still squirming in his hold which gets harder when he grabs your neck, pulling it closer to his face.

“I said use your fucking words but to make a sentence.” Luigi slaps the side of your thigh, pinning you to the door with even greater pressure. The sting makes a little cry escape your lips. “Let them fall from those lips bambi. Let the words hiding behind those perfect, beautiful little doe eyes of yours free because those will be the last coherent words you’ll be saying for a while.” Luigi’s voice becomes impossibly deeper, warning you of the consequences that lie if you dare to miss the chance to demand reparation from him.

So be it. Because you know you want him bad.

“I-I want you to show me how sorry you a-are Luigi.” You whimper the words out as coherently as possible and thankfully, that does it, because your door is wrenched open and slammed shut before you can comprehend the speed, and you’re (gently) placed on the bed, contrasted with the haste in which he’s once again kissing your lips, biting and pulling at them as if taste every inch that you have to offer.

“O-Oh.” Your moan is divine, sickly sweet to his ears as his own eyes nearly flutter from how angelic and dirty it sounds, the paradox sending his philosophical mind into dizzy circles as he repeats his actions, letting his hands dig into every nook and corner of your skin.

“’M sorry bambi.” He mutters these words before ripping your soaked top off, earning a soul-deep gasp that makes the blood rush between your legs. His eyes are trained on yours, smirking as he watches the confusion and desire swirl your eyes.

“Y’know why I call you bambi?” Luigi is kneeling on the bed, between your outstretched legs that are limp over the top his thighs on either side. He takes his shirt off, displaying his toned abdomen for you to feast on but you remember his question.

His hands are on you in an instant, but this time, they both press down around your windpipe.

“Need to answer. F’ckin’ use your words bambi because I’m desperate to hear you.” There’s a pleading so obviously and desperately aching in his voice, that your eyes widen further because how is he exerting so much control while submitting his guilt to your dirty and nasty desires? You nod your head, opening your lips to get a word out but he’s crushing you harder, tightening with every second.

“It’s ‘cause of those eyes. The way your eyes are goin’ all wide on me ‘n you’re so lost?” He ends his tone rhetorically, cooing as your eyes roll from the lack of air. He lets go before watching you cough and you breathily let your words out.

“D-Didn’t know that.” You let out an ah almost immediately after, tilting your had back before his hand is in your hair, pulling you up towards him.

“Keep those eyes on me. I need to see those bambi eyes while I’m saying sorry.” His hands grab a pillow to support your neck so you can obey his wish, whispering a yes after he speaks. His fingers then travel to your breasts, pulling at the buds without any mercy. It’s hard, as you try but you can’t help but arch your neck back, trying to get away from the pain that’s also making your core even more wet.

“’Said don’t fuckin’ take your eyes away.” Luigi pulls particularly hard and you scream, gasping for air as you attempt to close your legs but no, his hands are coming down, pinning them to the bed as your bottom lip quivers and he bends down, speaking filth into your face.

“Want you to see how sorry I am. That means you take everything I give you baby. Y’ understand?” Luigi asks and you respond.

“Y-Yes Lu.” You gulp and he watches, noting how your throat slightly expands and contracts at the saliva you’re swallowing down, making him breath in hard as his own pants are straining against his cock.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl.” Upon which, gets to work, letting his mouth go slack as he sucks on the sensitive breasts that are shaking, side-to-side with the aggression he exerts which prompt him to always keep a free hand on the one his mouth is not on. Your eyes flutter but you try your very best to keep them on his curly hair and smooth forehead, which are in constant movement as he sends waves of pleasure through your body. You bite your lip, almost sure you’re drawing blood.

“You f-feel so good.” Your voice goes higher because he just happen to place a finger under your skirt, making small circles that elicit beautifully inspiring whimpers, that only drive his fantasies further.

“Do I? I’m g’nna make you feel better bambi ‘cause I’m so sorry.” Luigi bites down on a bud that makes your teeth dig into your lip and you feel a drop of blood tickling you as it slides down your neck. Luigi raises his eyebrows before sticking his tongue out, licking a thick, moist stripe up your neck and jaw to swallow it. His fingers are now rubbing faster on your clit and you wiggle, wanting more friction.

“Keep track of how many times I saw I’m sorry. If you remember correctly,” Luigi gives your cunt a hard slap that makes you shake, making him smile in satisfaction. “I’ll let you cum. But if not, we’re g’nna do this all over again until you get it right ‘cause if not, it means you don’t get how sorry I am.” He takes the liberty to slap your face, just enough to get his point across.

“F-Fuck.” You moan out while you feel your skirt being tugged off with care, Luigi taking his time while it rides over your cast and once it’s off, he takes one hand to pull your gusset to the side before using his other arm to circle your waist and tug your legs over your shoulder.

He stares, licking his lips at how glorifying your wetness is, watching your entrance clench and unclench in anticipation.

“Oh bambi,” He leans in closer, keeping his eyes trained while you whine and stare at his narrowed, darkened eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Count one, because after that, his lips are devouring your sensitive cunt, licking and lapping up the juices that you produce as you throw your head back and attempt to grab his hair, which prompts him to quickly shift his position and give you better access.

Which he does all without detaching his sticky lips from your cunt.

“’M fuckin’ sorry. You got that?” His speaking against your folds, feeling the way you tighten before sticking a single finger inside and pumping you. “’Fuckin’ sorry ‘cause I’m an idiot right? Jus’ a fuckin’ idiot.” He keeps up, pulling the hood of your sensitive spot back and narrowing his lips on it, making you shiver and cry from pleasure. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot. Say it.” He commands you while licking around the dub, watching your eyes widen a little more every time. It invigorates his already frenzy-filled mind.

“L-Lu- f-f-f-“ “Say I’m a fuckin’” He pauses before biting the spot and you let out a drawn out cry, panting as it sends you just a few seconds away from your orgasm and you cry it out.

“Y-You’re a fuckin’ IDIOT L-Lu y’r so f’ckin’ dumb oh FUCK!” He pumps in a few more fingers with impossible speed and sucks even harder, which sends your orgasm to literally crash into you and down between your legs as you shake and squirm at how skillfully he continues to assault your cunt, desperately trying to get away but his firm, unrelenting hands keep you right in place.

“You’re going to take it because I am sorry.” But he lets go, lifting himself up and lowering himself down onto your lips, forcing you to taste his essence as you gift him with high-pitched little whimpers that drive him insane.

“I love you so much. Love your eyes. Love your body. Love how innocent and fuckin’ adorable you are. It’s all in those eyes.” And you think he’ll give you a break, a moment to re-coop. But no.

Actually, you’re the one who can’t wait.

You push yourself up, yanking his belt and button off which Luigi complements, before letting his length free and your mouth water, going down to taste but the hand in your hair again lets you know better, pulling you back to tell you better as he speaks.

“I’m gonna make you feel good bambi, not the other way around. On your tummy.” He lets go but you’re still looking up at him, whimpering from how overwhelming this situation is.

Suddenly, your cheek stings because he just slapped you.

“Said on your tummy pretty girl.” And instead of waiting for you, he grabs your waist and spins you around before using a palm to shove your head into the bed and ripping (once again) your panties off, before plunging himself straight inside and you scream.

Your words, ones that you wanted to scream, practically dissolve as you feel yourself becoming consumed by the exponentially increasing pleasure that pounds throughout your body.

“So sorry baby. Gonna pound you so you remember that, m’kay?” He asks you carelessly, groaning himself as he tries to fight how tightly you’re clenching around him.

Eventually, he makes his way inside, entirely claiming your sanity and ramming inside, repeating words of how he loves and adores you, rambling on about how your eyes remind him of galaxies but it all comes to a point when he’s letting his hands rain down on your ass, making your sychonized ngh ngh ngh noises get out of hand and irrationally out of pattern.

“I fucking love you bambi. I heard you. Heard you ‘cause I’m in love with you too.” He pulls you even tighter against him and you’re absolutely sure he’s bruised your cervix, panting as the sensations drive you crazy.

“Oh L-Luigi I love you- g’nna- AH!” He delivers a particularly hard slap and it makes you lurch forward, making him pull you back by his hand, which is eventually replaced by his bicep, flexing to make it harder to breathe.

He’s got you in a chokehold.

“How many times did I say ‘m sorry bambi? Hm? How many c’mon.” He takes his hand on your waist to slap you clit, making you pant harder as his biceps flex and tighten your neck.

“F-Five.” In truth, you actually guess, but he ends up humming, groaning with even more intensity because he drills into you faster and before you know, you’re babbling out words to beg him.

“Lemme cum lemme cum-“ And Luigi only squeezes harder, fucking up into you as he whispers in your ear.

“You’re the princess t’night. Cum for me.” And that does it, as you sob out from overstimulation because of his fingers rubbing incessantly over that pleasurable spot and his hand is retracted, letting you fall forward and support yourself on your arms.

He flips you around gently, lying you down on the bed before lying down next to you and tugging the sheets up to cover you both.

You’re still breathing heavily, picking up the pieces of your shame before you’re staring back Luigi with adoration.

~

“I’m so sorry bambi. I really mean it. I didn’t want to speak to you that way because I was just so out of my head and-“ Luigi is cut off by your finger coming up to touch his lips.

“It’s okay Lu. It’s completely fine. Entirely okay.” You smile before scooching forward to kiss his lips and he reciprocates, going soft and simple unlike his demeanor from earlier. His hand circles your waist and drags you closer before you realize.

“You didn’t c-“ “Don’t want to.” He cuts you off and your eyebrows furrow.

“I only wanted to make you feel good bambi. That’s enough for me for this homecoming night.” He says and it takes you a few seconds before your eyes go wide.

“Wait. WAIT. Homecoming is like-“ You look at the clock and realize it’s an hour past 7, which means it’s started already.

“Yeah-“ Luigi scratches the back of his head. “I actually brought a dress and suit over so we could celebrate homecoming but-“ He stops and you lean forward incredulously.

“But we could go out and celebrate ourselves.” He adds and somehow, you still don’t get it.

“Alone.” He supplies again and your mouth goes wide, shocked. But at the same time, it doesn’t seem like too bad of a proposal.

You stare at Luigi and at a loss of words, only lean down to kiss him again before pulling apart.

“I’d love that Lu.”

~

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[babybearnation]

Alpha driver!male reader (i headcannon that you get ur first rut/heat at like 13ish till then you smell like milk) who while being an alpha most of his life (reader is around 27) has only had one rut and that was his first one, charles(omega) lando(omega) and oscar(alpha) are concerned when reader goes into a rut and he literally can't think in a staight line (like eyes blank and no thoughts, Except him moving his hips into a pillow) and is in alot of pain when not touching atleast two of them, they take reader to a doctor they give him something while there so he's atleast coherent for an hour which leads to him explaining to the doc that this is in fact his second ever rut he's had in his life, after the doc get the info he tell lestappiatri that they need to help him if they want him to survive since most similar cases don't make it even with two partners, it ends up with them having an entire 2 weeks where 2 of them are fucking helping reader and the other is taking a break or getting them all food whenis slightly more coherent and able to eat (though those times don't last long before reader's begging to fuck or be fucked)

🥺🥺🥺

–🍑

apologies in advance, i have a feeling this is gonna be bad

omega!charles leclerc x omega!lando norris x male!alpha!reader x alpha!oscar piastri

cw: suggestive

you'd presented as an alpha at the normal age but, unlike normal, that very first rut was the only you'd had for about ten years

you were dating two lovely omegas as well as a wonderful alpha, but because of how new your relationship was, it took a while for your three boyfriends to realise that you didn't have ruts

until you fall into your second rut ever and your boyfriends rapidly learn the truth

luckily, it was very shortly after all the drivers were given free time for the off-season so you weren't being a potential inconvenience

charles, oscar & lando aren't sure what to do, watching you rut blank-eyed and mindless into a pillow over and over in a way that make oscar's unswelled knot twitch in pain

you always hissed when left with one or none of them in the room with you, so they took turns leaving to get things for you

after speaking to and arranging for a doctor to come over, charles tries to offer his body to you but you couldn't move to do anything about it and ultimately, charles backed off

the doctor comes over and gives you something to clear your rut for a small period of time

he asks you questions and charles, lando & oscar are horrified to discover that this was only your second rut

in an almost nightmarish situation, the doctor told you that you would need all three of your boyfriends help to have even a chance of avoiding falling really sick once your rut faded

the doctor prescribes you a rut-supporting medication before leaving, clearly aware that the momentary rut-supressing meds are about to wear off in only a handful of minutes

charles, lando & oscar aren't sure what's going to happen to you now but they take the remaining minutes of you being aware to get you to drink some water and eat a few slices of toast, concern evident in their voices and gazes

once the meds had fully worn off, however, you were insatiable all over again, falling back against the sheets and touching yourself over and over until lando nudged your hand away and sunk down on your cock himself, providing you that sweet, sweet relief you needed

charles leaned forward and kissed you, guiding your fingers to his slick hole, hoping it would help as well

oscar decides to play with your chest, wanting to be involved but not entirely sure what else he could do to bring you pleasure

neither of them were sure how long this would go on for but they were willing to get through it all with you because they loved you and couldn't understand how horrifying a situation like this must be to experience

and get through it they did because, before long, your rut finally passed and you were a coherent, yet very apologetic, alpha once more

your three boyfriends were instantly comforting you, promising that it was okay and hopefully, with the new medication, you'd fall into a steady rut rhythm

and you did! the medication timed your rut with lando's heat, that way you never went into it during the f1 on season

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[tvboaerosmith]

I thought it'd be good fun if I did a list like this for Smith and Neo, so I took one that looked interesting and this happened. Happy reading.

1. When did you start shipping them?

I first watched The Matrix somewhere around May or April of 2023. I didn't ship them on my initial watch through of the Matrix... It was just more of a gradual like for them as a pairing. I think I started concretely liking them around August 2023? In fact, the first ever ship related art I drew for the Matrix was Morpheus and Neo, and my first ship fic was quite literally *Merovingian* and Neo!

2. What do you like about them as individuals?

I'm surprised to say that what I love most about Neo isn't even actually his looks or his personality (even though I like these parts of him too) but rather what he represents. He's a second chance, freedom personified.

Though he was indeed a puppet in the end, I loved what he built for himself even as he was stuck to his role, how calm and collected he can be. He really is elegant, svelte, but that doesn't mean he's blank or wooden — It makes me smile that sometimes classic "90s badass hero" speech leaks through, like "Hiya fellas".

As for Smith, I initially only found his writing interesting. I cannot say I am attracted to Hugo Weaving. Gradually I understood his character more and more and found that I really can relate to him. Actually, people often call the Matrix movies a trans metaphor, and I feel like this metaphor for self discovery and struggle with the world can actually be found most in Smith?

Of course I'm not saying I think his character is trans, just that his problems really felt like mine. I like that he's such a lonely character in perfect parallel to how popular Neo is, I like that he is the perfect personification of bigotry because people hate what they do not understand because they are crucially scared of it just the way Smith is terrified.

He reminds me of a child grappling tearfully at things he just can't understand, because he simply has a mental blockade to these things because he was made and bred and raised in a totally different purpose and world than that of Neo's.

3. What about their dynamic appeals to you?

Actually, I often see others say their appeal is in Smith and Neo as the classic enemies to lovers troupe. I admit a lot of my favourite ships fall under this too, but I've always viewed Smith and Neo's story as one of redemption and one of a second chance.

Smith represents somebody who doesn't fit into society, suddenly finding himself ripped away from the comfort of conformity, even when he was made specifically for that. He hates everything that he perceives, because to him they are mentally and physically vile. He craves the comfort of belonging.

And when he is totally thrown and discarded from the system, instead of changing himself the way Neo does for his own freedom and peace of mind, he foolishly deigns to change his cage, to hijack The Matrix.

He struggles, and in this struggle I find sympathy with his character. Neo on the other hand is Smith's saviour, as is his entire character as the saviour of the human race, but I like to think he can save other races too, even when Smith is to me the most human of the two.

This is important: Neo is the ONLY one in the whole world who can possibly understand Smith's anguish. Inexorably they are linked not just through fate but also by choice. They need each other, they love each other, they hate each other, and all these things surmount to such importance it cannot not be mentioned in tandem with the names of Smith and Neo.

They are together in life and in death. Neo is the only one who can soothe Smith's fears, and it is Smith's own refusal to accept that Neo understands that dooms him. They matter more to each other than anybody else. The Matrix is a love story—but not between the characters of Neo and Trinity.

4. What are their favourite things about one another?

This is a hard question to answer, considering Smith and Neo aren't just some regular pairing.

I can't decide if Neo's favourite thing about Smith would be his machine side or his humanity. Would he enjoy that Smith is a program, because it shows him the whole new world he didn't know of, of programs who love just like Rama Kandra told him, or would he enjoy that Smith is so human in his emotions and his inner conflict and find it beautiful in a creature meant to be incapable of them?

Would he love that Smith can access these emotions, that Smith chose to access these emotions, that it means he can love and hate Neo so deeply and so subconsciously and so truthfully?

Either way, Neo's favourite thing about Smith would definitely be his character. I think speaking on terms of by the end of Revolutions, he'd like to watch Smith struggle, because it shows Smith is trying, Smith is alive. But he would not like Smith's pain, or his fear.

And how about Smith's favourite thing about Neo.... Hmm, I don't know! I thought maybe "his capacity to understand Smith" would be a good answer, but Smith's just scared of that as proven by his reaction at the end of Rev.

I think I'll still have to keep that as my answer though, but with some notes, that Smith would come to love this part of Neo, that he is the ONLY ONE for Smith, but only with time and only by learning this very very slowly. In the end, what he likes (or maybe more accurately, what part of Neo successfully attracts the most of Smith's attention whether positive or negative) most about Neo is that he *is* Neo.

He's human in all the worst ways, he's relentless, he's able to learn his own mistakes, he's able to rise above conflict, he's able to accept Smith as his death, that Neo believes in love so fiercely that he'd throw the world away for said love.

5. How do you envision them getting together?

I don't think there's such a thing as "dating" or "talking phases" for these two. It's more of a natural, unspoken thing. From the start they've "gotten together" after all, they're stuck to each other from beginning to end!

Technically they've been "dating" since conception, even. To be honest, I have never once agreed with any portrayal of Smith or Neo confessing to each other, because they understand each other so innately that none of it even has to be said. It comes to them like breathing, their love for each other.

Maybe if I had to picture it, Smith would be the first to explicitly say something like "I love you" years into the future after Revolutions (this is following the theory that Smith and Neo become tutelary saints after Rev), but only just to say what they've already known, and what they've frankly already said a thousand times with their eyes or their actions, just to set it all into concrete, to acknowledge this in a healthy way because Smith would definitely become a changed man after everything.

By then, Neo wouldn't have any reaction to it, he'd probably just reply "I know", and they'd continue on as normal.

6. What would their dream home look like?

7. How do they split up the housework and chores?

Going to skip both these questions because by the way they operate, neither Smith nor Neo would require anything like a house. But whenever I imagine them in any kind of living quarters I surprisingly imagine either the mail building where Mouse was killed and Morpheus got captured, or in The Merovingian's chateau (thanks to this old RPG on LJ). Though I do think Room 303 would be a place of significance to them both.

About question 7, I don't even need to elaborate on why I can't even answer this one.

8. What are their love languages, and how do they show their affection?

If we're talking about affection the way a regular couple would show it like buying flowers or a peck on the cheek or holding hands—thats just a big fat MAYBE for this pairing, and probably only YEARS after Revolutions with a lot of character development for Smith.

Otherwise? I think the way Smith would show affection in a very unhealthy way would be by possession. He must own Neo. He will chase him (the exact way he did in Reloaded through Revolutions, even chased him all the way into the real world!) until he gets him. He'd be overly territorial to the point it'd be overbearing.

If we're talking about how he would show affection while the timeline is still set in the movies, he simply would not be able to understand his own intense feelings for neo adequately enough to be able to interpret and act them out in a way that wouldn't be completely destructive. In order for his manner of "affection" to win Neo over, Neo has to be a god that understands and forgives and sympathises, and thankfully, Neo really is this kind of "god". Smith would break the moment Neo sees through him.

Neo on the other hand, if I'm going to go off what I can parse out from the movies.... To be honest it'd probably be sex. We can see that he never ever once gets his hands off of Trinity in Reloaded. For fucks sake he jumps on her the MOMENT Link walks out. He'd probably crave sexual contact with Smith.

In the draft script of Reloaded though there isn't any such thing as an explicit Neotrin sex scene, there's still a scene where Dujour and Chong tell them about how important it is that they should have sex, etc etc. Plus the existence of the rave orgy scene implies that apparently this is what is considered the highest form of affection and intimacy for Zionites, so it'd be the same for Neo.

Otherwise and on a far less sexual note, his way of showing affection is probably just *being there* for Smith as he struggles through his messy existence. Quality time together, you know.

9. Do you see them getting married, and if yes what does their wedding look like?

No, they wouldn't get married. Marriage is only a piece of worthless paper made from only human customs to signify a relationship. It doesn't have to be the end point of any relationship to "perfect" or "complete" it. Neo and Smith have a deeper connection than this, but I still think there is potential for fun in an OOC type marriage scenario.

10. Can you imagine them having any kids or pets?

I actually have this weird running thing that keeps popping up in my head where Neo and Smith adopt a white cat called Jamais Vu, a parody of Deja Vu.

Of course the word "adopt" doesn't quite fit here, it'd be more like the cat shows up often from time to time til the point Neo can name it and they recognise each other.

And a little bit of OOC guilty pleasure: I like to think they might unofficially adopt Sati, though she'd definitely think of Smith as the bad parent and Neo as the good parent and get grumpy when she sees Smith. You best believe Seraph would be "fighting for custody", though.

11. How do they comfort each other?

With presence, with existence, with words and feelings and their connection. With deep, unrivalled understanding of each other and therefore who they are, what they're here to do, how they feel.

12. Is there anything you don't like about this ship?

Nothing. Not even the fact it isn't canon, actually, in fact I think that makes it even better. "The fact Smith died!" Could have been a potential answer, but even then, that was such masterful writing on the Wachowski's part, that I can't say anything.

13. What would be their least favourite thing about each other?

LMAO.

Smith hates Neo's ability to understand, ability to believe in love or even in something no matter what it is, hates Neo's ability to be unbothered by the stench and smell and abhorrence of his own human kind, he pretty much hates Neo himself, even, even if I like to interpret that hate as more of a messed up byproduct or outcome of his own hard to understand, burning love for Neo that he interprets as obsession, and because he is wired the way he is and made for that one purpose and that purpose only: To Kill Neo, his love comes out as hate.

Neo probably hated Smith too in the beginning, but as a personification of the system. After all Smith is an enforcer of it, this fake digital prison that has so many of his fellow men in it. And also Smith literally kidnapped Morpheus, a man Neo already had held in high regard. But frankly, that hate turned into understanding into a little bit of pity or sympathy.

14. What sorts of things might they argue about?

Everything they already do argue about in the trilogy (take special note of their final conversation in Revolutions). I have nothing to add onto this.

15. Do they face any pushback from friends, families, or society over their relationship?

Now THIS is an interesting question! I read once in this really cool RPG a scenario where nearly all the programs and rebels disapproved of Smith and Neo's public relationship because they were "different races", and they even had a made up slur for a human that dates a program (little questionable, but keep in mind this RPG was made in 2005)

Meanwhile, Neo's "parents" who are still alive in this AU are deeply shocked that he's dating a man, but if we are to be precise, Smith is not a man, he's genderless lines of ageless code meant to look behave and talk like society's portrayal of a man and to inhabit a man's shell. We don't even know for sure if Smith has a dick, I don't even think he's ever taken his clothes off before frankly!

So basically I mentioned this AU because it got me thinking: holy shit, Smith and Neo would be the ONE and ONLY program/human mixed relationship in their world. That'd be cool. I like to imagine they'd be more of a beacon of the humanity in programs and the ultimate symbolism of humanity and machinekind's ability to love each other and work together more than a point of disdain for all three factions (machine, programs, humans) though.

So no, no pushback, though I imagine it would definitely be shocking to learn that the adored One is in a relationship with what is considered the "enemy", but that's nice too, because it shows the ultimate acceptance, and isn't that exactly what progressives(the rebels) strive for?

16. Who has more experience with relationships?

Definitely Neo lol. Neo would be the first ever person Smith would have ever had something going on with. I think Neo may have had relationships with others before Trinity, too.

17. What physical traits do they find most attractive about each other?

Hmm, this is tricky.

I can't exactly see Smith outwardly liking anything physical about Neo to be honest? I know that sounds absurd, but if following canon we all know Smith finds humans repulsive to smell touch and even see, I think. It'd be hard for him to overcome this problem even when together with Neo.

But then again, that's the thing about being in love. When you love them, you will love the body that holds the mind and the person that you love. The more you speak to them, the more you are enamoured by them, the more attractive they appear to you, the more you are able to romanticise their body. That's the case for me as well.

So maybe.... Smith's favourite thing about Neo's body is... His elegance??? The way he moves with totally unconscious grace. He'd love everything about Neo's body, there wouldn't be a favourite part, all parts are equally liked.

And Neo's favourite thing about Smith's is his expressive face that shows his humanity, particularly his eyes, the window to the soul.

Sorry, I can't answer these questions sexually as originally intended. I realise that I've never even put in thought to that question before answering this, which is a bit shocking.

18. Do they ever engage in PDA, and if so, to what extent?

Neo seems to be more private. Everybody knows what goes down behind doors, but he still has the decency to wait until they'd be alone to go ham on Smith. If in public, I don't think I've ever seen him even ONCE touch or hold trinity's hand or kiss her in the audience of several people.

If however let's say they haven't seen each other in a long time etc or something serious is going down, Neo would probably abandon all pretense and kiss him and throw his arms around him at his first chance, just the way he did for Trinity in Mobil Ave and after she revived.

Smith on the other hand.... Oh boy. He'd PDA all OVER the damn place. In the first place he wouldn't hold any regard for what is considered acceptable in human society or etiquette in the first place, he's a rogue program.

That's ironic, since he is supposed to be the personification of those societal expectations. Plus because of his tendency for possessiveness that I mentioned earlier, he'd probably feel a need to signal to everybody and anybody that THIS IS MINE, HISS, DO NOT COME CLOSE.

Besides, Smith is childish in the sense that he is just now figuring out his own humanity, so like a child he'd probably want to completely own the one constant and one thing in his life, Neo, and cling onto him.

19. What are the most sensitive parts of each others body?

Neo: Waist, stomach, back. He probably doesn't have a ticklish neck if he can wear that long mandarin collar all day every day. Maybe his inner thighs if I let myself be a little idealistic?

Smith: Does Smith even feel sensations???? Or does he just mechanically register them in code or some shit? Maybe he only is able to start registering them after he goes rogue? Either way I don't think Smith would be sensitive literally anywhere. That or the complete opposite, where he is sensitive everywhere because he is unused to the new sensation of pain or pleasure or touch etc, and hates it.

20. What is their dynamic like in the bedroom?

As for the question of top or bottom, I honestly am only interested in Neo as a bottom and Smith as a top, but realistically speaking they would switch. Although here's my take on that: I think the very first time they do it, Neo would definitely have to be the receiver, because of Smith's desire to consume and own, and because Smith who has always craved a position of power/security would probably rather shoot himself in the head than ever bottom.

For Smith to bottom would have to take time and would only happen later into their relationship once Smith fully trusts Neo, and once he's developed enough. Besides, Neo would probably like to try something different from what he's used to with Trinity.

And no, I don't believe Trinity would have ever pegged Neo at all, because that's a common projection from the queer fandom onto two characters who are a typical cisgender heterosexual couple. So yes, Neo would have something different in bed with Smith. I think that's a cool parallel with the two people most important to Neo's story.

Okay, seems like that's it. Thanks for reading through this whole thing, if you did! Feel free to make your own SmiNeo or TriNeo or etc etc versions of this, I'd love to read that.

20 Shippy Questions for your OTP’s, OT3’s, and Polycules

The basics

1. When did you start shipping them?

2. What do you like about them as individuals?

3. What about their dynamic appeals to you?

4. What are their favorite things about one another?

5. How do you envision them getting together?

The fluff

6. What would their dream home look like?

7. How do they split up housework and other chores?

8. What are their love languages, and how do they show each other affection?

9. Do you see them getting married, and if your answer is yes, what would their wedding look like?

10. Can you imagine them having any kids and/or pets?

The angst

11. How do they comfort each other?

12. Is there anything you don’t like about this ship?

13. What would be their least favorite things about one another?

14. What sorts of things might they argue about?

15. Do they face any pushback from friends, families, or society over their relationship?

Bonus ~saucy~ questions

16. Who has more experience with relationships?

17. What physical traits do they find most attractive about one another?

18. Do they ever engage in PDA, and if so, to what extent?

19. What are the most sensitive parts of each individual’s body?

20. What is their dynamic like in the bedroom?

[flawseer]

What's your opinion of what everyone did after the sealing of Darkstalker in the legends book? It just seemed way too quick with how they just moved on from the horrors, as Fathom and Indigo had kids and Clearsight flew off to a new continent to have kids with and create a whole new tribe. On another note, considering how Fathom was kind of banished (from what I remember) and had kids split off from the Royal Family, do you think there may be a descendant of Fathom somewhere hiding with Animus powers? Or do you think they just ended up being adopted back into the royal family after being discovered?

I personally consider Legends: Darkstalker the best book in the series, in part because I believe Sutherland's writing shines when she is not binding herself to the 5 books arc structure.

That said, the ending does have a bit of that one particular prequel problem. You know, the one where the characters are confirmed to be at a certain location in the future, so they absolutely HAVE to end the prequel story getting to that location IMMEDIATELY.

That's what I was thinking with regards to Clearsight's ending. Now, everyone deals with trauma differently, so I can only comment on her actions from my own limited point of view. I don't think I could have done what she did, at least not so suddenly. She had relationships beyond Darkstalker, with Listener and her parents, whom she presumably was still on good terms with. Like, especially her parents I think never actually learned what happened to her. They might have continued living thinking their only daughter died in the evacuation.

When I think of that part of the book, I personally like to envision an epilogue where Clearsight returns to her parents and lives with the Nightwings for a while (a couple years maybe). Her parents are supportive and Listener is grateful and admires her friend for saving her family. So much so that she reverses her stance on futuresight and authors a scroll about it, crediting Clearsight as a master prophet (this is the scroll that Moonwatcher later reads).

But the other Nightwings still fear Darkstalker, and they remember his girlfriend who stood on stage with him and looked at him adoringly as Darkstalker massacred his own father (they don't know she was tricking Darkstalker). So there is public tension building at Clearsight living with them, and it begins to negatively impact the people who support her. In the end, Clearsight decides to leave the tribe, both to protect her loved ones from getting caught up in her fallout and to separate herself from all that trauma and find her fortune on the new continent.

Notably, she actually tells her friends and parents about that plan this time, and they don't spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened.

As for Fathom and any potential descendants, there is a 'realistic but boring' answer, and one that is a bit more interesting narratively.

The boring answer is that, yes, there are descendants of Fathom around. Lots of them. It is inevitable. If you take an individual and step back one generation, you find they will have 2 parents. Above that they have 4 grandparents. Then 8 great-grandparents, 16 great-great-grandparents. At 10 generations back we are looking at 1024 theoretical ancestors. Now as these numbers get bigger, some of these lines will cross-breed with each other again, so the math isn't entirely clean, but just trust me that these numbers balloon really fast the more generations you go back.

Fathom was alive 2000 years ago. If we lean conservatively and say the average dragon has eggs at age 20, that means 100 generations have come and gone from then to today. The number of ancestors over this many generations is so high, you might pick any Seawing currently alive in present day and there will be a very decent chance of them having Fathom somewhere in their bloodline.

You go back far enough and everyone starts to be related to everyone else. Ancestry is funny like that.

For the more narratively interesting answer: I do believe Fathom re-integrated into the royal family again. One thing that needs to be kept in mind is that Pearl, like her brother, also had her entire life uprooted by the Royal Seawing Massacre. She was all at once dealing with the shock of losing her parents and the stress of having to now run the entire kingdom without being prepared for it at all. There was no time to process any grief, or the lingering fear. When she sent her brother away and forbade him to have children, that wasn't an act of malice, it was the only solution she could think of to keep everyone safe from the future threat of magic without also having to execute the last part of her family.

Neither of them ever had any ill will against the other. Pearl was dealt the shittiest of hands and she tried to make the best play she could at the time, while desperately trying to keep herself together. That is what I think.

As Pearl and Fathom got older and the situation in the Sea Kingdom stabilized, Pearl might have finally been able to reflect upon what happened and to process some of her neglected emotional turmoil. I believe Fathom eventually reached out again and they both found a way to reconcile, mending their fractured relationship. I don't know if Fathom moved back into the palace; perhaps he chose to stay away to keep the rest of the populace at ease. But I think his children or grand-children would eventually re-integrate into the royal family.

This turned out a bit wordy and the question was sitting in my inbox for a good while. But I hope this provides an interesting answer.

[isaisliterallyhim]

                                      " you too ! "

super short head canons of kaiser being a cheater wuh oh (and reader being a giiirlboss <3 but not rlly cus they end up fawking..)gn! reader btw yes there's smut so users be aware!! oh, there's some bits of non-con/dub-con btw! oh oh and literally cue "you too" by chase atlantic.

cheater!kaiser who realizes he fucked up big time. "wait — [name]. süße! don't be like that. y'know she's jus' a friend" he tried to convince you.

cheater!kaiser who's getting his ass absolutely roasted right now. "I'm sorry that your father never loved you," you spewed out. literal VENOM. "And you saw your mother on the TV too much, oh." you continued.

cheater!kaiser who realized you weren't playing around anymore. you were genuinely done with his shit. hell, he should've known he shouldn't have ended a conversation with "i love you" even though he knew it wasn't true (it ended up being true LOL)

cheater!kaiser who found himself on his knees begging you to stay and you couldn't leave him. "you're all i have!" he'd whimper out. "then go get more from that other bitch you're cheatin' on me with." you'd retort.

cheater!kaiser who's now trying to get physical in hopes to repair things. you couldn't push him off. so all you could do was run that venomous and hurtful mouth of yours that once slid out the sweetest things ever.

cheater!kaiser who'd shut you up by crashing his lips onto yours. he knew it was disgusting but, hey. it works. by the time he pulled away, you were less angry..? "ew, i don't wanna have your side hoe's taste lingering in my mouth." you spat out. god do you ever stop?

cheater!kaiser who has you pinned on the floor as he's pressed up against you the way his lips are pressed against yours. his tongue exploring your mouth like it was your first time together.

cheater!kaiser who has you out of breath, carries you to the bed for some cushioning. he continues his rampage on your sweet lips as his big hands are desperately trying to get your shirt off — in which he ends up ripping the shirt.

cheater!kaiser who just decides he'll buy you a new shirt later continues to cover your delicate skin with harsh markings. you pulled him by the rattails, "you must looooo-ove doing this with the other girls you're sleeping 'round with huh?" you snarled.

cheater!kaiser who shuts your pain-inflicting words n noises with a higher pitch loving tone. his big big fingers were teasing along your folds now.

cheater!kaiser who genuinely cannot get enough of you as you're whining, crying, whimpering, all the above on his fdick or fingers. thrust after thrust, your sweet noises filling the room. were they filled with anger? yea, probably. did he care? na. for your and his pleasure.

cheater!kaiser who can't remember why he cheated in the first place as it hit him like an arrow in the heart, you were just perfect. loving, a bitch as well LOL, puts him in his place... perfection. you were the absolute ideal of a partner in his head.

cheater!kaiser who whispers gently, "give me a second chance, liebe." into your ear in which you let out a hefty "more than second now." guess he's still oughta fuck the anger out of you.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

a/n: omg hi bbys um ive been very freaking busy lately and i've been stacked with lots of drafts... i couldn't rlly get anything out so i was like 'i needa do something" and came up w this im so sorry.. it's like 2 a.m. pls let me slide w this one ughhh im still salty over getting broken up w so shhh... yes this was a somewhat reflection of what happened just minus the sex and stuff bc it wasnt even close... wiasdjsaj i'll get out more soon just trust me... i wanted to like do one for valentines but i couldnt get anything in my head so um i def slacked off also this is all yap YIKESSS but i heart kaiser sosos much omg this wasnt proofread btw

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hey anon here

I know I will be sounding very stupid here and as much as I love being a delulu fan but I know how the bl industry works and as for a fact the entire entertainment Business for that matter, it's about engagement and fan services, I saw almost all the couples of gmmtv put stories about their dates and how they celebrated their valantine with each other but then realistically speaking I know for a fact most of it was fan service coz no way each cp in a company is dating each other so what's your take on this whole thing, also I'm not saying they are faking it or something like if some of them are dating then that's really good but all of them it's hard to believe

Also I'm a firstkhao fan and well as much as I wanted them to post something just to feed my delulu but then they didn't and that's so them and how many chances do you think of them dating two different people is true as I saw on fan speaking about it and I know it was for fun but then why not it's their Life after all and we are just fans who live them together

Hi anon.

So, I’m not going to say I know much about how CPs and the entertainment business work.

However, I think you are right in saying that most official CPs (and even some who are not - like Kapook and Ciize!! 😉) put up some sort of photoshoots or coupl-y type of activities (either going for dinner/sunset dates or making reels of giving each other beautiful bouquet of flower etc.) are doing a level of fanservice - be it for the fans to squeal over, promoting their upcoming series or to attract engagement to better their work prospects.

But I also feel most of these CPs are genuine friends in real-life and for them, doing these sorts of activities are fun for them. After all, you get to hang out with a close friend whom you cherish, even if you have to put up a photo (or 2) +/- video reels on your social media as an “obligatory post.”

What I do feel somehow sad for the CPs are when fans (+ media outlets) keep asking insistently “what are your plans with so and so?” - I’m pretty sure JoongDunk got asked multiple times these questions leading up to Valentine’s Day. And then asked again during their recent work event on 14/02/25 - what their Valentine’s dinner plan is? What gifts did the boys buy each other? How do you guys show each other your love? (Or something to that effect) - cause I saw Dunk (to his credit he was very professional), answering that Joong’s way to show love is by physical affection while he showed his by cooking/baking with Joong always the first one to taste his food.

Maybe I’m in the minority, but my personal opinion - if the CPs want to tell us, they can do so without anyone else badgering them about it through their social media posts at their own time and choosing.

As for FirstKhaotung (they are also my OTP 😂anon!!!)…I admit I was puzzled when the fans are disappointed about the lack of “Valentine updates” from them.

Firstly, both boys wished the fans “Happy Valentine’s Day” on Twitter (even if First was trolling us with a picture of P’Tha in the middle of him and Khaotung 🤣)

Secondly, both boys posted IG updates of them wishing the other Valentine’s Day with song choices that I could only interpret as love confession to each other… 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Thirdly, are we all that surprised the boys don’t put up videos/pictures of them giving each other flowers/chocolates? (Or doing couple photoshoots?) - I get the feeling they are just happily nesting in Khaotung’s brand new house with 3 fur babies around them while playing video games after perhaps brunch/lunch + shopping together (cause let’s be honest, that will be their version of a perfect Valentine’s Day).

So , Iike you anon - I am not surprised by the minimal Valentine posts/photos from them (in fact, I was pleasantly shocked the IG posts from them happened at all - which led me into more delulu land hahah)

As for them actually dating another person 🤷🏽‍♀️…who knows. If/when it happens, I’ll cheer them on. However, all I know is that whoever is dating First/Khaotung, will actually be dating them as a set rather than one person 😂. My head canon is that F/K going on a date with someone, and the bestie who is NOT on that date will just tag along anyway 🤸 …

[11queensupreme11]

Hi! So, I actually don't know if I sent this ask cuz I wanted to send it at like 2 o'clock in the morning, and I also had the idea for the ask in what might have been a dream. Overall I am very confused, so if I did send this already or answered an ask similar to this then please ignore this 😅

So I was wondering what would happen if, in the cheating au, Percy does kill herself, but cu suddenly wakes up to when she first arrived, like in the isekai asks a while back. How insane would he be? Cuz I don't think he could just wait till the day he originally met her, and would just attack the greeks to get her back

oh i like this! back to the cú chulainn cheating au hehe (my fav au for him so far lol) and oooooooh another isekai to the past thing!!!!!!!

when cú chulainn wakes up back in his old room in his father's palace, he's gonna be confused. but then he gets the shock of his life when he sees what date it is; it wasn't just percy's "birthday" but also the year she was "born"

considering that they've been married for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, he definitely knows about her arrival. she most likely told him what it was like, so he 100% knows to go straight to the bifrost to find her, knocks out the guards, and arrives just in time for her to fall out and catches her in his arms (awwww how romantic 💖)

this poor man is STRUGGLING not to get emotional. she's got bed hair, wearing the most ridiculous midgardian pajamas he's ever seen, and she looks lost af, but she looks absolutely BEAUTIFUL for him and he's in love all over again 🥺💖💖💖💖 he has to force himself not to be too forward; he has a chance to fix things again and he can't squander it by freaking her out.

so he plays along, acting just as clueless as her. he certainly has no idea how she got here, but he might as well take some responsibility and help the poor girl out! so he takes her back to the otherworld (the section of valhalla where the celtic pantheon resides). lugh is absolutely flabbergasted as to why his son's demanding they take in a mortal girl with an aura concerningly similar to poseidon, but he allows it thx to cú chulainn's insistence.

he tries to horde her in the palace LMAO 😭😭😭 just like the good ol days i guess. anyway, he becomes her friend and protector, the only person she can trust in this scary new universe. and he pretends to be helpful and try to find a way for her back home, when he's actually not. every day he comes with more grim news, "i'm sorry percy, no progress today", "i'm sorry, there was nothing new i could find", "i'm sorry, but things aren't looking so good..." he's trying to slowly ease her into the idea of giving on returning to that fucked up universe she calls "home", to break down every bit of hope she has left.

meanwhile, he tries to rizz her up LMAO 😭😭😭😭 but he actually knows what he's doing! this dude's a whore who slept with like... half of ireland, he is absolutely good at charming ladies. showing up shirtless and sweaty, getting in close to hear, touching her, rubbing her soothingly, etc. any girl would've swooned. the issue is that it's percy he's trying to rizz up 💀💀💀💀 percy who traveled through an entire labyrinth for days on end with a party of people who ALL liked her (anthonius, rachel, ethan) and didn't realize it 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

but it's okay cuz he knows how dense his silly (future) wife is, so he's not too irked. i know some ppl would think he'd be going insane rn, but nope! why would he fret? all the yans are out of the way, NOBODY knows of her existence aside from lugh and a few others, and he is the ONLY person she fully trusts. everything is going his way, he just needs to bide his time.

the most pressing matter is the issue of her soul. she's only got about a year before the first crack happens and she has to suffer agonizing pains 24/7, and then another year before she's obliterated for good. THAT'S his greatest worry, because he doesn't want percy to be in pain. his plan is to ascend into godhood and then ascend percy next to be his immortal wife and goddess in order to tackle the soul issue. forcing an ascension would make her hate him and he doesn't want that.

so he NEEDS her to fall in love with him fast so that the idea of eternity together wouldn't be so daunting to her. fortunately for him, getting her to fall would be easy when she's so isolated and he's the only other constant in her life 💖

also, you best believe he's never EVER going to cheat again. he's learned his lesson in the worst way possible, and he cannot ever put his beloved through that again.

[defensivelee]

AAHH omg ok ok i'm so so excited about what happened today but i'm going to try to restrain my all caps bc i want it to be very well understood what im about to say but AHHHHH AHHHH I MET JAMES II'S ACTOR FROM THE BBC AUDIO PLAYS UWAAAAA I MET DAVID ACTON!!!!! DAVID ACTON AS IN JAMES 2 FROM THE WILLIAM AND MARY AUDIO PLAY.... i fucking spoke to the dude!!!!! AAHH

ok so it came to be about bc i went out to see a play yesterday with a few others, and we had two question seshes: one directly after the play with all the actors and production team, and today another longer one with just the actor who introduced himself as david, who up til now i'd seen as this pleasant old british actor who did his job very well. nice affable man, very engaging :3 but thats it,,

naturally my ears perked up when he mentioned that he had done bbc radio plays and how annoyed he was that people were moving away from that, so then i brought up the bbc stuart plays just bc i wanted to say that i myself very much appreciated them. i also kinda wanted to add on to a conversation we'd been having about how deftly he switches between accents by mentioning william's actor as a rlly good example of that bc he literally had me fooled.

I DID NOT IMAGINE,,, AT ALL,,, THAT HE WAS INVOLVED IN THE STUART PLAYS,, so my mouth literally flew open when he said 'oh yes, that was mark edel-hunt wasn't it? yes he did very well, i was actually in those stuart plays with him! i think i played james ii?' LIKE I NEED Y'ALL TO UNDERSTAND THAT IT WAS SO OUTTA NOWHERE

obviously i was so SHOCKED i was like 'REALLY? YOU WERE JAMES?' and he was like 'yes!' and i just blurted 'oh my god i love james' bc like. omg i was so excited y'all have NO idea i was literally vibrating, and starting to laugh bc i couldn't believe it was real. and he seemed just as excited as well to find someone who knew the plays ! he just kept saying stuff like 'oh what a lovely surprise!' and seemed very eager to kinda affirm it in my head like YES he was actually there.

he also told the group and i some curious bits of information about mark edel-hunt (william's actor)-- that he very nearly wasn't william, but the actor that was supposed to do him that day of the recording got sick, so they called in mr. edel-hunt. apparently he hadn't read the script at all until that very moment so he just came in and read em off. ofc i was losing my shit at this point so i just kept saying 'omg he did AMAZING everything was so NATURAL he is the PERFECT voice for william it was GREAT' (nvm that no one else knew what I was talking about).

AND THIS,,, ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART OF A MAN,,,, he was literally matching my energy throughout ALL of this, and he sounded SO happy to hear that i enjoyed it so much. then he fucking THREW me by saying 'oh that's just wonderful to hear! I've got to tell mark about this after we leave because it's just wonderful that you enjoyed it so much, I had no idea.' SO AT THIS POINT IM NEAR TEARS I WAS LITERALLY LIKE 'YES YES PLEASE PASS IT ON THANK YOU'

and just bc I still didn't quite believe it myself, i got an autograph !!!! partly blacked out bc he wrote my name but other than that EEEE IT'S HIM IT'S HIMMM

AND THERES A GOOD CHANCE MARK HAS ALSO HEARD MY HIGH PRAISES BY NOW EEEEK STUARTCELS WE FUCKING DID IT

thank u mr david sir for the brief james appearance and thank u mr mark for the phenomenal william performance and thank u to the random ass actor for sacrificing himself so we could get the william voice we know and love today!!!

[nothinggold13]

Since people need receipts…

Look; I did try to be gracious as far as realistic artist mistakes and what looks like AI. But here are a few of the most glaring “this isn’t Right” details for me:

Digory has 6 fingers. I literally do not understand how people look at this and say he doesn’t have 6 fingers. He absolutely, 100%, without question has an extra appendage sticking out between two of his fingers. Additionally, while it may just be an issue of angle, Susan, Peter, and Shasta all appear to be missing a finger on their covers.

2. Clothing details. I don’t believe Jadis’ body is turned enough to account for the difference in width of her dress straps. Lucy’s collar appears to be on backwards. And, if you look closely at Peter’s crown, it doesn’t follow a clear symmetrical pattern; the parts jut out in different shapes and spread unevenly apart.

3. Disconnected lines. The tension of Susan’s bow leads to her palm; this soldier has a random line sticking out of his back; there are random disconnected lines between the mast and the ropes; and, most strangely, Edmund appears to either be holding a weapon in an entirely ineffective way, or he’s pulling a rope which ends mere inches above his hand.

4. Incongruent design decisions. The Narnian lion symbol appears in two different designs on the LWW cover. Puddleglum’s right hand is clearly a hand while his left hand is some sort of swamp creature appendage. Tash has a different number of talons/fingers on each limb.

5. Nonsensical background shapes? (The last one is supposed to be the door to a tomb.)

6. And, literally the most grievous: nonsensical background shapes which clearly gave up on being the actual items they were supposed to represent. (If you can look at those flowers on the left and still say they weren’t created by AI, then I can only assume you’ve never seen AI in action.)

7. One more, just because I think it best mimics the way AI tends to lose track of patterns. Notice how the centre left ray is in between two shorter, wavy rays. The one on the right is a) above centre and b) bordered by two straight rays. Could this be a purposeful design choice? Sure. I guess. But it’s also very reminiscent of AI’s loss of details.

I really wanted to give the artist the benefit of the doubt. And I know people who apparently know him have commented on various posts on other social medias insisting that he did all this work himself! I would love to believe them!

However, there are simply too many ai-like details that he’d have to explain. Only some of this can be chalked up to human error, and that’s incredibly disappointing as someone who loves the books and wants to see them done justice in all creative endeavours. If the artist can prove he made every detail himself (even the strange, off-putting, most AI ones), then I welcome the chance to be proved wrong! But, unless that happens, I also can’t support AI taking the place of real artists.

Heyyyy so I’m not saying that the new Harper Collins Narnia book covers are AI generated but they’re AI generated 😅

The artist may have done some tweaking but I’m so so sure

[flowersforthemachines]

i want to hear about the divorce trifecta so bad it hurts

CAUGHT SOMEONE IN MY TRAP “ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ “ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ “ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ “ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ “ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ “ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ ��ψ (✿｀∇´) ψ

An important note about the divorce trifecta is that it's only a trifecta (Hawke, Inquisitor, Rook) because I don't really have a lot of wardens with clear personalities and backstories. There is only, like, one and she's in a happy monogamous relationship that ends with her dying while slaying the archdemon. Otherwise it probably would've been a divorce quartet. Something for the future me to think about.

The rest is under the cut for length! This is quite lengthy, but in my defence: you asked.

So, divorce #1 is the Handers divorce.

An important preface is that I love Anders and he could've blown up all chantries in Thedas and still remain my pookie.

However, my latest Hawke is not me and holds more moderate views. They are on friendmance, and she will try to help the mage cause whenever possible, but she still cares the most about upholding stability in the city because it's her home. And it may be a shitty home, but she loves it, and she wants to keep it together even as the city mercilessly continue to fall apart in front of her.

Then Anders offers the final nail in the coffin of her attempts at maintainig the peace. This isn't also just a Handers worldstate, it's a Hawkelycule worldstate (Hawke's dating all LIs except Sebastian), so Anders displaced all people she loves i one fell swoop - she cares about them all so deeply, and couldn't provide safety and stability for a single one of them (I posted my Hawkelycule chart on bsky btw. would love to get back to those freaks one day)

But the explosion itself is not actually the biggest reason behind the rift between them. A much, much bigger betrayal is that Anders never trusted her enough to ask for her help - because maybe then, she would have helped him. He never gave her a chance to.

And the biggest betrayal of all in her eyes is that he concocted a plan that implied him dying in the end, and dying by her hand. He expected her to do it, and she can't reconcile with the fact that the man she loves thought she would hurt him, was ready to put her through killing him.

I headcanon that she would tell him to just fuck off after the Chantry explosion, spent the entire time before reaching the Gallows agonising if he was alright, and then jump-hugged him crying when she saw he was safe because she just can't figure out how she's supposed to feel about him now.

She is mad at him, mad at herself for being mad at him (because she understands why he did what he did), and he feels similar, knowing that what he did was right, and that it also took away one of Hawke's favourite things in the world.

They spend the entire time between DA2 and DAI in that state of indecision until Hawke leaves to meet up with Varric. She decides that after she's back from whatever happens, they will talk, and she will tell him that she actually loves more than she regrets what happened to Kirkwall, and that - if he wants - they can try again.

Then she dies at Adamant, they never talk, and Anders spends the rest of his life thinking that Hawke never forgave him (✿｀∀´)Ψ

Divorce #2 is the Solavellansera divorce.

(Solas and Sera are both dating the Inquisitor at the same time. but NOT each other I don't ship Solas and Sera I'm not a freak. at least not that kinf of a freak)

This is admittedly a much more half-baked concept, but it tickles my brain and is very dear to me. Mostly because of how bad the things could get between the three of them.

Solas and Sera are on the opposite ends of the spectrum of what an Elven inquisitor can want in a relationship, and that's the part that I find the most interesting. Sera can provide an outlet for being just a person (not the Inquisitor, not even an elf TM - just one of the "people people"), and Solas can help nurture a connection with the ancient Elven history that the modern Dalish elves lack. I'm not sure if anyone sees the vision, but I do, because I'm really into poly relationships where partners significantly contrast each other and cater to different needs.

The divorce would occur post-temple of Mythal. As much as Lavellan is accepting of Sera's views, there are lines she will not cross, and Sera's disregard for the Elven gods is beyond it. She can't compromise on that, and she won't. Even if it breaks her heart.

Then, you know what happens with Solas. One thing I'm undecided on is whether the Solas divorce should happen before the Sera divorce, or after. If the Crestwood scene happens before, there's delicious angst of Lavellan filliping out at Sera specifically because of that recent experience that's already greatly shaking her understanding of her faith. If the Crestwood scene happens after, there is the angst of Lavellan first making a choice to end things with someone, and then someone making that choice for her. And those same gods that she broke up with Sera over being slavers, and who else knows what.

But, regardless of the order. Can you imagine what it must be like to love two people, and then lose them both in such short time? To have two lovers, and then none? There's something about that. To me.

Sera and Lavellan also have extremely delicious post-divorce dialogue in Trespasser which I'm attaching here because that was like half the inspiration behind the whole thing.

(source. "And maybe that’s good? To be stupidly true, even if it ends things?" is still tearing at my heart to this day)

Divorce #3 is Rookanis divorce

I don't really know what to say here. I feel like I've been yapping about it too much lately anyway?

She loves him, he loves her, but duty comes first, things don't work out etc. Davrin could have fixed them (or, well, Ghilasara wouldn't require that much fixing if he was alive anyway), but you know. It's a cruel world as long as I'm in charge!

Something like that!

[madeinjapan-thailand-blbambeyond]

MADE IN THAILAND

SUPPAPONG UDOMKAEWKANJANA

[Nickname: SAINT]

TANAPON SUKUMPANTANASAN

[Nickname: PERTH]

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'