#and sometimes he might not be comfortable with it even in the best circumstances. sometimes it's gonna be too much

[podcastenthusiast]

Sure it's all fun and games Tav telling Astarion to "say please" and calling him a good boy before having sex, but he'd have a mini panic attack if Tav explained safewords and like actually gave a shit about his wellbeing in bed.

[delusionalmultilingual]

Bakugou cries in front of you, and you only.

In the first few months of your relationship he keeps up a hard and cold barrier, of course getting his usual hot-headed self when someone even slightly irritates him, but you calm him down eventually.

It's not like he has no emotions other than anger, he just had difficulty showing them, even if he really really wants to, he can't.

So when he's hurt one of his friends greatly, he slams the door of his bedroom, laying on his back, on his bed. He even locked the door for good measures, but you had a key anyway. It's not like he couldn't keep you out anyway.

It's when his eyes start to water and he can feel a lump stuck in his throat, it's when he messages you. He normally doesn't use punctuation in his texts, but it's when he's upset he does.

'Come here.'

That's all he messages, even if you haven't messaged him back, he knows you've seen it, or you've heard it from someone that he's slammed his door.

In his past he used to cry a lot too, but only at home and when his mum or dad was with him. His mum would comfort him the best she could, after all she did care about him. Even if he was a bit of a jerk to her sometimes.

She would wrap him in her arms and squeeze him tightly, pecking his forehead softly, running a hand through his hair. Her words would be a lot softer than her usual yelling behaviour.

When he burnt his hands from using his quirk too much she would scold him before comforting him, tending to his wounds before sending him off so she can get back to whatever she was doing before.

"Katsuki?" Your voice sounds out into his pitch black room, the hallway light shining underneath the small crack of the door. Knocking quietly, and trying the knob, it didn't move at all.

The doorknob clicks and you can only just see inside of his room, pushing the door open gently, Katsuki was already sitting back down on his bed, looking away from you. The door clicks closed when you push it back. Leaving the room in darkness again.

All you can hear is the small sniffling coming from him, your steps quickly shift to the foot of his bed. Crawling towards him and giving him a hug, bringing his head to your chest and whispering to him.

"What's the matter, what's got you so upset babe?" Your soft words make him settle into your skin instantly, a small patch on your shirt becoming wet with his tears.

His voice was still harsh as he spoke, but his tears and upset state made his speech croaky when he spoke. "I fucked up babe... M' a shit friend."

"Don't talk down to yourself."

Your words were still soft as you lifted his face and squeezed his cheeks, looking into his tear-stained gaze. He hides his face in your neck and lays down on his back. Bringing you with him and you huff a strained groan, rubbing his hair and breathing in his scent.

His body shudders against yours and your heart aches for him, he squeezes you tighter before letting you lay down next to him, wiping his tears and looking up at his ceiling. Still avoiding eye contact with you.

Sitting up and tying your hair back into a low bun. Your legs cross and you stare at him in silence for a good minute or two.

"I said something about Shitty Hair's past. When he told me. I‐" His voice cuts off as he breathes down the lump in his throat. "I told him it was stupid to think like that."

You stay silent, not wanting to say anything that might anger or upset him more, all you did was nod to his words.

His eyes well up again, before rubbing his eyes with his hands and sobbing again, his hands and arms covering his face so you couldn't see him like that. He hated it when you saw him cry anyway, knowing you didn't mind but the embarrassment in the near future got to him.

Sliding next to his head, you run a hand through his hair and stay quiet. He was quiet, which was unusual of him. But this was a different circumstance, on that you have seen before but never really shown.

You knew your words would comfort him but wouldn't help with the situation, so you sit there and let him cry it out.

Even if he would end up sorting it out he probably wouldn't apologise, or at least give a shit apology. He would go back to you and fall asleep in your arms, asking if he fucked up anymore, to which you would reply that time would tell.

God he hated when you did that.

This was completely based off an image I saw on pinterest, its not the best work I've done but I do have more planned in the future (・ε・｀ )

Now officially edited and proofread

Should I make this a story?

[chuulyssa]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 !

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — bsd men and their favourite part of you

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — smut and fluff

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — dazai, ranpo, kunikida, chuuya, akutagawa, fyodor, nikolai, sigma x reader

𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 loves your thighs. he loves to lay his head on them and rest, drowning himself in your soft skin, away from kunikida's screams and his piling work. they are his comfort, sometimes he catches himself squeezing them when he's thinking of a new plan or contemplating his existence. he likes the feeling of your clothed thigh, and how you shake his hands away when he does it in the middle of an important meeting. but dazai is dazai, and he reminds you of that by burying his face in between your thighs for two hours straight. poor you.

𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗣𝗢 likes to slide his fingers along the curvature of your waist in his pastime. it feels awfully nice to grab you by it when you're least expecting it, and even nicer to hike your shirt higher when you're not looking. ranpo is usually an unimpressed man because he correctly guesses his way out of everything, but his pupils dilate whenever you wear tops that show your waist. it's as if you're asking him to kiss you all over the magnificent curve. keep going and he might reward you with it :)

𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗜𝗗𝗔 has been in a dilemma for long. although his ideals called for liking conventional body parts in his lover like the eyes or the lips, he is very much inclined towards the movement of your hands. just watching your fingers flex around your pen while you filled in paperwork, or the back of your hand resting on your table lazily leaves him stiff in his seat. he can't keep his eyes off your fancy nails, and he likes to pepper kisses around your knuckles when the two of you are alone.

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 thinks he can spend eternity staring at your ass. it's perfect from all angles, and even better to touch. the way his fingers dig into the plush skin make his throat go dry, and he wishes nothing more than to eat you out every single time he catches sight of your butt. he's not the best at controlling himself, but sometimes circumstances force him to, such as in battles, when you're fighting an enemy, chuuya decides to take a break and check out your ass for a few moments for good luck.

𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗪𝗔 fell for you the hardest when he saw the love you held for him in your eyes. they are of the prettiest shade, he thinks. he stares into your eyes whenever you're alone, they bring tranquility to him. he feels he can be lost in them forever. there's something about watching them scrunch up when you laugh, or roll back when he's rutting into you. akutagawa likes that he can tell how you feel just by looking into your eyes. he believes it enhances trust in your relationship.

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 won't admit it, but all he ever wants to do to you in his free time is mark your neck. he's a busy man, and it's not always you two end up in bed, so nipping at your neck is one of the few things that seems as intimate to him. he loves it when you recoil under his kisses, and he loves it even more when you have to walk around with the bruises he made because you were unable to hide them. fyodor might have been a vampire in one of his lives, but you're not complaining, are you?

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 buries his face into your boobs at every chance he gets. he enjoys watching your nipples harden at the slightest provocation, and he gets off watching your boobs bounce when he shakes his head into your chest. he always gives you back hugs and leaves his hands suspiciously close to them. nikolai likes to squeeze your boob and pinch your bud, cackling at the frown on your face and kissing it. he has a hand on your chest even in non-sexual moments. the feeling of your skin so vulnerable under his touch makes him high.

𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 thought he was in heaven when he kissed you for the time. the taste of your lips was a luxury to him, and he might have melted had you not held onto him so tightly. he wants to cherish that feeling forever, so he always gives you kisses and quick pecks whenever you're nearby. when he's stressed, he gives you a long kiss to ease it and forget. when you're stressed, he coddles you and gives you small kisses. your lips have become comfort to him. he thinks it will be nice if you were his last kiss too, just as you were his first.

[marikosenwrites]

﹒⪩nsfw headcanons - karasuno edition

a/n: YES I AM BACK WITH THE NSFW EDITION HAHAHAHA ... yeah i only did five characters because i'm really running out of time before my vacation (two months long) and i assure you my progress will be really slow but i'll still be posting some random shitposts

characters: hinata shouyou, kageyama tobio, sugawara koushi, tsukishima kei, yamaguchi tadashi

gn/fem!reader

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘HINATA SHOUYOU∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-i would head canon him as the experimental type

-he’s kind of just the softie that looks after you a lot even during sex (and especially during sex)

-not if he goes feral though- (we don’t talk about it)

-mm…if you were sadistic he would enjoy your sadism and be a ma…masochist- (my friends said i was one and i mean i don’t disagree…)

-likes seeing your face!! so doggy style isn’t really that common for you guys

-(i’m actually looking hard into this wait until i get lazy)

-if you or shouyou something find something new- HE’S ALL “OOH CAN WE TRY CAN WE TRY” even if it’s like two in the morning and you have to tell him to quiet down

-“b-but i wanna try!! 🥺🥺🥺”

-and oh man is that face your weakness- you give in anyway

-his aftercare is like the best

-you guys just watch a movie or chill in each other’s arms because it’s comfortable that way

-if you’re only taking a small break i think shouyou would prefer keeping his dick inside of you so he can feel your warm ass walls 🥺🥺

-i don't even know what i'm writing anymore

-would actually only have sex after you're twenty and would make sure that you guys have dated at least a year but if circumstances...

-idk why but he would like to brag about it to kageyama- i mean they *are* rivals after all-

-has incredible stamina

-uh...idk probably into edging?? i'm really unsure with this one

-his moans are uh??? loud

-ALSO REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME HE GOT HIT IN THE BALLS BY A VOLLEYBALL BY KINDAIICHI-

-i'm not elaborating let me pretend he didn't get permanent balls damage

-also try to avoid quickies with hinata he’s going to get overboarded with that shit

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘KAGEYAMA TOBIO∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-possible power play?

-you like to make fun of him by calling him 'king' and he's gonna be like "stoppp..." and yk it riles him

-sadist

-not really the needy type tbh

-it’s really more of a “how i’m feeling that day”

-but he’s clingier than you expect him to be

-more of the traditional type actually

-doesn’t really experiment much

-he actually puts in effort during sex (i haven’t read enough about this)

-he TRIED during aftercare (keyword is try)

-might try to make you something but cooking isn’t really his forte

-so he gives you cuddles and you guys might just take a bath but that usually leads to another session-

-down for quickies anywhere

-i forgor to mention

-his moans are pretty

-when you guys make eye contact all you see is a hunter eating his prey

-he loves eating you out or vice versa <3

-literal king in bed tbh 😩

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘SUGAWARA KOUSHI∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-i'd say average when it comes to sex

-really soft with you, and is barely feral

-small grunts and gentle movements against your skin

-you guys would definitely have a safe word

-he gets carried away sometimes...><

-tries to plan everything before hand

-like starting with a date and ending in bed and shit

-possibly breeding kink when you guys are older

-loves being cockwarmed since he feels so warm on the inside <3

-feral-ness 3/10

-not really down for quickies, it's risky

-doesn't like experimenting

-might prefer to keep your sex life private and unlike hinata and kageyama not brag about it

-but the whole team knows of your relationship

-his stamina is just average so usually just a round and a half and he's down and snoring

-aftercare is a must if he isn't that tired

-consists of food, bubble bath, AND TONS OF CUDDLES

-literally an angel

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘TSUKISHIMA KEI∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-sadist FR.

-he just loves teasing and edging you

-literally when he's helping you with his slim and long ass fingers he stops when he knows you're going to come and goes like

-"you don't think sluts deserve to come, do you?"

-kEiiiii stappppp plz 🥺

-but when he's not edging you he's just a marshmallow

-so fluffy

-OK BUT HIS LONG ASS FINGERS ARE HELL BECAUSE HE GETS TO TEASE YOU ENDLESSLY

-that tall ass blond is gonna tease you endlessly about your height (this hc is both nsfw and sfw)

-pretty moans though <3 probably gives you goosebumps

-there probably is a safe word

-PHONE SEX PHONE SEX PHONE SEX RAHHHH I'M GOING CRAZY HEAR ME OUT

-OK WHAT IF HE'S AT CAMP AND HE JUST CALLS YOU BECAUSE HE FEELS HORNY AND YOU GUYS *lip biting*

-ya get what comes next he guides you to touching yourself and vice versa <33333

-but it's not that often he VOLUNTARILY goes to camp (he also wouldn't call you during the potential youth training camp thing)

-down for quickies anywhere

-i feel like he would be into getting caught by both girls and boys because now they know you belong to him and he belongs to you

-sooo yeah <3 ain't he lovely

-his teasing is crazy btw if you hadn't gathered that from the anime that is like "who said you could come, slut?" and "yeah baby, doing well-" it's like two hell and heaven differences

-his aftercare is amazing though because he shows his soft side

-lightest teasing maybe

-protecc at all costs

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘YAMAGUCHI TADASHI∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-masochist for a change bc well kei

-really really really gentle with you during sex

-safe word needed!! he gets overboard sometimes

-doesn't really moan that much contrasting to public opinion

-more groans and grunts

-loves to be cock-warmed

-no quickies nuh-uh

-kind of afraid of getting caught to be honest

-no kinks though tadashi's average when it comes to sex

-no phone sex either i guess he's the type of guy that FIRMLY believes that his cum only belongs in your pussy and nowhere else

-squeezes you hard when he comes

-i really shouldn't be doing this at school when i'm supposed to be working but integrity doesn't exist

-i hc that if you want to experiment smth with him

-he would do it with you <3

-overall a fluffy relationship

©marikosenwrites 2023-2024 all rights reserved. i do not own any of the haikyuu characters mentioned. please do not repost on any other platforms or translate them. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcomed! <3

tell me if you want more characters!

[solarisfortuneia]

— grace and coordination? who?

them with a clumsy reader. (ft. kaeya, thoma, tighnari, diluc, alhaitham, ayato, zhongli, childe.)

notes: pinkie swear this'll be the last repost for a while, bc i'm working on some new stuff mwah <3

kaeya's reaction to your mishaps depends on the situation. sometimes he's literal prince charming, the very picture of concern and worry. and other times, when you're not in a lot of danger— like when you've tripped down a set of four stairs, for example— he'll try really really hard to keep a straight face to protect your feelings.

over time, he'll develop a sense of when and where accidents are most likely to happen and take measures to either remove the obstruction, or guide you away from it entirely. however, if the situation is inevitable, he'll try his best to catch you. one downside though— or upside, depending how you see it— is that he'll always hit you with an overused, cliché line.

"looks like you're falling for me all over again, sweetheart."

this sweet, sweet boy is the most worried of all. initially, thoma thinks every scratch and every bruise is a consequence of something serious, but soon learns that they're most probably a result of your klutziness. even if you stumble lightly and regain your balance, he's instantly at your side, asking you if you're alright. he won't just take you at your word though, he'll check you himself from head to toe, and only then will he be satisfied.

he'll also carry bandages, antiseptic liquid, lotion, anything he thinks you might need. his pockets are endless. he'll even have small treats to console you after a bad fall.

"oh, dear! here, let me help you up. no injuries? good. here's a candy to cheer you up."

frankly, he's exasperated. and also very concerned. whenever you bump your head on a branch or fall backwards on your butt, he just sighs and shakes his head before helping you. he knows you're no careless fool, just very prone to unlucky incidents, so he'll spare you the lecture.

tighnari is a firm believer in the fact that prevention is better than cure. so, he'll make sure your footwear is comfortable and supportive and make you change if any parts of your outfit have the potential to be a tripping hazard. if you wear glasses, he'll remind you to keep your prescription up to date. all in all, he'll minimize the possibility of you tripping due to things in your control.

"you'll trip on that robe of yours if you walk outside wearing it. go put on something else, i'd rather not see you fall into a hole in the ground again."

diluc never expresses anything because he'd rather not come off as overbearing, but he's very careful with you. you can see it in the way he brings a hand to the edge of the table to stop you from hitting your head when you bend to pick up a spoon you knocked off the table, the way he keeps any sharp objects out of your reach, the way he's always scanning his surroundings.

he'll find himself doing all that even when you're not with him, and he'll be glad you weren't there to witness that. he'll baby proof his entire house just for you, and if he can, he'll baby proof yours too. he's the type to use the high quality silk handkerchief he carries around to bandage a scuffed knee.

"don't worry about it, cloth can be washed. the injury should be our first priority."

there is no question alhaitham can't answer and no puzzle he can't solve, except, of course, the conundrum of how you manage to stumble over air, or slip on a completely dry surface. he'll observe you carefully, try his best to figure it out but eventually he'll chalk it up to circumstances being arranged against you.

he takes matters into his own hands and just fixes said circumstances for you. beyond that, he knows he cannot do much. he has the uncanny ability to know exactly when you're about to do something where you'll end up with a bump on your head, even if you're miles apart. he's also not too worried, he knows that a tumble isn't the end of the world. the problem only arises when you don't get back up again.

he'll firmly refuse to go dancing with you though, both for his sake and yours. he'll turn you down gently and suggest alternatives.

"dance with you? i'm not sure that's such a great idea. how about we spend the evening at the café?"

kamisato ayato is grace, elegance and perfection. so it comes as a surprise to most of inazuma when they see that his partner is a walking disaster. he's fond of this trait of yours though; he thinks it's endearing. he's also very forgiving if you happen to step on his toes or bump into him. he has no issues replacing anything you break on accident too.

he knows he cannot personally keep an eye on you, so he'll have someone watch over you from afar to make sure nothing serious happens.  that's not to say he won't tease you, no. even though he knows the answer, he'll always ask playfully about any recent 'misfortune' you've been a part of every time he sees you.

"ah, there you are. have you fulfilled your daily quota of disaster for the day? now now, don't give me that look, you know i'm just teasing~"

he's unfazed, really. he's seen many types of people and creatures over the years, from the most poised rulers to the most unsteady fawns. one thing he does do for you is carefully consider any gifts he's thinking of giving to you, and dismisses the item if it has pointy corners or is fragile.

zhongli's the type to fall with you so you're not alone. he was once a powerful archon, a little accident in a busy hall is nothing for him. and seeing him mimic you with a stoic face to help you feel better is always a treat to witness. then, he'll dust himself off as if nothing happened, and offer you a hand.

"think nothing of it, dearest. i simply wish to accompany you on any journey i can, even if it is a short one to the floor."

childe's first and foremost reaction is to laugh when you hit your head on a pillar right in front of you, then he'll chuckle at the face you make at him when you're offended. he can't help it! it reminds him way too much of his siblings.

he sincerely promises, with a hand over his heart, to kiss any boo-boos better. and he'll insist on lifting you in his arms, and won't take no for an answer.

"no buts! i'm carrying you home like this. after all, the best way to stop you from tripping is to make sure your feet don't touch the ground, wouldn't you agree?"

[lauraneedstochill]

My first choice (part 2)

summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eyed prince to fall in love with. pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader words: ~8500 (this is why I divided it into 2 parts lmao) warnings: friends to lovers, more angst (death of a parent, attempted harassment), hurt/comfort, an embarrassing amount of softness, Aegon is the smartest one for once author’s note: this is heavily inspired by “Little women” (2019) and Amy March in particular (read the rest of my long-ass explanation in part 1). again, I apologize for the angst! it gets worse before it gets better.

 Part 2. In a room full of art I stare at you.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Aemond. Maybe you were too blind to notice until it was too late or maybe you were doomed from the start. From the moment when the boy, who everyone deemed to be intimidating and reclusive, bent down to you to offer help without any hesitation. The second-born son of the King, tall and close-mouthed, surely had more important things to do than waste time on a strange girl crying over her stupid dress — and yet, he only showed you solicitude, asking for nothing in return.

You thought that mayhaps you owed him, and were seeking the opportunity to return the favor. Or at least that’s how you tried to justify the fact that you were looking for him every chance you got. You often found a reason to chat with Aemond during dinners and feasts, feeling bad for him spending time on his own — and you learned that he was very easy to talk to. You made sure to visit the training yard if he was there and sometimes stayed to watch him train for hours, even — or especially — when everyone else already left. His tenacity and strength had certain allure but under all those layers, you saw a lonely boy whose only friend was probably his dragon.

Despite the circumstances and his preferred solitude, Aemond never rejected your company, however sudden it might have been. Even when Aegon foolishly suggested playing hide and seek one evening, bored out of his mind, and you busted into the library and stumbled upon Aemond, who looked like he had no interest in silly games. And yet, when you awkwardly asked for the best place to hide at, he guided you to the enclosed area of the reading room. It was dimly lit by just a few candles and, somewhere between feeling uncomfortable and getting scared, you reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away. Furthermore, he stayed with you and cheered you up with stories about Old Valyria, making you forget about any childish fears.

As the two of you have grown older, you often heard people being frightened by Aemond’s disposition but you found there to be no ground for that. He’s never been rude to you nor had he lost his temper, regardless of circumstances — and the day you saw him without the eyepatch for the first time was the prime example of that. It was getting late and Aegon had too much to drink and, while running around in a drunken stupor, he cut his hand somewhere in the yard. Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep but he was bleeding and refused to get help, against your best wishes. He was babbling that scars adorn a man — and then, in an attempt to escape you chasing him, he barged into Aemond’s chambers. You ran in merely a second after, with explanations at the ready, and were met with his younger brother standing there, looking startled. It took you a second to realize he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch.

“My scar will be easier to hide,” Aegon giggled, not recognizing the gravity of the situation.

It was the only time you had to make an effort not to slap him in the face. You thought it was mostly a secondhand embarrassment, which was part of the experience of being Aegon’s friend, but the look on Aemond’s face, hurt and humiliated, also made your heart ache.

“His scar is a reminder of his bravery and the strength of his character that he should only be proud of,” you gave Aegon a death stare. “Yours will be a reminder of your idiocy.”

It seemed to work as his smile vanished and he even muttered an apology, leaving hurriedly to call for the maester. When you turned to Aemond, he already had his eyepatch on, and you fought the urge to come and take him by the hand again. You didn’t want to bother him at such a late hour, so you opted to offer an apology, too, and leave him be.

“His behavior was unworthy. But I meant what I said,” you turned to Aemond on your way out. “And the sapphire looks very pretty,” you could swear you saw a trace of a smile on his face but you chose not to think much of it.

With every encounter, sudden or not, and every conversation, most of which were too short for your liking, you were making more room for Aemond in your heart. You should’ve known you were a lost cause when you actually told yourself — out loud, with hands grabbing the edges of your table — “I will not fall in love with him.” At that point, you already did. He always worked so hard to be seen — and you only had eyes for him all along.

You hid your true feelings well enough for anyone to take notice — but your father was no fool. He also knew better than to meddle with whatever your thinking process was. So he watched from afar for quite some time, until you started catching his curious glances on you every time you went to talk to Aemond. Predictably, after yet another feast he could not resist bringing up the topic.

“Did the royal menace have too many cups of wine again? Haven’t seen him this evening,” he adored Aegon whole-heartedly, and you suspected that their shared love for crude humor was the main reason for that. You didn’t mind.

“Wasn’t that many, actually,” you chuckled. “But he asked me and Aemond to help him to his chambers, said he wasn’t in the mood today.”

“Well, you seem to really enjoy Aemond’s company. I assume that the feeling is mutual?” he looked expressively at you.

Your face grew hot at his words. You also felt your heart break just a little.

“We are merely friends,” you told him, your smile too tense to be believable.

There was a shadow of concern in your father’s gaze, followed by a sad sigh.

“You will let me know if anything changes, though?” he mustered a smile in return and his was much brighter than yours.

“You will be the first one to know,” you promised as he came closer to bring you into a bear hug. You never spoke of it again.

Surprisingly, the only other person who seemed to have suspicions about the nature of your and Aemond’s relationship was his father, the King. You didn’t think he was aware of your existence, and even when your friendship with Aegon grew stronger and you became a regular guest at the castle, you soon realized Viserys barely paid any mind to his younger kids’ whereabouts. You would catch a glimpse of him in the halls and curtsy out of politeness but didn’t expect him to notice. You got too comfortable with his absence — so much so, that one day, when Aegon was carrying your supplies and humorously complained about the lack of art in the castle, you blithely suggested painting a portrait of the King. The last thing you expected was for said man to step out of the corner.

“I would be delighted,” he cut right to the chase. “Lady Y/N, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look scary up close, his face wrinkled and a tad too tired, but quite benevolent. He simply asked if you would be content with drawing him on the Iron Throne and you agreed, just as easily. Truth be told, you didn’t think he would follow up on his offer — being the King and all that, but he sent a carriage down to fetch you literally the next day. Viserys took the task with juvenile ardor, bombarding you with questions — what pose to take, what paint do you use, how quickly will it dry and how did you learn to draw. After he was satisfied with the answers, he changed the subject.

“My wife considers you to have a positive influence on my eldest son,” he pointed out with ill-concealed interest.

“I deeply appreciate her trust but I believe that he is capable of changing on his own,” you corrected him courtly.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he disagreed with a mischievous grin. “I’ve only heard good words about your guidance. It seems that you rein him back so easily, you would’ve made for a fine wife.”

You silently groaned at his comment.

“Your grace, I can assure you, our relationship is strictly of a friendly nature.”

“Oh, I know, I have seen you two,” he said, laughing, and when you peered at him, you saw that it wasn’t his usual uncomfortable-looking crooked grin but an actual genuine laugh.

“Shall you ever lay an eye on any other of my sons,” Viserys continued, much to your surprise. “Do not hesitate to tell me,” and his face suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

You ducked behind the canvas so he didn’t see your heated cheeks.

His suggestion lodged in your memory and even though you wouldn’t dare to actually approach the King, you held out hope that maybe he would give Aemond a similar hint. But months passed, Viserys’s condition drastically worsened, and for whatever reason, he never mended the relationship with his children. And eventually, your hope was gone.

You didn’t lie to Aemond when you told him about having power over who you love. But you failed to mention that said power has its limits — and doesn’t guarantee that your feelings won’t be one-sided. You learned that lesson the hard way when you had to face up to the reality you were in. Your love for Aemond seemed to be as infinite as the ocean — and you had to fit it in a fragile vessel of your heart. At first, you felt the waves raging at the mere glance of his, at every gesture of his goodwill or just upon hearing his voice. The storm of your feelings would splash over the rocks of your self-control but you survived the roaring torrent of love, time after time. The rough ocean grew calm over the years as you came to terms with being in love with someone who didn’t love you back.

You did choose to harbor feelings for Aemond, and you had no regrets about that. But when adulthood came with its own responsibilities that you had to focus on, all your energy was put into finding a husband. You were aware that your choice would have a major impact on your family as their stability depended on it. You approached the issue in a cold-hearted manner, prioritizing the duty above all else. Mayhaps, you were too calculated in your pursuit, and that was how you ended up accepting the courtship of a man who had nothing to give but his wealth.

When it comes to Jason, he never ceases to evoke a few feelings, too, but none of them are pleasant. His arrogance is the first thing that catches the eye — he’s wrapped in it and wears it with pride as if it’s another title of his. You often have to bite your tongue and fake a smile in response to his dismissive remarks and borderline vulgar comments. It doesn’t help that his self-esteem is inflated beyond your comprehension, and if only he could put his own face on their House’s sigil, he would. You are grateful that he keeps his hands to himself but you notice him getting quite handsy with the maids, and it gives you an unsettling feeling. His behavior is so disdainful and frivolous, you have no doubts that once you are married, you will be merely an accessory to him, a pretty wife to show off to his friends without taking your opinion into account. Showing off is the one thing he does best — and each time you can’t help but compare him to Aemond who doesn’t even know how to take a compliment. You find yourself thinking about the prince every time Jason comes by, and these thoughts help you get through tiresome promenades with the lord and endure boring dinners with him.

But after your last conversation with Aemond, you force yourself to stop thinking about him altogether. That decision is remorseless but you believe it’s for the better — or at least that’s what you convince yourself to think after you run out of the garden and into your carriage, only caring about getting home as soon as possible. You pretend that nothing happened, lying to your parents that the prince was too busy and you had to return earlier than planned. And then you lock yourself in your chambers, with hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of crying. A small part of you hopes that Aemond will come to you the same day and explain himself. But he doesn’t. When you don’t hear from him for another two days, you come to the conclusion that he regretted his sudden outburst. And that his words actually held no meaning.

Cutting Aemond out of your life does seem to be attainable with some time, and you perceive it as just another task, another skill you can master. But getting him out of your head seems like an impossible goal from the start. You are so used to keeping memories of him, cherishing each and every one, you can’t just erase them all at once. You try your best, you do so with ferocious persistence, but there’s always some annoying little reminder ready to surface and catch you off guard at the most inopportune moment.

It gets even harder when four days later you find yourself sitting next to Jason who is even more presumptuous than usual. At this point, you feel like your nerves are at the limit, so you can’t even find it in yourself to keep up the act. You push your food around the plate, jumping from one pointless thought to another: the tasteless meal, the barely visible crack in your cup, the revolting tone of the lord’s voice. You feel your mother staring at you, clearly displeased with your attitude, yet Jason is oblivious, too wrapped up in bragging about his winery — or whatever else he is talking about, you have no idea because you stopped paying attention about twenty minutes ago.

You think if you stay by his side any longer, you will be physically sick.

So you get up from the table — may be a bit too dramatic for your own liking — and muster out a weak excuse:

“My apologies, I am in need of fresh air.”

You leave before anyone has a chance to stop you.

It seems like an act of disobedience but there’s so much freedom in it, you feel that you can finally take a breath. And you do exactly that once you reach the balcony, several corridors away from the dining hall that felt stuffed with Jason’s ego. As you stand there, soaking up the last rays of the sun, you can’t ignore the obvious question — how is it even possible to marry someone you absolutely cannot tolerate. You never had illusions about the nature of your relationship with him but you at least hoped there would be some ground to build your future on. At yet, right now it looks like you are trying to lay a foundation in the quicksand. For a man of a noble lineage, Jason knows too little of what nobility actually is, and you have enough self-respect to not give him explanations. The prospect of marrying him makes your duty feel like a burden, and you contemplate if you should even take the risk.

You are lost in your thoughts until you hear a thin voice:

“Do you know where the sun lands?”

You turn to find your sister Alyna standing at the door, in her long white nightgown and barefoot, her eyes unnaturally large for her baby-like face. She always talks like that, too thoughtful for her young age, and sometimes she reminds you of Helaena. There you go, another connection to Aemond.

“I do not, my sweetling. Wherever that place is, it’s a well-guarded secret,” you comb her curly hair with your fingers as her curious eyes study your face.

“Maybe it doesn't want to be seen,” she deduces. “Just like you don't.”

Her ability to get straight to the point sometimes blindsides you. It’s also quite liberating to talk to someone who hasn’t yet learned the skill of pretense, and she may be the only sibling of yours with no ulterior motives or hidden agenda. Alyna tilts her head, signaling that she isn’t enjoying your touch anymore — and when you remove your hand, she says, out of the blue:

“Just like Ser Lannister doesn’t.”

You stare at her in bewilderment, and only then notice that the hallway behind her is empty. It dawns on you that Alyna’s nanny Dorea is nowhere to be found. She is only a couple of years older than you, meek and quiet, her trusting nature ever so defenseless — but she is also very pretty. Too pretty for her own good, as your mother likes to say.

You feel a wave of nausea again. This time, it’s followed by a sense of dread curdling in your stomach.

“What did he do?” your voice comes out unusually calm, in striking contrast with how you are really feeling.

“I heard him talking to Dorea outside my chambers. I wanted to join the conversation but he asked me to leave,” her brows slightly furrow. “He said there are some things I am not supposed to see.”

It may be the first thing you and Jason can agree on, you think. It is also the only thing because you certainly will never agree to marry him — and that realization frees you of any false politeness and self-restraint.

“What are those things?” Alyna naively asks, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I shall go and ask him,” you pat her on the cheek. “But you stay here, alright? I will be back before you know it.”

Usually, it would take about a minute to reach your sister’s chambers, but you cover the distance twice as fast. You are a couple of feet away when you hear muffled voices — one is demanding, the other one is scared, and both are well-known to you. You grasp the situation in no time and run to quickly open the door. When you walk in, you feel a flare-up of anger at the sight: Jason grabbed Dorea by the hips, trying to pull her closer, as she weakly protests, her palms pushing at his chest in an attempt to get away. The squeak of the door makes them turn their heads to you, and you see the distressed look on the nanny’s face.

And then their gazes fall behind your back, and Dorea gets horrified.

You easily guess the reason for that — your younger sister isn’t very good at following orders. So Alyna mumbles, standing next to you and looking at her nanny:

“I do not think she likes it.”

“Neither do I,” you throw Jason a baleful stare. “Let her go and get out.”

He removes his hands — so carelessly, it almost seems like he’s offended by your suggestion of his wrongdoing. Dorea immediately comes to your side, ashamed and distraught.

“Did he hurt you?” you inquire, helping to adjust her dress.

“My lady, I think you misinterpreted —” Jason tries to say but you shut him off.

“I am not talking to you,” you scowl in his direction. Your face softens when you ask Dorea again: “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, sheepishly trying to explain:

“I didn’t do anything, I-I didn’t want to, and he said... He said he is a lord and I sh-should be flattered.”

Not only did Jason has the audacity to pull that off but he also wanted to do so at your little sister’s chambers — and you simmer at the thought.

“I believe you,” you gently stroke her shoulder. “I promise you will never see him again.”

“These are some unrealistic expectations,” Jason sneers, walking to you but his grin dies down when you look at him again.

“I know your opinion of women isn’t very high — trust me, the feeling is mutual — but you cannot seriously believe you will fool me,” you sense that now he isn’t pleased with your attitude but you don’t care. “When I told you to get out, I meant it. You are not welcome in this house.”

“That doesn’t sound like a wise decision to make if we are to be wed,” Jason contemptuously hisses.

“Then I guess the wedding is off,” you glare defiance at him. “But whoever you end up marrying, I hope she outlives you. Just so she can spit on your grave,” the last part is meant only for him to hear.

And he definitely does as his face reddens with rage. Jason roughly grabs you by the hand, and your nose fills with the stench of wine when he speaks:

“You are in no position to make demands,” he drawls. “Your family is in debt up to its ears, you little halfwit, so I suggest you choose your words very carefully.”

While he doesn’t see it, Alyna looks between you two, and, out of the corner of your eye, you notice her frowning. She doesn’t do well with conflicts as they upset her deeply, which can only trigger one reaction. Before you can say anything, a high-pitched scream shatters the room, echoing through the whole house.

Jason removes his hand within a second, looking shocked, but Alyna stands innocently with her mouth closed as if nothing happened. Your parents come to her chambers in the blink of an eye.

“What is wrong?” your mother looks at you all uncomprehendingly.

“Ser Lannister got lost,” you cooly explain. “He is already leaving.”

“And why is that?” your father glares at him with suspicion.

You want to spare Dorea the humiliation so you pause for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. But Alyna has no understanding of what a maiden’s honor is — and she loudly proclaims:

“Ser Lannister was touching Dorea, and she didn’t like it.”

No one in the room needs an explanation for that.

“You shameless scoundrel!” your father roars at Jason, who unsurprisingly isn’t as courageous as before.

“Ser, there clearly has been a mistake — ”

“It was a mistake to let you in,” your father rudely interrupts him. “You won’t set foot in my house ever again. Get out of here before I make you!”

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice and storms out of the room as your father’s gaze follows him. He stands with hands clenched into fists, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“Pompous jerk,” he mumbles under his breath. “And to think that I was willing to give him my daughter’s hand...!” his voice breaks, hoarse with ire, and you notice a vein pop on his forehead. You have never seen him so furious.

“He’s been dealt with,” you cautiously say to ease the tension. “That shouldn’t be a cause for your concern anymore.”

He turns to you, his eyes bloodshot and breathing heavy. As you step closer, you hear whistling sounds with his every breath, and his gaze gets absent. You realize that something is wrong as he opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

“Father, are you alright?”

He places a hand over his heart, trying to inhale, a look of fear in his eyes. The chain of events is too sudden to comprehend: his breathing begins to wheeze as he squirms, falls flat on his back and convulses.

And then your evening turns out to be way worse than you could’ve ever imagined. A week later Aegon wakes up at an ungodly hour — and he’s fueled by sole determination to put an end to everyone’s misery. Surely, he must be the only sane person in his house since all his family members seem to be oblivious to what is going on between you and Aemond. Aegon, however, can use his eyes for their intended purpose — and it is clear as day to him that you and his brother are in love with each other.

He caught on to that pretty fast, although the signs were not that obvious at first: you often smile to people purely out of politeness and Aemond may not show his true feelings even under threat of death. So Aegon kept secretly observing you two, taking note of fleeting glances and light touches, of the way you would relax in Aemond’s presence, the way he was always too eager to help you with whatever you needed, and how you two would gravitate toward each other. Both his brother and his best friend were annoyingly stubborn about making their own decisions so Aegon didn’t mean to interrupt — or at least he tried not to. But when your evident mutual pining stretched into years, Aegon started losing his patience.

In the beginning, he initiated small things, asking Aemond to come and greet you (“Oh, I just woke up! And you are already dressed for the occasion”), to deliver you his hand-written message (“Yes, it is incredibly important and I trust no one but you!” — it was his doodling of Aemond), to keep you company during the feast while Aegon stepped out for a moment (he didn’t come back). He asked him to switch places at dinner (so you and Aemond could sit together), to help find the books you wanted (“All those years of you reading should be good for something”), to pick up the portrait of his children (“They are your nephews, is it so hard?! No, I am not being dramatic!”). A couple of times he even pretended to be way more drunk than he actually was just so you and Aemond could help him to his chambers and spend some time alone in the process. None of that worked. At some point, he seriously contemplated locking you both in a room but then came to the conclusion that you would rather team up to find a way out than confess your feelings. Truly, it seemed hopeless, and Aegon thought that maybe he should give up.

But as of recently he couldn’t help but notice that something was clearly off between you and Aemond, although the younger prince refused to talk about it, and you simply stopped visiting the castle. He decided to give it a day or two, hoping that you would sort things out and refusing to even consider the opposite. A week passed and nothing changed, and Aegon cannot bear looking at Aemond’s sour face any longer. So the older prince comes up with a plan.

He is unexpectedly the first one at the breakfast table and everyone who walks in shoots him a surprised glance. They are amazed even more to see that Aegon isn’t drinking which is as rare as a miracle. Aemond comes last and he is the only one who doesn’t notice the change, too wrapped up in his thoughts. Another thing that goes unnoticed is the gleam of sadness on their mother’s face.

Five minutes in, Aegon clears his throat to attract everyone’s attention.

“So, I was thinking,” he drawls loudly.

“That does not sound good,” Otto mutters, unimpressed, which Aegon chooses to ignore and continues.

“Lady Baratheon’s poor taste in men shouldn’t be an obstacle in our way of reaching the grand goal.”

“Which is...?” Otto asks while the younger prince doesn’t move an ear.

“To find a lady worthy of my brother, of course!” Aegon tries his best to say it with a straight face.

Aemond spares him a glance. “I didn’t know you took much interest in that.”

“I always have your best interest in mind,” Aegon slaps him on the shoulder earning a disgruntled hum in return.

“I was just thinking if we should go over the list of requirements once more,” Aegon suggests.

“I don’t have a li—”

“Of course you do!” another slap. “At the very least, she should be of a noble kind. Am I right?”

“Sure,” Aemond absentmindedly agrees.

“And we are definitely looking for someone who is keen on reading.”

“Yes,” Aemond rolls his eye and looks at his plate, already showing no interest in the conversation. That is exactly what Aegon wants — and he starts talking a bit faster:

“Someone with a flexible nature...”

“U-hmm.”

“And with a kind heart...”

“Yes.”

“A great listener...”

“Uh-huh”

“Who will attend to your every need...”

“Sure.”

“And may even be of indescribable beauty...”

“Hmm.”

“...And you will still be miserable because you love Y/N.”

“Yes,” Aemond says without thinking — and then it’s too late to take his word back because everyone’s eyes are already on him. When he turns to his brother, Aegon has a shit-eating grin on his face:

“You are welcome.”

Alicent looks genuinely confused. “Aemond, but why haven’t you mentioned it?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for years,” Aegon snorts, and Otto raises an eyebrow.

“Years?” his grandsire questions.

“I almost gave up on him,” Aegon keeps talking while his brother just sits there, eye glued to the table.

“She was the one who drew the portrait of our father,” Helaena cheerfully speaks up. “And he kept it.”

“He did,” Alicent nods and gives her son a sympathetic look. “Aemond, she is an admirable young lady. No one would have spoken against it if only you —”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Aemond cuts her off, averting his gaze. “She is to be betrothed to Ser Lannister, and I do not intend to ruin her plans.”

“You cannot be serious!” Aegon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shall you find the courage to propose, she will immediately reject him!”

“She already did,” Alicent avows, to everyone’s surprise.

Aemond looks up at his mother in an instant.

“Did she?” he asks in disbelief.

Alicent gives him a wan smile.

“A week ago, yes. It is rumored that his behavior... left much to be desired,” she explains half-heartedly. Her face, however, doesn’t show any signs of happiness.

“That seems like a reason to celebrate but it doesn’t sound like it,” Aegon looks at her questioningly, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation.

Alicent dithers as her face falls, eyes getting woeful and voice feeble.

“Her father fell ill that very day. Some say he got too upset with the whole situation, and I...,” she takes a deep breath. “I received a message this morning. He passed away three nights ago.”

Everyone falls silent, their faces showing shock that is quickly replaced by sadness.

“Seven hells,” Aegon mumbles.

Aemond doesn’t utter a word, feeling his heart sinking. He knows that you’ve always been your father’s daughter, and the prince cannot even begin to imagine how heartbroken you are right now. He should’ve been there for you, he thinks, full with remorse and guilt.

“You should go,” Aegon turns to him, not a hint of jesting in his voice. “We may give her some time to grieve, but I will gladly take Sunfyre out for —”

“Why would you need to?” Aemond gives him a puzzled look. “I can take Vhagar.”

Aegon emits a long-drawn groan and says to no one in particular:

“And to think he is the smartest one? I am having doubts”, he then glances at Aemond with reproach. “I am sure her mourning family will not at all get terrified at the sight of your monstrous dragon.”

His brother mulls over the idea.

“It is not safe to fly drunk.”

“I will be stone-cold sober.”

“You believe both of us will fit into the saddle?” 

“We will fit just fine, can you stop with your excuses?! I am being reasonable for once, and you are making me regret it!”

“I don’t think it would be wise,” Otto cuts in their bickering, and both princes turn to him.

He holds pause with a blank stare before a sly smile crawls out on his face.

“I would rather recommend the prince goes right away. We don’t want her family to make any rushed decisions,” their grandsire advises, earning a sign of relief from Aegon, who jumps out of his chair.

“We’re leaving this very second! Do I need to drag you out of your —”

“You do not,” Aemond stands up in a hurry — and then Aegon still grabs him by the hand, pulling his brother out of the room.

Alicent gazes fondly after them.

“It was very kind of you,” she says to her father without looking at him.

Otto thinks that, with how well you’ve been handling Aegon, marrying you to Aemond would be a blessing. Because gods know, he is fed up with them both.

On their way to the Dragonpit Aegon can barely hold back his excitement but his brother’s mind is clearly elsewhere. The older prince lets Aemond take time to gather his thoughts and doesn’t bother him along the road. But once they reach the cavernous building and both pop out of the carriage, Aegon decides some encouragement would be fitting. 

“Have I ever told you how I met her? That day at the feast?”

Mentioning your name always works wonders — Aemond turns to him in a flash.

“I was jesting around and she was the only one who didn’t laugh at my jokes. At all. Just stood there with a straight face and ignored me. Can you imagine?” 

Aemond does know the unimpressed look you usually give Aegon, and it causes him to let out a dull chuckle.

“Took me good five minutes to even make her smile — and, frankly, my success didn’t last very long. Pretty sure half of my jokes landed flat. But you know what was the real issue?” Aegon’s smile is melancholic. “Most of the evening she kept asking about you.”

Aemond looks like the very epitome of heartbreak. Not only was he blind, he was also an idiot, he realizes.

“I know, I should’ve told you sooner,” Aegon gives him an apologetic look.

Aemond shakes his head. “I should’ve told her sooner.”

“Well, it’s only been what, seven years?” his brother chortles weakly while the dragon keepers finally bring out Sunfyre, and the dragon casts Aemond a curious look.

Aegon approaches the beast first, running his hand over the scales that shine bright in the sunlight, and the prince can never get tired of that blinding beauty. But his excitement mingles with another feeling.

“I value her friendship, you do know that, right?” he squints at Aemond, who simply nods.

“This is my way of saying that if you mess it up, I might push you off my dragon on our way back,” Aegon casually remarks, grabbing the rope to climb up.

Aemond falters with answering, reluctant to admit.

“There is a chance that I already messed it up.”

Aegon looks down at his brother and gives him a stern glare.

“Unmess it, then.” You don’t remember much from the past week, your days and nights blurred into one another. The only thing that stays on your mind is your father’s face — you can still see it so clearly, with his gentle gaze and his every wrinkle, the corners of his mouth always upturn like he’s a second away from smiling. You also remember how that face contorted in pain, how his body stiffened, and that scene plays on repeat in your head, over and over. And then there are only pieces of memories, torn and mushed together, and you can’t find it in yourself to sort them out.

You spend all your time at your father’s bedside, with a string of never-ending prayers falling from your lips. They don’t seem to help — and nor do the maester’s efforts, and you lose hope with each passing minute. As hours fly, you get a very bad feeling that soon turns into blood-curdling awareness. Deep down, you know what’s to come, and you hate yourself for it. You think you will never stop crying but by the time the maester declares your father’s demise, there are no tears left. Death has many faces — none of them looked at you with mercy.

Your mother wails, overtaken by despair, your sisters don’t leave her side, eyes puffy and full of sorrow, and you are sure that you look the same — yet you feel completely empty. There’s a cleft in a place of your heart, and all the feelings seemed to flow out, leaving you drained and emotionless, but it brings you no relief. Everything in your house reminds you of your father, his presence tangible in the rooms and in the halls, his image still as clear as a reflection in the mirror. The memories of him crawl out of every corner, seep from under the doors, fall on you along with the dust you brush off his things that you can’t make yourself take away.

Stacks of hardcovers with bookmarks in the middle.

The unfinished cup of wine.

The long grey coat hanging on the back of his chair.

Piles of letters left unanswered.

Parchments, ink and a quill that he will never use again.

All the pieces of him that you can’t look at, don’t want to look at — yet it’s all you see, and there’s is no hiding from it. You feel trapped in your own house, and you wait for the walls to collapse so maybe under the weight of them you will find some peace. You are restless in your grief, you are drowning in it.

The day of the funeral leaves a blank space in your memory, void of colors and sounds apart from everyone’s crying. The ceremony is rushed and there is only a handful of family members since your mother couldn’t bring herself to tell everyone yet. You don’t blame her for it — you think she’s too afraid to say it out loud, afraid that speaking the words will make them real, and she’ll have to finally accept his death. You have no problem with acceptance, you just don’t know how to move on. How to stay strong when you are shattered beyond repair.

Your home now feels like a coffin but everyone expects you to be in charge, so you force yourself to. Merely an hour after his body was buried in soil wet with rain, you find yourself sorting out his papers. You look through his diary, his scribbled notes, the calculations he made in attempts to stabilize the emptying coffers. He’s always been the responsible one, keeping count and cutting costs, planning for the future — and yet he’s been robbed of it. None of it makes sense to you and your father isn’t there to teach you. You clench your teeth in frustration, and it makes you want to put your head through a wall.

You push through the second and the third day. You give orders to the maids, who walk on eggshells around the house, sharing concerned looks. You take it upon yourself to bring meals to your mother and all but spoon-feed her so she at least will have some energy to get up from bed. She doesn’t — while you want nothing more than to get away. You’ve had a fair share of responsibilities your entire life but now there’s an abundance of them and it puts you in a chokehold, and you are all alone in your discomfort which brings you no respite at all.

On the fourth day you wake up feeling like the walls are closing in and you can’t breathe, the need to leave anchoring in your lungs. You don’t want to waste another second as you put on a coat right on top of your nightgown, frightened that each moment of stalling might lead to you being dragged into the same routine again. But the house is asleep, and the sun has barely risen when you tiptoe out of your room. You only wake up one maid, telling her you’ll go for a walk so your sudden absence doesn’t come off as a deed of cruelty.

You step outside and close the door behind your back, taking a slow, deep inhale. And just when the guilt is about to sneak up on you — you dart off into the morning fog.

The air is fresh and cooling against your skin as you run away from your house and through the trees, not minding the branches or the damp ground. You breathe the crisp air in, and it makes your body feel weightless, and you speed up, leaving no chance for the responsibilities to catch up with you. Patches of the forest, splattered with all shades of green, bushes and weeds that graze your knees — you pay them no attention as your feet carry you further away, up the hill, to the most remote place you can think of. You don’t know how long it takes for you to reach the narrow wooden bridge and cross the remaining field that ends with a cliff, but when you finally do, your feet ache and your lungs burn and you gulp air.

The sky is draped by the light layer of clouds but the blue of it stretches as far as the eyes can reach, and the movement of the sea can be seen in the distance. The morning is still with silence and it welcomes you, the fresh breeze encircling your body. The feeling of it isn’t gentle as the wind instantly bites every part of your skin that is covered with sweat. You should’ve worn thicker layers, you shouldn’t have rushed, maybe you shouldn’t have come at all — but you are too tired of thinking, of restrictions. Of yourself.

You let the cold seep in and pierce you to the marrow as you watch the waves meeting the horizon. You then close your eyes, hands coming up to cross over your chest. It’s an oblivion of some sort — with no demands and no tears, it’s only you and the wind. The empty space around you matches the emptiness in your heart, and the beating of it sounds like a hollow note. You feel nothing, you feel numb, but it’s so tranquilizing, you can’t help but give in, just to stop brooding for a few minutes — or maybe hours, you care not.

In this state of torpor, you almost miss the sound of wings cutting through the air. When you open your eyes, you only catch a shadow hidden by the clouds and a glimpse of gold but it’s still enough to guess. Sunfyre. At any other time, Aegon’s visit would’ve brought you joy yet right now it feels useless against the doldrums of your soul. At least your sisters will be happy to see him, you think, not having the slightest desire to move from your spot. The wind is now howling, the grass is rustling — and then the small measured sound joins the melody of nature. It sounds like someone’s approaching but their step is nearly noiseless. There is only one person who walks like that, and the realization brings you out of your trance.

You turn to Aemond before he can say anything, your gaze meeting his, and he immediately stands still. The distance between you is just like before, and you only now grasp the amount of time that has passed. You haven’t seen him in two weeks — and so much has changed, and nothing is the same — but when you look at Aemond, at every painfully familiar feature of his, your heart twinges. You really, really missed him, and it’s the first thing you feel in fourteen days.

He notes your lack of protest and hesitantly comes toward you, only pausing when he’s at arm’s length. His cheeks are flushed pink from the wind, the collar of his coat raised to the angles of his jaw.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” his tone is filled with sadness. “Even if you despise me.”

“I could never,” you mirror the words he once said but your voice comes out too quiet and blank.

There is only compassion and understanding in his gaze, and you are hungry for both, so you don’t break eye contact. He doesn’t, either, and reaches out a hand — it moves to your shoulder as he says:

“I am so sor—” when his fingers come in contact with you, Aemond suddenly stops talking, and his eye darts to your arm. There is a flicker of confusion on his face that quickly turns into worry.

“You are freezing,” he breathes out, and his worry grows stronger in an instant.

Aemond cautiously guides his hand up and down your arm — you see the movement, clear as day, but you don’t feel it at all.

“I didn’t really notice,” you mumble.

You want to tell him that staying with your family drove you up the wall, that you lost sleep and the nights bring you no rest, that you accept your emptiness and loathe it. But the wind is still howling, your mind is clouded with exhaustion, and you are afraid that Aemond will get angry at you.

Instead, he pleads.

“Let me take you home,” he continues caressing your arm. “Please, let’s go back. You can’t —”

“I don’t want to,” you retort, and all the unsaid words bubble up and pour out. “I could not stay there any longer, it was all too much, I needed a break, I — it just made me feel like...,” your skin finally absorbs the heat of his touch which sends goosebumps down your spine, and you get short of breath.

“Like I wanted to disappear,” you say, voice barely above the whisper.

Your confession hangs in the air, and you catch that same unreadable emotion in his eye. Three heartbeats later Aemond removes his hand, and the absence of it threatens to strip you of your short-lived comfort. But then he unbuttons his coat — and opens his arms to you:

“Disappear here.”

His words break the ice of your numbness, filling your lungs with air — so much of it, you almost feel light-headed. You are cold, and you are lonely, and you missed him. In a heartbeat you fall into his embrace, with the same force one may plummet down from a cliff — only instead of waves, you are welcomed by his warmth, and you instantly sink into it.

Aemond takes you under his coat, gently putting it over your body, and then holds you tight. You instinctively wrap your hands around his waist, nestling against his chest. Your cold palms glide over his shirt, and Aemond involuntarily shivers but doesn’t budge. He starts slowly stroking your back, and you soak up the calmness that radiates off him. His touch is soothing, quieting your mind, and you lose yourself in the serenity that it brings. 

You are both lost in time, standing quietly, as your body gradually warms up and relaxes. You listen to his heartbeat, the rhythm of it even and lulling, and it makes you feel at peace.

When Aemond looks at you clinging to him, his heart swells with so much love, he can barely contain it.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It all happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. Everyone expects something from me now and I... I wish he was still here.”

“Your father was the kindest man I have ever met,” his voice is laced with sorrow. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. I should’ve come sooner but I only found out this morning.”

“And you came,” you remark delicately. “It’s all that matters.”

You snuggle up to him even more and relish in the feeling of his body close to yours, finding solace in it. You let yourself forget about everything else in the world, comforted by his kindness as he shields you from all the worries and the troubles of life.

“Whose idea was it to take Sunfyre?”

“Aegon’s,” the prince chuckles. “He was very persuasive, I’ll give him that.”

“Is he waiting for you on the hill?”

“He went to see your family, offer his condolences. And maybe complain a little since he didn’t particularly enjoy the flight.”

You try imagining the two of them squeezed into the saddle, and you know Aemond must’ve teased Aegon all the way to your house. You feel the tickling of laughter in your throat but it doesn’t go higher and then dissolves. Still, it’s a start.

“How much do you regret agreeing to that?”

Aemond pauses — and then his low voice vines through your hair:

“Right now, I don’t.”

You feel his heart skipping a beat, and for some reason, his pulse speeds up. You wonder what the reason may be, and your cheeks heat up when you are struck by the answer you can’t dare to hope for.

Or maybe you can.

“I’m not marrying Ser Lannister,” you blurt out, your own chest vibrating with anxiety. 

Aemond pulls away just a bit, only to have a look at you.

“I heard about that,” he reveals. “He was never a good —”

“You are under no obligation to say anything or do anything,” you cut him off, nervously lowering your gaze, because if he tries to pity you it will break your heart all over again, and you cannot bear it right now. “I just... I knew I would never love him. So I believe it’s only for the best.”

You keep babbling, but he hardly listens, his eye fixed on your face. Aemond isn’t sure you fully allow yourself to be this vulnerable with anyone. But it’s his favorite side of yours — with your bashful sincerity, your overly complicated explanations that he understands with ease, your habit of talking with hands, with your searching gaze and your eyes bright with life. It’s all the little things that he adores.

It’s what makes his feelings finally spill over.

“...But we don’t need to talk about it, you don’t need to say anyth—”

His touch is so gentle, you barely register when Aemond puts a finger beneath your chin, lifting your head to look at him — and then suddenly his lips cover yours. His mouth is even warmer than his hands, and he gives you a couple of seconds to make sure you won’t pull away. And then he starts kissing you, slowly and steadily, in a way you could only dream of.

Aemond gently cradles your head, his lips are soft and ardent — they meld with yours, and time freezes and sounds fade as you melt into the kiss, into his touch. And at that moment nothing else matters. You are wrapped in his tenderness, the ocean of feelings flooding your body, and he enters your heart like he owns it. He always did.

Aemond is the one to break the kiss, sensing that you are gasping for air. You slowly open your eyes in a daze, as if you’ve been awoken from a dream.

“I will take care of everything,” he affirms, his mouth still only a couple of inches away. “You do not have to worry about a thing.”

One of your hands moved on top of his chest, and you feel that his heart rate is back to normal. The pounding of it pulls you back to reality.

“You mean that?” you whisper. “Aemond, I don’t have that much to offer.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a trail of light kisses up to your temple.

“You have everything a man can wish for,” he reassures you, and his gaze finds yours again. “Everything I have ever wished for.”

The prince takes your face between his hands, and his thumbs follow the contours of your cheeks.

“Even in a room full of art I can only look at you,” Aemond murmurs, his words are flamelike and go straight to your heart, making it flutter.

Only now you notice that the sun emerged from the clouds, and the golden light illuminates everything around you. You bask in it as well as in Aemond’s affection — and he makes you feel seen, safe, cared for. Loved.

“That was very poetic of you,” you tilt your head and lean closer to him.

“I agree with poets on one thing — we have no control over who we love. But I have never regretted loving you,” he can’t stop himself from placing a kiss on the edge of your mouth. “And if I had to choose, it would still be you.”

When you meet his gaze, this time you read it with ease — and you are sure it’s a mere reflection of your own. An overwhelming feeling sweeps over and spreads through you. But the ocean is calm, and you are not cold anymore — and Aemond does love you, after all.

You feel your mouth quirk in a smile, genuine and a very happy one. Aemond presses his forehead to yours and promises:

“From now on, you will always be my first choice,” and then you see him trailing for your lips.

And you believe him.

the taglist: @greenowlfactif, @mischiefmanaged71, @pasta-rask, @imjustboredso, @iiamthehybrid, @m00n5t0n3, @crispmarshmallow, @bellaisasleep, @aemondssuit, @ipadkidsworld, @itisjustwhatitis, @maximizedrhythms, @fckwritersblock, @hiatuswhore, @fantasyreader130, @bibli0thecary, @teapartydreams, @kyuupidwrites, @thelittleswanao3 (I couldn't tag some of you for whatever reason, so I'll just message you guys)

yep, it’s me again!

the title is someone’s quote (I have no idea where it’s from, pls help a girl out)

“Disappear here” are Jonathan Carroll’s words that have been engraved in my memory for years and they just popped into my head while I was writing in a haste and only then I realized wait, technically it’s a quote, you can’t do that?! but guess what, I did! I also tried to rephrase these two words but it looked weird so I’m letting you know that I suck as a writer

the bit when she babbles and he looks smitten with her — I couldn’t help but think of that scene from “North and South” (it screams Aemond to me!)

I imagined the cliff to look like this 🍃

I originally planned to turn the romance down just a notch ’cause I already have 4 sappy fics and I wanted this one to be more “realistic” but… oh well, me and romance go hand in hand, apparently.

you will see this version of Aegon more often because I enjoyed it immensely!

what do you guys think? comments and opinions are VERY welcome! 🥺 ✨ my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[vhstown]

miles morales x you headcanons

— 1610!miles x gn!reader (friends to lovers)

warnings: just fluff lol (miles is a dork)

note: normal spider-man au, a little tiny bit long. v self indulgent and oddly specific but i tried to keep them in character + inclusive 😭 wrote this at 3am, somewhat edited

For context, you were Miles' first real friend at Brooklyn Visions. You kept running into each other, and he had a strong liking to you after you helped him escape the wrath of the hall monitors without question. Becoming fast friends, Miles is quickly involved in every part of your life at the academy, and he even more quickly develops a crush on you. Luckily for you, he completely forgets about the shoulder touch. The man has no game when he's around you, his best friend, though it's not like he needs to.

Miles draws you a lot, to the point where it's almost obsessive. You're in his sketchbook, class notes, a loose scribble on the back of a receipt. You have your hair different one day and he scrambles to capture it somewhere without you noticing. He has it down to a science, and he tries to convince himself it's absolutely normal to be able to draw you perfectly from memory.

When you find out, he wants a portal to open up and swallow him whole. It's more endearing than anything, though. It's not like you haven't been stealing glances of his portraits in the middle of class anyway.

You may or may not tease him relentlessly about it, but eventually, you get comfortable whenever he slips out his favourite pencil and you pretend not to catch his subtle, studying glances.

Miles loves his headphones, sure. He begged his mom to get them for him ages ago, promising he'd put them to good use. They're basically glued to his ears, that is, unless he's talking to you. He always takes them off, listening intently to whatever you have to say, even if you're making small talk or just saying hi.

Sharing music with you is always at the back of his mind until he finally caves and buys a pair of wired earphones. It becomes routine to listen to something together whenever you hang out, pulled a little closer to each other by the wire playing Sunflower between you.

And yes, he made you a playlist. He's definitely embarrassed about it at first, and listens to it a number of times beforehand to make sure you'd like it. It's full of songs that make him think of you and ones you expressed interest in. He's definitely overthought it, but it's worth your reaction and seeing the Spotify like count increase to one. He listens to it more than you do, though.

Miles is nervous about telling his mom about you. About the both of you. Yeah, he's already told her every detail of you and your life, but he's scared of what she'd think of meeting you in person; it's not like she's hyperaware of the boy she's known for all his life suddenly changing when you're brought up, right? Rio is definitely a mama bear, even if Miles gets the brunt of it sometimes, but when he brings you over for the first time you feel more than welcome. Miles' mom and dad are constantly whispering to each other during dinner trying to make you feel comfortable, and you catching one of Rio's half-scowls at her husband when he asks a stupid question. Either way, there are hugs and kisses at the door, and you leave with your heart and your stomach full. They might just be your new parents. (Maybe in the future?)

Miles definitely helps you with school when he can, especially with more technical subjects. He always drops everything when you message him with a math problem or right before your science finals. He's up on call with you til the sun's up, the both of you questioning your sanity and basic reason when it's really just an excuse to spend time with each other (though the circumstances are unideal.) You send him your English essay to read over one day and he painstakingly looks through it to find things to compliment you on; he has no idea what you're talking about.

And calls with you are one of his guilty pleasures. When he's sure Ganke's not paying attention or his mom's checked his room for the last time, he drops you a hopeful message. You're tired, but you find yourself justifying each time you call until 3 in the morning, talking about the same couple of things. He likes hearing about your day, where you've been, what hilarious or strange thing happened in your classes. He likes hearing your voice most of all; it's even more comforting when it's muffled by sleep and your thoughts come out in jumbled repetitions of the same thing. One day, you fall asleep on call. Miles doesn't bother to decline it, pulling his blanket over him and letting his eyes close to the sound of your breathing.

When the two of you actually get together, he's even more nervous than he was bringing you over for the first time. His brain short-circuits when you say you like him back, and he just says "yeah" or nods to everything you say. He can't believe you like him. Outside of being Spider-Man, he's a bit of a nobody (he just likes keeping to himself). Not to you, though. You're his only other friend besides Ganke (more like the sneaker thief) at Brooklyn Visions, and now he's yours. Despite the ample advice from his uncle, he misses your first kiss. (You try again after a lot of laughter and it's all okay when he gets used to it.)

But... he might be getting too used to it. In fact, now that he knows you're okay with the scary concept of kissing, he's always holding your hand, brushing away strands of your hair, even just holding onto your sleeve by his fingertips. Miles always steals kisses, especially before he runs off to his class on the other side of the academy (he insists on walking you to yours. Yes, he's been late multiple times.) You swear you'll get him back for those one-sided kisses, but the debt piles up, and you eventually get used to it too.

When he hasn't seen you in a while (after slinking off for his friendly neighborhood duties), he pulls you into the most enveloping, bone-crushing hug. His head is pressed into your shoulder and arms almost double-wrapped around your torso like he hasn't seen you in years. It feels like he could pick you up, no matter how much you insist he'll never be able to lift you. It gives you a strange sense of security, and you never question why someone of his stature could probably throw you like a tennis ball.

Though, when you do manage to show him affection before he slips away, he totally melts at your touch. It's like his crush forms all over again, like it's your first kiss all over again. You like to bombard him with love just to see him go quiet and flustered and hear that very specific laugh he's had since his crush formed. He likes having you close, no matter what you're doing. Even if you're both on your phones, he always lets you lean against him or has an arm around you. When you catch him off guard with a little peck on the face, you notice him frantically looking through his home screen like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

You'll get him back one day. Until then, you'll chase him around the whole of Brooklyn if you have to. He's happy to be caught, even happier to be your boyfriend. Maybe one day he'll even give you his drawings of you. Or his entire sketchbook, it's basically all just you. Recently, it's been made up of your smiles. Maybe he'll just keep the sketchbook for himself.

🕸️💫🎧

thank you for reading ^^ this is my first post so any suggestions wld be appreciated. this is my secondary blog so i can't reply but feel free to drop an ask! (not taking requests atm)

read the rest of my atsv headcanons here!

[charliedawn]

hey Charlie. I have a request, but it might be a little difficult to write or just uncomfortable maybe so feel free to ignore it. Anyway. I’ve been having medical issues lately, and I was wondering, the Hannibal family with a disabled best friend or s/o? Thank you, I hope you have a really good day!

Your writing always cheers me up thank you for running this blog ❤️

Hannibal Lecter Sr.

Hannibal Sr. is the type to view disability not as a weakness but as something to be analyzed and understood. He would go out of his way to ensure that you’re comfortable and well-cared for, though he’d do it in a way that reinforces his dominance. He’d subtly take control of your environment, adapting it to your needs without ever making it feel like a burden. His way of helping might feel intense, as he’s the type to make sure every detail is attended to, but his care would be genuine. He’d be protective of you, ensuring no one disrespects or undermines you due to your disability, while quietly manipulating circumstances to keep you close under his influence.

Hannibal Lecter Jr.

Hannibal Jr., being more reserved but equally caring, would approach the relationship with patience and practicality. He’d make sure your needs are met without ever making you feel pitied. He’s the type to do research on your disability, finding the best ways to accommodate you without making a fuss about it. His quiet demeanor might mean that he doesn’t vocalize his efforts, but you’d notice how smoothly he adapts to your needs—moving things in the house to be more accessible, finding ways to ease daily challenges. His care would be subtle but deeply thoughtful. He’d never allow anyone to see your disability as a weakness and would offer gentle reassurance whenever you needed it.

Morgan Hannibal

Morgan’s medical background would make him particularly attuned to your disability. He’d take a logical, almost clinical approach at first, making sure you had everything necessary for your comfort and health. He’d offer his medical expertise if it was relevant, but he’d also respect your autonomy and boundaries. Despite his cold and calculative nature, you’d find that he’s surprisingly attentive to your needs. Morgan might have a harder time with emotional displays of affection, but he’d express his care through actions—ensuring your environment was safe, advocating for you when needed, and supporting you in a quiet, unspoken way. He’d never see you as less capable, treating you as an equal partner or friend.

Kevin Hannibal

Kevin would be fiercely protective and supportive of you, especially given his blunt and loyal personality. He wouldn’t treat you differently because of your disability, though he’d be quick to jump in if he saw anyone trying to take advantage of or mistreat you. His impulsive nature might lead him to get angry or defensive if anyone made a comment about your disability, but with you, he’d be gentle and creative. He’d find ways to integrate your needs into his artistic world, perhaps drawing or painting things that represent your experiences, making sure you feel seen and understood. Kevin would be a constant source of support, never allowing you to feel like a burden and always finding ways to cheer you up or make life easier without making it a big deal.

Also he’d be more than happy to drive you anywhere you’d like and have fun road trips with you.

Peter Hannibal

Peter would be the most openly expressive about his care for you. He’d likely worry a lot about your well-being, always asking if you’re comfortable or need anything. While his concern might sometimes feel a bit overwhelming, it would come from a place of deep affection. Peter would likely become emotional if he saw you struggling and would do anything in his power to help, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort. He might be overprotective at times, but his intentions would always be loving. Peter would never see your disability as something negative—he’d admire your strength and devotion, becoming your biggest cheerleader in any difficult moment.

[oneshotnewbie]

Hello! I hope you're well :)

Would you so kindly be able to do an Emily Prentiss x victim child!reader where reader is kind of young, maybe like between 6-10 and they've been held captive by the UnSub for weeks now and when the team finally finds the location, reader has gone mute and very cautious/scared of everyone and only allows (to an extent) Emily near them? Since she's the one who first finds them? Emily is very patient and comforts reader even if they don't speak and such. But reader eventually becomes comfortable enough to speak again, using short sentences and few words with Emily (maybe even some other team members, too).

Emily could possibly take them in but that part can be up to you!

I can't wait to see more of your work btw, you're so good!! Thx! Xoxo 💘

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topics of abuse, trauma, child neglecting, punishments and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Authors note: I have tried my best to accommodate this request. I have to say that I changed the request a little because I didn't want to write a 6 year old child being kidnapped by a stranger, so I just had to do it with the father who has a criminal record. I also had to shorten it and basically skip a period of time in order to fulfill the second part of the request. I hope it is still okay. Also had to split it into two parts, Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all at once ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

Walls. Excessive tightness.

You did not know how long you had been in that closet, and you did not want to know either. Far too exhausted from all the panic attacks and the walls threatening to crush you. Your stomach was growling like it had been ever since your father decided to punish you for everything you did.

Your hands were shaking, your eyes were glassy, but you were long past crying. That only made things worse. Your father knew no mercy, and certainly not for his scared and crying little daughter.

Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if you actually suffocated in that closet. Better to suffocate from the reducing air than to be suffocated by your own father. You would not grow old, you would not reach the age of 10. You were sure of that. You were convinced that something would happen to you before your next birthday. But so far you had gotten older every year and every birthday you were sure that it would be your last.

Your father would not let you sleep in your bed anymore, but at least today it was in the closet and not in the gazebo that you had to sleep in. It was late autumn and in the arbor, the roof of which had tiny holes, there was a risk of hypothermia and finally freezing to death. Your hand, which was squeezed between the closet door and your thigh, had now fallen asleep and despite your constant shaking, you felt immensely hot. You noticed your face starting to glow again- you had a fever from the cold that blew through the room at night. You carefully pulled your hand out from under your leg, hitting your head on one of the wooden insert panels of the shelves, causing a dull thud as it came loose and fell onto your body.

Your heart skipped a beat before stopping briefly, you squinted for a moment, hoping that the noise had gone unnoticed and that your father had disappeared from his guarding position in front of the closet and was downstairs in front of the TV. But then you heard footsteps, quiet and muffled through the ajar door and the wood that surrounded you. It sounded nothing like your father and his firm, jagged steps and you begged that you had not misheard and were now in for a lot of trouble.

The door creaked and your breathing became increasingly quicker. You did not mishear. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to calm yourself and prepare yourself for what was to come. If your father saw you so upset, he might keep you here longer or deny you food for the next few days.

The key turned in the lock that locked the two doors together and you heard them slowly open, but did not dare to look outside. The fear of provoking your father when you greedily gasped for fresh air and light was too great. You felt a slight breeze on your bare shoulders and cheeks. Still, you kept your eyes closed, hoping to avoid your fate.

Instead of your father's disapproving shouts and rough hands that would normally drag you out of the closet, there was only a careful, barely noticeable touch on your shoulder. When you raised your eyes, you saw a strange woman with black hair. "Hey, sweetie. I am from the police, you are safe now," the older woman's eyes were glassy. She seemed unsettled, as if she was afraid of breaking you with one wrong move, as if you were made of delicate mass. "You can come out now, your father can not hurt you anymore."

You nodded and a few moments later she had pulled you out of the closet, carefully and slowly so as not to hurt you, and immediately drawn you into her arms. You just let it happen, completely unable to understand that this was a foreign woman you were clinging to.

Your father had forbidden you from speaking to strangers and your fear of upsetting your dad was huge. But something about her voice made you give in. "I am Emily. What is your name?" she asked and rubbed your back soothingly, your courage to speak failing you. When the rest of her team stormed into the room a moment later and looked down at you in front of the open door, you panicked and shook yourself away from her before returning to the closet where you felt safe.

A hand signal directed to Derek and Hotch, they disappeared silently from the bare room with the remaining SWAT workers and left her alone with you. It took some time for you to gain confidence and crawl out of the wooden wardrobe again. The young woman had talked her head off with various topics in order to give you a feeling of reassurance.

You followed Emily's hand movements carefully, and at the sight of the little package of gummy bears, your mouth watered and your stomach began to make itself known. "Someone is really hungry!" She whispered and smiled softly before opening the small package and holding it out to you.

You carefully sat up, occasionally glancing at the door so that you could move back into the closet as quickly as possible in case of an emergency. But nothing happened. The black-haired woman pointed uncertainly but grinning at the package. "The green ones are my favorite. And what are yours?" you rummaged through the tiny package with your fingers until you held a red gummy bear between your fingers and showed it to her. "The red ones? Uhh, they are yummy!"

You jumped away while the first bite, she had raised her hand too quickly. She shook her head, swallowing hard. Emily had not thought for a split second. “Can I feel your forehead?”she asked after a short hesitation and you nodded, afraid of upsetting her like your father, granting her permission.

She gently placed her hand on your sweat-covered forehead. You were feverish. She slowly lowered her hand carefully again and watched you as you hesitantly gnawed on a gummy bear. Your father did not like it when you just wolfed down your food and often had taken it away when fell into a deep hunger.

Emily continued to watch you, her eyes sad and exhausted. You cocked your head, wondering if you had done something wrong. When your eyes met for a moment, you hesitantly reached for her free hand and placed her favorite gummy bear in her palm.

You found a kind of care and hope in her presence. Hope that you can still lead a normal life and never be locked in the closet by your father again. Emily caught the very first smile you gave her before you stood up and carefully fell into her arms. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" she giggled softly, her heart swelling and beginning to pound wildly.

"No,"

Surprisingly, she widened her eyes while keeping her mouth wide open. After hours spent in this cold room with only forensics downstairs doing their work, she had finally managed to hear your gentle and childlike voice.

[thatstonedwriter]

⋆｡˚ 「More than Enough」⋆｡˚

◉ Sinopsis; comforting their s/o, who struggles with their self-worth

◉ feat; M&M, Fizzarolli, Striker

◉ A/n- kinda been in my feelings for a few days, but it's alright. Also haven't written for Striker in a hot minute so I'm deciding to give it a try

___˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘___

Moxxie and Millie also struggle with self-esteem and self-worth, so when you're feeling down, they have a good idea of what might be able to cheer you up.

Moxxie, ever the thespian, writes you a ton- and I mean a ton- of little notes, poems, and even songs- all declaring his unconditional, undying love for you and Millie. It's not generic love songs either- what Moxxie writes are the most heartfelt, sincere declarations of love you'll ever hear

Dude will also follow you around all day like a sidekick- actually. This guy takes the Hype Man position very seriously. Whenever you're talking, he stands to your side, hip jutted out and arms crossed. He's so sassy for no reason

Millie actually takes a more lowkey approach- don't get me wrong, she and Moxxie absolutely smother you with love- but Millie's lowkey nature helps balance out Moxxie's grand gestures.

Millie is pretty observant, so she's able to pick up on your subtle mood changes and habits fast. Wrapping your arms around your stomach? Millie beats you to it and has her arm around your waist. nervous fidgeting? Millie holds your hand, and gives you a reassuring smile.

Of course, they each have their own off days- sometimes y'all take a collective self-care day which is just code for you sitting on the couch, ordering food delivery and watching dumb shows; no matter the circumstance, Moxxie and Millie will always love and support you unconditionally.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Fizzarolli knows exactly how it feels to think you're not living up to everyone's (or even your own) expectations. While Fizz knows there's no such thing as completely "getting rid of" these feelings, he will always do everything he can to reassure you.

Distractions are Fizz's specialty, so if you're feeling down, expect lots of jokes and random stories- its just his way of helping you get out of a negative mindset, even temporarily

Fizz is also the kind of partner to perform impromptu stand-up comedy acts when you're feeling down. Sit your ass on the couch with some snacks, because for the next thirty minutes, you're gonna watch Fizz attempt comedy while using a wooden spoon as a microphone.

It's funny to think Fizz knows a little bit of a bunch of different languages; wanna know what that results in? Him attempting to flirt with you in Italian or French but really just saying a bunch of random bullshit. It's the thought that counts, right?

Don't let the robotic limbs fool you- Fizz is very touchy-feely (unless you're uncomfortable with it). If you happen to be insecure about your physical apperance, Fizz is there to assure you, there's nothing to be insecure about. You're literally the most amazing being in his eyes

Fizzarolli knows how hard it can be to wrestle with your inner-critic, and that it takes a long time to unlearn the instinct of being self-critical. That's why he takes every moment he can to tell you everything you have to be proud of.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

Striker isn't one for self-doubt or insecurity. There's not much room for it in his life, so it's harder for him to empathize with what you're going through.

when Striker does take the time to understand what you're going through, he's still confused. He's more pragmatic, so when you list your insecurities, all he can think is how wrong you are

It's a bit harsh, but hey, so is he. Though, he does understand there's a lot about relationships he has yet to learn- like how to be a bit more sensitive when dealing with feelings of self-worth

at first, Striker's solution is to tell you "prove yourself wrong," but when he sees it's not the most.. effective solution, he opts to just listening, and doing his best to be a pillar of support.

Rather than rushing to fix things or immediately tell you you're wrong, Striker sits and will listen to you for hours. He won't offer unwarranted advice or try to invalidate your feelings- he just listens.

And at the end of the day, Striker knows what there is to love about you. He may not express it as openly, but Striker cares about you, and hates seeing you beat yourself up. He hopes one day, you can see yourself the way he does- perfect as you are.

___‎˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘___

[caelesblues]

across the universe (part 1)

⋆｡°✩ what it's like to love a member of the astral express, even when you're universes apart ⋆｡°✩

c.w./t.w. fluff with bits of angst, lowercase intended, intense word vomit

word count: 2,750

characters: welt yang, himeko, dan heng

gn!reader, title is inspired by "across the universe" by baek yerin, notes at the end.

part 2 (with march 7th, stelle, and caelus)

“why are you still with him? he left you didn’t he? he’s probably never going to come back anyways, so why are you still waiting?”

“how are you sure that he's not cheating on you out there? i mean you said it yourself, he’s traveling to different planets, who’s to say he’s not fooling around every now and then.”

“you’re wasting your time by staying with him, just break up with him and move on already. you’re not even sure if he’ll still love you after all these time away from one another.”

life really does like to throw curveballs at you every now and then huh? you would have never thought your relationship with welt would become conversation fodder for anyone, and you could’ve never predicted that they’d be bold enough as to outright say to your face their unwarranted opinions and remarks. but you can’t necessarily blame them as well, seeing as how such an upstanding man as welt yang just suddenly upped and left to join a group of intergalactic adventurers to go on, as they would say, a “trailblazing expedition” across the starry plains. 

okay so maybe it wasn’t as sudden as you make it out to be (like he just disappeared into thin air one day), but it was news enough for everyone else as well that at some point people were questioning your relationship with him.

at first people would just extend a sympathetic pat on the back or say some comforting words when welt just left, it then morphed into others skirting around the topic of him and your relationship for fear that they might upset you when a considerable time has passed since he first left, and now they’re outright questioning your loyalty to him when it’s been years since everyone had seen him last. 

it truly fascinated you how they once looked at you with concern and pity as if to say “you poor thing, left all alone”, but now their gazes lock onto you with a look of incredulousness as if to communicate “what is wrong with you, you’re waiting for nothing”. 

but all this talk just proves to you how the general public don’t really know either of you properly, and how other people’s views of your relationship will never really mean anything. while to others welt might seem like such a cold and distant (no pun intended) lover ever since he left to pursue adventures across the galaxy, it could not be further from the truth of who he really is as your lover. the thing about a man such as welt is that he is a stable and reliable presence in your life, that second guessing has no room in your love for one another. 

even across the universe this aspect of him and your relationship did not change the slightest, in fact your relationship just got stronger through the challenges you’ve faced together brought about by your unique circumstance. sure communicating with each other when you’re so far apart is quite the herculean feat (especially when he finds himself in missions, in which he can become virtually uncontactable sometimes), but welt will always find a way to send you a heads up of his current situation and will either message or call you once he finds an opportunity to do so. 

he seems to have a knack for knowing when you’re suddenly doubting yourself and where you stand in his life, and so he does his best to constantly remind you of just how important you are to him and that this distance between you can never overpower the overwhelming love he has for you. welt is always making time for you even when he is considerably busier, even finding ways to include you in his adventures, be it through pictures, videos, or taking you on a virtual tour on their current stop. 

that’s why you pay no mind to the naysayers trying to chip away at your resolve, doing their best to plant seeds of doubt and mistrust in your relationship with welt. they’ll never know of the numerous ways you’ve both cultivated a routine with one another to accommodate your (incredibly) long distance relationship, will never be privy to how you’ve learned to better trust one another at such a crucial turning point in your lives, the ways you’ve managed problems along the way, and how incredibly in love you both still are. 

what others say don’t matter to the both of you, what’s important is even with the universe itself separating you both, you can always count on each other. 

space is cold, both the great big universe out there and the spaces beside you that himeko used to occupy. you guess this is to be expected, after all himeko has always exuded such an incredible sense of warmth about her. Ever since you both were kids she had radiated even amongst her peers- alway getting high remarks, easily making friends, showcasing her myriad of talents, getting recognition after recognition; it always felt like a person such as herself would be an untouchable figure, but still had enough grace to mingle amongst the common folk.

admittedly this is how you felt when you first met her when you were kids, but the closer you two became the more you understood that while himeko is undoubtedly someone who is always destined for greatness, at her very core she is just someone who has a heart of gold. 

ever since then you’ve stuck by her side, the once distant admiration for the girl you held in high regards had slowly but surely blossomed into an unfathomable affection reserved solely for her. and so it left you completely in shock when you learned that himeko, a person so incredibly bright, warm, and loved by all, had harbored a crush on you as well. it was kind of hard to fathom what aspects of you she finds desirable in any way, but just as you found comfort in her, himeko also found warmth and solace in you too. 

after the confession everything just fell into place, and the rest was history as they say. you both became each other’s beacon of light, warding off the coldness and darkness the world likes to throw at the both of you from time to time. since becoming himeko’s lover, you have had the privilege to see all kinds of sides to her that the public doesn’t necessarily have the chance to witness, and being there for her during one of her life’s biggest projects-reviving the astral express.

day in and day out you can be found helping her fix the train, from simply handing her tools to getting yourself all tangled up in numerous wires. along the way you’d both started to learn more about the express, and you’d witness there and then the determination that grew on himeko’s face-you knew that once the train was up and running again, she’d take for the stars just like akivili and the nameless did once. 

just as you were excited for when the express would be in commission again, you were just as nervous to what it meant for the both of you. you and himeko knew that no one could stop her from leaving, not even you (as if you would ever in the first place, really). and so all you could really do from then on was countdown the days until she inevitably had to leave, savoring the moments of warmth you’d still get to relish in while she’s still here with you.

 days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years-it took a long while, but the astral express was finally ready to go. the day of her departure is as clear as ever, watching alongside everyone else as himeko commandeered the train into finally take off for the great unknown, replaying the last face to face conversation you’d have with her for a while,

(“so uh….this is goodbye then huh?”

“i guess it is, but i’ll come back someday”

“will you though? and for how long will you be gone?”

“I don’t really know myself, you can’t really be too definitive with things like this”

“i know. i’ll miss you a lot though”

“i’ll miss you too. hey let’s promise each other to always keep in contact no matter what, ok? that way we'd still have each other even if i’m docked on some planet far away.”

“of course, i gotta make sure you don’t forget about me”

“and i have to make sure that even when i’m gone, you won’t find someone else to replace me”

“i could never”).

a lot of time has gone by since then but you both have kept true to your words of still making time for one another, and as the years have passed you and himeko have cultivated a routine-one that ensures that at least you still get to spend time with one another, even if just through virtual means. and it’s through these moments that you realize that no matter how far himeko may be nor how long you’ve gone without her by your side, she still radiates the same warmth you’ve always loved about her. 

the fear you initially had of how himeko would go cold on you once she leaves, gradually dissipated when she showed you how utterly devoted she still is, how she never changed amidst the ever growing spatial distance between the both of you. you can still feel her happiness for you when you recount  all the things you’ve achieved, how she’s always lending a sympathetic ear to your rants though she may be busy, the words of comfort through your times of need, and most especially how you still consider each other as home. 

it’s through all these kinds of moments that you realize your fear was unfounded, that no matter where she is, your himeko will always be someone you can always find peace in. and that for her, she knows that somewhere out there she will always have a home to come back, a home in the shape of you. so while the spaces beside you that she once occupied have now gone cold, the love you hold for one another continues to blaze stronger than ever. 

“hey, are you still awake?”

“i was just about to go to sleep actually.”

“oh…i’ll just call some other time then.”

“it’s ok, i don’t mind. besides i know you need me right now anyways”

“i don’t want to keep you up though”

“hey, what did i tell you again when you get nightmares?”

“....that i should never hesitate to call you.”

“exactly. ok, so tell me what happened?”

conversations like those are a very common occurrence for you and dan heng. though he keeps on insisting that you didn’t always have to pick up his calls, or that he’s just repeating the same stories over and over again, you shut him down quickly and thoroughly by assuring him that asking for comfort will never be too much for you. 

see it was never like this initially, that man always had an aversion to seeking out help from others when he needed it, and you were the one dan heng was always hiding his woes from. for as long as you have both known one another, he had always put up a wall of having to be strong even when he’s so clearly falling apart at the seams. well maybe to you it’s clear as day but for a majority of the people he encounters, dan heng is simply just an impenetrable wall of aloofness. 

getting to that point wasn’t an easy task to conquer, it had taken years of knowing and staying by each other to even get to that point. even then there were still times wherein dan heng would withdraw from you entirely, ranging from a few hours to a few days-but by and by, you’d still be there waiting for him patiently and he’d come to you when he finally felt ready to.

this slow but gradual strengthening of bond and trust instilled a confidence in you, that no matter what you’d be able to weather whatever storm may come your way…but things took a rockier turn once he left the luofu, bringing you both back to the days wherein he simply could not be reached. It was already difficult to get a hold of the man in person, but it significantly became harder once he started his starfaring journey with the express. 

messages being left on read, calls not being picked up, being stood up on planned video call dates, taking hours if not days to respond-these were things that consistently happened once dan heng became on the run, and you greatly understood why these things are happening in the first place anyway because a lot of the time there are just things out of both of your controls (very distant intergalactic communication being wonky, the different time zones dan heng finds himself in, work that impedes a lot of efforts to connect, etc). 

sure it was frustrating to deal with something like that when you never really had to in the past, but what really got under your skin was how you felt he started to drift away the more time he spent away. It disturbed you immensely bearing witness to conversations get shorter and shorter, the once comfortable silence now becoming painful pinpricks that can only be remedied once either of you leaves the call, and how you’ve now once again stood outside his walls. 

it was essentially being abandoned again, but this time it felt even more painful knowing that you can’t even confront him as easily as you did once. you were losing your mind as the days passed, trying your best to remedy the situation you’ve both found yourselves in, but it was nigh impossible with a man as adamant in running away like dan heng. the more he fortified his walls the more you were losing hope in being able to fix your relationship, hoping that the next day will at least bring about some good in any way. 

it wasn’t really until one day, after they recently completed another expedition that you got dan heng finally opening up to you. detailing how that particular experience made him realize that he was losing you for quite some time now,

(“the couple i met there….they reminded me of us”

“hm? how?”

“they were also going through a tough time, at least the one i talked to said so”

“....do you think we’re going through a rough patch right now?”

“i know we are”)

and thus that entire night was spent talking, remedying, and mending the relationship from the brink of fully collapsing. reminding the man you love that no matter where you both may be he can always turn to you for anything, that the universe itself will never be strong enough to deter you away from him. dan heng also assured you that he’s not going anywhere, even if he gave the opposite impression. that you can also rely on him when you need him, and that he’ll do better from now on. 

the days and nights of worrying were undone by his simple action of finally reaching out, of finally letting his walls down for you again. a full night spent reassuring one another, learning how to better trust each other, and finding ways to better navigate your unique relationship. and that’s the thing with loving dan heng, that there will inevitably be downs to accompany the moments of highs, but you two will always find a way to solve the problems you face. though at times it may feel like either one of you is slipping away, one of you will always be able to pull the other back from completely disappearing. that nothing is ever too great for the both of you to face, because you’d always find your way back to each other. 

“you ok now?”

“yeah, thank you for listening to me.”

“of course, i’ll always be here for you.”

“i seriously didn’t ruin your sleep?”

“nope”

“well, if you say so.”

“you feel like you can go back to sleep now?”

“yeah, all that talking made me sleepy to be honest”

“good, good. well i’ll also go to sleep now then.”

“good night, i love you”

“night night, and i love you too”

FINALLY IT'S HERE! this blog is not abandoned, i was just working on this one piece for such a long time T_T not only was i busy with other irl things, this work gave me such a hard time since i restarted this so many times already ಢ‸ಢ

this is such a word vomit and i'm not so sure with the formatting (looking at it makes me want to ndaoindawn), i might change it later on. anyways part 2 with the rest of the members will be posted shortly.

i hope this at the very least decent huhuhu. likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated!

caelesblues @ 2023 | do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or repost on any other platform

[anika-ann]

Back and Forth - prologue

Prologue: Flash Forward

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 800

Series summary:  Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.

However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other... and then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?

Series masterlist

Warnings: canon-typical violence, allusions to death, pain, blood, hurt/comfort-ish, language

A/N: prologue to a new series with enemies-to-lovers-ish vibes and inhuman reader; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader's appearance

The exhaustion was coming and going in waves, alternating with pain, concern and fruitless determination.

You wondered if Steve felt the same; you assumed he did. Asking would feel a little silly though; you didn’t see the point and frankly, you and Steve had never been close enough to just sit down on a couch and share your feelings, keeping them close to the vest except for the heat of your occasional arguments. So you stayed quiet, alone in your wondering.

The pulse of pain in your legs dulled a while ago; you let your head lull back against the wall you were leaned against, the thud sounding just as dull.

The irony wasn’t lost on you; you and Steve had been colleagues, reluctant friends as best, guarded and unsure about the other most times despite him being one of the most honest people you had ever encountered. It was true that you stood by his side and he did by yours, but there had always been an invisible wall between you. By the irony of fate, now, when an actual wall separated you, you could feel the figurative one crumble down.

It was surreal and frankly scary; which was just as ironic, given your circumstance that should feel much more terrifying. And yet… you couldn’t help the little warmth spreading in your chest, knowing your back was aligned to the same wall Steve’s was, mere inches apart, and while admitting certain things to him hadn’t been pleasant, in hindsight, it felt good. No matter the outcome, you had no doubt that if you survived, you’d remember these moments fondly, at least to some point.

And yes, it probably made you a masochist; but what else was new.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the files?” Steve’s low voice snapped you out of your musing, making your heart jump a bit in fright.

It shouldn’t have surprised you he asked one of many questions you didn’t want to answer. It was another of his annoying and endearing talents – and you rarely gave him the satisfaction of replying fully, just for that. But what the hell, right? Maybe you were about to die here. And you had just thought about how telling the truth, while embarrassing, felt liberating too.

“Would you have listened?” you questioned him back anyhow.

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

You heard him shift, the clank of metal and a low hiss escaping his lips making you gulp. You weren’t the only one battling pain.

“I would have heard you out. I admit I was angry at that time and I wasn’t… behaving as I should have and I’m sorry. But I would have heard you out.”

A brief barely-there smile curled your lips as he apologized again. Steve Rogers, ladies and gentlemen, unable to bear the fact he himself had been less than a gentleman. You might have been far from a friend and even farer from being able to tell you knew him and understood him despite having screamed at him the opposite, but you understood enough. Even if you sometimes wished you didn’t.

“But would you have listened?”

He didn’t reply.

You both knew the answer: no. He wouldn’t have, because he was the damn Captain America and he believed he knew the best, blindly following his inner compass pointing the true North even should all hell break loose, and those files weren’t a real concern anyway, were they?

Damn him.

And yet. As you challenged him further, you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your chest humming louder, because yes, that was who he was, and you liked him that way, even if he was driving you mad at the same time.

“Or would have you just waved it off, because you are invincible?”

Silence stretched again.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on hearing his breathing through the wall, still startled and relieved at how easy it was to do so. It was a good distraction from the pain still radiating from your wounds; and it kept your hope alive.

Dum spiro spero, right?

Despite the situation – or maybe out of spite, given both yours and Steve’s nature – you were still breathing and so was Steve. As infuriating as he was, you knew your heart would break to pieces if he stopped. Unable to walk or not, you’d find a way to break through the wall in mere seconds if he stopped talking to you.

Which he did just now.

Something in your ribcage contracted painfully, your voice shaky when you spoke his name, praying he was only offended at you calling him out. After all, being shot really fucking hurt, so you’d rather not move at all, let alone try to crash through concrete; that was the sole reason for your prayers. Liar, whispered a breathless voice, but you ignored it, your heart hammering against your sternum.

“…Steve?”

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Well, well, well... I'm leaving - to a certain point - the realm of fluff to dip my toes in action and angst. Should end well too, right? Anyway. I hope you enjoyed this little tease😇

I admit this fic really is just a baby for now, even as the outline is done, but I simply had to share - too excited not to... oops?

I'm fairly confident this should be around 7 parts including prologue and epilogue, but I'm also me, so the number might slightly rise.

Thank you for reading 💕

[nowritingonthewall]

Not me thinking about Miguel taking care of you during a migraine attack 🥺

He would be so soft and caring because he understands. There would be no downplaying of your symptoms, no “Why can’t you just take some painkillers?”, no “Stop being so dramatic!”.

He would notice the first signs even before you do. He may not be in possession of *the* spidey sense but when it comes to special senses about you, his abilities know no limit.

And while you still try to argue that it might just be a regular headache and anyway you should try to get as much work done as possible before you are no more use to anyone, he has already picked you up to carry you to a quiet and dimmed place.

Which is usually his room. And even though it is the darkest and most silent room of the station to begin with, he still scans the vicinity for potential noise makers. Not even Lyla dares to disturb you when Miguel starts to take care of you.

In addition to placing a bucket right next to the bed, he meticulously covers the pillows in soft towels. It’s not that he fears any accidents should you have to throw up, it’s just that he knows how much you worry about making a mess.

In case you do have to throw up, he gently holds your head while giving you the softest of back rubs. If you have long hair, he’ll carefully brush it out of your face and put it into a protective style that doesn’t add to your pain.  

Even though he knows how hard it is for you to drink under these circumstances, much less eat anything, he always has a tray with water, tea and your favourite snacks nearby. He knows exactly how frequently and how much of your medication you need to take and makes sure that you do so.

Despite your protests he puts away any electronics and devices that require you to look at a screen because he knows how much they would aggravate your condition.

He gently places a damp cloth over your eyes and regularly checks whether it needs replacing.

As soon as you start to shiver, he wraps you up in a fluffy blanket. If you start to feel too hot, he’ll get some fresh and cool blankets instead.

Though no blanket can match up to him, of course. He’ll snuggle up against your back ever so slowly and carefully, always checking whether he might overstimulate your aching senses with his need to take care of you. Slowly letting his hand caress up and down your arm in the most gentle and comforting manner, he somehow manages to hold you just as tight as you need him to.   

Sometimes, when even the softest of hugs by him are too much for you, he’ll just lie down next to you and hold your hand, drawing soothing circles on its back with his thumb.

When the pain becomes so unbearable that you can’t stop your tears from falling, he does his best to comfort you, holding you and mumbling soft and soothing words. Reassuring you how brave you are and how he is there for you and how he is going to watch over you.

And as you finally fall into an exhausted sleep, already knowing that you are going to wake up feeling so much better, you can’t believe how loved you are 🥺

[tutantmeenageneetleteetle]

Hi I was wondering if I could request something.

How would the 2012 turtles feel about an autistic s/o who had situational mutism? I am someone who has both and I use cue cards or text my responses when I am unable to communicate them verbally. It would be interesting to hear how the four of them approach this circumstance.

Situational mutism

Thank you for your request! I hadn't heard of situational mutism before, so I hope that what I wrote is somewhat accurate to how it works! Feel free to correct me and educate me (can be in my DMs or requests if you prefer it to be more private!) And if I made a mistake, I'll change it!🌸

Leo

Thought you were mad at him at first, or didn't understand what he was saying

When you explained (by typing it out), he just let out an "Oooh... okay"

He might struggle a bit, the first time it happens

When you are able to communicate verbally again, he will try to make a plan with you (here comes the plan-guy again, who needs a plan for everything...)

He will ask you what you need, what he can do to help, what you don't like, how it works, etc.

Prefers if you communicate through text to speech, but if you prefer something else, that's totally okay too

He just wants to make sure you're comfortable

He will make sure everyone waits for you to type out what you have to say to make sure you're not talked over or ignored

He will teach you some ninja hand signs as well, for emergency communication

Raph

Would be really confused and frustrated at first

He would think you're purposefully not replying to him and it would tick him off

After you explained (by typing it out), he would feel really guilty about getting angry with you

You'd get one of them rare apologies

After that, he would stick up for you and get angry for you if people weren't considerate enough or impatient in their communication with you

"Situational mutism is hard, you asshole! Be considerate, or I'll beat a little respect into you!"

Violence may not be the answer you were hoping for, but it is an answer nonetheless

The dumbass will sometimes not notice or forget that you have situational mutism, though.

In his own words, feel free to hit him on the head and make him pay attention/remember

Döner kebab

He would be quick to pick up on the fact that it's not 'just you being quiet'

Would ask you about different options in his mind that could possibly be related to you being silent

"Don't you want to talk or can't you talk? You can't? Okay. Does it give you anxiety to talk? Sometimes, okay... You also have autism, right? Yes? Situational mutism? Yes? Okay, that makes sense, then."

He will do his research

Will make you a smart watch that is designed for non-verbal communication, where you have different keywords, phrases, and letters to communicate

One of the phrases will be "Donnie is the best boyfriend ever!"

Please don't give him too much space to talk, though (I'm saying this for your own good). Any silence he can find, he will yap about some science related stuff

Mikey

He would be too busy yapping to notice at first

He would just start asking you endless questions and you could not keep up with answering them, since it takes longer to even answer with text or cuecards.

When you did manage to explain, he'd just react with "wooow... alright. Dope." While he does fingerguns. (6/10, kind of funny response, but could've been more considerate, since it's a struggle sometimes)

Out of all of them, he will pick up the communication the easiest

Cuecards will work best on him

He will spend the afternoon making them with you

He thinks it's really fun to use cuecards to communicate together, and he will use them to you too

Will always have a set of cards on hand for you (or him!)

One of the cards will have an arrow pointing up with the word "kiss here" written on it

[mammalsofaction]

Cupid, Cupid Shot Me 5 Times in the Heart

Rating: T

Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Hurt/Comfort, Divine Wrath, Divine Hubris, Roman Gods, Human Perry the Platypus, ASL, pining, idiot4idiot

A/N: Dedicated to @erizumon for being a sweet cheerleader, @adhdoofenshmirtz for the awesome prompt that I couldn't resist even if it took FOREVER, and @agentlizardofowca for putting up with me complaining about proofreading

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Perry's at the point of his career–as the uncle of the Flynn-Fletcher twins, arch-nemesis of Dr Heinz Doofenshmirtz as well as the best agent Danville's OWCA had to offer–that he often thinks he's really seen everything.

Heinz, in this case, often and with joyful vindication, trumps the laws Quantum metaphysics nearly every day. Sometimes accidentally. His nemesis is the one who's taught him best the boundary between realities can often be as flimsy as a blue-print, and the difference between success and failure for even the most mad of ambitions may sometimes be luck, coffee and determination.

What he's trying to say, here: Perry keeps thinking Heinz can't really surprise him anymore, scheme wise. Today, he was proven wrong once again.

The trap snaps him up upon entry; Perry finds himself hanging by a tangle of ropes hanging from the ceiling. It pulls him into a pose that was a bit on the nose, considering the date. His left leg suspended and tied close to his back, leaving him partially horizontal, and forcibly arching his back, his arms stretched out into an archer's bow.

Cupid. Right. Valentine.

The first thing he notices was the behemoth of an inator; metal molded in hearts, chrome, scarlet and pink.

The second thing he notices is the raised platform in its heart, colored bone white and curved into a ribcage.

Say what you will about Heinz, but he would always stick to a theme.

"Always a pleasure to see you again, Agent P, " the man croons, stepping out of the shadows. His sneer is a poor facade over unrepentant, almost cruel glee. It made him look more evil than he truly was, and it ratchets his blood ever hotter. Perry chitters, but Heinz barely gives him a second glance.

"I'm sure you've been made aware of what day it is." Heinz drawls as he began to pace, shooting a scathing look past the bounds of his balcony. "Neither should you be surprised I've got a grudge or two to keep.

"You see, Perry the Platypus, as is the case for everything else, my love life has only ever been a neverending trail of heartbreak and misery. Middle school crushes, high school prom dates...I've even fallen out with the mother of my daughter, and we used to be pretty good friends in college! Nothing but a trail of failure and disappointment on both our halves...but mostly on mine.

"Recently, I have found myself fallen for this, ah, another candidate." Here, Perry notices another two things; one, the deliberate, albeit curious avoidant of pronouns, and on two, how the man pointedly avoiding his eye.

Both facts which contribute to a hopeful skip to his heart rate... completely inappropriate to his circumstances. This was not the time to be daydreaming.

(Nevermind that he had never had an indication of where Hein swung, in a sense, and how some implications were really opening things up for him.)

Heinz was still monologuing, naturally. "Which might even be a case more impossible than the last. I mean, we're ideologically opposed in most, if not all our moral grounds, and he's...God, he's too good for me, too much better looking. Way out of my league, it'll be like-like shooting for the moon, except I've already done that successfully multiple times, so-what's more impossible than the moon? Mars? Maybe a distant star of another solar system, maybe the Andromeda. I don't know, one of her fast moving moon systems. It doesn't matter. What I'm trying to say is," Heinz shakes his head, trying to focus. "It's impossible. He's impossible, I've got no chance, and I'm destined for another crash and burn not too far down the line, and being reminded of this stupid holiday makes it even worse, because I don't even know if he's-he's attracted to guys like that, or if he's even single! He could be out there on the arm of some...girlfriend or wife with three kids and I'd never know! Or maybe it would be more merciful if I didn't let myself know--but it doesn't matter," Heinz says vehemently, eyes closed and fists shaking like he's once again forcibly attempting to focus, while Perry wiggles in his trap with his heart in his throat thinking loudly that he had the kids, but not the wife, on account of being apparently and decisively gay and available, if that was at all relevant to certain interested parties.

Read the rest on Ao3

[crimson-kisses]

Heyy, how about an platonic germany and prussia with a younger sibling? Like a micronation or a country!

Thanks for taking your time. we love your content, dont forget to rest!! 🌷🌷

Aw thank you so much for the lovely kind words :’) lifts my spirits up fr - I believe this concept has been done already, but nonetheless I will try and keep this rather short and simple. 🌻

Warnings: yandere themes, toxic relationships and the like.

Guidance

Perhaps you are a small protectorate state situated between Switzerland and Germany or between Austria and Germany. The region you represent is nestled amidst the aftermath of a war-ravaged battlefield, a testament to the turmoil that has unfolded. It is within this backdrop that Gilbert and Ludwig, two German brothers, stumble upon you, a young child in need of protection.

Recognizing the fragility of your situation, both Gilbert and Ludwig take it upon themselves to safeguard you. Gilbert, with a sense of duty and compassion, becomes your primary caretaker, ensuring your well-being and providing the nurturing support that you require. His presence brings a sense of warmth and stability, assuring you that you are not alone in this world.

Ludwig, on the other hand, takes a more reserved approach initially, keeping a watchful eye from the sidelines. His role extends beyond your immediate care, as he assumes the responsibility of handling any diplomatic tensions that may arise due to your presence. Aware of the delicate nature of political relationships in the region, Ludwig acts as a mediator, striving to maintain a delicate balance and protect the interests of your small state.

Both brothers understand the importance of their roles and the need to balance each other out. Gilbert's nurturing nature and hands-on approach provide you with a sense of security and guidance, while Ludwig's diplomatic prowess and watchful eye ensure the stability and political viability of your protectorate.

As time passes, Gilbert and Ludwig grow more attuned to the challenges and responsibilities that come with protecting you. They strive to provide you with the best possible future amidst the backdrop of the war-torn region.

Gilbert takes on the role of a tough mentor, providing discipline and rigorous tutoring. He has an obnoxious side to him, but he believes in pushing you to reach your full potential. He sets high standards and expects you to meet them, sometimes pushing you outside of your comfort zone. While his methods might be strict, they are aimed at helping you grow and succeed.

On the other hand, Ludwig, despite also being strict, has a gentler approach compared to his elder brother. He recognizes the importance of balance and ensures that you have time to relax and unwind. Ludwig understands the need for affection and emotional support, even if he finds it awkward to express it himself. He creates a safe space for you, where you can find solace and feel cared for.

As you grow older, Gilbert begins to loosen up his strict demeanor. He sees your progress and development, and he becomes more supportive and encouraging. He realizes that while discipline is important, it's equally important to have an environment that allows you to thrive and feel supported.

Both Gilbert and Ludwig work together to shield you from the feeling of isolation. They go above and beyond to ensure that you never truly feel alone. They create a sense of belonging and make you feel part of a loving and nurturing family, despite the challenges and isolation that may surround your small territory.

While you may not fully grasp the extent of your isolation, it is because Gilbert and Ludwig actively work to shield you from it. They make sure that you have a support system and a sense of belonging, so that you can grow and flourish in your unique circumstances. Their combined efforts create an environment where you can thrive, even in the face of isolation.

Gilbert also takes on the role of keeping you occupied with various activities, often in a random and chaotic manner. He teaches you different things and shares altered visions of what he considers necessary for you to know.

Ludwig, on the other hand, assumes the responsibility of handling more manipulative tasks. He deals with any external threats or individuals who might be prying too much into your affairs. Ludwig ensures that the surveillance technology in place is functioning properly, protecting your privacy and security.

Gilbert's focus is primarily on your education and keeping you engaged. He creates an environment of constant stimulation and learning, even if it may seem chaotic at times. Meanwhile, Ludwig works behind the scenes, safeguarding your interests and ensuring that your privacy is protected.

While their approaches may differ, Gilbert and Ludwig collaborate to provide a balance of education and protection. Gilbert's random and chaotic activities keep you on your toes, fostering a sense of curiosity and adaptability. Ludwig's surveillance and protective measures ensure that you are shielded from external threats and unwanted intrusions.

Gilbert and Ludwig provide you with a unique upbringing, where you are constantly learning, protected, and shielded from excessive interference. Their combined efforts create an environment where you can grow and develop, while also maintaining control.

Ludwig makes sure to keep reminding you of your young age, often making you feel anxious and worried about potential dangers in the world. He subtly plays with your mind, gently coaxing you to think negatively and suspiciously about your surroundings, it also brings about unease within you.

Despite this, Ludwig also provides you with an outlet for conversation, allowing you to discuss any topic you desire. Similar to Gilbert, he possesses a wealth of knowledge and diverse interests, which proves beneficial when you express your own interests. Ludwig's vast knowledge allows for engaging discussions and opportunities for you.

Ludwig's approach is tinged with a level of mental manipulation, the constant reminder of your vulnerability and the negative perspective he encourages fills you anxiety and a sense of distrust.

Both Gilbert and Ludwig still play significant roles in your upbringing. Gilbert keeps you occupied with various activities and teaches you, while Ludwig's conversations and knowledge expand your horizons.

Both of them provide you with access to various forms of entertainment and resources, such as books, movies, PlayStation, and games. They ensure that you have a means to satisfy your wants and desires within reasonable limits. While you won't be completely cut off from the outside world, they encourage a level of dependence on them for your wants and needs.

By carefully managing your access to resources and creating an environment where they fulfill most, if not all, of your wants and needs, Gilbert and Ludwig foster a sense of reliance on them. They want you to view them as the primary providers and caretakers, ensuring that you turn to them for support and assistance.

All of you will have a house in the countryside, providing a sense of isolation from the outside world. They allocate a significant portion of the house to you, allowing you the freedom to shape it according to your preferences. They encourage you to make the space your own, to design and decorate it to your liking.

Within the boundaries that they establish for your safety and well-being, Gilbert and Ludwig happily support your decisions and desires for the house. Whether it's choosing the colors, arranging the furniture, or adding personal touches, they want you to feel a sense of ownership and comfort in your living space.

Since this scenario is set in modern times, it is likely that the relationship between you, Gilbert, and Ludwig would indeed have a lighthearted tone due to your young age, given your upbringing and the support provided by Gilbert and Ludwig.

Gilbert, as the caring and affectionate figure, would likely engage in various activities with you, such as games, adventures, or creative projects. He would create a cheerful and nurturing environment, where adventures are common occurrences. His goal would be to ensure that you have an enjoyable experience.

Ludwig, while potentially more reserved, would still find ways to interact with you in a lighthearted manner. He might encourage intellectual pursuits, engage in stimulating conversations, or introduce you to new experiences. Despite his serious nature, he would recognize the importance of fostering easement within you.

Though as you grow older, you might begin to question certain aspects of your upbringing and notice differences between your life and that of others. You may wonder why some of your friends are suddenly missing and why you don't attend school with other kids. You might also notice that you don't have the same possessions or experiences as your peers, leading to feelings of curiosity, confusion, frustration or a sense of missing out.

Your dear brothers are fully aware of the confusion you are experiencing and have already prepared to have a conversation with you when you turn to them crying about it. Always running to them for support and affection.

You truly were so naive, just as they preferred you to be.