#also this was begun before my style changed way more

[lum164]

Early Christmas gift and late anni drawing

I finally finished it

[kitscutie]

august (conrad fisher x reader)

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗂ꜱ𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ꜱ: ᖯ𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗄𝗂ꜱꜱ𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝖽 ᖯ𝖾��𝗅𝗒, ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽

𝗉.ꜱ: 𝗂'𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 ꜱ𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇ꜱ𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 ᖯ𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂ꜱ 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 - 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗒𝗅𝖺𝗇, 𝗂𝗍'ꜱ 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗎ꜱ𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍 ᖯ𝗎𝗍 ꜱ𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽!

ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 ᖯ𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 ꜱ𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄-𝗎𝗉ꜱ 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺ꜱ𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋ꜱ, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒ꜱ, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒 ꜱ𝗁𝗈𝗐ꜱ 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ᖯ𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽.

a/n: been wanting to write this for a while so BOOM here it is, sooo excited for season two, also im in a deep dylan obrien depression i need help :p ALSO sorry like all my fics are in different styles at the start i'm experimenting atm!

You and Conrad Fisher had known each other since you had popped out of the womb nineteen years ago in the same hospital, only a floor and two hours keeping you apart.

Your moms had been friends since rooming at college and so your friendship, some might say, had been written in the stars quite literally. Fate.

Things had started to change on your sixteenth birthday. It was just before the annual summer reunion, and of course, you and your mom had gone down just one week earlier in order to have a joint birthday celebration with the Fishers and stayed until the Conklin's arrived.

You had hit puberty and he hadn't seen you since the big change but when he did, his eyes could've fell from his skull. It was almost comedic. Of course at the time his stares meant little to you. He was your best friend after all.

Until last year. It was the start of summer bonfire and all was normal. Belly was at home, Jeremiah was off talking to girls with Steven which left you and Conrad. You found it strange he didn't have the same interest in girls as Steven and Jeremiah but who were you to say anything. You wanted him to stay.

Long story short he finally made a move and a kiss began in the abandoned life-guard tower a couple feet away from the main event, it was all going well, almost too well. And you were proven correct when Steven and Jeremiah came down the beach looking for you and found you in that very compromising position.

Seeing as they weren't exactly in a place to talk they agreed to keep it a secret and so it became the new norm for them, seeing the two of you together while your mom, Susannah, Laurel and Belly were non the wiser.

The bonfire was in full-swing, Summer had officially begun and what better way to start it than in the lap of Conrad Fisher on Cousins Beach.

He was sat cross legged on the blanket you'd brought from the house, while you sat atop him, legs either side of his own.

"I just think we should be nicer to her, I mean that was us three years ago." You sighed, you'd had a beer or two and were feeling increasingly guilty about the disallowance of Belly to come tonight.

"None of us were allowed out at sixteen, it's only fair." Conrad replied, voice low and relaxed. Something you appreciated about him, he was a very soothing person.

"Yeah, but that's different! We all had each other and now-" You began but he cut you off with a groan.

"Can we please not talk about Belly when your sat on me?" He said, smile gracing his lips.

You began to 'ew' and berate him but were soon cut off by his lips on yours, one of his hands holding your jaw in place while the other sat comfortably on the upper part of your thigh.

It didn't take much for you to open up, his tongue instantly hitting against yours as he deepened the kiss. When your mouths disconnected, it made a sound which made your head go light and airy.

"Do you still feel bad?" He whispered. Hand moving up to put a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"No." You answered, shooting forward to connect your lips once more. He chuckled into the kiss, teeth clashing together but you didn't care you just wanted him.

His spare hand slowly and nonchalantly drifted to the hem of your shorts, groping your ass gently, you were still in public after all and Conrad wanted to be able to say he had an ounce of class and respect. Even if it was a lie.

A disruption to the left of you and Conrad caught your attention and you went to turn your head, lips still interlocked but he denied that, hand on your jaw tightening and turning your head back to look at him.

The final straw was a resounding 'Ooh' from the crowd and you decided no matter what he did you were going to see what was happening.

Finally turning your head you found Belly. On the floor. And looking directly at you. A lot was wrong with that.

"Shit, Conrad." You said, which finally got his face away from placing delicate kisses across your jaw and to see the same thing as you. His face also dropping.

"Belly?" He said, unable to stop himself in disbelief.

Really this would've been the right time to get out of his lap but you were frozen in fear, forgetting you were sat there in the first place.

"I thought me and Y/N were like your sisters." She said, anger painted on her face. You didn't like confrontation in the first place and so saying something was hard but you couldn't let Belly think badly of you or Conrad.

"Belly look- it's different-" You defended, but she once again cut you off in anger and while your throat tightened in anxiety, you felt Conrad's hand soothe over your back. Reassuring and subtle.

"Different? I know him just as well as you do. It's not different." She seethed. Stepping closer to the two of you.

"Belly, c'mon you know what I mean." You whispered unintentionally. Your eyes were going glassy, feeling looks from all around you. Some in agreeance with you, some with her but none knew the full story.

"We've been together since last year. It was after you left to take Steven to look at Colleges." Conrad stepped in while Belly processed. Preventing another dig at you.

"I thought you weren't ready for a relationship and that, may I remind you again, we're like sisters to you?" Belly replied.

"I didn't-" Conrad started though a hurt look from you cut him off. "Look I said that like two years ago, it isn't even relevant anymore. Clearly." He said. Eyes connecting with you to reassure you, not her.

"You're such a brat." He added, seeing the affect her words had on you.

"Well you're an asshole." Belly yelled back, all while you sat stunned and quiet.

"Belly! You came, great, we can all hang out." Jeremiah said enthusiastically running over. You appreciated his intervention, as obvious as it was that he was trying to distract her.

"I'm about to take her home." Steven cut him off.

"What?" Jeremiah said, confused. Though the situation was bad she was old enough to be out past ten pm. Whether Steven liked it or not.

"Yeah, we're leaving, are you kidding me?" Steven replied as if it was obvious. Grabbing her hand.

"Ok, Steven come on. Go hang out with Shayla or something." Jeremiah answered and you couldn't help but admire the boy and his love for Belly.

You tore your eyes away from the conversation above you as they dispersed, looking back at Conrad who was sighing and pushing hair from his face.

"It'll be okay." You said, knowing what he needed without having to ask.

"I know." He smiled gently, though his eyes didn't fully match. He was worried, and you couldn't blame him.

Belly knew, and worst of all, just five months ago she had confided in you about her crush on Conrad and so it was unclear if she would ever even speak to you again.

Guilt was swallowing you whole.

[livelaughloveluffy]

confession - roronoa zoro

a/n: i usually struggle with the zoro fics a bit, but this is the first one that just instantly flowed out of me 😭💀 while i don't typically headcannon zoro as the jealous type (bro has a secure attachment style fr 😭😭) i do see him getting jealous when it comes to a certain blonde cook getting too close for his comfort, so thats what this is; zosan rivalry my beloved 💗 (just kiss already losers)

nothing but fluff here 💗

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

when you first joined the straw hats, zoro never expected to fall for you. sure, you were a laundry list of all things amazing, in fact, the more he thought about it, the two of you would be a perfect match. but, he wasn't that kind of guy, the relationship type, and you were such a catch. he knew it was only a matter of time before you found someone.

but for whatever reason, zoro couldn't help but find himself watching you whenever he saw you on the deck. whether you were lounging in the sun hanging out with nami and robin reading, playing with luffy and chopper, helping catch fish for dinner, dancing to brooke's music, his eyes just naturally gravitated towards you.

the swordsman couldn't exactly but his finger one the source of this new infatuation. but he certainly wasn't going to start thinking about it, hoping this problem would just fade with time.

it's only natural to be curious in a new crewmate... right?

•♡•

during one of your first months with the new crew, you couldn't bring yourself to fall asleep. being frustrated with the helpless tossing and turning every couple minutes, you just decided to get some fresh air, maybe the ocean breeze and night-sky will help lull you to sleep.

for whatever reason, the second you left the girl's dorm, your eyes were instantly drawn to the crow's nest. if you remembered correctly, it was zoro's turn to be on night watch. might as well join him, as it was quite preferable to the alternative, sitting on the dark deck alone.

as you opened the hatch to the crow's nest, you could hear zoro begin to grab one of his swords, ready to pull it from the scabbard. "sorry, it's just me. i couldn't sleep, i figured i would keep you some company."

the swordsman looked at you, half skeptical and half amusement danced in his eyes. before he could send you away, you pulled out a bottle of sake "i brought some refreshments too." and with that, he glanced away, allowing you come sit next to him.

•♡•

before he knew it, your time together on night watch became a routine, initially it started with just silently drinking together and stargazing, to quiet conversations, to the occasional jokes, and without knowing the swordsman had started to become really attached to this time alone with you.

he started looking forward to quiet nights in the crow's nest, sake in hand, the sweet smell of your perfume, and the starry nights coupled with the ambience of the crashing waves beneath you both.

and it wasn't just the green-haired swordsman who felt this way. you had also begun to really treasure this time with him. you had seen as zoro's begrudging toleration had slowly bloomed into comfort in your presence.

wanting to do something for the grumpy swordsman, you took it upon yourself to surprise him with something special.

•♡•

something had changed.. it was a small change, but a noticeable one. for a reason unbeknown to him, a certain blonde appeared by your side more than usual. the cook seemed to sick to you like a barnacle, whenever the two of you weren't on the deck, instead of your usual spots, you were found in the kitchen.

at first, this wasn't initially a big deal. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, you were allowed to hang out with anyone you wanted. this knowledge, however, did nothing to elevate the sense of dread in his gut whenever he saw you and sanji whispering to each other, and eventually sneaking off to the kitchen, reappearing hours later.

he just couldn't help but start to feel the small stabbing itch of jealousy when he saw you with that stupid curly-browed cook. at first, he expected it. zoro knew sanji well enough to expect him to act any differently... but what he didn't expect was seeing you look... not bothered.

•♡•

he watched from a distance as the blonde made his way over to you, a little too fast for his liking, then as you greeted the man with a smile, nodding enthusiastically to whatever he had said, and now following him back to the kitchen.

then he tried to ignore it. ignorantly (and stupidly hopeful) that this was something he would just get over and used to. it's totally fine, it makes sense you would want to build closer relationships with members of the crew, so why did it bother him so much to see you do exactly that with sanji.

he truly didn't see the appeal of the love-sick cook. sure, he made great food. but the man can barely function around women, always itching to get in their pants, and it made the swordsman sick. he couldn't help but worry that sanji would try and do something like that to you... and he's not sure if you would decline advances from the cook..

•♡•

one night, after way too many hours tossing and turning trying, but unsuccessfully attempting to sleep, zoro decided he might as well just stay up anyways. maybe a distraction of sake and the stars will be enough to soothe this anxiety. however, he had no more sake left in the shared boys room, needing to make his way to the kitchen.

what he didn't notice leaving the boy's room was a certain blonde head not in his bed. it wasn't until the light pouring from the kitchen window that his stomach began to sank.

opening the door to the kitchen, trying his best to be casual, he watched as you and sanji practically ricocheted away from each other.

"marimo, what do you think-"

"zoro! it's so late! what are you doing up?"

he watched for a moment as you too floundered to attempt to explain the situation, the blush on your and the cook's face told him all he needed to know.

"couldn't sleep. just getting some sake. you can do... whatever the hell you guys were doing.." he couldn't bare to look at you. not because he was mad at you, but because he was mad at himself.

if only he had said something, did something, tried to tell you how he felt... but it appeared it was too little to late.

•♡•

he grabbed more sake then he initially intended to, planning to drink his frustration away until sunrise, to then hopefully be over it by the following morning. what he didn't anticipate was a hand suddenly grabbing his, stopping him in his tracks, he didn't need to turn to see who it was that held him there.

he didn't move a muscle to turn to see you, he couldn't promise he had anything nice to say.. so you held his hand as you walked to face him. looking up to meet his sharp eyes, in a soft voice you asked him "do you want some company?"

he replied with an empty and sarcastic tone, "don't you have a shitty cook to entertain instead?"

"it's not like that, zo. i swea-" you said, attempting to explain the situation, before he cut you off.

he could feel his blood slowly start to boil, his voice slightly beginning to raise, "really? it's not? doesn't look that way."

"zoro, wait please-" you begged, tears starting to well up in your eyes.

"wait for what? never mind, the fact that i've been in love with for months-" he paused, realizing his mistake. clamping his mouth closed in a tight line. instantly, all the pent-up jealousy and irritation dissipate from his body. nothing but the overwhelming feeling that he just fucked up forever, he could help but sigh and accept the consequences.

he couldn't meet your eyes as he muttered "you know what, just forget i said anything. whatever makes you happy." dropping your hand, frustrated and embarrassed, he started to pick up his feet again, making his way towards the crow's nest.

"i love you too, you idiot!" you shout at him.

and the next thing you knew, he was grabbing your arm and pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your hips as tightly as he could. it wasn't until you were totally enveloped in the swordsman, did he finally ask you "what were you doing with that stupid cook anyways?"

you pulled your head away from him slightly, just enough to look at his eyes. how you had been blind to it for so long, you truly had no idea, but the realization made you burst out in giggles.

"oh my god, is that what this was about? actually its kind of funny, sanji was teaching me how to bake so i could surprise you" still a bit breathless from all the giggles, you continued "if you had waited like two more days, i was going to tell you that i had feelings for you and bring you cookies."

if you squinted, you would have seen the tiniest blush spread across the swordsman's face. "oh.... i still don't like him though."

you teasingly rolled your eyes at zoro, and with a smile said "you're an idiot.. but you're my idiot"

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

a/n: (i noticed while proofreading that my chronic insomnia has snuck its way into my fics, hence why no one can get some goddamn rest 💀💀 so forgive me if that's a reoccurring thing, if i could sleep, my characters would too 💀)

a/n: enjoyed this fic? check out my masterlist!!

[anyarose011]

"Nursing on the Poison that Never Stung" {Aemond x Reader}

Summary: It was the one night you were supposed to have off from work. Naturally, that was when Aemond Targaryen came in to bother you (for good reason). He came in for weeks after that to "bother" you some more. Yet, one night changed all of that.

Part 3 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): SMUT, PIV sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), loss of virginity, porn with plot, fingering, riding, titty sucking, dirty talk (High Valyrian style), eye trauma, cussing, mention of past child SA, attempted SA (not done by Aemond), canon typical violence, and someone's throat gets ripped out.

I'm so sorry it took me SOO long. Not only is my life kind of falling at the seams, but this chapter is also hella long so I hope it was worth it! There's a bunch of High Valyrian in this chapter. I myself am not fluent, but I tried to search up phrases and familiarize myself with some of the grammar, so I hope it's accurate. This chapter has a bit more sensitive themes (but mainly at the end, most of it is just porn with a little plot).

Word Count: 9.8k

It had been a week since Aemond Targaryen helped walk you home; and touched you so intimately in your childhood bedroom of all places.

You would see him come and go once in a while from Sylvi’s brothel and talk with him every so often, but not for long. Not even long enough to do anything but greet him, ask him how he was, and then have him be whisked away by Sylvi. It was always a flip of a coin for her to either glare at you or smile every time she did.

Tonight was the rare night you would be at the brothel not to prepare for your ‘Woman at the Well’ act, but to mend the clothes of the women. It was something you did only once every moon, but it was a nice break in between your more so risky job.

Because you mended the clothes so rarely, it would take hours upon hours to do. That was why you begun it at dinner with the girls who usually helped pretty you up.

And, just like the week prior, their minds were filled with-.

“-I heard that war will come to King’s Landing in a fortnight.” One of the younger workers theorized.

Chansey scoffed, eating her dinner. “I heard that you run your mouth with gossip when it should be running down a man’s chest.”

The girls laughed, and you joined along with them momentarily. Then, Valda broke it up.

“I heard that it’s a curse the Kingsguard put upon the land by parading the skull of a dragon through the streets.”

Silence filled the air as if Death himself walked in. Once again, it was Valda who spoke first. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them burned the city to the ground simply to take revenge.”

She stormed out of the room with the slam of the door. Murmurs followed, questioning and complaining of her concern.

“Don’t mind her, girls.” Chansey shook her head. “She’s only upset because she got the clap.”

It was unfortunate for her, but fortunate for you; you had someone to talk to and not worry about a smelly man bursting in to ask for sex.

So, there you were in one of the private suites wearing only your corset and a skirt. You were sitting comfortably on the bed mending a thin dress as Valda laid her head on your lap. It was only the third day of the week; there was no way that many rich suitors would want to reserve a private room.

“How’s your side?” She asked.

“Tender,” you answered. “but I feel much better. How’s your clap?”

“It hurts to piss.” She groaned. “And do you remember when you got shitfaced and saw that fella kissing my cunt?”

Giggling, you nodded. “I do. Against popular belief, I remember many things about that night.”

“Like Prince Aemond?”

“What’s this about your cunt kissing fella?”

“He said he was going to come back tonight.” She whined

“And you’re sure he’s not the one who gave you the disease?”

Sighing, Valda sat up, playfully glaring at you. “Even if he did, he’d have the decency to come up and apologize.”

You chuckled, finishing up your final stitch on the dress before moving onto a sock. “If he does, he’s not kicking me out of this room.”

“You can join us if you’d like.” She joked. “Or just watch, whatever you want.”

“And get the clap from you?!” You laughed.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

You sighed. “At this rate, might as well get it out of the way.”

Valda hummed. “You don’t mind just ‘throwing’ your purity away now?”

“I’m the only woman in this building who hasn’t.”

“Yes but…”

You eyed her. “But?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I like that you’re a little romantic; that you want it to be with someone you love and trust.”

You ceased your stitching, dropping your eyes. “Of course I’ll do it with someone I trust but…I’d rather do it now so it would feel good later.”

Valda gave you a look, saying your name warningly.

“No more talk of this.” You smiled. “I’m glad your tantrum ended.”

She rolled her eyes. “Who said it ended?”

“Why are you so upset?”

 “I love my life.” She sighed. “Regardless of where I work, or how much I make, I am happy. If the Targaryen children or Rhaneyra’s bastards want to make a war because they do not know how to-.”

“-Hold your tongue!” You whispered. “What you say is treason, what if anyone were to hear you?”

She laughed. “We’re in a private room.”

“Someone could be outside and be listening in.”

“They’d make out anything over the moans of men and the women that are faking them?”

“Valda-.”

“-They say Rook’s Rest was a victory, but my brother says otherwise.”

Yes, her brother, Mikhail. No, not a knight of the City Watch or the Kings Guard, but a sailor. Still, he was a sailor who had a silver tongue and could make anyone speak simply with his charm. If it wasn’t secrets he specialized in, it was exporting goods. Sometimes, it was an ordinary transportation of ordinary goods. Other times, either the goods were illegal, and anyone found with them would be hung, or the transportation of them would be off the books (therefore illegal) and a man would be publicly scourged.

Luckily, Mikhail avoided it all.

“What does your brother say?” You questioned, interest piquing.

Despite her early protests of anyone being unable to hear you, she leaned in. “That the king and his dragon fell from the sky while bathing in fire.”

A chill ran down your spine, but she wasn’t finished.

“He also said your little prince had been there on his dragon.”

Taking a deep breath, the first thing you said was “He’s not my little prince.”

“That’s what upsets you?” Valda chuckled bitterly, saying your name gently. “You understand what this means?”

“Say it.” You dared.

She sucked in a breath. “Mikhail’s told me that-.”

“-Mikhail told you that some random man told him what?”

“That it was Aemond Targaryen who lit his own brother aflame.” Valda hissed lowly.

Swallowing the growing dread within you, you said. “Were you there?”

Valda said your name, almost as if she was begging you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Like our Madame has told me.”

“Sylvi is jealous, I am genuinely fearful.”

 “Jealous? She’s jealous of me?” You scoffed. “As-as if I stole something that was hers, when in fact, he isn’t hers because he is a person and she-!”

The sound of rushing footsteps and a body clashing into the wall stopped your thoughts. Valda opened her mouth but was met with the door slamming open. There, only wearing a pair of trousers, was Aemond; his hand clutched over his left eye, writhing in pain.

You called his name, standing. “What’s wrong?”

“Take it out.” He huffed.

“What?”

“This damned thing.” He grunted. “It’s burning.”

Only being able to nod, you gently took his arm and led him to the bed. “Sit, sit, sit.” You turned to Valda. “Do-do you know how to do this?”

She shook her head, just as much terror was on her face. As she opened her mouth to respond, you watched as Sylvi burst through the half-opened door. “My prince, what is the matter?!”

He groaned in response, digging his nails into your arm.

Sylvi turned to you and Valda. “Both of you, head down to the healers and-.”

“-Leave us.” He heaved in pain.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Yet, once you rose from the bed, he didn’t let go of your arm. “Stay.”

“What?” Your voice broke.

Sylvi shook her head. “Aemond-.”

“-Leave us!”

Valda leapt off the bed, giving one last look of regret to you before she left. Sylvi continued to stare at you as if you had been the one to scream at her, before turning and hastily leaving, slamming the door.

You were truly on your own.

Taking control as best as you could, your eyes darted to the opened sewing kit on the vanity. Tweezers. Last time you checked, they should’ve been in there!

You dumped the box upside down, several needles creating almost a trap around you until a pair of tweezers landed on your foot. Picking them up in a snap, you stood in front of the prince.

“Aemond, Aemond,” you clutched his shoulder. “you need to remove your hand.”

When he did so, you winced at the sight before you: the creases of his eye were as red as the morning sun, and the sapphire in his eye was as blue as ever. You set down the tweezers and reached over to the nightstand beside the bed, grabbing the small tub of cream Valda had for her own condition.

“It’s a cure all.” You could only say, opening it. “It should help.”

He gritted his teeth in reply.

Dipping your fingers into the tub and hesitantly rubbing in over the redness. He hissed at the coldness of it, and you mumbled an apology. Once his skin was covered, you set the tub down, and your gaze hovered over the tweezers on the bed.

“Just take it out.” Aemond begged.

“It’ll hurt.” You warned, more so for yourself.

“Please.”

Your throat tightened at his voice; a voice you had never heard him use before. Taking a deep breath, you ripped a piece of your skirt, bunching it into a small cloth and placing it onto your lap. You hovered the tweezers over the sapphire eye in one hand and cupped his cheek with the other.

“Close your eye.”

He listened with trembling breath.

“Cou-count to three, and I’ll do it.”

Aemond nodded. “One-,”

You dug the tweezers into his left eye. A scream tore through his throat and into your ears. You forced yourself to keep steady, pulling on the sapphire. It was barely budging, but it still was moving.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled over his cries.

Aemond forced his screams into raged groans, clutching the sheets of the bed beneath him. “Keep going.”

“If you need me to stop-.”

“-No.”

You went back in, twisting the tweezers instead of just pulling. The sapphire was moving more than it had been, and with one final tug, it was out. Instantly dropping the tweezers onto the floor, you took the cloth off your dress and covered his left eye as he brought up his own hand to hold it.

“I know, I know,” You whimpered, still holding his face and kissing his left brow, mumbling against his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

With a final kiss to his forehead, you pulled away and looked at him as his body shuddered from the pain. He opened his eye, fresh tears escaping. It was only then, in his vulnerability as he stared back at you, did you realize:

You had just placed your lips upon him.

“Aemond I-.”

He silenced you, his right hand clutching your neck. Your breath stilled, as if you were to breathe, you wouldn’t be able to anymore. His one eye burned into yours, silently begging him to have mercy on whatever would happen next.

Then…he kissed you.

It was as if he was trying to devour your face when your lips weren’t enough. His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he tried to kiss every inch of skin. His teeth got into the mix of it, leaving temporary marks.

Setting your hand on his bare chest, you pushed him away once you began to see stars. Your chest rising and falling as if you had run for your life, you looked at him. No more tears had fallen from his right eye, and from his left…there was skin still reddened and irritated from your prodding and pulling. The long scar had been most apparent to you that night.

You must have been the first person to have truly seen him like this. Not as a fearsome prince with one eye, not as a killer…

But a man; a man who ran to you and only wanted you in a time of great distress.

With one, brave breath, you placed the lightest of kisses across his scar; barely touching his skin. You hand traveled into his hair, pressing your lips down the bridge of his nose until you finally made it to his mouth with the same gentleness.

He followed your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you impossibly closer. You were on your knees, practically hovering over his lap when his kisses became more feverous little by little. It was when he bit your bottom lip you finally pulled away.

“You should go to the healers downstairs.” You said, just remembering why he came up to you in the first place. “The best one is named Alezander. Or-or you have those fancier ones at the Red Keep, right? Perhaps they’ll know more how to-.”

Aemond only hummed loud enough to get your attention, but other than that, spent more of his time unlacing your corset.

“Out of all the days to wear undergarments…” He shook his head, teasing.

 “I apologize that I didn’t dress appropriately for your liking tonight but-Aemond, I’m serious!” You grabbed his hands from around your waist, stopping him. “I don’t want you to get an infection.”

His smile did not waver. He took one of his hands out from your grip and stroked your cheek. “Please.” He mimicked.

Oh, you were fuming now.

“I’m not going to ask you again-.”

He laid you down on the bed, then traveling down to your legs, and his head disappearing under your skirt. A squeak escaped your mouth when you felt his lips upon your right ankle, then your knee.

“What-what are you-?”

Your leg was soon resting over his shoulder, and you felt his nose brush your pearl before his lips followed.

Another groan left you as he continued to kiss you somewhere you never knew you needed to be kissed before. Valda had told you how wonderful it is…but gods, you never believed her until then.

It was embarrassing how high your cries sounded as he continuously licked strips up and down your sweltering cunt. His fingers soon parted the folds, and just somehow, you became more sensitive, clutching the sheets beneath you.

There was a fire burning in your stomach, but it tightened and tightened like a knot in your hair. You arched your back with each growing pleasure, and you spotted Aemond’s hand reaching for you.

Taking it, you pressed a kiss to each knuckle before placing it on the top of your breast peeking out of the corset. He squeezed it every time his nose bumped against your clitoris, and the fire within you turned into an inferno until you were rocking against his face, moaning with each thrust.

Then, it stopped.

A haze of tiredness you’d never experienced swept over you. You hadn’t realized Aemond came out of your skirt until he was looming over you, kissing your cheeks and down your throat.

“What was that?” Your words slurred.

“My admiration for you.” He nibbled on your pulse point. “You’ve felt that before, haven’t you?”

“Your admiration or that?”

His hand traveled back under your skirt, teasing your clit and inserting part of his finger into you. You gasped at the sensitivity of it. “That.”

You shook your head.

He retracted his hand. “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“Is that why he called it a ‘little death’?”

“Who?”

“The man pawing after me when I saw you with your cock out.” You admitted as if you were drunk. “He said he’d give me a ‘little death’ when I was stabbed.”

Aemond nodded, helping you sit up and begin to unlace your corset. “Do you remember his name?”

“He didn’t tell me. I felt like I died a little just now, that’s why I said it.” You stopped his hands again. “You didn’t ask me if I want this.”

“Do you?”

You nod at first, then shrink into yourself. “I…I don’t think you’ll enjoy it that much.”

“I just want you.”

“Valda said it hurt the first time she did it.”

“She laid with a man who had no idea what he was doing.” He brushed your lip with his thumb. “Just relax.”

You determined that Aemond Targaryen had a way about him; how you somehow could trust him after everything. So that’s why you turned your back to him, making it easier for him to remove your corset. After it was fully unlaced, you slipped it off, revealing your naked back to him.

“I’m not turning until you’re bare first.”

He didn’t give a retort or an insult. You felt the weight of him behind you leave, and heard his trousers fall to the floor.

“Look at me.”

You wanted to then and there, but you didn’t. Instead, you rose up onto your knees and tugged your skirt down. It was all over when you tried to step out of it; falling onto your side with your other leg still in the skirt.

All you could do was laugh at that point. Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your arm, laying behind you, lightly chuckling in your ear. He helped you slip out of your skirt, and then ran a finger over your side where a scar was beginning to form.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little, but not horribly.” You rested on the pillow.

Aemond turned you gently onto your back, his eye running down your naked form. You mirrored him, taking in just how lean he truly was. You were just a girl as well; of course, your gaze paused on his cock dangling between his legs. He never looked away as he crawled on top of you.

“This might feel strange.” He warned, lowering himself and pressing his cock just against your center.

“Okay,” you said.

He was right; it felt strange when he inserted himself. In fact, it felt wrong. You whimpered at the feeling, the tightness and the discomfort. Aemond shushed you, kissing your tightly shut eyes.

“Gimin, gimin.” he whispered. “Lykirī. Lykirī.”

Despite not knowing what he was saying to you, you felt at peace. Your breathing slowed as the pain fell away, and you opened your eyes. You took his face into your hands, bringing his lips down to yours, and wrapping your legs around his waist, your heels pressing into his backside.

“Please,” you begged. “just go slow.”

He placed a kiss to your brow before rolling his hips. You had decided that, if and when you were going to lay with a man for the first time, you would never fake your pleasure for his comfort. Whether it was a stranger, a friend, or even a prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

You would let Aemond Targaryen know if he was doing a bad job.

Yet, as he rocked into you at a gentle pace, and the trail of his pubic hair caressed your bundle of nerves, you couldn’t help the small, staccato grunts that escaped. One of his hands took yours, holding and pressing it into the mattress to hold himself up, while the other held your face. Your free hand traveled into his hair, pulling him chest-to-chest with you, and placing your lips on his.

He quickened once you copied his thrusts, wrapping one of his arms around your waist to move you at an angle that felt…oh.

Your cries grew embarrassingly louder, tugging on his hair and causing him to moan right into your mouth. You were barely kissing now, just your lips hovering over one another as he fucked you.

His hand guided yours down to where his cock and your cunt met. At the feeling of something moving against your hand, your eyes flew open.

“Aōla renigon?” He asked. “Do you feel me?”

“Yes, yes!” You gasped as you felt his bulge move within you.

You were lowered back down onto the bed, but he did not slow for a second. His mouth went to your chest, taking one of your breasts in between his lips. His tongue circled your areola, and it was then your hips began to grow sore while his found a new vigor pounding into you.

He was more vocal too, and as his groans reverberated through your skin and the room, the growing pleasure within you was climbing and climbing until-.

Until-.

A cry none like the others tore through you. No, it wasn’t loud. Unrestrained, yes, but it wasn’t so comically deafening. Aemond pulled himself away from you, and took his throbbing dick into his hands, palming himself and tossing his head back in a groan.

Spurts of his cum tainted your stomach and quivering legs as you laid flat on your back.

Both of your chests rose and fell like waves on the sea in a storm, and you couldn’t look away from each other. Never in your life had you felt so…okay with being completely bare in front of a man.

To be fair, it was the first time you were.

Aemond grabbed a spare blanket that was on the bed and wiped off his spent. You hadn’t even asked him to, but he did so regardless. As he worked over you, you moved a piece of hair out of his face.

“You’re beautiful.”

He smiled, sitting up and tossing the blanket off the bed. “I’m the first man that bedded you, of course you say that.”

“No.” You shook your head, sitting up. “I mean it. At least, when you’re being nice you are.”

Looking down at your legs, you saw a strain of blood upon the blanket. “Oh shit.”

“It’s natural.” He immediately reassured. “This was the first time you-.”

“-No, I know. It’s just still unusual.”

Aemond kissed your cheek before crawling between your legs, resting his head on your chest. You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart finally slow. The only sound in the room were both of your steady breaths.

“What happened before you came here?” You asked in the silence.

“I was with Sylvi.” He surprised you by answering. “My eye had felt strange the whole time, until it was too much. I asked where you were, and she told me.”

“You know that’s not all of it.”

As if it would draw your attention away, he placed a kiss to your breast. Rolling your eyes, you pulled him off so he could properly look at you. “When you took me home, you doubled over in pain because of your eye. That was a week ago.”

You saw right through him as he had done to you. Sighing, he laid down beside you, shutting his eye. “I have to take the jewel out every so often to clean both it and the socket. It hurts to do so, and I’ve been busy considering my sister is trying to usurp my brother.”

Rhaenyra, you had to remind yourself for a second, not Queen Halena.

“You’ve kept it in for a while.” You finished for him.

“I have.” He looked back at you. “And before you ask, I’ll get to the maesters tomorrow and have them put it back in.”

“Sylvi didn’t tell you I was here, did she?”

“I asked one of the girls serving me wine.”

You hummed, turning on your side. “Not before putting on your undergarments.”

“I didn’t want to frighten you.”

Laughing, your mind was taken back to that night you wandered upon him and Sylvi as you were bleeding out.

“Gods above, you were naked as a newborn babe when I was being stitched up!”

A grin etched his lips; he smiled more when you were with him those days. “I didn’t have time to cover myself.”

“It was odd though, how you walked out into the open with your cock on display.”

“It was the second time I had done that.”

“I suppose princes are allowed to do that.” You sighed. “I suppose men are allowed to do that.”

Aemond drew his eye back up to the ceiling. “Women are more beautiful in their natural state than men. It’s truly a shame they cannot walk outside completely bare.”

You rose your brow at the statement, turning onto your stomach and poking his cheek teasingly. “Oh? And if you were king, would you let them?”

He looked back at you, his eye briefly running down your body.

“Only a few.”

“You nasty, rotten dog!” You shoved him, laughing.

His face changed into a moment of panic, and you thought you said something wrong until he slid off the bed and crouched on the floor. Sitting up you watched as he frantically crawled on his hands and knees, mumbling in High Valyrian.

You called his name, feet hanging off the bed. “What is it?”

“The sapphire!” He hissed. “I can’t find it.”

Grasping the seriousness, you got onto the floor with him, searching the entire floor for the jewel. You both must’ve searched for just a few minutes until you heard Aemond sniffling. He wasn’t crying, but his face started to turn red from frustration.

“Hey,” you said softly. “if we don’t find it now, we’ll-.”

“-You wouldn’t understand!” He spat. “If I don’t find it this instant than she’ll-!”

He stopped himself, his anger crumbling just as it began. His body was tensed and puffed out like a bird trying to show aggression; but underneath all that, you saw terror.

“What will she do?” You asked, sitting up taller.

His gaze dropped, and his breathing quickened as he rapidly blinked back his tears.

“May I touch you?” You questioned, and he looked at you as if you had told him you loved him. He nodded. You cupped his face in your hands. “Whatever she wants to do to you, I won’t let her. Do you hear me? I’ll kick and scream like a wailing child before I let her harm you.”

For whatever reason at all (perhaps it was because he was afraid, perhaps it was because you were both naked on the floor, or perhaps it was because he had told you a shocking piece of history he had with her), but you assumed ‘she’ was Sylvi.

A woman you had come to trust ever since you were a child. A woman who had in turn, took advantage of a boy the same age you were when she proclaimed she’d never let a man touch you, even if he was Viserys himself.

You still thought that, of course, when Aemond wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, kissing you before then resting his head in your lap. You returned to softly brushing his hair.

“She made the maesters put it in.” He confessed. “She could only look at her son for what he was for only a few moons until she became disgusted.”

…He was speaking of his mother….the Dowager Queen.

It was still heartbreaking; so, you decided to ask. “And what is her son?”

“A monster.”

He didn’t even have to think. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the softest of kisses to his scar. “Would a monster walk me home in the rain and show kindness to the only other person I can call family? Would a monster feel sorrow in believing that he is a monster?”

Aemond hid himself further into your lap. You traced your hand up and down his spine. “It’s late. Perhaps you should-?”

“-Just a little longer…”

Sighing lightly, you teased. “Could we at least be on the bed?”

He didn’t leave your arms for another hour after that; and no one had knocked on the door either.

Two weeks later, three things were apparent. The first was that all of King’s Landing had been put on lockdown, not allowing any person to leave, or any person to enter. The next, was that Aemond had been appointed as Prince Regent, which added to Valda’s statement of him being the one to purposefully set his brother ablaze with his dragon.

And the third: You were completely, and most ardently addicted to him.

Almost every night, whether it was after you put your grandmother to bed, or even after luring and robbing a man in nothing but a thin dress, you would meet him at Sylvi’s brothel in one of the private rooms.

Each time you fucked was better than the last. In the short time you had been with him, you’d gone from being an unsure, inexperienced girl, to having touched every inch of the prince’s body. Some nights were more intense than others; physically and emotionally.

One night, you would be rocking into him until both your skins turned red, and the other, you would be holding him in your arms, talking about nothing and everything.

He taught you how to touch yourself, you taught him how to fully bare his soul to you (or at least…you thought he did).

“I haven’t done this for a while.” Aemond told you one night as you kneeled in between his legs.

You giggled, still high off of how he used his fingers on you prior. “Which part?”

“A lot of it. I hadn’t with Sylvi since…I can’t even recall.”

Swallowing at his words, you asked. “You mean, you didn’t fuck her?”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t even let her kiss me, it felt…confusing.”

“I saw her mouth on you…”

Placing his hand on your cheek, he rubbed his thumb over your lips. “Perhaps I was imagining it to be someone else’s.”

He didn’t have to imagine it that night.

Whenever you arrived at the brothel, the worst reaction from the other girls (mainly Valda) was a disapproving shake of the head, or light teasing. Then, there was Sylvi.

She had her back turned to you one night as she counted coin. You returned from a job (he had pulled your hair, so you would have to tell Aemond to be gentle), and it was the first time you were alone with her. Other nights, she would stare at your from across the room as a man pawed and groped her, all the while, you were on your way to find the Prince Regent.

You tried to tiptoe past her, but she turned as if she knew you were already there.

She spoke your name with a smile. “How was the night?”

You approached her, reaching into the pocket of your dress, then throwing her the small sack. Sylvi opened it, her face lighting up.

“Seven Hells…” She gasped.

“I know.” You shrugged. “I didn’t expect him to be so wealthy either.”

“Did you rob a Lannister?” She jested.

“I wish.”

You thought it was over once you gave her the coin, and so you tried to brush past her to go up the staircase. Only for her to catch your hand.

“Stay,” she said. “I feel like I haven’t properly spoken to you in ages.”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can.” She laughed, pulling you around so she could see your eyes. “I’ll call in your little friend to make us cake.”

You sighed. “Sylvi-.”

“-She makes Northern Snow, right?”

“Sylvi-.”

“-You’ve done so well, I say you-.”

“-Can’t you just leave me alone?!”

You hated yelling; you felt like you would throw up every time you did. But she wouldn’t stop, you had to. Her smile dropped. Not in anger, not in sadness, but annoyance.

“Leave you alone to do what?” She challenged.

“I…” You glanced off to the side; there wasn’t anything there, you just didn’t want to look at her. Then, you finally did. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to talk. I know that the arrangement between Prince Aemond and I upsets you-.”

“-You assume I’m jealous of you?”

“What else am I supposed to assume?”

“That I worry for you.” She cupped your cheek.

You pull away, laughing joylessly. “Why is everyone telling me that? You were with him for nights on end and never had anyone afraid for you.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why? Why isn’t it the same.”

“You’re…you.”

You could only gawk at her; jaw loosely hanging. Deciding not to even grace her with a retort, you turned on your heel and rushed up the stairs.

“What would your mother think of you pleasuring the prince for free?” She asked.

Freezing where you stood, you didn’t even have the strength to turn and look at her. So, you forced yourself to stand taller. “What would my mother think of you stealing a child’s innocence?”

You were no longer in the mood to be kind.

She didn’t say anything for a bit. “His brother was the one to-.”

“‘-I don’t care if Viserys himself came into my brothel. I would be put to the sword before I let a man lay a hand on a child.’” You recited perfectly.

Sylvi breathed deeply, folding her hands. “King Aegon did not come in asking for a child, he came in with one; one I was not responsible for maintaining his honor-.”

“-But taking it.”

“What do you think will come from this?” She taunted. “Hm? Do you seek only carnal pleasure? Pleasure in knowing a Targaryen desires you? Or are you truly a foolish little girl? You think he’ll ask for your hand in marriage, only for him to place it around his cock!”

You still hadn’t turned to look at her. Tears pricked your eyes as you trembled with rage. Gripping the railing, you spoke coolly.

“It doesn’t matter what I seek from the Prince Regent. What matters is you keep your childish envy far from the both of us. Goodnight, Sylvi.”

When you got to the room, you didn’t give Aemond the time to ask what was wrong before you sealed your lips with his. He didn’t stop you.

There were more nights than not he would speak in High Valyrian as you shared your body with him. You giggled while he pressed kisses to your chest.

“You could be insulting me, and I wouldn’t even know it.”

He looked up at you, his mouth traveling lower. “Perhaps I should teach you then.”

Of course, you thought it was just him flirting; saying something tender and personal to make you feel good.

But then he brought you books the next night; books for children on how to learn the language properly, fictional stories in High Valyrian, and a dictionary from Common to High Valyrian. He had meant it.

“Gods above.” You breathed, laying on your stomach, flipping through the pages of a book. “I don’t think I’ve read so much.”

“Is it too much for you?” Aemond pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“No, I actually enjoy it.”

You felt the bed dip on each side of your thighs as he hovered above you. “I’ll take you to the Red Keep one day.” He teased his cock over the globes of your ass. “You cannot comprehend the library until you see it.”

Humming, you shut the book. “I would adore that.”

He hadn’t taken you to the Red Keep at all, and he never would.

It was one night (one damned, fucking night) that determined it.

“Skorkydoso glaesā?” You questioned, lying under the covers with him.

“Sȳz iksan, kirimvose. Se ao?”

“Glaeson.”

He furrowed his brow. “Skoro syt?”

You mirrored him, hesitating on your words. “Syrī tosh ao?”

Aemond stared at you before a grin spread wide across his cheeks.

“What?” You asked.

“You cannot hate my company that much.”

“What?!” You sat up in shock. “I told you I’m doing well because I’m with you!”

“Glaeson, you said. It means ‘Not well’. Glaesan means you’re well.”

Sighing, you laid down flat on the mattress. “I’m never going to get it.”

He traced his fingers over your stomach. “You won’t if you stop now. Again.”

“Can’t you read me one of those children’s books again? The one about the bird and the fish, or something.” You begged. “I’ll translate it.”

“If it gives you any peace of mind,” he kissed the tip of her ear. “you speak better than my brother.”

Huffing, you looked up at him. “May I make a request?”

“I’m not reading another story.”

“It’s not that, I swear.”

“Then what is it?”

“Let us never talk about family when either of us are naked.”

He turned you onto your side, hugging you from behind. “I’ll allow it.”

You relaxed against his bare chest, deciding to fill the air with your first thought. “I had three nightmares last night.”

“Three?” He sounded offput, but still brushed your shoulder with his lips.

“One right after the other. I thought I woke up, but I was still asleep.”

 “What happened in them?”

“I can’t really remember.” you curled your hand around his. “There were stacks of dirty laundry and chairs everywhere at some point. You were mean to me in one of them.”

“How was I mean?”

“You called me a cunt.”

“Well, you are.”

You shoved him off of you; not so roughly to hurt him, but not playfully.

He still chuckled. “But you have the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”

You scoffed. “Now you’re lying.”

Aemond placed his hand on your shoulder as he sat up, turning you to look at him. He said your name genuinely. “I mean it.”

A smile finally appeared on your lips, and you snickered, pushing him away jokingly this time. “How in the world have you not married yet when you say such loving things?”

He sat against the headboard. “I was meant to.”

“Oh…” Well…you weren’t exactly expecting that. “And why didn’t you?”

“I was betrothed to a Baratheon girl to secure alliance. After what happened, Lord Borros wasn’t so keen on letting me be near her.”

No one should blame you for not knowing how to properly respond right away. So, after some thought, you said. “Did you want to get married when you were younger?”

“Not much of something I imagined; I suppose you did though?”

You smiled shyly. “Gigi would read me her fictional novels; many were romance.”

“And you wanted a knight in shining armor to come and whisk you away from your dull life.”

“No, that was Gigi.” You sat up, grabbing a comb on the nightstand and began to run in through your hair. “I much preferred the quiet, knowledgeable boy who was outshined by the loud and brutish men.”

He hummed. There were rare moments like these where you could not see his gaze, but you knew how it burned into your skin. How, despite being given permission to, he held himself back from touching you.

“And which did your mother prefer?”

At the mention of her…you didn’t feel sad. Was this how you thought he was the one for you? How you didn’t feel like he was invading you whenever he asked about her? How you wanted to tell him about her?

“I’m actually not sure.” You looked at him, grinning. “I think she had to see all sides of men and stopped caring for them.”

“They can be ugly, I’m sure.”

You nodded, setting the comb down sitting up and resting your head on his shoulder, “They can, but a few of them aren’t so bad.”

“What do you remember most about her?” He asked.

A memory resurfaced sooner than you thought. “On the rare days she’d wash our clothes and bedding, she’d let me help. I’d get to stomp out the dirt, hit the clothes, but my favorite part was after she’d dry everything. Especially on a hot day when I was little, she’d come in and toss all of the blankets and towels on me; I’ve never felt anything warmer in my life.”

Aemond’s gaze drifted from you to the front of the room. “It must have been nice.”

You tilted your head. “Something’s bothering you. I won’t ask but-.”

“-He got away with it.”

“What?” You took your head off his shoulder to look at him properly.

He sighed. “When we were children, and I had claimed Vhagar, one of them wasn’t happy for me. She said that she was hers to claim because she had been her mother’s dragon. She attacked me, and the other three followed. I fought them off and tried to run, but they caught me. I had struck Jacaerys with a rock, and Luke had struck my eye with his blade.”

“Aemond…”

“I forgave him for it long ago.” He leaned farther back, sighing. “I understand why he felt the need to defend himself; I don’t forgive him for getting away with it…and my mother didn’t for so long.”

She hated him, you knew that already. It hadn’t been any of your business before, but now…

“My mama would’ve liked you.”

The words leave your mouth before you could stop them. That was when he finally looked at you, a smile threatening to show. “Why?”

“Well, you’re funny, and intelligent-.”

“-Oh, stop; but do go on.” He teased.

“And you know that I am more so those things than you are.”

He hummed. “I do?”

“Of course you do.”

“I rebuke this slander.”

 “Well, what is it you want me to say?” You laughed, dramatically tossing yourself back down onto the bed. “Oh Aemond, you’re foul and arrogant, but kiss me anyway because you have the most fearsome, biggest dragon in the-!”

He followed your order, leaning over and kissing your lips fully before caging you between in arms. “You should meet her one of these days.”

“Vhagar?” You chuckled. “She’d kill me.”

“Perhaps, but not until I take you up on her.”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not stepping foot on that dragon.”

“I command you to.”

“Oh!” You gasped in an attempt to taunt him. “Oh, you command me to?! What else will my Prince Regent command of me?”

He smirked, kissing the tip of your nose. “As we are in the sky, I will do unspeakable things to you.”

The words did not reach meaning as you heard them. Then, once they did, you began to laugh. No matter what Aemond said to you, you could not stop laughing.

“What is it?” He questioned.

You refuted. “I can’t say it.”

“Your Prince Regent commands you.”

Taking the deepest of breaths to relax yourself, you finally said. “The first time I ride a dragon, it will not be while I’m riding y-.”

His lips on yours silence you once again. Though this time, he wasn’t letting up; diving his tongue into your mouth as he began to place more of his weight on top of you. Before he could completely trap you, you tossed yourself over him, straddling and holding him down, panting.

“I wouldn’t mind it now; if you’re fine with that.”

He grinned like the devil, his hands squeezing your hips. “You can practice.”

Giggling, you took his cock in your hands and rose yourself up before sinking down onto him. You were still wet from earlier that night, so it didn’t take too long to readjust. Once you were fully seated, you rested your palms on his chest, beginning to move.

You switched between rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock. When you’d get tired, you’d lean back and let him chase his own pleasure, all the while, mumbling in his mother tongue.

“No, no.” You babbled, leaning forward and halting your motions. He cursed, but you remained still. “Let me hear you.”

Aemond called your name like he was praying; like he was begging for one of the Seven to hear him. He tried to move your hips himself, but you tore his hands off you, pinning them on each side of his head.

“When I move, you move.” You hissed, then said the next words slowly. “Let me hear you.”

He sucked in each breath, collecting himself before uttering. “Dīnilūks.”

Of course, it was something you didn’t know.

So, you merely kissed along his jaw. “Ñuho glaeso hūrus.”

He grunted when you jolted your hips forward at an uneven pace. Sitting up, Aemond held you against him with no space between you. He thrusted like a madman, sucking on the pulse point in your neck.

“Did-ah!-did I say it right?” You murmured, feeling a coil tighten in your stomach.

“Yes.” He breathed, grasping one of your tits. “Yes!”

A loud knock on the door bounced off the walls of the room, causing a sharp gasp to escape you.

Sylvi said your name. “Open the door, I need you for something.”

You immediately halted your movements, swallowing thickly. Sighing, you went to get off of Aemond, only for him to latch his arm around your hips.

“Keep going.”

You shook your head. “You know she’ll throw a fit.”

“I don’t care.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Let her hear what I do to you, and I’ll let her hear what she couldn’t do to me.”

With quivering breath, you resumed the movement in your hips, pushing him back down onto the bed. Aemond fucked into you like a wild animal, almost throwing you off balance if not for digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Gods,” he moaned. “ñuha dijītsos, if you could see yourself…”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll make you-fuck-I’ll make you watch yourself one day.” He took your pearl between his fingers. “Watch how I penetrate you, how I desecrate you.”

Whining, you sped up your thrusts, the slapping of skin and the calling of his name from your lips drowning out anything that was not in the room.

You moved with him as best you could, leaning over him to press your lips to his as one of his hands moved to your backside, pulling you even closer. The sweat of your skin glued you to his chest, your thighs starting to cramp from kneeling.

“Ae-Ae-!” You grunted, feeling the burn both from your growing pleasuring and the pain in your legs.

“Give it to me.” He made a weak attempt to suppress his grunts.

Your orgasm hit you with both the suddenness and intensity of a screaming arrow. Vision blurring, your cries grew sharper as you rode it out, and all the while, Aemond was still thrusting up into your cunt. As you were beginning to come down, he let out a moan from his chest, releasing himself into you.

You collapsed fully onto him, it being your heavy breathing now harmonizing instead of your groans.

“What-what did you call me?” You kissed his heart. “I’m your dijistos?”

“Dijītsos.” He corrected, running his hand up your back. “You’re my little desire; although, the word is much cruder than that.”

“Little arousal then?”

“Exactly.”

You both stayed like that for less than you wanted to; again, the knocking on the door disturbing your peace. Sitting up, you pulled yourself off of him, hissing from the pain in your legs.

Aemond sat up. “I’ll get it.”

“No.” You grabbed his arm. “Just put my dress on. I have to look somewhat presentable.”

He reached down, grabbing the thin dress you always wore for your jobs. You placed your arms above your head as he slipped your dress over you.

“You know,” you began. “if I had it my way, I would say we should hide under the covers like children and pretend the rest of the world does not exist.”

Humming, he kissed your clavicle. “Perhaps one day we shall.”

You gritted your teeth once you got up, only then feeling Aemond’s spent travel down your leg. Still, you were high from the overall activity. Which is why you slammed the door open to greet Sylvi as if she still favored you.

“Ah, what a pleasant surprise!” You cheered. “What can I do for you, Madame?”

Her nostrils flared for a moment until she forced herself to relax. “Well, at least you look the part.” She shoved an empty jug into your arms. “Chansey found a man for you to seduce.”

You stared at her before chuckling. “I already did one an hour ago.”

“Two hours ago. This one is actually wealthy. Stupid too, so it shouldn’t be hard for you.”

Sighing, you knew there wasn’t any other way to get out of it. Yes, there was the Prince Regent behind you, but he didn’t seem to want to intrude for some reason. You foolishly shrugged it off.

“Okay, just let me pretty myself-.”

“-Please,” she interrupted, “he’s not looking for an innocent maiden. He’s looking for another warm place to put his cock.”

And she left you standing in the doorway. You glanced into the jug and saw your sheathed knife visible, along with a red ribbon, Sighing, you sat down against the wall and reached in to grab them. You soon felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Do you need help?” Aemond asked, crouching in front of you.

“Sure.” you sighed, hiking up your dress and laying your knife against your thigh. You held the ribbon up to him. “Tie it, please.”

He double knotted the ribbon, placing a kiss to your knee when he was finished. “I shall be here when you come back.”

You scoffed. “It’s getting late. Won’t the council be worried about where the Prince Regent is?”

“Precisely because I am, I choose to stay here. Do not keep me waiting.”

Kissing his cheek, you wished him farewell before rushing down the stairs and past all the couples and groups, pleasuring themselves with a newfound vigor.

The night felt a little darker that night. You didn’t know the exact time, but it wasn’t exactly the darkest hour of night you had gone out; at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. It was more likely you were growing tired and weary from exhausting prior activity as you trudged through the slim paths of King’s Landing.

You still managed to find the man you were meant to be looking for; stumbling around as if it was the first time he was ever drunk. With a sigh, you began to sing the same song, walking in the direction of the well you have come to know for years.

It wasn’t just your body that was weak; it was your voice. That night wasn’t the nicest you sounded, but it had got the job done. Sylvi had been right: It was easy.

Just with from the sight of your blade gleaming in the moonlight, the man cowered like a child, tossing a hefty sack at you.

You didn’t even touch him.

So, with a skip in your step, you rushed back to the pleasure house. You dropped off the money in Sylvi’s room and attempted to make yourself more presentable for Aemond. That being dropping one of the straps off your shoulder; there wasn’t much more you could do. With a smile on your face as you reached the door, you grabbed the handle and pushed it open.

There was a man in the room; a man that wasn’t Aemond.

“Ah, there you are.”

His grin was hideous, in fact, his entire self was. The look in his eyes as they ran over your body caused you to shrivel like a leaf. If it were any other night that you had found a stranger in a bedroom, you would’ve known exactly what to do.

Yet, tonight you were expecting your lover to be there; and he was nowhere to be seen.

“You have the wrong room, ser.” You deepened your voice.

“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t.”

He said your name.

How did he know your name?

“You’re not meant to be here.” You attempted to sound forceful, but instead, your voice wavered when he approached you. “I suggest you leave before the man I am expecting-.”

“-Comes back?” He interrupted. “The Prince Regent? Is that whom you speak of?”

Swallowing thickly, he was standing so close you could finally see him better. It was the same man that followed you as you were bleeding out; the man that left only when you stumbled upon Sylvi and Aemond.

You reached between your legs and whipped the knife out from under your dress. Unsheathing it once it was out, you dove the blade to his torso. He caught it as the tip reached his clothing.

“Who do you think told me to be here?” He taunted, squeezing your wrist.

Your foot met his shin, and he stumbled backwards, loosening his grip. With a yell, you rose your hand again and slashed his arm. He hissed, and you made the mistake of looking into his eyes. A fury you had never seen before washed over them.

He grabbed your wrist again, twisting it this time. A horrible crack was heard, and a cry ripped through your throat as you collapsed to your knees, dropping the knife. Gripping your hair, he forced you back to your feet before tossing you into the wall.

Falling onto your side after colliding with the wall, all of the wind had been knocked out of you. Just as you took a breath in, the man landed a kick to your ribs. He picked his foot up as you cried and kicked again.

As he tried to do so a third time, you released a growl, crawling to the knife on the floor. He picked it up just as it was in reach.

“How does a silly little cunt like you know how to use this? Woman at the Well?” He questioned, setting the blade on the bed.

You got to your knees despite how your body stung, and only was able to place one foot on the ground before his knuckles met your nose.

He snickered as you laid on your back, breathing unstable. “It’s not your style to give up, isn’t it?”

The man got onto his knees, essentially straddling you. He brushed his hand over your face, and little whines left your bloodied lips as you tried to push him away.

“Gods,” he sighed, moving one of the thin straps down your shoulder, exposing your breast to him.

“Stop.” You sniffled. “Please, stop!”

Wrapping his arms around your aching body, he brought your lips up to his and kissed you like you had never been kissed before. It was violent; hands tearing and grasping your dress, teeth dug into your flesh.

And you reciprocated.

You placed your hands upon his cheeks, attempting to respond with the same vigor. You pulled your lips away, pressing them to his cheek, then traveling downwards.

His chin.

His jaw.

His neck.

You lingered there, forcing out little noises of pleasure when his hand traveled up your thigh, dancing closer and closer to your center.

That was when you sunk your teeth into his throat. For just a moment of euphoria, he thought it was a love bite.

Then, an involuntary scream left his mouth.

Blood colored your teeth red as you bit into his skin until each little strand of flesh was torn off from his neck. He’d let go of you long ago, and you landed on your back from the force of pulling yourself away.

You watched as he crawled backwards, hand on his neck as he groaned out in agony. The adrenaline made it to your legs, letting you stand effortlessly. As if you were a spectator of your own body, you watched yourself spitting his own throat onto him, before picking the knife off of the bed.

Kneeling over his body, you jammed the blade into his neck.

Again

And

Again.

Red painted your body and dress like it was a canvas. It was almost impossible to find the color of your own skin when you were finished.

It was exhaustion that forced you to stop. You didn’t know what silence truly was until you did. You didn’t know when he stopped screaming, or when he had stopped breathing. When you were forced to sit down and catch your breath, did you only then realize you were alone.

You tasted blood and tears on your tongue as you whaled, your hands shaking so horribly the knife dropped without you knowing. The rest of your body slid to the floor, crying into the creaking wood.

As a puddle formed underneath you, you brought your head up, and something shimmered in your sight. Rubbing your eyes, you looked again, and saw something shine under the bed.

Crawling with what little strength you had, you reached for it, clutching something smooth with somewhat of a rough texture. Your breath stilled when you brought it out into the light.

Aemond's sapphire. The one that was in his eye and lost for weeks...under the bed the whole time.

“Seven Hells...”

You clutched the sapphire in your hand, snapping your head up at the voice. Once you saw Sylvi, wide-eyed and mouth hung open, you wept.

She dropped to her knees, taking off her shawl and wrapping it around you. She shushed you, caging you in her arms and pressing kisses on your face.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She soothed as you tried to fight out of her hold. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

You finally gave into her embrace, tears and blood coating her neck as you buried yourself into it. She kissed your messy hair, squeezing you tighter and tighter until you squealed.

Sylvi loosened her hold. “I’m sorry. Sweetie, what happened?”

You blubbered your response. In your mind, you were forming words, but your mouth was doing otherwise. You had said something of ‘Aemond’ at some point, and that was when she spoke up.

“Aemond?” She repeated, and you nodded. Her eyes had grown impossibly larger than when she had first seen you and the man’s body. She said your name gently. “Gods above…I saw him leave and speak with another man but I-I hadn’t thought he…I’m so sorry.”

“He-he said he would,” you stammered out. “he said…”

He would wait for you to come back.

That was what he told you.

“I’m sorry.” Sylvi lamented, hugging you again.

You pulled away from her. “I-I want to go home.”

“Let me just get the healers to check you-.”

“-Mama,” you shivered. “she-she’s home by now.”

Sylvi took a quaking breath, saying your name again.

“I-I’ve never been out this late,” you forced yourself to stand. “I don’t want to worry her or-or Gigi.”

“You shouldn’t be walking right now.” She followed after you.

Everything was abnormal after she said that. You could hear her saying words, but your mind wasn’t letting you process what any of them meant. You stumbled your way down the stairs and out of the pleasure house; no one had stopped you.

 It was as if you were a babe again: learning to walk, and all the words around you were nothing more than babbles and strange sounds.

And no one had bothered you that night. You realize now that you were either extraordinarily lucky, or the Seven do exist.

When you made it back to your house, you hobbled in through the door and the living room; trying your best not to make a sound.

You thought about going into your mother’s bedroom, not minding the fact you would have to sleep in between her and Gigi…but your hand stained the door with blood once you touched it.

No, you weren’t going to dirty the bed; you and your mother had just cleaned the sheets. She’d be mad at you.

You tiptoed into your room, shut the door, and collapsed into your childhood bed.

The sapphire you had forgotten about dropped from your hand and onto the floor, but you didn't even hear it fall.

If you woke up tomorrow, than this was all just a bad dream.

GOTCHA BITCH!

No, this ISN'T the last part, I just overestimated how much I'd write and wanted to scare the shit out of you guys.

Also, you may be wondering: WTF is the timeline?

Well...I'm wondering too

High Valyrian

Gimin, gimin. Lykirī. Lykirī: “I know, I know. Be calm, be calm.”

Aōla renigon?: "Do you feel me?"

Skorkydoso glaesā?: “How are you?”

Sȳz iksan, kirimvose. Se ao?: “I am fine, thank you. And you?”

Glaeson: “Not well.”

 Skoro syt?: “Why?”

 Syrī tosh ao?: “I'm with you?”

Glaesan: “Well.”

Dīnilūks: “Marry me.”

Ñuho glaeso hūrus: “Moon of my life.”

Ñuha dijītsos: “My little desire.”

[annebrontesrequiem]

Okay, so I saw Dune Part 2 and it was so very good.

Though I definitely felt the amount of cuts that had to be made, and the way it was simplified in some cases (see Feyd Rautha's birthday duel and how the subtext of the man being specifically drugged with a delayed agent was cut, making the scene in some ways much more straightforward). I'll have to reread the book especially before I really cement my feelings about Lady Jessica and the sheer amount her story was cut (no mention of her being a supposed spy and all that and the changes from cutting her inner monologue).

Still what Villeneuve does he does spectacularly. The two things that stood out the most were a. the sense of scale and b. the scale of tragedy.

The shifting around of plot points worked a lot more for me than I feared. Though at first I was worried about Paul's pseudo-training montage, it actually worked really well. Cutting between Paul becoming a fighter and member of Sietch Tabr, falling in love with Chani, getting dreams, etc. and the politics and perspectives of the other, bigger and more politically aware players, was a really good idea.

It gives you really the sense of how big the world is. Of how much Paul is struggling under the weight of it. Of how small it is to be one person. It filled me with such a sense of dread and anguish, which is pretty impressive considering how the book has a lot more pages and a very distinct writing style that conveys this sense of scale. But the movie really went for it, and from the great to the small, there's a sense of importance.

I like that Villeneuve delayed Paul's change in perspective until after he drinks the waters. This really emphasizes the change within him, and really ups the tragedy of his character. Seeing him seemingly capitulate so readily after all the agonizing he went through, the desperate attempt to stem the tide of the war that has already begun and which began the moment he stepped foot on Arrakis, it was really heartbreaking. It also helped with Jessica's characterization. You get to see how drinking the waters utterly changes you. And how Paul has accepted his fate, while still bearing all the pain of doing so.

I struggle with how bleak Dune as a book series is in some place. The movie really does tap into that. It's a tragedy through and through and while you hope so desperately that something will change, you are so staggered by the scope and scale of this struggle. By the scale of agony that is going to be wreaked on the universe. It's really phenomenal.

[ginkgo-phyta]

Can I request Spencer (later seasons, post prison era) gifting his gf an initial necklace, but the pendant is his initial?

i.e.

"This is nice, Spence, but my name doesn't start with an 'S'."

"Yeah, but mine does, and you're mine."

Feel free to take it as far as you like 😏

A/N: ehehe yes ofc, i love thissss, but also a lil funny bc my name DOES start with an S :P so imma change the dialogue a bit. keepin dis sweet- there is a lil steamy moment for like two sentences however mostly this is fluff, hope you enjoy it, my love!

Fluff, no warnings (?), gender neutral language (im p sure, lemme know if i missed something!), 2.5k words

Spencer’s apartment is flooded with the music of joy; light jazz pours from an old style radio in the living room, your shared laughter tumbles into the rest of the place from the small kitchen, the sound of knives and forks scraping decorated ceramic plates signals the end of a well-enjoyed meal.

It was date-night for the two of you, a rare occurrence as of late due to Spencer’s teaching commitment. Initially, you were excited, thinking you would be getting more of him to yourself. You kept that thought to yourself, though, seeing how upset he initially was at not being able to help his team in the way he wanted to. That exhilaration was shut down particularly quickly as Spencer had begun bringing his work home with him. When he was working only as a profiler, sure he’d be away from you most of the time, but when he came home he’d spend all of his time present and in the moment. Now, at times, having him home almost felt worse than when he’d be away.

In the moment, however, everything was perfect. This is how you wished every night could be. The two of you bumping shoulders as you both prepare dinner; glasses of wine clinking with a cheers; old love songs serenading your flushed ears as Spencer pulls you into his arms to delicately waltz around the kitchen; his balmy eyes peering down into yours, speaking words of love and comfort. This serene feeling of domesticity was addicting. Life had been a whirlwind the past year, with it only being about six months since Spencer came home from prison. Things were jarringly different at first, both of your lives changing the way being wrongfully imprisoned changed Spencer, but you didn’t care. You could fight every battle life threw your way as long as your beautiful boy was by your side. Some days were more difficult than others, when Spencer would be reminded of the atrocities he witnessed in jail or what he had to do to survive. He’d isolate himself, snap at you, or push you away; but this evening was a good night- it almost felt like you had your old lover back.

“Dinner was delicious, angel.” Spencer beamed at you from the other side of his compact dining table, using his cloth napkin to wipe at the corners of his lips. 

“Well,” you chuckled, pushing out of your seat to collect both of your plates, “you helped me, that’s probably why.” 

Spencer quickly followed your movements, whisking the dishes out of your hands with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek before taking them to the sink. “It was all you, beautiful.” he had whispered against your skin while leaving your side. 

You silently shook your head, picking up your wine and water glasses to be washed. “Should I dry?” you questioned as he turned on the faucet, pulling a tea towel from the cabinet below you. 

Spencer shook his head, “It’s okay, they can air dry.” he spoke with a little shrug.

“Okay!” you responded bright-eyed, throwing the towel down onto the counter next to you, a bit too excited at the prospect of not doing anything. Your reaction peeled an infectious laugh from Spencer's beautifully cerise lips, his nose scrunching involuntarily. You could stand there and just watch him exist for the rest of eternity. 

And you did just that for a minute, took in the sight of him humming along to the jazz standard wafting in from the other room, engrossed in scrubbing the food stuck to the pans you cooked in. His jawline and upper-lip were shadowed in scruff, trailing down the sides of his Adam’s apple. His hair was long now, wavy and pushed back from his face, exposing his strong forehead and giving you unrestricted access to gaze into his gentle cinnamon eyes. The years passing changed his appearance in so many ways, and you loved every bit of it. Your eyes trailed down to graze over the top of his chest, exposed by the first few buttons of his deep cerulean shirt undone; they moved over the slopes of his broad shoulders, and down to his arms working steadfast to clean up the remnants of your meal. It didn’t escape Spencer how you were drinking him in without a care in the world, paying no mind to his elbow occasionally bumping into your torso.

“You having fun there?” he teased with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes never leaving the task at hand. His words spurred you forward. 

You simply hummed in response as you moved to stand behind him, your front pressing firmly into his back. Spencer’s eyebrow arched questioningly, but he kept his mouth shut, simply letting you do as you pleased. Your head peeked over one side of his arm, hands sliding down until they reached the cuff of his sleeve. Deftly, you began folding them up, “Just helpin you,” you mumbled as a throwaway explanation, moving to his other side to do the same. Fingernails scratched at his newly exposed forearms, your muffled giggle turning Spencer’s smirk into a wide grin. “Done!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his abdomen before nuzzling your face into his broad back. Over the barrier of fabric, the running water, and the sound of his scrubbing Spencer barely heard you ask, “Didn’t I help so much?”

His chuckle sent vibrations into your cheek, “Yes, honey, you were a big help. Thank you.” Content, you pushed your face further into his shirt. 

The two of you stood like that for a few more minutes, Spencer trying his best not to move too much in order to keep you comfortable. You haven’t back-hugged him like this since before he was framed, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until this moment. He washed the dishes a bit slower than normal, reveling in the heart-warming scene. Soon, however, he was done. 

As soon as he turned off the water, you were off him, moving to pick up the once-forgotten tea towel and face him, leaning against the edge of the sink. “Thank you for your service, soldier.” you unseriously saluted before taking each of his dripping hands in his and patting them dry. 

A titter broke through his smile as Spencer reverently gazed down at you, the way your eyes twinkled under the soft-yellow lights of his old kitchen, your beautiful hands turning his own over to attack any remaining droplets of water, your eyebrows twitching reflexively here and there in focus. The first time he laid eyes on you all those years ago he was shot in the heart by Cupid’s arrow, and it has stayed there, firm in place, ever since. 

As soon as you were done, Spencer softly cupped your face in his palms, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as he tilted your head up to look at him. He leaned down, pushing a passionate, yet gentle kiss onto your mouth. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away just enough to mumble, “I have something for you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you looked up at him in confusion as he pressed one more peck to your lips before moving into the other room, your hands chasing after him. Once his words processed in your brain you perked up, excitedly following behind him.

“You got me a gift?” You question, reaching where Spencer stood at the side table by the front door, right in front of the intricate, gold trimmed mirror you hung up just last week. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Spencer pick up the weekly newspaper, “Uh, you got me the…local paper?”

With a roll of his eyes, Spencer wordlessly pulled you to him by the waist, mimicking your earlier actions by pressing his front into your back. You stumbled a bit, catching yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your torso, holding you up, Spencer’s fingers digging into your waist. You peer at him curiously through the mirror before he whispers in your ear. 

“Look,” he motions down with his chin, and you do as you’re told. Spencer moves the haphazardly folded newspaper to the side, revealing a glimmering deep emerald velvet box. From the size of it, you could tell it was some jewelry other than a ring. You gasped in shock, not even having seen its contents. “Spencer…” your voice was meek and unbelieving. 

He watched you through the mirror, his cheek pressed against your temple as he opened the box before you. Your alluring eyes widened to their limits, hands flying up to cover your mouth. Your gaze whizzed to meet your lover in the reflection, “You got me a necklace??” your words dripped with incredulity. Spencer had gifted you generously in the past- rare books, handmade accessories, clothing you had your eye on, tickets to see your favorite artists live- but never before had he bought you jewelry. You never minded, content with wanting the first piece he gives you to be an engagement ring. That being said, this surprise moved you immensely. You took in the gorgeous necklace shining proudly up at you. A dainty chain in the metal you wore the most, in the middle sat a heart-shaped locket, no bigger than the tip of your pinky-finger. Before you could speak again, Spencer shifted to open the locket for you, revealing two pictures. One was older, taken at JJ’s wedding; Penelope had been going around taking photos of everyone and as soon as she neared the two of you, Spencer scooped you up into his arms as if you were the bride. The moment frozen in time showed you in the midst of a bellowing laugh, clutching to Spencer’s shoulders in shock, with your boyfriend looking upon you as if you were an angel incarnate, an equally wide smile plastered across his face. The second photo was more recent; you had invited the whole team out to a picnic brunch shortly after Spencer was released and this time Emily was the one taking candid photos. The two of you were cozying up at the edge of the yellow gingham blanket, Spencer's arms wrapped tightly around your figure rested between his legs. In the photo, his hand was cupping your jaw, tilting your face up to bring your lips close to his, the snapshot proudly showcasing his grinning mouth just centimeters from your own with the sunlight stretching out in the background. 

“Oh, Spencer,” you were at a loss of words, your fingers hesitantly tracing the silhouette of the pendant, “It’s so beautiful, my favorite pictures…” you murmured. 

Spencer hummed and nodded in response, setting the box down to take the necklace out of its confines. He straightened behind you, stretching the necklace out in front of your face, “Let me put it on you, baby.” he whispered, mouth barely moving. 

You happily obliged as he brought the chain closer to your neck, moving your hair to one side to better allow him to clasp it behind you. Spencer watched you the whole time through the mirror while your eyes were fixated on the necklace. The cold metal of the locket hitting your warm skin caused a minuscule gasp to part your plump lips, but Spencer noticed it all. The way your chest rose and fell faster, chasing after your quickened heart; the way you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth; your uncertain hands grasping at his trouser legs behind you. Once the chain was secured, the locket resting perfectly in the dip of your collar bones, Spencer placed soft, warm kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, holding eye contact with you with each; even as he moved your hair to dutifully pepper the other side. You sighed as his arms returned to engulf your waist, tighter than before, your hands moved to rest on top of his. He noticed your eyelids flutter close just for a moment, taking him in, before they opened again and your gaze shifted back down to the reflection of the necklace. Your eyes glinted with uncertainty upon noticing the engraving on the locket you hadn’t fully processed earlier. 

“‘S’...” you spoke, reading the letter dangling from your neck. You kept your inflection steady, trying to make it seem like you knew exactly what it stood for, but Spencer knew you better than that. Before you could make any assumptions, he spoke up.

“For ‘Spencer’.” he stated matter-of-factly, his face moving up from your shoulder to rest against your temple again. 

You smiled at him, more confused than before, “But aren’t you supposed to put my initials on it. You know, cuz it’s my necklace?”

“No,” he murmured sternly against your hair. Spencer’s left hand slipped down to grab onto your right hip, his right hand traveling up your sternum to thumb over the locket before splaying out to rest just below your throat, the heart pendant resting on the back of his hand.

Another, louder gasp sucked through your lips as Spencer tugged you closer to him, your back arched a bit as it stretched, bum pushing into his groin. 

“I put my initial,” he started again, heading dipping down to mouth against the shell of your ear, his eyes looking at you in the mirror through his cocoa lashes had you biting your lip, “Because you’re mine. And now everyone will know it.”

Suddenly, you whipped around in Spencer’s arms, throwing your own over and around his neck, hugging his body close to yours. He stumbled back a bit in shock, grabbing onto your lower back to steady himself before a laugh shook through his shoulders. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you enthusiastically repeated, pressing kisses along his stubbled jawline with every word. “I love it so much, Spencer.” you pulled back all the way to stare up at him, gaze filled with genuinity. One of your hands remained on the back of his neck, the other coming down to fiddle with the locket, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

His previously mischievous demeanor melted off his back as Spencer drank in how you dripped sweetness. “I’m so happy to hear you say that, honey.” His hands rubbed up and down your back. “I know things have been…complicated lately. I’ve been distant and cold, which I want to apologize for, but you’ve been beside me through it all. You’re my rock, and I just wanted to show you a bit of my gratitude.” 

You shook your head as you pushed up onto your tippy-toes to kiss him again, the hand on your locket moving to lightly scratch at the side of his neck.

“I’m all yours,” you muttered against his lips, tilting your head to the other side to slot yours upon them again. You pulled away after a couple seconds, “You don’t have to thank me, my love. I know you would do the same for me.” You pressed a few more kisses to Spencer’s supple lips before pulling back again, causing him to huff. “Are you mine?” you whisper.

Innocent doe-eyes coupled with a small pout had a quiet groan dragging from Spencer’s throat. He brought a hand up to trace your bottom lip with his thumb before tangling his fingers in your hair, 

“I’m yours, baby.” he nodded. “Only yours.” With that, he pulled you back in for a sensual kiss.

A/N: omg sorry if this sucks im so sleepy right nowwwww it took so long to write this for some reason i cant process words properly but i wanted to finish this! i loved writing this piece, and i hope y'all like reading it. ANON! how'd i do?

[chrisevansonly]

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬

ʚ harry styles x female reader

ʚ you know well enough no matter how hard you try, your daily walks in london with harry will never be private

ʚ slight angst but not really? protective H, but also some good ol sweetness

ʚ not requested, just felt like writing a little something and it’s pretty bad but idk🙃

The weather in London had been surprisingly nice so far for fall, the sun shining and gentle breeze filtering through the still changing leaves was enough of an incentive to get you and Harry out the door for your daily walk. Luckily not far was a fall market, so the plan was to grab your oat latte’s from your favourite cafe and head towards the vendors stands.

“You ready to go H?”

Your hands fixing your vest as it rested over your (harry’s) oversized sweater, opting to dress a bit more comfy and casual

“M’just grabbing my phone then i’m good”

Soon enough he wandered into the front entrance, sunglasses in hand, as he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips

“Ready”

“Shall we?”

Taking your hand he nodded, opening the door to your apartment and leading you out, making sure to lock the door before you both took off down the elevator and out onto the somewhat quiet streets of your neighbourhood. Thankfully you didn’t need to go towards super central London otherwise you’d have avoided the market all together.

“Seems quite quiet today don’t you think baby?”

Harry hummed

“A bit, but you know it’s never really quiet for us” his voice held an anxious undertone which made you frown

“I know, but i’m safe with you and we know what to do if it ever gets too crazy”

Three weeks prior the two of you had been caught downtown where it was way busier than expected and you ended up seeking refuge in a small boutique until Harry’s security team could show up, needless to say your boyfriend was not impressed and you stayed at home the next couple days afterwards.

“I’m still sorry for that”

A frown etched across your face once again

“My love you don’t need to apologize for something you have no control over…i’m safe, i’m not hurt and you aren’t either…I promise you do not need to apologize to me”

Even if you both were hesitant around pda, Harry leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, eliciting a happy sigh from you. The walk towards the market was nice, not many people, and when you arrived it wasn’t packed either.

“Oh H look they’ve got the chilli oil we’ve been trying to find”

Harry followed you towards the stand, eyes still scanning the area to make sure the two of you were okay

“Why don’t we get a few of them?”

You smiled

“Good idea!”

Paying the lady she bid you both goodbye as you kept wandering. A few people starting to notice Harry Styles was now walking amongst them, it wasn’t until you took his hand and squeezed it that he figured out you were starting to get uncomfortable.

“I think i’ve got everything,can we go?”

“Course we can”

His arm wound it’s way around your waist, tucking you into his side as you walked away from the farmers market, his fingers tapping your hip gently as a way to calm both himself and you down, both of you not a fan of the constant shadows that followed the two of you around. It wasn’t until a few voices begun to call his name that he stopped turning to face them

“Can you guys please not do that? It’s making my girlfriend and I uncomfortable.”

The two people with camera’s that had been following you stopped, both of them looked to be in their teens, it almost made you feel bad but at the end of the day, some people did forget Harry was human and wasn’t mean to be followed around like a lost dog.

“Oh sorry!”

“We didn’t mean too!”

Nodding he sent them a brief smile

“Thank you, enjoy your day.”

You smiled at the two teens as they walked away, obviously feeling bad for upsetting Harry

“You alright lovie?”

He nodded

“Yeah, just-I just hate that”

“I understand, we’re almost home and then it’ll be just the two of us”

He was more than happy to get home and cuddled up on the couch, the two of you going through another rerun of gossip girl as the weather begun to get colder. You’d bring down the fluffiest blankets and set up some snacks just to have a quiet afternoon which were always your favourites.

“I’m sorry about that again by the way”

“Not your fault baby, it happens, i’m used to it, and you always keep me safe so really, everything is okay”

Hearing confirmation was enough for Harry to press a kiss to your temple as you continued making your way home, excited to get out of the public eye and just enjoy some quality time away from the constant watching eyes.

[hooked-on-elvis]

ᴇʟᴠɪꜱ' ᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜰᴀꜱʜɪᴏɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ' ᴄᴏꜱᴛᴜᴍᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ

A personal Elvis touch to some of his characters's wardrobe.

Recently me and @jhoneybees were drooling over Elvis in Girls! Girls! Girls! (1962) and Fun In Acapulco (1963). I couldn't stop thinking about the backwards rolled up cuffs shirts that his characters wear in some scenes in both films because they look so good in him! Then I realized that Elvis used to wear his shirts just like this occasionally in the 1950s, before his Hollywood career had begun.

(2-3) Elvis on May 21, 1955 backstage at the Louisiana Hayride at the Municipal Auditorium in Shreveport, Louisiana. (4-6) January 25, 1955. Elvis Presley. Tyler, TX. backstage Mayfair building.

(7) Elvis in Graceland in 1960. Here Elvis' acting career was already happening but he hadn't used the rolled-backwards sleeve cuffs shirts in the movies just yet (at least that I remember of), but that's gonna change in a couple of years.

(8-10) Elvis as Ross Carpenter in Girls! Girls! Girls! (1962).

(11-13) Elvis as Mike Windgren in Fun In Acapulco (1963).

Looking at those pictures I can imagine that Elvis himself did some styling to his character's wardrobe occasionally, very seldom I think. However it doesn't stop at the early 60s films… I noticed that again in Charro! (1969).

(14-15) The King as Jess Wade, with his one of his signature looks, the high collars (the jacket just appears for a brief moment in the film but when I saw it I was like 'Oh, Elvis... anyone could recognize you just by looking at your back from miles away...'

It's not like we need any pictures to proof high-collars were his thing but it won't cause any harm too, so...

Cool, isn't it? But, wait a minute, there's more! The next one was prior to Charro!

Right now, I can't say that Elvis in fact had any say-so concerning his characters costumes but that's my assumption based on a little studying on his history and by watching his movies but another thing gave me the idea he could do something about his costumes for the films.

Sandi Miller (fan/gate girl) shared on her Facebook account that she and another fan gave Elvis a jacket in 1966 while Double Trouble (MGM, 1967) was in production. Principal filming for Elvis's twenty-fourth movie began on July 11, 1966 and was finished by August 30, 1966. After the movie was released, visiting the fans as usual, Elvis told Sandi to watch a specific scene in the film and there it was! He was wearing the jacket she gave him.

August 3rd, 1966. Elvis off to the studio to film 'Double Trouble'. Candids by fan Sandi Miller.

On the pictures above, Sandi (on her Facebook account) said: "Elvis on his way to the studio to film 'Double Trouble.' On his lap is a jacket we gave him purchased from St. James mens shop in Fullerton." Fan Kathryn Harper Sherrill then asked Sandi: "And didn't he tell you to watch closely part of that film & your jacket was used in a scene of the film when he was packing or unpacking?" For what Sandi replied: "Yes, he did!"

On that post Sandi doesn't specify which jacket it was, unfortunately, but I followed the hint and looked for a scene Elvis' character was packing in the film. The jacket Sandi Miller gave EP is most likely this one below. He's wearing it while he sings 'City By Night' and also 'Old MacDonald' in that portion of the film.

Wasn't it thoughtful of him to wear a jacket gifted to him by a fan in one of his films?

This is Elvis in 1966, returning or leaving his Hillcrest home in California, during the Double Trouble movie production period. The jacket looks like the same he wore in the film for those scenes I mentioned previously.

Conclusion: I guess it's safe to say that Elvis sometimes would style his costumes a little bit, putting something more of himself into his characters beyond the unmistakable charm, humor and talent. i don't know if that's a good thing to do because most actors' goals is to have a character that requires them to transform their image and behaviors to a point the characters don't resemble their off-screen personas in the slightest but, knowing how Elvis' movies were so… unusual… specially made to please Elvis' audience as they were (always craving for more) and how that caused the screenplays not to have real efforts put into that would give EP the need to really become someone else for his movies, it's not exactly wrong of him to incorporate his own persona (to a given extent) into the characters he played. All in all, I guess that makes his acting career even more unique. Elvis was not an ordinary artist after all. At times being that spectacular human being backfired, and Elvis just… went with the flow.

Those are just a few moments I noticed when Elvis' fashion style was lent to his on-screen characters. Have you noticed any other moments in the movies where this happens?

[habunshu]

Hello! Sorry to bother you.

I noticed you are in JTTW fandom and wanted to ask if you know where can I find more info on Sun Wukong's make up and stage performance? I tried to find stuff on my own but quickly realised that I'm just one small weak goblin. I saw some blogs about chinese opera behind the scenes with SW images and couple of videos but that's about it... and since you look like you are way more knowledgeable I came here to beg a favour.

Do you know any videos, documentaries or blogs on this topic?

Thank you for your time ♥♥♥

Hi!

TLDR: Bold text are writings/videos linked to Peking Opera Culture and specifics surrounding Monkey King performances. Post has a mid-length summary of key aspects of his Peking appearances and core thematics. This mainly goes along visual design analysis, as I don’t focus in performance art as much! Read more divide for courtesy

(Also taking a moment to highly praise @/bonesmarinated ‘s Peking opera Wukong pieces!)

The Monkey King/Sun Wukong is a very well covered and well performed character in Peking Opera, I’ll give a short(ish) summary of the key aspect of his design across various performances based on work I can recall from my Undergrad as well as my own experience- and i’ll link any documents/websites/images I have on hand

Wukong’s Lian Pu falls under what is known the Jing role (complex hero) with similar facial decoration also being delegated to the Chou roles in Opera as well.

The dominant school of art in depicting him either on live performers or maskwear, have a fairly universal foundation for his appearance.

The oldest forms of Peking opera stick to Wuseguan (Five Colour Theory) with his Lian Pu sticking to a core 3 of White (Cunning), Red (Bravery), and Black (Loyalty). Even with Modernisation of the Peking Opera and developments in the science behind art and makeup, Lianpu is specific in its purpose of portraying the nature of a character beyond body language and aiding in accessibility for people at the far end of the audience.

The Monkey King’s Lian Pu is reflective of his mischievous and bold nature, combining it with the shape of an Old World Monkey’s furless face shape so that even those “uneducated” in Peking Opera culture can at least see /what/ Wukong is before they see /who/ he is. The White and red placement are linked to yin-yang dynamics relating to the stone he was born from and the energy it cultivated) as well as general themes beyond the tale itself.

Zheng’s “Evolution, Symbolism, and Artistry: A Study on the Colors of Peking Opera Facial Makeup” Discusses this in more detail. ( DOI: 10.23977/artpl.2023.041207) (ISSN 2523-5877)

(General Mask colours in Peking Opera, separate from Lian Pu: The Cultural Connotation and Symbolic Meaning of Chinese Opera Mask Color - Hanbing Tu)

In more modern designs, the key foundation of Wukong’s face doesn’t change much, however some variations do add colour to Wukong’s eyelids- mainly pink or yellow/gold. Both of these relate physically to the ‘whites’ of Old World Monkey’s eyes, with the yellow face paint being representative of “barbarism” or “savagery”. Gold is used on the faces of various immortal creatures from all backgrounds as Silver is.

(Left: Chu Luhao as Monkey King, stedling divine peaches and wine in celestial realm, Kaohsiung ) (Right: Monkey King Wukong in Beijing Opera Journey to the West at Liyuan Theater)

As with Taiwans branch off in culture, This Lian Pu on the left shows the eyebrows as the top of the eyelid makeup, contrast to Chinese style and other Sino-influenced regions. This works in Chu Luhao’s production as it plays towards the character Wukong is before he’s sealed under the mountain and begun the journey- hence more “wide eyed”.

Mentioning Yellow within the Wuseguan, this is why most of his earlier outfits have such a heavy bias towards yellow cloth, barbarism being represented across his whole body (his form, as a monkey over his soul that achieves enlightenment) with costumes later down his hero’s journey adding more black, blue (simplicity).

(Left: Performer playing Monkey in Journey to the West, Chinese Opera performance in Singapore) (Middle: Chu Luhao’s production, Sun Wukong arrives at the Dragon Palace of the East Sea) (Right: CANTON, CHINA – CIRCA JULY 2019: Beijing Opera performance of “Monkey King Making Havoc in Heaven”)

Key Read -> The Artistic Symbolism of the Painted Faces in Chinese Opera: An Introduction, David Ming-Yüeh Liang. https://www.jstor.org/stable/43560653

Book -> Chinese opera: Images and stories, Peter Lovrick, Wang-Ngai Siu

Book -> Drama kings: Players and publics in the re-creation of Peking opera, 1870-1937, Joshua Goldstein. https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=XT_1fZ9Jp18C&oi=fnd&pg=PP1&dq=info:49R3XREYwVoJ:scholar.google.com/&ots=3OF1F4SILK&sig=gQyW7bGJzgnxG62Y2TxU01ZPazQ&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false

This analytical paper on Monkey King: Hero is Back showcases modern animated links to Peking Monkey King designs - https://fslmjournals.taylors.edu.my/wp-content/uploads/SEARCH/SEARCH-2024-16-1/SEARCH-2024-P5-16-1.pdf

A blog site I found interesting was an interview with Yao Yudong, the successor to colourful Peking Opera masks, where he discusses creating the mask designs (with a Wukong mask as a recorded example) and a more in-depth written post. He expresses the key two styles of Wukong’s red markings known as “Upside down Gourd” style, and the less complex “Upside down Peach” style attributed to a different art school. In which his mask is directly attributed to items that come into contact with his face.

Jiao Feng, Peking Opera Facial Makeup: The Art of Face Painting: http://www.chinatoday.com.cn/ctenglish/2018/ich/202001/t20200117_800190202.html

Connected is a video of an Opera performer who does his own Lian Pu, which depending on the time period could take up to two hours. Although this design is significantly more contemporary in the use of gold on white sections as markings like black paint. https://x.com/chinadaily/status/1365730927133958144?s=46&t=06bYiE12l6qVJUxPCBuvvQ

In regards to Wukong’s combat performances, he falls into the role of a Wusheng (武生), which is the strand of stage costume used in representation of his staple armour.

(Monkey King in Journey to the West Performance, Beijing Opera)

In this costume, Wukong’s Phoenix feather cap is mirrored by Lingzi (翎子) or Zhilling (雉翎), which likely play back and forth with influencing eachother as time progresses, due to Wukong’s theatrical personality being heightened by the Pheasant tails and their movements as actors play their roles. In his Wusheng roles, he is more likely to be adorned with gold eyelids to highlight his layered immortality and connect to the golden armour he wears. The trait of biting the pheasant tails as a theatrical act of frustration is seen across adaptations, most recently in Black Myth: Wukong’s Chapter 6 Animation.

This animation’s design seems to relay the Lingzi strongly due to the way the studio details the lowest connection points to the crown ornament.

As stated in Bond’s writings “BEIJING OPERA COSTUMES: THE VISUAL COMMUNICATION OF CHARACTER AND CULTURE”, Wukong’s in-game Suozi Set and various adaptations Dragon Palace armours split similarly to the Kao (Armour) on Peking stages, with the falling of the frantic drastically increasing the size of the actor and his silhouette.

Qing-era flags on the costumes of Wusheng were used to express social standing, gender, nature, and ranking. The image above showcasing them has them match the Kao pattern of the clothing, other flags often held zodiac patterns- with the monkey showcasing vain, egotistical, inventive and tricky individuals; and the peach included in a flag hinting towards immortality.

(Ching Dynasty Year of the Monkey Flag used in the Peking Opera) Zaricore Flag Collection: https://www.flagcollection.com/itemdetails.php?CollectionItem_ID=943

Due to the History of Lian Pu, and Wuseguan, despite modernisation of Opera arts vastly widening the colours and complexity of costumes; Wukong sticks to a key 5 colour scheme, with a emphasis on the original trio of red-white-black, and gold being reserved for Wusheng/Wuxiaosheng to showcase immortality and strength. The prevalence of Opera alongside fictional theatre means that the two constantly play off of eachother in mannerisms and influence, both at the time of JTTW’s writing to the 21st century. But as Opera is a physical performance, all aspects of Peking costume design is meant to make the emotional and psychological aspects of characters physical, to a large audience space needing to see facial expressions heightened and clarified by Lian Pu.

Read -> Cultural-based visual expression: emotional analysis of human face via Peking Opera Painted Faces (POPF)

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HOW I WOULD’VE WRITTEN YUKIMIYA AND KUNIGAMI

i made a silly post last night about something i would’ve done differently in the neo egoist league and it inspired me to finally make a proper post explaining how i, personally, would’ve written yukimiya and kunigami specifically, given that the both of them are currently suffering from benched-character-syndrome (that’s not a real thing, i just made it up, but i’m sure you all can figure out what it means)

disclaimer before i start: this is MY OPINION and just one way that things could be done differently — i’m not saying that this way is better or worse (on the whole i actually have been enjoying kaneshiro’s decisions so this is definitely not hate), it’s just a different perspective!! i will be cutting many characters in the course of this explanation, including some fan-favorites ones, but don’t take that personally, because for the most part, it doesn’t mean i hate them 😩 in fact i typically like most of them, this is just from a writing perspective ☝🏻

disclaimer two: i am not a professional writer or mangaka or anything — i’m literally typing this while eating a rice bowl at my kitchen counter!! so don’t expect peak fiction and DO expect plenty of typos…i also don’t know how the manga is going to go and this could be rendered completely obsolete (writing this as of chapter 276) in like an arc or so 😓 please don’t come in my notes and call me stupid or say i have zero reading comprehension or whatever other insult you feel inspired to come up with (i know some of y’all like to tussle 😰), put that energy into making your own post or ignoring me or whatever brings you peace and joy 🥰

OKAY now that that’s over with we can finally get started!! LMAO sorry for the lengthy disclaimers i’m scared of some people in fandom tbh because some of the notes i’ve seen on my mutuals’ posts/some of the fandoms i’ve been in in the past…anyways…

@sharkissm here’s the post i promised you!!

YUKIMIYA KENYU

poor yuki…he went from number 5 in blue lock to a literal random in bastard münchen?? okay maybe not quite RANDOM but he’s approaching that status 😓 it feels as though the character he was set up to become in the third selection and u20 arcs is not the same as the character he became in the NEL arc both in terms of worldview and play-style!! so to begin with, i’d make some heavy adjustments to his backstory in order to explain away some of those discrepancies in a more consistent manner

as we know, yuki had a pretty good childhood, all things considered — much more in line with the isagis of the world than, say, bachira, and not to mention kaiser. well, the first thing i’m going to do is take that away from him completely!! instead of having an idyllic childhood where he’s incredibly perfect, i want him to be from a “bad” area of japan. of course, both in real life and in blue lock, japan does not have any crazily horrible terrible areas, but all countries have their sketchier parts, and i want yukimiya to be born in one of those. he lives his childhood as an absolute MENACE and is the kid that adults hate to see coming. his parents work a lot, so as much as they love him and try to raise him as best as they can, they’re not there to correct him 100% of the time, so he kinda just runs roughshod and does whatever the hell he wants. in his light novel, it’s mentioned that he learns to play soccer with this old man and his dog, and i’m actually not going to take that aspect away from him completely because it’s cute, but i will change the context a bit; instead of it being a chance encounter, the old man actually seeks yukimiya out and asks to teach him soccer. maybe his son went down a similar path that yukimiya has begun down and while he can no longer save his son, he at least wants to help yuki out and channel his energy into something more productive, hence soccer!!

after learning soccer from the old man and his dog, yukimiya begins to play it on the streets with some of the other local kids (who are just glad he’s not being a bully anymore and are happy to play along) which is the beginning of the development of his street-style dribbling (in reference to that majestic ass panel of him in the u20 game that was like hardly ever referenced again) as well as his dominance as the one-on-one king. he’s basically undefeatable, and this leads to something of a superiority complex in that he is firmly convinced that he is the protagonist, he is the one that the universe favors, and he absolutely cannot and will not lose and nothing bad can ever happen to him. he continues to be an asshole in general and is still the kind of guy that your parents would tell you to stay the hell away from, however!!

things change when his eyesight starts deteriorating. he goes to the doctor, and that’s when it’s revealed that he has this eye disease (is it even named in canon?? idk i’m just going to call it eye disease) and he might eventually go blind. that night when he leaves the doctor, it’s pretty much in despair, because soccer is the only thing that makes him happy given how miserable his surroundings are (again, there’s obviously many countries and places that have it way worse, but for young yukimiya who is comparing it to the rest of japan, it’s not that great) and he feels like he’ll now be stuck in the same cycle that his parents are caught in. on the way home, he sees one of those religious billboards that’s all like “god will always forgive you” and since he’s at one of the lowest points of his life thus far, he decides that he’s going to become religious because this blindness/disease must be a punishment from god for the things he’s done.

soon after, he’s walking home from school or something random (this is meant to be an extreme coincidence given the situation) and is scouted to be a model. this reaffirms his conviction that his conduct thus far is wrong and that if he ever wants to escape and live the good life that he dreams of, he has to abide by god’s rules and follow his ways. he gets into modeling and makes enough money that he and his family can move to a better part of the country, where he begins to play soccer for his new high school and is quickly recognized for his skill/talent. through this process, he learns how to be incredibly polite, kind, and altruistic, because he’s already been “punished” once and doesn’t want to face it again…he also wants to prove that he is better now and deserves this new life of his as much as if he had born to it + he doesn’t ever want to go back to where he used to be!!

what this backstory change accomplishes: it explains the street soccer panel in a more satisfying way, and it also gives a reason for why yuki is so kind in the 3rd selection/u-20 match and then suddenly becomes incredibly selfish in the NEL — instead of it just being explained away as ego, it shows how blue lock manages to draw out the worst aspects of one’s personality via competition, because yukimiya, who has worked so hard to be good and kind, reverts to his childhood personality almost instantly under isagi’s pressure!! it also explains why yuki’s so quick to just go back to being chill, as he probably feels guilty that he let himself slip like that and doubles down on being a “good person”

now as for the actual games this is where i think i will make the most people mad BUT i would’ve gotten rid of kurona and had yukimiya replace him!! to be honest as much as i do like kurona, he was very very randomly dropped in (i literally thought i had missed the manga panel introducing him because his actual first speaking appearance was so out of the blue) and there were already established characters that could’ve taken that role (ex. yukimiya). i would’ve sent kurona (and honestly probably kiyora) over to barcha because they likely would’ve gotten along well with bachira and otoya plus their passing skills could’ve made barcha a stronger team!! this also serves to isolate isagi more and gives him literally no one but hiori on his side — in this scenario, i want yukimiya to be SO altruistic (as per the backstory change) that he will pass to anyone, just as long as that’s what’s best for the team (the “greater good”). if yukimiya stays the 1v1 emperor, this also adds another dynamic to the kaisagi rivalry as well as possibly adding a ness vs hiori dynamic because that would mean that more often than not, yukimiya would have the ball, and he’s the one who they will rely on to break through the defense before passing to one of the other midfielders (ness, hiori) or going straight to one of the strikers (kaiser, isagi) (yes i know there’s only one striker on a team but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). this version of yukimiya could also have a very interesting dynamic with kaiser as both of them come from somewhat similar backgrounds (obviously kaiser is worse but there are similarities) however kaiser forsakes everyone in order to view himself as a god, or god’s chosen one, whereas yukimiya once believed himself to be that but has now forsaken that aspect of his ego in order to place his beliefs in others and in a higher being. this means kaiser could also be a method of awakening yukimiya (giving him interactions with more of the team than just isagi) where his selfishness makes yukimiya realize that if he wants to survive and continue dominating on the field as the 1v1 emperor, he also has to be a little more selfish (a leader instead of just a follower), allowing him to settle into a blend of his new personality and his childhood one, where he’s still kind and agreeable but also a little bossy and much more assertive/willing to score his own goals even if it’s not necessarily for the greater good 100% of the time

what this new role accomplishes: it allows yukimiya to have much MUCH more play time as he deserves given the hype built up for him during the third selection (he was ranked higher than NAGI, which yes it was in the second selection but second selection nagi was a beast so that says something about yuki for sure [as well as karasu and otoya but we’re not talking about them atm]), it gives us a smaller cast to work with on bm (because at the moment there are just too many blue lockers getting random backstories and doing one thing in a game before ghosting and honestly if all of their individual contributions were consolidated into one character, in this case yukimiya, it would make that one character much stronger as well as taking away the plotsagi accusations as now isagi isn’t the only one consistently doing things in games) and allows us to get much more attached/involved with the stakes of the games, and it gives kaiser dynamics with the rest of bastard münchen instead of just isagi, which fleshes him out a bit more as well

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

i’m sure this is what most of you are reading for (although i hope you went through the yukimiya part and enjoyed it as well!!) and trust i have come to deliver because i have many thoughts about kunigami…my biggest gripe is that his return from the wildcard was so built up and then the narrative treated it as so utterly unimportant (why do literally none of the characters gaf??? like there were a couple of panels touching on it but nowhere near the significance it shoudl’ve been given) that the readers themselves have zero stakes in it!! like if isagi, who considered kunigami a fairly good friend as far as blue lock goes, barely questions why his friend is so different now, then why should we as readers care either?? now, if/when the wildcard reveals are done, they will MOST LIKELY not have the same impact that they could’ve if kunigami as a character was treated differently in the narrative (again, maybe this will change and there will be something that makes the punch of it still hit just as hard, but as of the moment i’m writing this post, i don’t feel that that will happen)

there’s two routes that i could see kunigami taking, and both of them involve kicking out some fan favorite characters (again) but in the first case it’s only temporary!! i’ll go through the first one and then the second one and cover my ears as the bm fans yell at me for axing kaiser and ness

that’s right, route one involves getting rid of kaiser and (most likely) ness entirely!! i am actually of the firm belief that the ng11s (specifically kaiser and lorenzo) were introduced too early. people legitimately think lorenzo is a bad player just because ubers lost vs bm even though kaiser himself had difficulties when lorenzo was covering him…in my opinion the ng11s should’ve been kept as a mysterious entity whose only representative we see is sae itoshi (for narrative reasons) until the u-20 world cup, where ng11s randomly show up in some of the matches to raise the stakes and allow individual blue lockers to confront their demons/weakness and develop further (for example, in a game against, say, the italian u-20 team, maybe shidou learns how to break through a defensive set up with lorenzo at the center?? and that particular match is the ‘shidou match’ random example because idek if shidou’s built like that but you get the gist). i honestly don’t even mind kaiser being there as much because at least he’s doing stuff and still feels like he’s on another level but lorenzo shouldn’t have been shown until later — anything he does, aiku could’ve accomplished and that also would’ve built the rivalry between him and barou that was hinted at in barou’s ln…but anyways my thoughts on aiku can be a separate post because i have digressed!! back to kunigami

in this version, i want him to be isagi’s main rival instead of kaiser, who’s not here at all. make his new ego so obsessed with scoring goals that he cannot fathom anyone else doing it. whatever wildcard did fucked him up so badly that he is absolutely TERRIFIED of returning, so even if it makes the team lose, even if it makes him an asshole, he will do anything to score and prove himself as “useful” to the team so that, even in the worst-case scenario, he’s the one being chosen instead of anyone else (the way reo was chosen over him). this also creates a much deeper rivalry than just “who gets to be the star of the team” as it’s rooted in kunigami’s insecurity and fear of wtvr the fuck was going on in wildcard. this also builds wildcard up as something much more terrifying than it has been so far in canon, because when you think about it it MUST have been horrible and that’s gone somewhat unacknowledged except for brief hints and glimpses, and it also adds a legal/moral/ethical dilemma — because obviously wildcard WORKS, kunigami is the proof of it (as isagi’s main rival, he’s scoring all of the goals that kaiser did, so he’s obviously eating it up), but is it sustainable?? is it something that they can do en masse?? because there’s no question that it’s destroyed kunigami completely, so is it even worth it?? or is it one of those things that you think is worth it when you start (the way kunigami must’ve) but afterwards you regret entirely??

however, given the importance that kaiser has to the NEL (he’s kind of the face of it to be honest), as well as how many fans he has, i can totally understand leaving him in, so i have another option, which i also really like. in this route, i want to use kunigami to replace ness — which doesn’t make sense at first i know but hear me out!! ness hasn’t contributed enough to the plot (besides his dynamic w kaiser ig) for me to feel bad about kicking him out honestly and that’s one less character on the main cast that we have to care about, allowing for more depth to the characters that DO exist. in this scenario, kaiser’s in a loki-esque situation, where all he needs to get that coveted re al offer is someone with the crazy strength to push through players like lorenzo (we’ve seen kaiser struggling with defense before, and as barou says in second selection, kunigami has the build to hold the ball up at the top of the field)…enter kunigami, who’s very obviously a prime candidate for this, and kaiser POUNCES!! he thinks he’s going to have to convince kuni to take his side instead of isagi’s, but surprisingly, kunigami very readily agrees to it. this is because in this route, kunigami resents the blue lockers, including isagi, because while he was effectively being tortured, they were being lauded with praise and shown on live tv as celebrities and whatnot. they never suffered in the way he did, and although he does believe that wildcard was necessary for him to evolve (not a healthy mindset but the one drilled into him), he still wishes the rest had endured what he did, because it scarred him so much that he almost cannot handle knowing that he went through it alone while the others were enjoying themselves (comparatively)?? so he teams up with kaiser and is actively working against his old friends (for maximum effect add in reminders/callbacks to the team z days to give extra angst to the “betrayal”)…it would also be very fun to juxtapose kunigami’s and kaiser’s backstories here, as kunigami had a good life that was ruined by soccer, whereas kaiser had a shitty life that was saved by soccer, and this could definitely come through in their particular brands of desperation while playing!!

now, there’s plenty of theories floating around that ness will assist isagi in scoring the final point against pxg (now that IGAGURI is in for some reason idk if that’s still a likely outcome but i can def see it happening) however my counter-point is don’t have kunigami assist isagi with the two-gun volley…give that to yukimiya (given he’s a character like i outlined previously) or even hiori, and instead have kunigami pay isagi back for the half of the steak (therefore acknowledging their past and old friendship for the first time since his return) by passing him the ball instead of kaiser, the way everyone expected/was covering for. this allows isagi to still score the final goal against pxg while giving it more of an emotional meaning than just “oh isagi has to win because he’s the main character”

alternatively, if pxg is meant to win, then i would leave the two-gun volley as it is, but i would just make it so that the setup is still kunigami choosing isagi over kaiser and acknowledging their old friendship, and i would make a bigger deal out of the pass since the build up is different!! i also wouldn’t have noa tell kunigami to manmark shidou the entire time…instead i would make kunigami obsessed with shidou in the BEGINNING of the game, but i would have kaiser/isagi/noel noa yell at him for this obsession and remind him that the objective is winning, not revenge, so he’s still active in the game instead of just being stuck on babysitting shidou duty (this role could be given to yukimiya actually, again given that he’s written as i stated previously, as he’s the 1v1 emperor so he has enough of the physicality to accomplish that and keep the ball away from shidou if it gets near him, and he’s already done enough in the previous games that it’s alright for him to take a bit more of a backseat especially after two-gun volley)

as a footnote, EITHER route you like, there’s one thing that was absolutely a missed opportunity which i’d like to focus on, and that’s kunigami’s dynamic with noel noa. it’s not a secret that kunigami’s supposed to be a copy of noel noa, but what does noa think of this?? i need their dynamic to be weird and fucked up…like he’s noa’s protege, as he’s meant to be a copy of the man, but noa is simultaneously absolutely disgusted by ego, becuase what do you mean his old rival who faded into obscurity has suddenly returned with this child whose body and life and future he completely ruined, whose mental state is absolutely destroyed, just so that he could finally “beat” noa?? just so that he could make a copy of the man that he could never actually be himself?? and this disgust with ego transfers to noa also almost shunning kuni and avoiding him when possibly/treating him way more strictly than he does the others…which only makes kunigami try to work ten times as hard to prove himself…but this only freaks noa out more and it’s just a vicious cycle LSKDFJHSLK

ANYWAYS so this was a crazy long post but it’s really not meant to be taken all too seriously!! like i said these are just musings about how two characters that i personally like could’ve been used differently 🤩 if you read all of this then you’re a goat fr and feel free to talk to me about blue lock/anything else at any time!!

what was that youtube ass outro

[butterfliesornauseous]

“And I’m sorry”

(500 special 5/5 with just many months later)

Fun fact, I originally started this blog with the intention of being an oc sickfic writer and originally was posting prompts to start getting my name out there and get more comfortable before I posted fics, but I only posted one actual fic and took it down because I still didn’t like my writing and became way more comfortable with prompts and had a lot of fun with them, I think for the final part of my late special I’m ready to bring River and Milo back so here’s them early in their relationship :)

Warning for Emeto, stomach noises, awkwardness, food mention, embarrassment ,reason of illness is in tags for spoilers,

**both characters have also had past ed’s it’s only very lightly touched on and not out right stated, but it’s still hinted at so trigger warning in case**

(Also my sickfic style is way different to my prompt and a and b stories, so I hope the change up is all right and still okay to read:))

Something had quivered inside River’s stomach. A gentle wave of butterflies fluttered in his gut, dancing to the pattern of his fingers drumming softly against the velvet table cloth while he waited. The cosy little restaurant wasn’t exactly buzzed with life tonight but Milo, the bleached blonde he adored was nowhere to be seen.

The air was bursting with spices and sauces scents that would bring a hungry growl out of any stomach yet for River’s own it tugged him deeper into his nervous daze.

River had thought ‘where is he?’ A couple of times now, each time caused a new picture such as the possibility that Milo was probably triple checking his outfit or had begun to fret over his hair as always, or he lost his wallet again, to enter his mind. Each tugged at River’s lips in a way that made his body’s inside feel that much more warmer and mushy.

Realistically he knew it was sort of his own fault that he had been waiting a while for his date. He arrived at the restaurant early just so he could work on taming his need to fidget every few seconds so hopefully he could prevent his hands shaking and his voice rising to a higher octave all night. The issue however, was his brain constantly turned back to giddy thoughts about how he was finally going out with his best friend.

It was the acknowledgement of the butterflies that increased how intense everything felt, and he shifted in his seat as one of his hands came up to play with the thick choker around his neck.

The sound of a squeak being across the table brought River out of his thoughts and grounded him fully into reality with a delicate but rushed voice spoke.

“I’m so so so sorry for being late!”

There he was, Milo bobbing his head in multiple short paced bows that caused his small half up ponytail to bop with him. Milo paused for a second looking at River siting and then quickly sat down himself, tightening his ponytail in the process and tucking his fringe behind his ears. “Sorry…. You look really nice River.”

River’s voice blurted out a fast “Thanks. “

Taking a moment to force himself to breathe he added “Nono it’s not an issue at all." His hands shook for emphasis.

He wanted to choose one of the million compliments swimming through his head, but his voice had died on him ending its permission for him to say nothing more than a “You too.”

‘Get a grip you’re making yourself worse’ River mentally sighed. He would rather not have the butterflies turn into anxious queasiness or possibly even make it to the point where he loses his lunch and possibly forever scars Milo’s memory of him and first dates forever.

Milo stated to apologise again. “I’m so sorry, see one of my friends borrows my charger which was cool dude but then my phone was flat, and I needed to get an Uber because my car is in the shop and I-“

“You’re rambling.”

‘Cute’

There was something about the way Milo had been trying to say so much in one go. The informality in his tone and red in his cheeks eased River’s mind and a just tiny bit of the pressure in his belly.

Milo’s mouth gaped somewhat before another “Sorry.”

River himself can’t really talk on repeated unnecessary apologies, he’s always the first to apologise for everything, still he found a light smile on his lips as he replied “You don’t have to keep saying sorry for everything.”

If he was a bolder person, he would have taken Milo’s hands, kissed them and spoken that the blonde is adorable. That he should stop fretting over everything because he’s just River and River isn’t someone worth getting this flustered for. Yet another squirm in the pit of his stomach made just a small noise come out his throat.

The silence that followed for a beat was broken by Milo deciding to speak first. “Sooo…” he glanced around the room and settled on picking the menu up, “have you seen anything you like yet?” His tone was bashful, spoken in a slightly quieter than previously.

‘He must think I’m weird damn it’

River shrugged. “Not really I honestly kinda of just sat here.” He picked the menu up himself not really reading it. The restaurant's ambience was the only thing heard between them again with the only lick of comfort being they were both together yet at the same time the tension was created because of the fact they were both here together.

“Look I’m going to be completely honest,” Milo folded his menu down so he could gaze at River. “I’m so nervous that I apologise if this is awkward.”

River wasn’t sure if it was Milo would want to hear if he even wants any validation at all but River felt the tension leave his body.

“Oh god I’m sorta glad, I’ve been sitting here for the last couple of minutes thinking I’m so awkward you must find me weird.”

A laugh bubbled from Milo’s mouth, the type of laugh that bounced off the walls and melted into River’s ears. It was enough to pull River into Milo’s spell and make him turn into a love drunk fool who lost control of his brain before he could stop the spill of him finally being able to say longer unfiltered sentences.

“To think we have known each other for so long, and yet I can’t form words right to explain how happy I am that we are out together, You know nine-year-old me with have been stoked to hear he’s on a date with you.”

Milo’s eyes went wide. “R-really?”

“You’re surprised?”

“Mean… Well… I’m not going to lie about it, when we used to hold hands it did make me feel weird things in my tummy and I would be disappointed when you would let go but…” Milo this time gently pulled his fringe back away from his ears.

The pound in River’s heart had stopped for a second like it needed to get ready to speed up after. ‘Milo liked me back as a kid?’

“That sounds like a crush Milo.”

“It so is not, perhaps it was a small infatuation with you but not a crush-” he watched as Milo’s face twisted with a cringe at his wording then it changed to him laughing. If only Milo had known that his laughter was causing all those silly sensations in Rivers stomach to feel like permanent function of his body.

This is all River wanted for Milo. For him to feel free with him and loosen up like this, he would do anything to keep Milo feeling comfortable. But it was a big step tonight for the both of them, outside the first fire date context and River said the first thing that he could think of in hope of continuing the night go be easy for them.

“Want to maybe spilt a dish, would that be easier for you?” That would be easier for River.

Milo’s expression changed first to a look similar to suspicion which morphed into relief. “Actually that would kinda would be nice.” His eyes held a small twinkle of relief. “Uhh what about the carbonara… maybe?” Milo held up the menu, this being the first time River truly held interest for anything on it.

“I think it sounds good too.” River nodded. He bit back his tongue for a moment to make sure his tone conveyed he’s asking this for Milo’s sake and not as a disguise for his own issues. “Are you sure you are okay with this?”

River’s hands were pulled away from his own menu, the softness of Milo’s warm skin leaked into his own as Milo intertwined their fingers tightly. Milo looked to the side as his voice sweetened into fondness “I feel comfortable eating in front of you River.” He squeezed River’s hands. Meeting river’s gaze again.

That meant a lot to him, more than Milo would ever know.

“Milo… I… I do too.”

—————————-

They both put their fork down at the same moment. Milo leaned back into the chair and River hunched. The carbonara was heavier than River expected, a taste different from what he was used to. It sat heavy in his stomach, getting ready for when ever his stomach decided to attempt to digest the rich sauces.

“Good?” Milo asked with a some hesitance as he leaned back up as he patted the top of his tummy while Milo tried to loosen his choker.

River nodded. “Yeah……Good….” No not really, it’s not a taste River was used to, a little on the stranger and chewy side but it was his first time trying this restaurant. Who is he to judge how different places cook their food.

It probably took them over an hour to finish their one shared carbonara from River being a slower eater. A normal eating speed was something River could never let himself do in front of others. His insecurities had attacked him the whole night that he would be judged if he did so and through our the years he had learnt Milo is the type to try to match the pace of who he is eating with.

A gurgle had been brewing in his stomach. He felt his belly tense before he heard a sludgy type of sound emit from him as his stomach went loose again. Milo was sitting slightly slouched over with his thumb circled under his chin with the rest of his fingers in front of his mouth with no reaction of hearing anything when River hastily glanced up to him.

He squirmed involuntarily. Ages ago the flutters finally shooed off only for them to slowly creep back into his now packed stomach, raging back to full life.

It took a strong movement inside him for him to put a hand to his stomach. He hadn’t noticed he was a beginning to bloat until his felt the strain against his pants.

Under his hand he was painfully aware now of how thick the sauces and pasta were mixing up under his skin like small bubbles of unease were popping around the sitting food.

Across to him, Milo blew through his lips and River sat up. “Sorry did you say something?” River’s voice came out shaky, he mentally blamed it on a mix of embarrassment and the chill growing in the late night.

“…. No….did you want me to say something?” River shook his head at Milo’s prompt. He knew the blonde also probably needed a minute to let his tummy prepare to digest as well. He would hate to force Milo to get an upset stomach for him.

Quietness retuned between them, the lack of sounds from the boys forced River to gain more consciousness over the expanding trouble in his belly, which had begun pushing a bit more out.

He took a deeper breath, holding it for three seconds to placate his urge to rub his tummy or do anything else to ease any of the pressure swelling. River allowed himself to close his mouth and squeeze his throat muscles to compel a small quiet burp that he breathed out his nose but stopped at just one with how much it tasted like their dinner but warmer.

The gurgling in his stomach wasn’t held back from it. They were gurgles that ranged from higher sounding foaming noises that fell down to deeper small rumbles that had him sure Milo must be hearing something from the orchestra.

River didn’t feel it but a sudden curdle noise that got higher until it broke into a grumble issued itself, and he cringed. His eyes shut at the loudness yet once he opened them he saw his date blushing a pretty red. “S-sorry, I’m digesting loudly.”

Similar to earlier Milo bowed his head again before his grabbed his tummy when a wetter noise rose from him. “I think it might do that all night-uh that’s so embarrassing.” Milo grimed as he rubbed his hand under his ribs with a small “shhh please.”

He wished he had the confidence to tell Milo it was okay and that his own gut had been churning up a quiet storm for a bit now and Milo’s reaction was cute, but his energy had started to drop the more his meal sat. “It’s no….problem.”

Milo seemed like he was to add something else but instead settled on reaching for his drink when his hand nearly hit it over. In response River jumped forward to grip Milo's wrist, noticing the faint shake and sweat to his hand. Both locked their eyes at the same time.

“Am I allowed to apologise again?”

River hesitated then nodded.

“I kinda of use all my elegance up at dance” Milo said flustered boarding on embarrassed. They took a second longer of River holding Milo before pulling away from each other.

“I think… I think it’s our time to go. River muttered as he realised a couple waiters were staring at them. “We have been here for a while.”

“I-yeah…”

————————————

The bright night sky outside the restaurant grew cooler as the stars became more clear while they walked on the sidewalk. River pulled his jacket closer to his body.

“You don’t have to walk me to the train station…. But I do really appreciate it Milo.”

Milo seemed almost untouched by the cold, even undo doing his top buttons on his blouse. Under the faint street lights, Milo actually looked even a tad sweaty.

“What type of….date am I if I let you walk home by yourself?” He faulted in the middle, sounding unsure of his choice of words.

River offered a hum. His response was more pained than he intended to sound. His focus wasn’t cooperating with him anymore, it being hard to concentrate when the feeling of bubbling in his belly felt like it could have bubbled up at any moment. ‘Of course you let your nerves get to the point of nausea’ Heat pooled in his cheeks.

Milo sighed and all that followed was the sound of their matching footsteps, the new silence that fell between them

Was no saint to be kind enough to mask the occasional boil inside Milo’s stomach that River was too kind to point out.

He did however take notice of the sounds coming from Milo had started to turn into a more constant watery burble compared to earlier’s growls. Again that wish of courage to reassure Milo he also was going through his own embarrassing gut issues, layered guilt inside the uncomfortableness under his clothes that had become completely tight.

River wanted to be polite. On a normal night he would have wanted to spend as much time as possible with Milo but in his stomach he knew deep down he couldn’t handle that much longer with him.

Saliva invaded his mouth, coating his tongue in the taste of carbonara, he shakily uttered, “Y-you really don’t have to stay, it’s-…. It’s cold out here, I don’t mind if you go.”

The ‘O’ movement made a burp escape his throat. Another one followed a little louder with a spin that was a little sour. “I’m so sorry.” River’s hand went up to cover his mouth “I’m so sorry” the other went to his stomach.

It was that feeling in his stomach that happened every time something went wrong. A deep tug that stirred deep within him before it gurgled up his throat and slipped through his fingers onto the pavement.

River gagged again, the warm liquid felt like it could rival the heat that flamed his cheeks as Milo gasped and made a strangled noise. His body stopped anymore coming up but at the cost he became locked up in complete embarrassment and worst was his gut was still heavily sloshing, still full of bile that desired to make another appearance.

‘You are so disgusting River.’ He could have died on the spot, and he would never be more thankful, his nose and throat burnt, his head was fuzzy, and his eyes went watery. Milo must have been so disgusted with him.

“C-can I touch you?”

River eyes shut tight. His mind fell blank as to why Milo could ever want to touch him after losing his dinner, his heart beat fast like it’s expecting Mill to push him over.

Though all he felt was Milo’s fingers on the chain of his choker loosing it and with care, pulling it off his neck. His whole body relaxed, un restricted now, he managed to straighten up.

He wiped his mouth and finally turned to face Milo. His mind span trying to form another apology but… Milo was trembling. The street light above revealed his pale face and-

“Sorry” Milo said before he pitched forward himself, gagging only once before pasta spilt out of his lips.

Oh, this wasn’t just a nervous stomach anymore….

River had chosen the meal that they shared and “I’m sorry” is all he could say before patting a hand on Milo’s back, he then leaned forward himself with another heave.

[furrytalebeard]

Mike and pops

Right where did we leave off. Well my former athletic brother was a bumbling adult baby and my dad who was a rough basketball coach was now my boyfriend. My dad also switched careers somewhere along the reality shifts to being a professor, probably to help with the fact my brother now has low intelligence and no athletic skills.

At first it was weird having a now sort of nerdy father but what was more weird was after switching his expectations for me to love, he was completely infatuated with me. It was great before this my brother got all the love, of course he still got attention being a pants pooper but my father swooned over me. I’d started calling him Travis, his first name as we were more like boyfriends now if anything.

Travis walked into the room and saw me and smiled, opening his arms for a hug. "If it isn’t my beautiful boyfriend and son Mike. He said as I shyly hugged him, feeling his large round belly. It was still awkward being doted on so much, something I wasn’t used to. One thing I noticed ever since my dad switched to being a professor is that he hardly had time to workout and he was only getting larger. Before this he had sort of a muscle gut, and would workout with Joel. Now when he wasn’t teaching he was changing diapers or giving private lessons. I wanted to make a switch, see if I could speedrun his own gains. I switched out the traits of fat, with muscular I watched as his suit began to become loose as his muscles bulged out.

For a moment he was stunned before he grabbed me and pulled me into another much more forceful hug. "Sorry son just really felt like squeezing you, hehe" he said as I got a face full of his hard abs. In an instant I regretted my decision, his fat belly felt much nicer and now it was like hugging a body builder over my fat attractive dad. The problem was I couldn’t easily override changes I’d just made so I’d have to swap out other traits to get the desired results. I figured reality might shift in my favor if I made my dad a bit lazier. So I switched out his traits of hard working, with laziness. Instantly my father’s weight began to return to match this change in traits, even his sense of style began to vanish. I watched as my father went from stunned to letting out a huge fart then patting his big belly. "Gyhahaha that was a big one. Imma go sit my feet up honey, why don’t you go check on your brother."

I hadn’t noticed it but as I walked to check on Joel the light in my amulet began to dim. Joel had really begun to embrace his role as my "little" brother . He was playing games, of course the only games he could play were those meant for young kids. I could tell he needed a change from the way his onesie sagged in the back and the faint smell but I didn’t feel like it so I let him sit in it.

“I’m tryna play games! Don’t bother me go let dad kiss you or something!” He took his pacifier out to say and pouted.

“Whatever little bro.” I said annoyed. I went back to find my dad with his feet up on the coffee table watching tv with a beer in hand.

"there you are son URRP." my dad said motioning for me to come give him a hug and a kiss. "Come give me some sugar then get started on dinner, pops is hungry"

I kissed him then groaned as he burped in my face, I got back his belly but I wasn’t a fan of his lazy attitude. I’d need to make another change. I looked to my amulet and noticed its regular glow had dimmed, when I tried to make a change nothing happened. Drat, I’d have to wait for it to recharge meaning my dad was stuck like this.

For the next couple of days my dad would get home from work and toss of his work clothes in exchange for an unwashed wife beater. He’d then kick up on the couch and drink beer, leaving me to cook in clean. I also had to take over the responsibilities of taking care of Joel which was smelly and unfun. At the end of the day my dad would get into our bed and fart up a storm, laughing and saying it was part of being old. The only solace I had was that when he wasn’t being a lazy slob he was great in bed if you know what I mean. Basically things were sorta a mess but I could tell the amulet was slowly regaining power, so I left it in my drawer to gain continue charging.

———

end note:

hope you guys enjoyed the sequel to my last story if you guys are enjoying it leave a comment, let me know if you have any story ideas. What would you like to see next, maybe a part 3?

should Mike continue to use the amulet or maybe his dad Travis will find it. Or perhaps even Joel could find it and get his revenge? Lemme know!!!

[boosbabycakes28]

Master Fic Post

On shots :

Welcome To Scotland: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 4,739 Words – Explicit - Established relationship

Harry gets hit in the balls by a flying shoe during one of the shows of the Take Me Home Tour in Scotland. Louis seems to not give a damn and Harry is ready to make him pay. Or at least he tries ... 

You Are My Dancing Queen: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 4,857 Words – Explicit - Established relationship

Harry is anxious about shooting his new music video, so he asks Louis to help him, as he wants to do a last minute rehearsal at home before the big day!! 

Under The Paris Sky: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 7,411 Words – Teen - Strangers to lovers

Louis is a fashion influencer on his first trip to Paris. He is excited to discover the city and take pictures and videos of his wonderful outfits, and he expects to be amazed by the City Of Lights. What he doesn't expect, is to bump into a gorgeous man who could possibly change all his plans. 

Summer Sun, Something's Begun: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 15,921 Words – Explicit - Strangers to lovers (written for the @hlsummerfest2021)

The boys all have summer jobs at the local waterpark. Harry works at one of the ice cream stands and can’t keep his eyes off of the hot lifeguard who is stationed at the pool nearest to him. 

Love In Slow Motion: Harry Syles/Louis Tomlinson – 17,859 Words – Explicit - Established relationship (written for the @hlroyaltyfest)

Louis is the crown prince of England, Harry is a mega star, and they have to fight all the hardships their position faces them with but in the end, love conquers all. 

A/B/O :

You’ve Taken My Heart By Storm: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson - 66,204 words - Explicit - 8 Chapters - Royalty au - Strangers to lovers - Alpha Louis - Omega Harry - Prince Harry - Arranged marriage - Forbidden feelings

Omega prince Harry of Silvermoor is betrothed to the powerful King Guillaume of Goldenhaven.

A month-long journey to get to his new mate brings along uncertainty, doubts and a guard that might turn the already promised omega’s life upside down.

But what will happen when forbidden feelings get in the way of his duty? Will the prince fulfill it and make his kingdom and family proud, or will he give into his desires?

War Of Hearts : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 80,061 Words – Explicit -  7 Chapters - Non traditional a/b/o - Ennemies with benefits - Alpha Harry - Alpha Louis

They are the bane of each other's existence, they never pass off an opportunity to remind the other of how annoying they are. Who would have thought that polar opposites could compliment each other so well? 

A story about two boys, one looking for patience and trying to be strong enough to stand up for himself, and one struggling with self-discovery and strength, where facts, reality and becomings hit him in the face, and suddenly, everything that's ever been important to him is in play. 

Invisible String: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 84,726 Words – Explicit – 9 Chapters - Alpha Harry - Omega Louis

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. 

This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. 

For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do. 

You've Got A Higher Power, You're Once In Any Lifetime: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 113,444 Words – Explicit – 14 Chapters - Alpha Harry - Omega Louis - Strangers to lovers (written for @bottomlouisficfest)

In a society full of prejudices, finding a family and being accepted, also seemed like an unrealistic utopia. Louis sets out to do what no other of his kind ever has before and in doing so, he finds love, friendship and more about himself than he thought he would. 

Chaptered fics:

Fly Me To Places I’ve Never Been: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson - 47,238 Words - Explicit - 6 chapters - strangers to lovers - fake/pretend relationship (written for the @bottomlouisficfest )

The one where Louis’ ex ends up sitting right behind him with his new girlfriend on his flight back to Los Angeles, and the beautiful stranger next to him has an unexpected idea to help him get through the next five hours.

Love Me If You Dare : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 54,724 Words – Explicit – 7 Chapters - Childhood friends (written for the @bottomlouisficfest)

Harry and Louis’ friendship starts with a game, after a simple dare. The two little boys quickly become the best of friends and referees of their own game. 

Unfortunately, as they grow up, they sometimes become the victims of it too. 

With them, everything is possible. They are capable of daring each other to do anything. 

But will they dare confess their feelings for each other? 

With My Body And Soul, I Want You More Than You'll Ever Know : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 58,824 Words – Explicit – 9 Chapters - MPreg - Strangers to Lovers (written for the @hlmpregficfest)

Louis knew he was in love the first time he saw the ultrasound. He felt perfectly content with it being just him and the baby. He had a plan. Until fate teaches him that love is full of surprises. 

Clear Blue Water, High Tide Came And Brought You In : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 79,444 Words – Explicit – 8 Chapters - Supernatural AU - RomCom AU - Strangers to Lovers (written for the @romcom1dficfest)

The one where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a vampire, and they have to hide who they really are to the other. What could possibly go wrong? 

They Say That Time's A Healer, How Long Is This Burn Supposed To Last? : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 81,046 Words – Explicit – 11 Chapters - Horse Riding AU - Exes to Lovers

Harry’s life revolves around Kartoon his horse, his family, his friends, his shop, and one of the biggest competitions of his professional career is upon him. But an unfortunate accident prevents him from competing and causes him to look towards another rider from his past. With so much history between them can they set it aside to focus on the championship for Kartoon and his rider?

Series:

The Ballet Recital Series:

Part 1: I'll Reach Out My Hand To You, I'll Have Faith In All You Do  : Harry Syles/Louis Tomlinson – 5,171 Words – Teen - Established Relationship

Harry and Louis are very excited to attend their daughter Rose’s first Ballet recital. 

At three years old, the little girl is going to realise her papa is also a ballerina and has magic powers that made all her fears go away. 

Part 2 : I'll Be There To Comfort You, Build A World Of Dreams For You : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 7,812 Words – Teen - Established Relationship

Harry and Louis Tomlinson have built a loving and supportive family, full of camaraderie and sass. Is all of this enough to help their oldest daughter, Rose Tomlinson-Styles, make her dreams come true? 

It's a Larry Life Series:

Part 1: My Arm Might Be Broken, But I Won't Be Broken Down : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 2,366 Words – Teen - Establisehd Relationship

Louis broke his arm for the second time and he is bored out of his mind. He has nothing better to do than mess with his husband. 

Part 2: Everything Is Not What It Seems : Harry Syles/Louis Tomlinson – 1,482 Words – Unrated - Established Relationship

Louis finds an intriguing object in Harry's music studio at home and he wants some answers. 

The Satellite Universe Series:

Part 1: Satellite : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 78,101 Words – Explicit – 11 Chapters - MPreg - Kid Fic - Strangers to Lovers (written for the @bottomlouisficfest)

Louis is a hardworking, dedicated, loving single mum with no interest other than making his son happy, and who thinks that love will never knock on his door again. 

Harry is a lone man, successful in his field, and thinks he has his life together and all figured out. 

Wrong meets clueless, lives get turned upside down in the best way possible with the help of a cute and curious little boy, who just wants to learn more and more. 

Part 2: Love You To The Moon And To Saturn : Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson – 20,726 Words – Explicit - MPreg - Kid Fic - Established Relationship

It’s been a bit over two years since Harry and Louis got together, Adam is now seven years old and life has been simply wonderful for their little family. 

Today is Harry’s birthday, and Adam and Louis have some very special presents for him... 

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @vaamiel  |  AO3: vaamiel

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Interview with Vaamiel

Vaamiel and Dema talk artistic development, childhood anime obsessions (-cough-Naruto-cough), and hoping to see Dorian in DA4

Dema: So, I know you take commissions, but have you done many exchanges before? Any Big Bangs?

Vaamiel: I've done a handful of exchanges over the years, but nothing really substantial. No big bangs either - though I've certainly read enough fics and seen enough art that others have done, haha. I'm sort of just... dipping my toes into the world of fanart for the first time since I was a teenager, so even though I've been drawing for ages, a lot of this is completely new territory for me.

Dema: Oh that is awesome! Welcome to the bang! What led you to return to fanart?

Vaamiel: I think a combination of a couple things: confidence in my own ability plays a big part of it – it's really intimidating to draw characters that I love so much and translating them into my style has always been difficult – but this past year is also the first time I've been really passionate about a game in... well, about a decade, and I think that's led to more experimentation and willingness to stick to learning subject matter that I otherwise struggle with. Mostly, Dragon Age coming back and Baldur's Gate 3 being out at the same time really pushed me back into the world of wanting to participate in fandom from more than the sidelines.

Dema: I really love your work. Artist to artist, how did you develop that confidence and style expression? What has that journey looked like for you?

Vaamiel: Thank you so much! It's funny actually, because the way I draw now has kind of... always been my style? It's just my technique and understanding of fundamentals that has improved. I can look back through my childhood sketchbooks and go, this was for SURE made by the same person, haha. As a kid I was all about anime and comics and games – particularly early gamecube and xbox stuff that relied on very stylized graphics to compensate for the technology. All of those things really saturated my brain and effectively became super tied to my own understanding of art and artistry and how I wanted to make art.

I've tried to emulate other styles or artists' techniques over the years, but (and I think this ties back to why I struggle with fanart) my own voice is so strong in my work that it really took all the joy out of creating. I've learnt over time that my personal art evolution is all about small changes and improvements, rather than trying to force ideas or ability through radical stylistic changes. Basically, I draw what I like and add things here or there as I come across something that I think would fit organically into my own style. That's been things like brushes or expressions or even the way I structure my sketches - all things that are small but can make a big difference in the overall picture. Add to that how my confidence has improved as my actual ability has improved, I think I've really organically grown into being better able to wrangle my style and apply that to fanart, original art, et cetera.

Dema: So now I do have to ask what fanart you were making as a kid and high-schooler? (I was a Sailor Moon kid. Sailor Scouts for ALL the most obscure celestial bodies one can imagine 😂)

Vaamiel: Hah! oh no 😂I was CRAZY about Naruto as a kid - actually, the first fanfiction I ever read was Naruto fanfiction. Then after that it was Homestuck, Inuyasha, Steven Universe, Pokemon, Dragon Age/Mass Effect... not necessarily in that order! I wish I was a Sailor Moon kid to be honest – would be WAY cooler than admitting I was a Naruto kid!

Dema: Inuyasha!!!!

Vaamiel: YES!

Dema: To be fair I am older than you by a pretty big margin LOL, I probably would have been a Naruto kid as well.

Vaamiel: LOL fair enough! It was in just the right time slot on cable when I was about...9 that the 4kids dub formed the foundation of my entire personality from that point onward.

Dema: So cute! Was there a particular moment that got you into Dragon Age fanwork?

Vaamiel: So, for my own work, I think it was the trailer last Dragon Age day and then in… January of this year or so, replaying Origins that had the cup finally spill over and I sat down and started making fanart. It was like my love for the series hit critical mass and with Veilguard coming up, it felt like the perfect time to actually try to make it work, you know? When it comes to appreciating Dragon Age fanart as a fan, it was two creators from tumblr that did it. Crystalvfae did a series of fanart that fundamentally altered my brain chemistry (I still look back on their painting of Morrigan and sigh sometimes - it is SO good). Then I found Spicyshimmy and was never the same. Their Anders/Hawke work is so special and got me into reading fanfiction voraciously in general. It totally reignited my love for reading and was the thing that got me into AO3!

Dema: Is there any specific bit of Veilguard that has you most excited? Or are you mostly avoiding spoilers?

Vaamiel: I am SO all in on all the Veilguard content honestly. I love trying to pick little bits out of the trailers and stills we've gotten so far and make connections to the lore/put together potential plot theories. I think I'm so excited for all of it? Like, I'm just ready to get back into the world of Thedas itself and experience a cool new story. Of course, I do love the graphical upgrade and all the locations we've seen so far and the costuming!! It's really all been exactly what I've been wanting. Also seeing Dorian again. That's probably pretty up there too.

Dema: Yes! Man. I cannot believe how cool Minrathous is. Dorian tried to tell us, but I am still flabbergasted.

Vaamiel: He was right!! All along!!! We really were in a different century.

Dema: As far as the current collaboration process goes, how are you feeling? Are the ideas percolating? Are the sketches sketching?

Vaamiel: Yes! I feel amazing about the partnership I've got!! I've got some scenes that I've got some sketches going for already – as soon as I read my fic I could see exactly where I wanted to take the art. The atmosphere is so good and the writing lends itself perfectly to the kind of pieces that I love to make. I'm really, really excited to be creating for this fic and collaboration!

Dema: I am delighted to hear that, we cannot wait to see what everyone creates!

Vaamiel: That was Very Difficult to be appropriately vague for haha - it really is an absolute delight to be working with my partners and I can't wait to talk about this fic and the art I'm making for it.

Dema: It is soooo hard to ask questions that are not POINTED hahahahaha, as someone on the inside who knows everyone's matches. You get an A+

Vaamiel: Yay!!!! I’m glad I was able to keep things appropriately mysterious 😌

Dema: Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with me today, it has been super fun!

Vaamiel: Absolutely! Thank you so much for hosting this interview and all the work you've put in for this event!! This has been a blast!

[digeethegenie]

Coffee, Biscuits, Coffee Biscuits.

Day 23 - On Cloud Nine Shadowbringers (5.3) - Reflections in Crystal Shadowbringers Raid Series - Where I Belong

Soft Ryne and Gaia shinanigins.

With The Empty restored, and life on its way to flurishing on the once light-blighted star, Ryne and Gaia finally have a moment to just be a couple of teenagers and enjoy some Coffee, Biscuits and, well, Coffee Biscuits.

In the weeks that followed both the confirmed felling of the last cardinal virtue and the empty's restoration to habitable land, a change had begun to take place in the general populace. One such instance of this was the fact that the children of land had begun to socialise, and dream of lives beyond the desperate struggle against an inevitaible and painfull death that had marked the last centry of the star's history.

This also meant that businesses were adapting to the demands of youth culture. This included The Leaky Keel making the most of the daylight hours to serve more youth aproperate drinks and meals.

Two such youths were Ryne Waters and Gaia who were taking a break from their respective duties, both in studying and in perparing for the festival that had been in the plans even before restoration of the Empty was finished.

Gaia, for her part, took the cup of coffee to her nose and allowed the arouma of the drink- made from beans imported from Eulmore- to take her out of the moment.

Partly because that moment was spent by Ryne sighing very loudly.

Dragged back to reality by the haggared sigh, Gaia could only look in sympathy for the Oracle of Light.

"Long night of it?"

Ryne leaned back on her chair. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe! Sometimes it feels like herding torama cats with the other committie members. Especilally that Seifer jerk!"

Gaia hummed, wanting to know more.

In an impressive bit of agrovated manouvering, Ryne took a coffee biscuit and took an impressively large bite out of it.

"I don't-" she stopped to swallow the current infused biscuit, "I don't care that his father is a big shot in Eulmore. If he speaks out of line or gets his flunkies to back him up one more time, I'm going to take that beanie of his and pull it right down his face!"

The name was fimilar to Gaia but for the life of her she couldn't put a face to it. There was a lot about her past life in Eulmore that she couldn't remember thanks to Mitron's influnace. It had been quite the sorce of frustration.

But that was then and this was now. And she was enjoying the now where Ryne was just venting her frustrations. It was cute. Sort of like, aproperatly enough, a torama kitten that was meowing out of frustration for reasons beyond the ken of man.

That wasn't to say it was all her taking in Ryne's woes in organisation.

"But enough about my rotten luck. Hows things going with Lyna?"

Gaia looked at bit put out. In order to make herself useful, she had joined The Crysterium's guard. She hadn't ment to out herself as anyone special, given how that went the last time, and given the fact that monster- and, more pressingly, sin eater- attacks were starting to dwindle. But no, a big old monster rolled up, nearly flattened Lance-Corperal Lyna who was only spared her fate via vigerous application of Gaia's hammer to the monster's forehead.

That made it twice that thing had embarassed her.

So now Lyna had taken her under her wing to train.

And she was not a soft hand.

"I genuinly don't know how the Exarch raised that woman but I have questions about his partenting style" she scoffed angerly. "She's a complete battle axe!"

Ryne tilted her head. "I thought she was trained in dancing artes."

"I- sch!" Gaia splutered, caught off guard before she shook her head. "You know what I mean!"

A smile crossed Ryne's face. As embarassed as she was, Gaia knew that the Oracle of Light found it adorable when she got flustered so that sort of teasing comedy act had become a frequent thing.

Not that she mind.

Oh no, far from it.

The two took a sip of their cofee and felt the heat warm them up. There would be trails, tribulations, and probably some reality shattering disaster being stopped by three foot of drawf that they would have so get themselves involved with in the future but, for now, the two oracles of The First were simply on cloud nine.

[fr33ze-y0ur-br4in]

Hey so I saw that your requests were open and you’d be open to do Khonshu stuff. I’m so excited because he’s like my go to but there’s not a ton of content to keep me fed so I’ll just as a simple fluff head canon stuff from you. I understand if you’re busy or whatnot so no rush, have a beautiful day!

.:*・°☆. Murder Bird My Beloved.:*・°☆.

My link list is here

Pairing: Khonshu x GN!Deity!Reader

Summary: general fluffy headcanons for Big Bird Khonshu dearest (includes backstory for “meeting” I suppose, maybe how you got together? (A/n: they kinda merged together), and then just general fluff stuff)

Warnings: it’s so much omg, Reader is god/goddess/deity of Promises and has a counterpart that’s the deity of Karma, GN!Reader, 2nd POV (“you” is used in reference to reader), Y/N not used, possible spoilers for Moon Knight, canon-divergent in most aspects, as usual probably cringey, also as usual should be POC friendly but if any descriptions of skin color are detailed please let me know so I can fix it, Reader’s godly form is said to have “eyes […] so golden they seem to reflect […] stars […]” but they have an unspoken human form that doesn’t have such specifics

Word Count: 1,134

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Beta/Proofread?: yep!

Notes: I told my friend to hear me out on Khonshu and she just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose🧍listen I can eXPLAI- It started out so well but went down in quality in the second part ;-; Would anyone like to hear about what my OC that Reader is based of looks like cus I love how she’s designed

How you met + Getting together:

Technically speaking, you had always known of each other’s existence, just rarely having spoken

Given that you are not part of the Ennead, you and your counterpart were not held to as high of a pedestal as them.

You, being the deity of promises, and your counterpart, being the deity of karma from broken promises, often kept to yourselves, only going to the other deities when necessary so as to not be reeled into fights and rivalries

Honestly it worked

No one really had an issue with either of you and you had few issues with the other deities

The only reason that you would have a negative encounter with another god would be if they broke a promise, swear, or deal they made with anyone else or if their Avatar did so

That being said, you and your counterpart always knew when and if someone would break a promise. Much like Ammit, you judged someone’s (or something’s) character before anything bad happened, looking into whether they would keep their end of a bargain when they made it. Similar to Khonshu and to the disappointment of your counterpart, you didn’t give punishment until after the deal was broken, giving them a chance to change their decisions.

This is why Khonshu held a certain level of respect for you whether he’d admit it or not

He knew that even though someone was almost guaranteed to continue down the same path or fate they begun, there was always that slim chance that they’d be able to change their path, either giving them salvation and rightful rewards from you two or appropriate punishments for their wrongdoings

He saw that you were all similar in style and execution of your duties, though he held a certain level of fondness for you that he didn’t hold for your counterpart

Perhaps it’s the way your eyes are so golden when in your true form that they seem to reflect the very stars Khonshu tends to manipulate

Perhaps it’s the way you’re the reason people gain a second chance, your counterpart wishing to be more like Ammit in that they believed you should punish the bad before they can affect the world

Perhaps it’s the way you have your own set of rules that you are determined to stick to:

Minor broken promises that have little effect on the world and anyone in it are not to be punished with anything more severe than a lingering feeling of regret for a bit of time

Promises broken having something to do with love are to be punished over time, rarely having an instant punishment to quickly get over, and shall have a lasting effect on the person or people in the wrong

Mortals are to have only three chances to break a major promise before their punishments are to be fitting for their level of importance to the course of the world

Gods, sometimes understandably having to go back on their word for the sake of the greater good, have five chances at most to break positive world-changing promises

You and your counterpart are to never break a major promise more than one time, two times being the point of worthy imprisonment

Never in your several thousand years of existence have you felt it necessary to break any or your rules, always sticking to them no matter what

Your counterpart, unknown to you being slowly corrupted by Ammit, disagreed with the rules and thought that humans shouldn’t break a promise more than once to be worthy of punishment, deities should have no restrictions on their deals, and you two of all people shouldn’t have to be punished for your wrongdoings

After Ammit and your counterpart nearly succeeded in taking all bad in the world and turned it in their favor, you helped the Ennead to imprison the two of them burying them deep in tombs so as to never be released.

Khonshu saw how even you, the counterpart and friend of the Karmic deity, were unwilling to bend your principles even if it meant taking on the entirety of the world’s promises and karma on your own

He decided you would be a good person to have on his side, beginning to call upon you in any situation he deemed fit, even daring to call upon your own judgment within the Ennead’s circle of decisions whether the other gods saw it appropriate or not

This is how over the course of a few thousand years, it became known to any who heard legends of the two of you that you belonged to each other, finding a mutual love for each other over the time you share

General Headcanons (after establishing relationship):

If you weren’t already a god/goddess/deity, you’d better believe he’d make you one. Although since you already are one, he holds you to the highest degree of devotion possible, not having any regard for whether or not it offends the others

Even though you didn’t, he’d treat you as though you helped to hang the stars above

Boy you have him wrapped around your godly finger 💀 (

Probably the typical “I hate everyone and refuse to listen to anyone except my perfect wonderful amazing lovely wife” type of god, yk?

Genuinely thinks you can do no wrong, it’s probably not even healthy but he loves you so it’s fine

(okay I know this is probably so unlike him but I am so obsessed with the idea that anyone resembling a crow in any way loves to bring random shiny things to people they like so I can just see him bringing you random bits of precious metals and gems to the point that all that he collects is able to be made into a whole ahh shrine or smt for you)

Not a headcanon but I’m now realizing i should’ve done human!reader cus that’d be easier for general headcanons but I’ll make that later

After he gets banished, you become more enraged than you ever had been, choosing to follow him instead of staying with the others

Hopelessly devoted to youuuuu~🎶

Falls even harder if that was possible

He makes sure that any Avatars he picks are worthy in your eyes

After a particularly difficult mission Marc took on, before the events of the show, Khonshu considered dropping him altogether

You easily convinced him to do otherwise, telling him how crucial he’d be to the world in the future

The only reason Khonshu held onto Marc and Steven for so long even if he’d threaten to drop them was because of your words always echoing in his mind even with the slight doubt that came with seeing Steven’s performance

After the events of Ammit, he never doubted a word you said again, always taking your words as the highest level of truth to be said

A/n: I’m sorry the last half sucks, I tried to make it as well as possible but I think my tiredness is getting the better of me seeing as it’s now 11:30 at night for me rn- I hope you like it either way <3