#but either way...she causes harm.

[pariaritzia]

Queerness in Indian Media

↳Film: GEELI PUCCHI from AJEEB DAASTAANS (2021, Hindi), dir. NEERAJ GHAYWAN

The short film Geeli Pucchi follows Bharti (Konkona Sen Sharma), a Dalit gender non-conforming lesbian who works in a factory and aspires to a desk job in the upstairs office. She befriends Priya (Aditi Rao Hydari), a Brahmin lesbian who is trapped in a heterosexual marriage and who gets the desk job that Bharti is denied because of her caste. The bond between the two women grows quickly, but everything takes a turn when Bharti confesses the truth of her caste to Priya.

Neeraj Ghaywan discusses caste, gender, sexuality, and his approach to making this short film here.

Konkona Sen Sharma's statement on having a "completely neutral" gender identity, not "woman or a man", here.

[s0merand0midi0t]

Blake: *Slightly shakes Yang*...Yang?

Yang: *Wakes up* Huh- Yeah?

Blake, in a soft voice: If there was a zombie apocalypse, and I got bit,...would you shoot me?

Yang: *Chuckles* Bee no, I-I'd let you bite me, so we could be zombies together!...

Blake, in her normal speaking voice: *laughing* That's fucking stupid, I'd blow your fucking head off in a heartbeat! You would NOT survive!

[deus-ex-mona]

such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨

[dutybcrne]

More Kae thoughts on him being a parent—deffo would have his hand forced to actually tell sb about his Khaenri’ahn heritage and especially the ties his family has to the Abyss Order, bc the last thing he needs is for the Order to interfere with his life/get ahold of his kid for one reason or another. Preferably the revelation would be for a partner bc they’re easier to trust, but if he’s single at the time, then Noelle or Lisa would be most in the know alongside Adelinde.

[pewcat2]

there is something so gender affirming about writing about yourself in a professional sense and feeling comfortable about switching pronouns throughout the entire blurb

[fungi-maestro]

The Question #5 (1987)

[enslaughts]

regarding. . .          jacob black + obsessive compulsive disorder.

as you’d expect,  control is a big aspect of any werewolf’s personality. it’s borderline essential to most werewolf characteristics if one wants to interact cohesively with the rest of the world.     however,  jacob handles his own sudden,  un - anticipated lycanthropy with far less grace than most others he knows.     overnight,  jacob’s entire life is turned upon its head without his consent,   accompanied by the trauma of his first shift and what it means to be a werewolf at all,  the cushion to all of it is a man he’d been so suspicious of,  pulling friends and acquaintances bit by bit away from their previous lives until they’re no longer familiar.     it’s a lot,  on top of the everyday stresses that come with his life already,  as well as his more recent investment in helping bella cope with her own demons along the way.     his life is suddenly dangerous and unfamiliar in every place he needs it to feel safe and secure.     his actions themselves and even his own feelings are suddenly so untethered from the person he spent all his life becoming,  they barely feel like his anymore.

there are two main components to most anxiety disorders.  the given anxiety itself ;  specifically,  the initial process of something causing distressing,  persistent anxiety, and then often the resulting dysfunctional behaviors that reduce the anxiety. ocd itself can have noteworthy  ‘ types ’ :  cleaning and contamination,  symmetry and ordering,  forbidden or harmful thoughts and impulses,  and hoarding.     because jacob’s symptoms lie most in the ordering and thoughts / impulses category,  i will only be going over these two in this headcanon.

ordering  :  a big part of jacob’s anxiety is over control, moreover the lack of it.     the feeling that he does not belong to himself.     his thoughts and feelings are shared with an entire pack of other people when he’s a wolf.     his future partner is borderline, if not entirely guaranteed, to be someone he won’t get to choose,  but instead his brain will choose for him,  which in of itself isn’t nearly as terrifying as the prospect that he won’t even be able to choose for himself how he gets to feel about it,  that even his right to forming his own thoughts will be robbed of him.     shifting into a creature that’s just as powerful as it is deadly is something that can happen to him at the drop of a hat,  at any moment,  as long as his emotions behave even remotely in their own accord,  which, is how emotions tend to work.     

this is one of jacob’s obsessions,  and what helps to reduce this is to meticulously keep track of and control what he needs to believe is his.     naturally,  this means most of this meticulousness is reserved for his own things ;  his room,  his belongings,  his clothes,  his hair.     everything has to be a certain way now,  because in everything he does,  there's now a desperate need to keep hold of it,  a compensation to the thought that he's going to lose it all.     everything in his room and garage has it’s place,  deliberate and intentional to the point that if someone touches or grabs at one of his things,  even if it’s to simply look and set back down,  his anxiety spikes and he will one hundred percent hover,  escalating - ly irritable until he can personally return it to it’s rightful spot. another habit to reduce this feeling is being deliberate and habitual with his own body.     routines like morning jogs,  or the time in which he showers or wakes up,  are opportunities to own his own physical actions.     if outside any of specific routine of his,  counting his own steps is an accessible method to achieve the same sense of security within his own actions.     brushing or braiding his hair is also helpful and another reason why he doesn’t want it cut,  as well as the permeating desire to remain as himself as he was before he was a werewolf.

thoughts  and impulses  :  this one’s honestly the doozy of the two.     actions are worrisome and the impulse part of the two,  but the idea that his own thoughts aren’t his is foundationally distressing to his sense of autonomy.     with being part animal comes the instincts of one—   the instincts of a predator at that ;  to hunt,  to prioritize and optimize survival,  to respond to fear with violent self defense or complete concession,  to obtain security through physical feats.     most of these behaviors are a direct contrast to his personality before his first shift.     the person he thought he was and wanted to be was generous,  thoughtful,  nurturing,  warm, to fix things and to thrive,  to do things just because,  no personal survival or reward necessary,  no need to compete in the ongoing power struggle of nature.     that’s not to say wolves don’t participate in any of these qualities—   in fact,  jacob knows real wolves’ behaviors aren’t that black and white or brutal.     [ funnily enough,  this fear - fueled black and white thinking can be more alike to the animal instincts he’s desperately trying to avoid ]     it’s the anxiety of the shift itself being something he doesn’t get a say in,  that it’s completely at the whim of fickle,  moment to moment,  fluid and irrational emotions.     that anxiety only ever snowballs any stress he might already feel that could prompt a shift.     anger that would otherwise be fleeting becomes fear that his mind can’t stop obsessing over until he can soothe it somehow,  assure him that he is in control,  and that he won’t hurt anyone unless he himself decides to.

unfortunately,  one of the quickest and easiest ways to stop a shift is pain.     intense pain interrupts the self defense mechanism of shifting to prioritize the healing process instead.     if ever jacob feels like he’s genuinely on the verge of an unintentional shift,  the quick snap of an arm over his knee or clamp of the jaws into his hand is usually enough to short - circuit the process,  moreso if the shift has already come  and gone before he could stop it.     pain becomes soothing,  an act he feels the benefit of choosing,  as well as controlling a shift and ensuring that if someone is to suffer for his lack of control,  it will be him alone,  and it will be his decision. another far less damaging coping method is to just. . . ask someone for help.  this is rather simple,  but it requires far more patience and awareness than breaking his own bones,  as well as admitting out loud to others something he’s deemed a moral failing of his,  a personal defect.  even just asking someone to remind him who he was is can be grounding,  which is something he would have learned the moment bella responded to the voicing of his fear of losing himself with reassurance that he just wouldn’t,  that she’d be there to remind him,  whenever he needed,  that she simply wouldn’t let it happen.     that confidence in ones own ability is something he envies as well as hopes to believe in,  even if it’s childish,  even if it’s vicariously through whoever gives it, if he trusts them enough for it to mean something to him.     group activities that engage his sense of self before monsters existed offer a dual calm,  one instilled by doing the activity itself,  another by having someone else to verify and confirm his own behavior to him just by being there to respond to the familiar,  human jacob that always existed before he ever had a reason to question it.

a tragic irony is that when jacob is a wolf,  most of these anxieties evaporate immediately and get replaced with a simpler experience of reality.     instincts sharpen the world,  narrow it to focus,  refine actions and reactions to the present moment in which fear is much harder to conceive,  as fear by nature is based on theoretical what - ifs.     eventually,  a healthier way to experience his own lycanthropy would be to accept all aspects of himself,  both human and wolf,  but with the entire invasion of the supernatural into his life so fresh,  he’s desperate to cling to his own personhood,  which is very much steeped in the version of him that didn’t even know werewolves existed,  much less that he was one and what it means.

there’s no room to learn what kind of werewolf jacob black wants to be when he doesn’t feel like that’s something he ever got to choose,  or ever will.     and so,  it remains something to fear,  which means it remains something he cannot control.

[neverendingford]

.

[heritageposts]

By Ahmad Ibsais, First generation Palestinian American and law student.

I do not blame Benjamin Netanyahu. I do not blame the Israeli prime minister for what is happening to my people. I do not blame him today, as Israeli bombs destroy every corner of Gaza, and children die under the rubble. I did not blame him back in 2013, when I had to watch the slaughter of my people in Gaza on the evening news, either. My mother did not blame him when snipers perched on rooftops shot at her as she tried to make her way to work in the West Bank. My grandfather, God rest his soul, did not blame him as he died without ever returning to the land settlers stole from him in the 1980s, either. For me, for my family, for my people, what we are witnessing in Palestine today is not “Netanyahu’s war”. It is not his occupation. He is nothing but another cog in the relentless war machine that is Israel. Yet if you were to ask senators Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren, the supposed champions of Palestinian rights and progressive humanitarianism in the United States, everything that has happened to us in the past 75 years, and everything that is happening to us today, can be blamed on one man, and one man alone: Netanyahu. Sanders insistently calls the ongoing Israeli assault on Gaza “Netanyahu’s war”, and demands that the US “not give Netanyahu another nickel”. Meanwhile, Warren denounces “Netanyahu’s failed leadership” as she calls for a ceasefire. For these progressive senators, the cause of all the pain and suffering in Palestine is clear: a far-right, hawkish prime minister hell-bent on continuing a conflict that keeps him in power. Sure, Netanyahu is evil. Sure, he committed countless crimes against Palestinians and against humanity, throughout his long career. Sure, he is continuing to fuel the carnage in Gaza today in part for his own political survival. And he should be held accountable for everything he has said and done that caused harm and pain to my people. But the racism, extremism and genocidal intent that is on display in Gaza and across the occupied Palestinian territory today cannot and should not be blamed on Netanyahu alone. Blaming Israel’s blatant human rights abuses, disregard for international law, and open celebration of war crimes on Netanyahu alone is nothing but a coping mechanism for liberals like Sanders and Warren. By blaming Netanyahu for the suffering and oppression of the Palestinian people, past and present, they keep alive the lie that Israel was built on progressive ideals, rather than ethnic cleansing. By blaming Netanyahu, they whitewash their seemingly unconditional support for a state blatantly committing war crimes and crimes against humanity. By blaming Netanyahu, and casting Israel as a progressive, well-meaning state that would respect international humanitarian law but is currently taken over by a bad leader, they are absolving themselves – and the US at large – of complicity in Israel’s many war crimes.

. . . continues on Al Jazeera (7 Mar 2024)

[thewritetofreespeech]

Cooler Heads Will Prevail

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: it's too hot to do anything in the States. Except apparently write Aemond x Reader smut about how it's too hot.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, sex outdoors, aemond speaking High Valyrian cause it's sexy, Vhagar being sassy in the background. 

----------------------------------⚔��-----------------------------------------

“Gods how can you stand to wear that?”

You felt ten times hotter just looking at your husband, dressed in his traditional black & leathers, as he sat next to you while you baked in this heat. Even with all the windows and curtains open, dressed in the thinnest dress that modesty could cling to, and servants fanning you both like Dornish aristocracy, you still felt like you were melting.

“It is all a matter of perspective, my dear wife.” Aemond replied. Not looking up from his book. “And will power.”

You groan and drop your own book, spreading out as far as your limbs would go on the chaise. You despised these hot summers. Everything was hot. Everything you touched, including yourself, was sticky. You felt like every breath was drawing in more hot air, which in turn made you hotter, and considerably cranky. It was too hot to do anything.

Aemond glanced up at you with his good eye, then closed his books. The servants scatter when the prince stood. Taking away what little precious, if fruitless, relief you had. “Are you really that miserable?” He asked, leaning over you with one arm pressed against the back of the chaise.

“Just look at me.”

“I am.” His mouth coiled into a smirk as he leaned further down to kiss you.

But you turn your head away with an unsatisfied huff. “It’s too hot.” Though you loved Aemond unconditionally, apparently it had its limits. He’d have to wait until the sun went down, at the very least, before you would consider touching him.

The prince huffed. “Fine. Get up.”

You didn’t have time to ask Aemond why before he was grabbing your hand and hoisting you to your feet. Dragging you along behind him as you tried to keep up with his impressive gait thanks to those long legs.

Your protests & questions stopped halfway through your journey, and Aemond finally let your hand go once the two of you reached the Dragonpit. Vhagar’s indominable frame taking up most of the space a lotted to her as she coolly acknowledged her rider then settled back down. “What are we doing here?”

“Leaving the city.” Aemond was already mounting Vhagar. Settled into her saddle before he reached out to you with his hand.

You often dreamed of being a dragon rider. To be up in the skies. To command giants. But you didn’t have the blood for it. Instead, you just admired them from afar. “I thought you said Vhagar didn’t like secondary riders.”

“Vhagar does not like any rider but me.” He clarified. “But she will not harm you. Trust me.”

You did trust Aemond. Still, you glance over to Vhagar, looking into her giant eye for permission, who looked back at you for a long moment before she blinked with her inner lid and turned her gaze from you. You took that as a yes and grabbed Aemond’s hand.

He hoisted you up into the saddle with ease. Seating you in front of him. His legs on either side of you as he fastened you both to the harness before taking the reins. “sōvēs Vhagar.”

The dragon rose from her seat. Seeming annoyed about it, but you couldn’t be sure. She took three long strides before her wings were aloft and you were up in the air. You close your eyes tight. Gripping Aemon’s thighs on either side as you felt your stomach try to drop all the way back to the ground. “Open your eyes.” Aemond’s voice brushed against your ear, louder than the rushing air around you. You do as he says. With one at first, then opening both to see the beautiful bright sky around you and white, fluffy clouds. It was breath taking.

You aren’t brave enough to look down, but after a while Aemond shouted, “tegot Vhagar,” and the dragon circled around a patch of Earth before gracefully hurling itself towards it.

When you landed Aemond undid your bindings and jumped down. He held his arms out towards you, waiting for you to jump, and easily caught you when you fell into his open arms. “Where are we Aemond?”

The prince shrugged, “somewhere North.” That was all he said before he stalked off into the woods past the clearing.

You look around and admire the beauty of the small forest, before you follow after your husband. Vhagar seemed fine on her own to resume her nap while you both went on your walk to wherever Aemond was going. “Aemond, what are we doing here?”

“You said you were hot.” He told you. In a tone that implied ‘we just talked about this’ as he cut through the path.

“Yes. But why are we here?” It was significantly cooler, but still summer. The balminess of the city had been replaced with the natural humidity of the trees. One evil for a lesser one.

Aemond didn’t answer this time and instead pushed past the last of the greenery to reveal a second clearing. Sun dappled, with trees and flowers circling a natural freshwater pond, in a perfect idyllic scene. “Gods…It’s beautiful.”

“We did not come all this way just to look at it.”

You turn to Aemond to see him already unbuttoning his jerkin. “You cannot be serious.” Apparently, he was, as he was already tossing his jerkin aside and pulling off his under tunic. “Aemond?? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

“Exactly. No one will find us.” His belt, boots, and pants quickly made it into the pile. His small clothes next. Then finally his eye patch. “Are you coming or not?” You stare at Aemond, a little slack jawed, as he stood there completely naked. As if you were the crazy one for not joining him.

Fingers carefully come up to your lacings. Fumbling with the strings as your embarrassment makes the digits unable to cooperate properly. Aemond was right, no one would see you. But this was still the first time you had been naked ‘in public’. Ladies did not go around the world in the nude. Although, apparently, a Targaryen’s woman did.

Aemond grinned as he watched you let loose your dress, then walked backwards a few paces before he turned and walked over to one of the rocks. Standing on it, like some Valyrian statue, before he jumped in. You were not nearly as brave, and shyly stepped into the water from its calm shore with your hands protecting your modesty.

The water was like ice on your overheated skin, but it felt so good! You let out a sigh and relax. Sinking neck deep into the water as you pulled your knees to your chest to float. “Feeling better?” You turn to look at Aemond as he swam up to you. His long hair floating behind him like a silver net. Looking more triton than dragon at the moment. You offer him a soft smile and nod.

The prince smiled back. Then he floated to his center before he stood, able to reach the bottom and have the water just barely brush past his navel. “Can I kiss you now?”

You looked up at Aemond, who was looking back down at you, waiting for an answer. Your smile broadens and you release your knees to stand on your own feet as well. The water just barely kissing your breasts in comparison. “Yes Aemond, you can kiss me.”

He looked so pleased. As if all this effort was worth it as he took your chin in his fingers to tilt your lips to his. You moan at the first contact of his tongue against yours. Hells…how long had it been since you kissed him properly.

You had not been joking when you said it was too hot to do anything. That included laying with your husband. Though you shared the same bed, the most you had done for the past weeks was brief kisses & touches before shunting off to your separate corners of the mattress. Desperate not to add anymore heat to your person.

Now that you were cooled off, a renewed heat was swelling up inside you. “Aemond…”

The man in question pulled back just a hair’s breadth to look at you. The hand once tilting up your chin now brushing water droplets from your cheek. “I have missed you, issa jorrāelagon.”

“I know.” And you felt guilty for that. “I’ve missed you too.” Together seperately had been the way things had been with this heat. But now you were somewhere cool, calm, and secluded with your husband.

You latch on to Aemond like a drowning man. His body your life raft. His kiss your air. He pulled you in with equal fervor and you felt his longing press against your belly. Hot and hard, despite the cold water. “Aemond…” You gasp again. Intentionally brushing against him to feel more of his manhood and eager to have not against your belly but inside it. “Please…”

The prince growled and kissed you again. His teeth nipping possessively at your lips this time, before he pulled you into his arms and wrapped your legs around him. Carrying you out of the water with ease and laying you on the soft grass that would be your marriage bed for the afternoon.

Aemond continued to kiss you. Letting you go for a moment before peppering your lips, face, and neck with more kisses. As if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do next with you. “You should be like this at all times.”

“Underneath you?” You respond cheekily.

“Naked.” He corrected. Your head tipping back as his arm slipped betwixt you and his fingers began toying with your sex. “You wouldn’t be so hot. And we would no longer have to deal with those ridiculous laces.”

“I don’t think your mother would appreciate such a ‘casual’ manner of dress at court.” You gasp sharply as two of Aemond’s fingers suddenly slipped inside you. Clearly a diversion in the conversation as he doesn’t want to talk about his mother right now.

“Hmmm…it is probably for the best. I’d gouge out the eye of any man who would look at you besides me. Then I would no longer be unique.”

“Certainly less fashionable.” Another sharp gasp escapes you as Aemond’s fingers curled up inside you against that spot that made you see stars. Silently telling you that if you didn’t stop with the cheek you were going to get it. ‘Good’ you thought.

His fingers continued to work you open as his mouth swallowed your cries. “Aemond!” You shouted when his thumb brushed against your pearl. Pushing at his shoulders while your legs shook at the intense feeling, but he wouldn’t stop. He let you go long enough to let your climax cry come out clearly. Loud and pure. Birds fluttering off in the distance that were startled by the sound.

“You’re so beautiful when you quake for me.”

“Only you.”

Your hand came up to stroke his face. Hard lines. Soft expression. Your fingertip brushes against just the end of his scar before trailing down to flick his bottom lip. Red and swollen from your kissing. Vibrant against his cool, alabaster skin. Perfect.

“Make me quake for you again my love.” Your legs splayed wide for him. Making space for him and his cock in your drooling cunt.

Aemond doesn’t have to be told anything twice and he descended on you. Lining up his cock, pushing it inside you with coiled control just waiting to snap, waiting there until you were ready. You let him know you were ready by jutting your hips a bit. Your prince looking at your face for a moment to make sure before that coiled control snapped clean.

The two of you rut in the forest like animals. Grunting and moaning and the wet sound of slapping skin. Aemond spread your legs wider for him. Letting him thrust harder and deeper into you. Your head fell back against the damp grass. The sweet smell mixed with your sweat making you dizzy while the sharp climb towards a second climax made you lightheaded.

You will your eyes open to look at Aemond. His eye fixed only on you. Almost completely black like the stories portrayed him. Black enough that it looked as though it had bled into his sapphire. But this was not the eyes of a monster, but a beast. Your beast. Your one and only, as this look as just for you.

“A-Aemond!” You shout again. Fingers clenched in his wet tresses. Whole body shaking around him this time. Aemond’s teeth clenched to the point they look like they might break before he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His own hips stuttered as his warmth filled you up.

The two of you laid there for a moment. Catching your breath. Sated in one another until Aemond likely feels he’s too heavy for you and rolls off you to the side. “We should head back.”

You turn your head to look at him. Wounded. Did it have to be right now? “The sun will be setting soon. It will not be as hot upon our return.”

You look back up at the sky and indeed see the shadows had gotten longer since your arrival. “Must we?”

Aemond chuckled at your plea. Rolling back over to your side to coil his body around you like a serpent. Head on your shoulder. You know he had missed this almost as much as the other. “Not right now.” He agreed. “But soon. We can come back whenever you’d like though.”

“Tomorrow?” He laughed again.

“Whenever you’d like.”

The two of you bask in the moment and beautiful scenery for a little while longer. Enjoying the cool and the quite before you had to return to the hot and the mayhem. You dress in silence. Then Aemond walked you both back down the path towards his dragon. Vhagar not seeming to notice one way or the other that you’ve been gone.

The heat hits you instantly once you break the perimeter of the city. Cooler than before but still sweltering. “I’m going to take a cool bath before bed.” You tell your prince as he gave his dragon a few goodbye pet before he left her for the day. “Care to join me?”

Only one thing could pull Aemond’s attention away from his dragon, and he turned to look over his shoulder at you with a smug grin. “Missing me already, issa jorrāelagon.”

“Oh yes.” You playfully agree as you walk backwards when Aemond came close. “I don’t know. Something about dragon riding puts me in the mood for….‘dragon riding’.”

The true rider grinned and closed the gap between you with quick ease. “Why do you think I seem never to want to keep my hands off you?” He pulled you in for a new kiss. Passionate, yes, but not nearly as fierce as before. You were back in the walls. Back in your cages. You had to be restrained lest other people talked. Because gods forbid a man & a wife actually fancied each other. He let you go and it was your turn to lead Aemond by the hand.

The weather was hot. But summer would eventually break. By the time winter came you intended to know all sorts of new ways to keep warm.

[fatkish]

Imagine a Demon Slayer world with a/b/o dynamics. Omegas are extremely scarce due to centuries of demon predation. Omegas are extremely fertile and are essentially the Marechi of Marechis. Most demons will eat any omegas they come across so the omega population has dwindled down to barely any. Now imagine that the reader is an omega. The reader has hidden their scent from the world and they try to pass off as a beta. They know that demons exist and decide to become a demon slayer because they don’t want to be weak and they want to protect themselves.

There are a few different ways this could go:

1.) Ubuyashiki learns that an Omega has become a demon slayer and somehow manages to survive the final exam. He wishes to protect the Omega so he has them brought to headquarters where he intends to have them become a tsuguko of one of the pillars. Each of the pillars can see through the reader’s attempts to pass as a beta and are not fooled. Each has different opinions about an Omega fighting and each wants to instinctively look after the omega.

Tengen would want the reader to become his 4th mate and would probably be against the reader fighting.

Rengoku knows that omegas are physically weaker than alphas and betas and although he admires their desire for strength, he wishes to have them not fight.

Gyomei weeps for reader, saddened by the fact that they feel so unsafe that they needed to become a demon slayer and hopes that they will let him keep them safe and prays for the reader’s safety.

Shinobu would probably think that although admirable, what the reader is doing is foolish but that she’s probably the best teacher for the reader.

Sanemi is livid and completely against the notion of an omega fighting. He thinks the reader is a fool and is going to get themselves killed.

Obanai isn’t much different from Samemi as he greatly doubts the reader’s ability to fight.

Mitsuri is both saddened and happy to meet the reader. She wants the reader to be her tsuguko cause they’re just so cute.

Muichiro doesn’t really have any opinions because he hasn’t even presented yet and because he’s probably forgotten about presentations all together.

Giyuu is worried for the reader and wishes that he could protect them even though he believes he isn’t strong enough.

Despite what they all believe, the reader would choose whoever they want and would learn under them. As the reader is being taught by their chosen pillar, they develop feelings for them and vise versa, thus, a relationship is born.

2.) the other way that this could go is that the reader unfortunately runs into one of two upper moons. Either Kokushibo or Akaza. Or possibly the demon king himself.

Akaza refuses to eat women so I’d headcannon that he’d also refuse to eat omegas. Seeing the reader’s fighting spirit, Akaza decides to teach the omega how to fight and protect themselves. During this time, he develops feelings for the reader and vows to protect them. They both eventually form a relationship and become mates.

Kokushibo would probably find the reader weak and pitiful. In his day and age, omegas were revered and sought after. Although he has probably eaten some, for whatever reason, he chooses not to eat the reader. As time passes, he follows the reader instinctively and protects them from harm. Eventually he saves them from a demon and gives in and starts to teach the reader. Eventually a relationship would form between the two and they would become mates.

Now Muzan has no issue with eating omegas. But he has always been curious as to what would happen if an omega were turned into a demon. Would they be strong or weak? When he comes across the reader he decides to try and charm the reader. The reader wouldn’t be fooled and Muzan would either try to convince the reader to become a demon or he’d threaten to eat them. The reader, seeing no other way out, agrees to become a demon. Once the reader is turned, they are incredibly powerful due to being an omega. Muzan is impressed and decides to take the reader with him so he can learn more. After spending time around the reader, he may develop feeling for them and make them his mate.

Below are the links to my Demon Slayer a/b/o writings

[just-jordie-things]

clean little secret - itadori yuji

word count: 7.4k warnings: none! summary: yuji and (y/n) are keeping a secret from the others... yuji loves to be pampered by her. more info: tooth rotting fluff, crushing, friends to lovers

for stef <3 ___

Itadori Yuji wasn’t one for keeping secrets.  For one, he believed they often caused more harm than good.  So unless it was a surprise party, he had no interest in them.  Even if Nobara swore it was a particularly juicy piece of information, Yuji had no problem covering his ears with his hands and walking in the other direction.  And for two, well, he just wasn’t that great at keeping them, and after a few accidental slips, he’d decided to keep himself secret free.

Of course, the dirty little secret he had of his own didn’t count.  But it wasn’t like any harm could come of it… he was pretty sure… so long as (y/l/n) (y/n) didn’t let it slip either.

“So whaddya say?” Nobara’s unusually chipper voice drew Itadori back to the present conversation with the tell-tale hum of a boy that hadn’t listened to a thing she’d said.

Megumi briefly rolls his eyes, (y/n) lets out a short giggle that she quickly stifles behind her hand, and Nobara places her hands on her hips as she turns towards the pink haired sorcerer with a frown.

“Do you want to go see that movie tonight or not?” She asks him pointedly, as if she hadn’t spent the last few minutes coming up with a whole plan for picking up snacks and sneaking them into the theater.

“Oh!” Realization dawns on Yuji in the form of a bright grin, but Nobara’s hope is quickly deflated when he shakes his head.  “No, I can’t, sorry” 

Before the redhead could strangle him for getting her hopes up with his stupid smile, Megumi’s backing out too, and her attention is quickly swiveled towards (y/n), who had suspiciously kept her expression behind her hand.

“Sorry, Nobara,” She lowers her hand to reveal her frown.  “I can’t tonight either.  But maybe this weekend?” She tries to compromise, but it appears Nobara was already defeated by the sting of a triple rejection.

“Fine, whatever, this weekend,” She mumbles, hoping a pouty lip would be the final straw to convince her friends.  When no one moves, her expression returns to its usual resting bitch face and she turns to leave.  “But if the groupchat is as dead as your energy later, then I’m going with Maki instead!” She hollers.

That was close, Yuji thought to himself as the group dispersed and he hurriedly made his way down the hall.  Luckily this time, Nobara didn’t shake him down to interrogate him into telling her what better things he could have to do for the evening.  God, that could’ve gotten embarrassing.

After a quick stop by his dorm to change out of his uniform, Yuji made sure the halls were clear before he booked it across the building, moving as fast as he could while keeping his steps as quiet as possible, before he slid to a stop in front of her door.

With two quick but rhythmic knocks, her door slid open, and (y/n) peeked out, eyeing both directions of the hall around Yuji to make sure no one was around to see her let him in.

“You’re sure no one followed you?” She whispers, finally meeting his eyes.

Yuji shook his head confidently.  Her lips broke into a grin so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled.

“Well then get in here already!” She says with hushed excitement, grabbing him by the front of his tee shirt and pulling him inside, closing the door behind him in one swift movement.

Yuji seats himself at the end of her bed while she grabs her phone off her desk, scrolling through an abundance of spotify playlists before settling on just the right one.

“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this” She tells him, effectively turning his cheeks pink.

“Yeah, me too” He agrees, hoping his nerves aren’t too obvious in his voice.

“I’ve been dying to show you what I just got for christmas” She adds, practically skipping into the bathroom to retrieve a decently sized plastic basket full of products Yuji can’t even recognize.  She has to carry it over to him with both hands, and he knows he should probably be intimidated by what they’re about to do, but he doesn’t.

As (y/n) drags him into her tiny bathroom to set up the array of items, she lists off each one as she shows him.  Hydrating mask, lip mask, eyelash serum, somehow it all sounds relaxing and terrifying all at once, but he trusts her, so he nods along to each one.  She seems delighted enough just to show off her little collection of products, so Yuji’s determined to match her excitement.

Truthfully, Yuji had never touched anything like this.  Sometimes he moisturized his hands when they got dry in the colder seasons, but he wouldn’t say he knew a thing about skincare.  And yet, one afternoon while walking with (y/n) from one class to another, he found himself getting carried away telling her how he was trying to take better care of himself and he wanted to establish a proper skincare routine.  Before he knew it he was agreeing to being pampered by her- on the condition that it remained secret.

Now remember, one of Yuji’s very few rules of life included the simple act of not keeping secrets.  But that day he’d agreed to her condition without a moment of hesitation.  He could understand why she didn’t want the others knowing that she was going to give him special treatment, seeing as Nobara had been begging to give everyone makeovers since she’d arrived at Jujutsu Technical College.

While he’s not disappointed in his plan for the afternoon, Yuji does feel incredibly out of place in her bathroom.  The dorms were small enough, and the bathrooms barely had room for one person to move around comfortably.  But (y/n) doesn’t seem crowded at all as she rummages through the couple of drawers next to him.

With a grin she retrieves what she’d been looking for- two fluffy headbands held proudly in her hand.

“I got one for you too,” She tells him, bashfully avoiding his eyes as she extends one out to him.  “You’ll want to keep your hair back, the mask can get really sticky” 

Yuji examines the soft baby pink material as if he’d never seen a headband before.  He’s pretty sure he knows how to use it, but just in case, he watches as (y/n) slides hers on first.  It’s not until he sees the ears on top that he checks his again, delighting in the matching cat ears before he pulls it around his neck and puts it on.

“Thanks!” He beams at both of their reflections in her mirror.  He wishes he could take a picture of them, just to have a picture of the two of them wearing the matching accessory, but he knows he can’t risk the others seeing, so for now he settles on memorizing the image.

“You’re welcome,” (y/n) bites the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from getting too goofy, and quickly redirects their attention to the first item on the agenda.  “You’ve really never done a face mask before?” 

“Nope,” Yuji shakes his head, leaning into the counter as he waits for her direction.  “Is it going to hurt?” 

“No!” (y/n) giggles, before beckoning him to hold his hand out as she uncapped the product.  “It’ll feel nice, here, put a little on,” She instructs, squeezing a dollop of green onto his fingers.  She laughs again at his reaction to the color, but he doesn’t question her as he right away rubs it onto his nose.

He had the right idea, but from the way he messily spread it over the bridge of his nose, she could tell he was going to struggle with the application.

“No no, you’re getting it everywh- oh my god don’t put it in your nose!” She squeals as she smacks his hand away, quickly stepping into his space and taking over.

Honestly, Yuji wasn’t trying to get her to do it for him, but as soon as she gently grabs his jaw in one hand while the other is carefully swiping the excess cream off of the tip of his nose, he decides right then and there to surrender.

“I didn’t know, I’ve never done it” He whines, a bit more dramatically than necessary.

“It shows,” She laughs quietly before reaching for the product again to pump more onto her own fingers.  “I can just do it for you, if you want?” She offers.

Yuji smiles and nods gratefully, his heart doing a victory dance in his chest.

“Only if you don’t mind” He tells her, already sitting himself down on her toilet seat so she didn’t have to reach up to his face.  (y/n) fights the urge to roll her eyes at his swiftness in letting her take over.

“I don’t mind,” She shrugs, getting to work applying a generous amount of lime green mask to his cheeks first.  “It’s relaxing to me, actually” 

“Really?” 

“Mhm,” She nodded along, focused on keeping the application even.  “I would’ve loved having a sibling or a cousin or something to do this stuff with,” She tells him.  “I know Nobara would… but… she’s so intense about it sometimes,” She admits, and Yuji hums in agreement.  Nobara was the most passionate person he’d ever met, and it was her greatest strength, but it did freak him out from time to time.  “Not like us” 

The murmured comment sits on his mind longer than it should have.  Not like us, she’d said, filling his insides with the fuzzy, familiar feeling of having something with her that the others didn’t.  This was all his, and she’d said so herself.  They couldn’t possibly understand them the way they understood each other.  

Not like us.  Not like us.  Not like us.

Yuji closes his eyes when her careful fingers spread the mask up the bridge of his nose before she gets started on covering his forehead.

“You do this stuff all the time though?” He asks when there’s too long of pause since he’d last heard her voice.

Not that he could forget what it sounded like, no never, most of Yuji’s day was spent waiting for her to speak, just so he could listen.  Whether she was arguing with Gojo about a ridiculous lesson plan or going on about a conspiracy theory just to get their lunch table riled up, if (y/n) was talking, Yuji had his mouth shut and his ears wide open.  He liked hearing the things she had to say, he liked the way she said them.

And he was learning now that he especially liked when he was the only one she was speaking to, and that if she was standing close, her voice came out in soft murmurs, cautious of the short space between them, and gentle on his ears as it barely echoed off the ceramic tiled walls.

“Maybe not all the time,” She hums thoughtfully.  “But I do it when I can, I try to keep up with it anyways” 

“Well it feels really nice” Yuji mumbled, almost getting sleepy as he grew used to the feeling of her warm fingers spreading the cooling cream on his skin.  (y/n) giggles again, breathy and amused as she watches his shoulders droop downwards.

“Don’t fall asleep on the toilet, Yuji,” She scolds him, but it’s hardly threatening when it’s between strings of giggles as he lazily opens his eyes to look at her.  “You’ll make a mess if you fall and hit your head on the counter” 

“I’d clean it up” He mumbles back in defeat.

“What if you were concussed?” 

“... I’d clean it up later” 

She laughs at his antics just as she’s making her final touches near his temple, spreading the green cream just so, making sure none of it would get stuck to his eyebrow.  With an affirmative nod of her head she steps back to assess her work.  

As sticky, creamy, and unfamiliar as the mask feels, Yuji’s currently grateful that it’s there to cover the way his face heats up under her direct gaze.  He’s always thought that she’s had the softest eyes- doe-like, and sweet, and easy to gaze into- but with every ounce of her attention directly on his face, Yuji starts to sweat a little bit.

His intentions of becoming closer friends through a night of pampering was starting to backfire, and instead the little crush he’d been hiding was now festering.  Bubbling and smoking just under the thinly veiled surface of his restraint.

“You’re all set,” She beams at him, which he easily returns.  “Try not to touch it while I do mine, okay? It’s gotta sit for a while” 

Yuji drops his hand just as he’s about to swipe off a generous streak of cream from his cheek, smiling innocently as (y/n) gives him a warning look before she turns towards her mirror to apply her own mask.

“Serious question, if I eat it, while I throw up?” 

(y/n) pauses mid-smear on her cheek, turning back to Yuji and sweeping her eyes over him to assess if he was actually serious about eating face cream.  He did know it wasn’t guacamole… right? She didn’t need to tell him that… right?

“If you eat it, I’ll be plucking your eyebrows after mine” She settles on a friendly threat.  

Yuji’s lips pinch and she gets back to work on her mask, certain she’d done the trick to keep him sitting still.

“Well that sounds horrifying,” He mumbles.  “But I’m in” 

(y/n) scoffs out of amusement, still focused on her reflection.

“You want me to pluck your eyebrows?” 

“If you’re doing it, then sure,” Yuji shrugs, not thinking twice about agreeing to it.  “It wouldn’t be a complete spa night otherwise” He adds with a grin that she can see from the corner of her eye.

“Well, if you really want…” She mumbles, doubling down her focus on applying her mask.

A part of her had been hoping he wasn’t agreeing to all this pampering just to please her, she hoped he wasn’t dreading the night going forward.  But if he hated it… he wouldn’t be signing himself up for eyebrow plucking… right?

It only takes a few more minutes for her to complete her own mask- she was much faster at applying it to her own face, Yuji noticed.

He also noticed that somehow, she made a face of lime green paste look good.  Which just wasn’t fair.

When Yuji tries to pinpoint when exactly these feelings for her began, his mind becomes a blurry haze of every moment he’s ever shared with her- and honestly, it could have sparked from any one of them.  It tricks him into thinking maybe he’d just… always had feelings for her.

It’s easy being around her, Yuji finds- even though sometimes she leans close enough to show him a video on her phone and it nearly sends him into cardiac arrest- there’s nothing but ease and relaxation in his muscles when she’s around him.  He doesn’t worry about saying the wrong thing- even if she giggles and shakes her head at some of his questions- he basks in her delight until it becomes his own.

Twenty minutes flies by when they’re laughing at memes or talking about the last week of training, and soon they’re scrubbing off the green mask that feels a little crustier than it had when they put it in.

Yuji groans into the bottom of the sink for the ump-teenth time as he scrubs viciously at a part of his jaw where the hardened cream refused to wash off.  (y/n) can’t help but stifle a laugh into the warm washcloth she’s using to pat her face dry, but she can’t leave him hanging, so she politely taps his shoulder to get the boy to give up on washing it off with his hands.

“Let me help” She offers, shoulders still shaking just slightly with her amusement.  

Yuji pouts with frustration when he stands up from the sink, water dripping down his face and all over his shirt, it really is a miracle he didn’t manage to clean up the last of the mask seeing as he got water everywhere in his attempts.

The pout melts away as soon as (y/n’s) stepping closer and gently wiping her washcloth against the resilient speck of green, making it look easy as it glides away under the soft cloth.  She gets it right away, but the tips of her fingers on her free hand still hover over his chin, ready to stabilize his head if he would’ve required another, rougher swipe of the cloth.

“Did ya get it?” Yuji asks hesitantly, unable to read the expression on her face.

But she’s smiling and stepping back in a moment’s notice.

“Yep!” There’s a short, tight sounding laugh that follows.  It’s not like her usual laughter, it sticks out like a sore thumb for someone as attentive as Yuji to pick up on, and he does, but he doesn’t say anything.  “Here, I have a dry washcloth for you” She’s quick to hand him the towel, and even quicker to stop him when he roughly drags the fabric over his face.

Yuji doesn’t catch half the things she’s saying when she snatches the pink cloth from his hands and tells him to sit his ass down before he destroys his pores.  He doesn’t think twice before jokingly asking her what pores are, which sends her on another lecture.  It’s hard to focus on what she’s explaining when she’s so delicately patting his face and neck dry of every last waterdrop.  He’s too busy fighting the urge to close his eyes and melt under the featherlight touch of her palm against his shoulder to give too much of a crap about pores.

Surprisingly, he’s never fallen asleep on the toilet before, but he thinks he could if he sat here and let her pamper him all night.

“... Yuji? Did you hear anything I just said?” 

It takes a few blinks for his vision to focus on her again- her brow is raised and her hands are on her hips now, she’d definitely caught him zoning out.  He hopes playing dumb does the trick.

“Of course,” He nods confidently.  “Pores swell when they’re wet and that’s bad” 

She giggles and rolls her eyes, so he knows his educated guess wasn’t as educated as he thought, but if he got her to laugh he’d take the slight tinge of embarrassment for the greater good of bringing her joy.

God, it was like every minute spent with her only left him craving more.

“Sure,” She drawls out the word in disbelief, but she doesn’t scold him for not paying attention.  It would prove to be too difficult when he’s looking at her with the brightest eyes she’s ever seen.  She would’ve believed he was hanging onto every word had he not opened his mouth.  “So, what next?” 

Yuji peeks at the remaining tubes and bottles on the counter.  He has no clue what he’s looking at of course, and this is obvious when his helpless expression turns back towards her.  To make it easier, (y/n) scoops up two smaller bottles, offering them both for him to choose from.

“Which is which?” He asks, hooking his finger under his chin as he studies each product with skeptical eyes.

“One is for your eyelashes, and the other is for your lips,” (y/n) explains, tilting each towards him as she does.  “We can do both, or neither, up to you” 

“Will it hurt if it gets in my eyes?” He asks, eyes noticeably widened, and she chuckles as she shakes her head.

“Not at all, it’s super easy,” She assures.  “I can show you, if you want?” 

Yuji nods, and that’s how he finds himself standing just a few inches away from her as she leans into the mirror with the small applicator brush in her fingers.  She could remind him that she’s using the mirror for a reason, and he didn’t need to stand so close… but honestly, he smelled nice, and she wasn’t uncomfortable with his close proximity.  In fact, it was actually sort of comforting.

“See?” She hums, brushing the applicator through her lashes over one eye a couple times to make sure all of the serum was evenly spread, before leaning back from the mirror and turning towards him.  “Super easy.  Like mascara” 

“I’ve never told anyone this… but…” Yuji lets out a heavy sigh, and her brows pinch together as she awaits his confession.  “... I’ve never worn mascara” 

“Yuji,” She whines with a roll of her eyes, letting out her own sigh, although hers was filled with humored frustration.  “Shut up,” She finishes weakly when he’s grinning at his own jest.  “Here, do you want to try?” 

“Alright” He takes the tube out of her hand and experimentally pulls the applicator out.  

His curiosity is almost adorable as he holds it close to study it, even though there’s not much to see.  It’s just a little blue bruh with a clear liquid coated over it.  This stuff really makes your lashes grow? He looks back to (y/n), studying her just as closely, until her face starts to turn rosy and she’s looking at him expectantly.  He supposes her eyelashes do look long and pretty… but didn’t they always look like that? Could this stuff really be so good it manages to make an angel like her look prettier?

She has to clear her throat to relieve the nervous tension settling over her the longer he stares at her like this.

“Uh- um, Yuji?” 

“Yeah?” His response seems genuine enough, and (y/n’s) eyes flicker between his and the eyelash serum.  “Oh!” And just as genuine as before, he realizes that her prompts are because he’s been standing and staring for too long.  “My bad,” He apologizes sheepishly, before scooting close to her, the brush extended towards the eye that she hadn’t applied the magic pretty serum to yet.

When she realizes what he’s about to do, her eyes widen and she finds herself grabbing his wrist to halt him on instinct.

“Wait, what are you-?” 

“I thought you wanted me to do the other one?” He answers her question before she could even finish asking it, and she blinks wildly at him.  Had she not been clear? “Do you not want me to?” Yuji asks, already lowering his hand.

“No, it’s- I don’t…” Her head is shaking as she tries to find a way to explain that she’d offered him the product for himself, but she’s backtracking rather quickly as she slowly loosens her hold before pulling her hand away altogether.  “You… you can, if you want” 

She tells him quietly.  It feels like a silly thing to ask him to do, especially when she’s just demonstrated how to use the product moments prior, but now that the offer was on the table, she also wasn’t interested in turning it down.

“Okay,” His smile softens as he tilts the brush towards her face again.  “I promise not to poke your eye out” 

With a giggle she has to focus to keep her gaze tilted up at the ceiling so he can follow through on his promise.  It’s more difficult than she’s ever thought before, keeping her eyes wide open and focused on anything but the boy in front of her.  Yuji takes great care in steadily swiping the brush up through her lashes, working slowly from the outside in.  With how long it takes him, her eye should be watering, but somehow it stays dry, and she doesn’t blink over the applicator.

“You do this every day?” Yuji mumbled, re-steadying the small brush in his fingers as he got closer to the inner part of her eye.  

(y/n) hardly manages a soft hum of affirmation.  She can feel his free hand ghosting under her jaw, as though to keep her in position, however her head is perfectly still and his hold is unnecessary.  Still, his palm waits there.  She’s never felt such a buzz of nervous energy from a lack of a touch.

Yuji finishes up with a smile before popping the brush back into the tube.  He looks like he wants to say something, so she finds herself waiting in silence while she blinks until her eyes feel normal again, but that winds them both up in a minute of no words being exchanged.

This time, it’s not uncomfortable.

“Your turn?” (y/n) offers softly, reaching for the serum in his hand.  Yuji nods, lets her take it, and blinks his eyes excessively to make sure he wouldn’t feel the need to while she was doing her thing.  “You should sit again” She prompts with a gentle push to his shoulder.  It was too awkward of a reach, and would be much easier if he lowered as much of his height as possible.

“Right” He mumbles, backing up to sit down on the toilet seat once more.  He does his best to keep his eyes focused upwards, and wide open, to make it as easy as possible for her.  But what he isn’t expecting is to feel her knees pressing against his as she gets closer, and on instinct he spreads his legs a little wider so she could easily slide into the space.  

He has to keep his grip on his own knees, pressing his fingers into the material of his pants to keep from reaching out to her.  The urge to hold onto her waist- the back of her thighs- pull her closer- is so strong that he gulps.

“Are you nervous having someone get this close to your eyes?” (y/n) mumbles, noticing the shift in his energy.  Yuji swallows again before speaking.

“No- no, it’s alright, go ahead” His voice is as gentle as it is sure, so (y/n) nods back at him, and makes sure the brush is coated with a decent amount of serum before she gets to work.

He knows he’s supposed to keep his gaze upwards, but with her standing so close, leaning in so close, it was hard to keep his eyes from shifting away from the boring tiled ceiling to the much more intriguing sight before him.

“Stay still,” (y/n) murmurs under her breath.  She’s so damn close to him he can feel her cool breath against his cheek.  He manages to follow the instruction for a few more seconds, but soon enough the tips of her fingers are pressed under his chin and she’s clicking her tongue in reprimand.

His own fingers flex against his knees, his grip tightening, much like the invisible force around his heart.

Yuji wishes he could close his eyes until it was over, but that would be counterproductive.  That said, (y/n) finishes one eye quicker than he had done for her, and she’s sliding a little to the right in order to do the other one.

“You think Sukuna would like a little special treatment, too?” She teases quietly, her thumb affectionately swiping over the marking under his eye.  Yuji barely gets to revel in the feeling before the mark is opening up and a vermillion eye is glaring up at her.

“Try it brat and you won’t have hands to do your silly little makeovers” 

She giggles at the threat.  Sukuna may have intimidated her in the past, but it’s hard to feel fear while doing some self care.  Yuji still rolls his eyes and smacks his hand against his own face as punishment.  Unfortunately it’s not only a punishment for the curse living inside of him, and he winces a bit from the harsh smack.

“I’ll take that as a no thank you” (y/n) hums as she finishes up with his other eye, smiling faintly at her work before stepping back.  Yuji gives her a sheepish smile, before batting his eyelashes theatrically.  It does the trick in getting her to laugh.

“Well he’s missing out,” He says, the implication behind the surface level of his words making him bashful, and he finds himself averting his gaze.  “I feel prettier already” 

It draws another laugh out of her, sharp and surprised, and she continues to giggle behind smiling, sealed lips as she carefully slides the lash serum back into it’s perfect spot in her organizer.

If she were braver, it would’ve been easy to tell him that he didn’t need any sort of serums or masks to be pretty.  But just the thought makes her face feel warm, and she has a feeling that even if she tried to say such a thing, she’d butcher the words with a stutter.

So instead, she uncaps the small set of tweezers in her organizer, and turns her focus to the bathroom mirror in order to get to work on her eyebrows.  Yuji watches curiously as she begins to pluck tiny, near invisible hairs off of her face, all without a twitch or flinch.

She’s so focused on working with her reflection that he’s able to stare at her as freely as he wants, and it only takes a minute or two for him to get lost in a sea of mushy thoughts that get his heartbeat going.  Before he knows it he’s practically melting.

“You still want me to do yours?” 

“Hm?” His eyes shift around a bit before they land on hers, already watching him, waiting for a proper answer.  

“Your eyebrows,” (y/n) clarifies, raising the tweezers and pinching them for emphasis.  “I’m done.  So, if you still wanted, I can do yours” 

“Oh, right, yeah,” He breaks into a smile that’s so characteristically him it’s hard not to smile back.  “Is it going to hurt?” 

“It really shouldn’t,” She chuckles, considering he’s gone through worse pain than a little tweezing would provide.  Losing a hand comes to mind, but she doesn’t voice it.  “But I can stop if it becomes too uncomfortable” 

Yuji nods in understanding, and straightens up his posture, ready to brave through whatever this eyebrow plucking would bring.  He squares his jaw, clenches his fists, and prepares himself for the worst.  (y/n) presses her lips together tightly to keep her laughter from spilling out, but the stifled giggle is still audible.

“C’mon, this is a bad angle for me to do this,” She beckons him to follow her out of the small bathroom, trying to ignore how cutely he wore the expression of confusion.

Maybe it was the forced proximity getting to her head, but it was starting to feel like the little crush she’d been harboring for her friend was becoming too much to bear.  She was a jujutsu sorcerer damnit, she shouldn’t be reduced to fits of blushing and giggling she was stronger than that, wasn’t she? 

“Alrighty” Yuji follows her into the larger space of her bedroom without a second thought.

Maybe it wasn’t a question of her strength, but his.  (y/n) wondered to herself what it was about the sheer delight that overcame her whenever he was around that seemed unavoidable.  Was it her feelings for him that made her insides feel weak, or was it simply Itadori Yuji himself that was so delightful she couldn’t help the way she felt and behaved?

Or maybe she was trying too hard to find a way to excuse the butterflies only he could release in her tummy.

She’s careful with the tweezers in her hand as she climbs onto her bed, sliding into the very middle of it before patting the space in front of her to invite Yuji to do the same.

Now, Yuji wasn’t some kind of private, conservative guy.  He’d been in beds other than his own.  Megumi’s and Nobara’s had been made available to him countless times.  Whether it was a study session or a movie night, he never felt uncomfortable when being allowed into someone else’s bed.  Hell, he often made himself right at home in their sheets.  He even got a smack on the head from Nobara once for getting too cuddly with one of her plushies! 

So why now did he feel some reluctance in following (y/n’s) silent command?

“You’re allowed in the bed, Yuji,” As if reading her thoughts, she provides some comfort with the offer.  There’s even a little smile on her face, as if she wanted to tease him for hesitating.  “Trust me, it’ll be way more comfortable to do this here than keeping you sat on the toilet” 

It seems to do the trick, because he sets his knee on the mattress as he crawls on, and sits criss-cross directly in front of her.  It’s the first time he’s been in her bed, he realizes, so maybe that would explain his nerves.

(y/n’s) got a skeptical look on her face, her eyes wandering over his face as she maneuvers around, trying to find the right way to bend her legs, until eventually she huffs and turns to grab one of her pillows from the headboard.

“Just lay down, I’ll do ‘em that way,” She decides, placing the pillow just in front of her criss-crossed legs.  She gives it a pat the same way she’d patted the bed, prompting him to rest his head.  “It’d be easier than destroying my posture” She explains.

Yuji nodded his head, and started to turn around so he could lay back, but his movements are agonizingly slow.  He’s still unsure about being in her space, it seems, but she’s not sure how else to make him feel comfortable.  So when he finally lays his head down on her pillow and looks up at her, awaiting further instruction, she smiles comfortingly.

“Alright, just relax your face, I’ll try not to take too long,”

Yuji shuts his eyes and lets out a small breath, trying to do his best to relax as she’d asked him.  But it’s hard when she leans in closer and the sweet smell of her shampoo invaded his nose.  The tip of her finger merely grazes over his left eyebrow, but the sensation is electric.  He has to fight the shiver that nearly shoots down his spine.

“And just tell me if it stings too much” She adds in a murmur, before he feels the first pluck of the tweezers.

“I think I can thug it out, (y/n),” He teases, once he’s actually felt the sensation of the plucking and realizes it’s not that bad at all.  “I’m tough, you know”

(y/n) giggles, quiet and sweet, as she continues on with her work.  She shapes the top of his brow with no complaint or lag.  He figures she must be pretty used to doing this, if she’s able to speed right through the process.

“Oh yeah,” She hums, cautious of her volume when her face is hovering right over his.  She’s appreciative that Yuji’s kept his eyes closed for this process, because she doesn’t think she could bear having him staring up at her when she’s this close.  “The toughest” She finishes in a whisper.

Yuji’s shoulders shake when he chuckles, and she pauses with the tweezer for a moment when his brows move along with his smile.

“Are you patronizing me?” He asks, peeking an eye open, only to be met with her free palm covering his eyes as she leans back in to continue working on his eyebrows.

“I would never,” She assures in the same tone, laughing quietly to herself when Yuji’s mouth drops into an offended gape.  “Now hush, you’re making it hard to focus” 

Her tone was playfully scolding, but it’s an empty threat.

“Am I that distracting?”

“Incredibly,” (y/n) huffs, and it’s meant to be teasing, but there’s just a little too much truth to her tone.  “You talk too much” She throws the excuse out there quickly, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the shift in her tone.

Yuji shrugs his shoulders, and with how close she is to him, she’s able to watch his lips curl into a cute smile.  She can’t help but mirror it, even if he can’t see.

“Can’t help it.  I like talkin’ to you” 

Now she’s certain that she’ll keep her hand over his eyes, because there’s no way she’s going to risk him seeing the way her face heats up with color.  If she put a thermometer in her mouth, it’d malfunction, she’s sure.

Yuji’s heart may have been going haywire, but there’s not an ounce of uncertainty in his words.  He means it, and she knows it.

There’s a pause, the both of them remaining silent while she freezes in her ministrations.  She squeezes the tweezers together a few times as she lets the comment really settle in her mind.

“I like talking to you too,” 

It really shouldn’t be a difficult thing to say.  For one, because it’s the truth.  And for a second thing, because there’s nothing strange about friends getting along with one another.  But for some reason, she holds her breath after she says it, and her heart is pounding in her ears.

“Today’s been a lot of fun, actually” It takes some effort to talk through the lump in her throat, but she feels the need to tell him anyway.

His smile turns into a grin, and (y/n) has to go back to working on his eyebrows in order to distract herself from it.

“It has,” Yuji agrees.  “It’s very relaxing.  I want to do this all the time now” 

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that,” (y/n) muses.  “You did try to eat the mask” She reminds.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep on getting your help then,” Yuji replies, his tone lighting with hope.  (y/n) scoffs to herself.  “What?” He asks innocently.  “I thought you liked pampering me?” 

“I thought I told you you were talking too much” She chides, moving onto the space between his brows.  Without thinking, she brought her other hand upwards so she could use her thumb to gently brush away the stray hairs from his face.

His eyes are on hers in a moment’s notice, his grin returning.

“I thought you liked talking to me” He said. She has half a mind to smack her hand over his face again- because as predicted, she’s rendered speechless when she’s leaning so close and he’s looking right at her.  But the larger problem now is that she’s completely frozen, staring back at him with wide eyes, like he’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be.

“I do,” She mumbles, barely conscious of her own voice.  She was too distracted, her eyes shifting between his brown ones.  “You have a little hazel in your eyes” Again, she finds herself speaking without caution, or much awareness at all.

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles up at her, amused by her quiet commentary.  He longs to hear more, to tell her to keep talking, but he worries that he’ll ruin the atmosphere, and startle her into covering his face again.

“I always thought you had the prettiest eyes” He said it as quietly as he could.  As he thought she might, she did startle.  Her eyes go wide and her- now perfectly shaped- brows draw together in a slight knot.

A beat passes before she’s able to reply.

And even then, it's only a barely there, “...really?” 

“Yeah, really,” Yuji answers without missing another beat.  “Sometimes I look at ‘em too long and forget where I am” 

A surprised, breathless little laugh escapes her.  If she wasn’t a blushing wreck before, she certainly was now.  She tries to continue tweezing away at his eyebrows… but it seems like his eyes insist on holding contact with hers, and she can’t exactly pluck eyebrows without looking.

And again, she’s reduced to a mumbled, “R-really?” 

“Mhm” Yuji hums, his point proven as he gets lost staring up at her.  He looks like he has something more to say, but soon enough his eyes are glazed over and he’s got a dopey smile on his face.

That smile is quickly reflected back at him as her insides start to melt to a point of no return.

“I didn’t… uh- I- I didn’t know that” She stammered, and normally she’d feel embarrassed for stuttering over her words too much, but with the bigger picture forming, stuttering was at the bottom of her list for reasons why she was growing bashful.

“Mhm,” Yuji hums again, this one a little more dazed than the last.  He blinks a few times to cure his tunnel vision.  “Sometimes I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t tell you that” 

She chuckles, similarly biting down on her bottom lip until she found her voice again.

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?” She asks softly, brows pinching again with curiosity.

“Well, uh, y’know…” Yuji trails off, barely shrugging his shoulders.  “Didn’t want to say something weird and mess up our friendship” 

At this point, her curiosity was getting the best of her, so with a tilt of her head and a bolder disposition, she gave him a knowing smile.

“So why say something now?” 

“Couldn’t help it” He replies right away, and (y/n) has to purse her lips from grinning too much.

Her eyes flicker away from his, only to glance up at his lips.  She’s looking at him upside down, so for a brief moment Yuji thinks she’s staring at his chin, and he wonders if some of that green mask is still stuck there.  But then he catches the way her lips part and it dawns on him- oh.

It happens all at once and agonizingly slow.  She leans further over him, bringing her face down closer to his.  One of her hands firmly clutches the small set of tweezers, while the other relaxes, fingertips gently brushing over his cheekbone, thumb resting against his temple.  Yuji can’t decide whether he wants to watch it happen with wide eyes, or close them and give into the moment.  They end up falling shut on their own accord as soon as her lips brush over his- before she’s even actually kissed him.

She hovers there for a brief moment, her lips ghosting his, the tip of her nose grazing his chin, and her mind running wild.  Should she have asked him if this was okay first? Was she making this huge leap of faith over one compliment? Sure, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her but if she kissed him right now, like this, would she come to regret it-? 

Her thoughts are calmed when Yuji tilts his head back, bringing his lips to meet hers in a kiss that pushes every last doubt out of her mind, until it’s gone blank.  Every thought that doesn’t surround him is completely lost.

Needless to say there’s no second thought when she kisses him back.  Her fingers press softly into the skin of his cheek as though to keep him still- just as she had before when applying the eyelash serum.  Yuji never could have imagined his silly daydreams from that moment would play out in reality just twenty minutes later.

When they part, and Yuji drops his head properly back into her pillow, (y/n) doesn’t go far.  With her eyes still shut and her touch unmoving, she leans down one more time to steal another, quicker kiss, before she finally sits up and glances down at him again.

He’s already looking at her, his lips stretching so wide that his grin nearly split his face.  It was a grin she was familiar with, but it still made her light up with a shared joy.

She giggles at him, before steadying her tweezers in her fingers and going right back to the previous task at hand.

“Couldn’t help it” She mumbles his words back to him, and Yuji laughs as he shuts his eyes, relaxing once more as she evened out his eyebrows.

He reaches his hand back, gently laying it against her bent knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, but they didn’t have to.  Not until they finished their night of pampering and made plans for a proper date later in the week.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[motherlvr]

3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader

SPOILERS FOR ATSV

read part 2 here!

3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.

Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)

A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out

1.

Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.

"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.

Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.

"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.

After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.

It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.

After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"

Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.

You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.

2.

Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.

Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.

While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.

"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."

Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"

Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.

You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.

You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.

3.

If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.

"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.

"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.

"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.

You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.

The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.

You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.

Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.

+1

Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.

Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.

As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.

Oh, great. It's the Prowler.

This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.

As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.

I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.

"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.

You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.

The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.

"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.

He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.

His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."

Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.

"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.

Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.

“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.

"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.

"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.

When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.

Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.

"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.

Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.

He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.

Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.

---------

part 2!

[powerfultenderness]

Bed

Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.

Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)

Rated: T+

A/N: Just some fluff. 

Word count: 2947

[Neighbor König masterlist]

It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 

That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 

“Excuse me,” he started in German.

You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 

With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 

He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 

You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 

He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 

Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 

You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 

You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.

“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.

He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”

“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 

Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”

“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 

“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 

You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 

“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   

“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.

He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.

“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 

You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”

“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.

“Huh?”

He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 

“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 

You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 

You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 

König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 

You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.

Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 

“You won’t.”

You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 

His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 

“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 

Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 

He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 

With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 

As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 

“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 

Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 

“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 

Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 

Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 

You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 

“Now.”

“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”

He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 

Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 

“No.”

You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 

He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.

205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 

The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.

He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 

Oh. “I’m sorry.” 

He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 

You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 

Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 

He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 

There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.

You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 

“Oh. Sure.” 

You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 

Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.

“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 

Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  

Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 

You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 

He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 

You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 

He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 

The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 

You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.

“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 

“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.

His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  

And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 

He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.

-

You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-

Wait!

You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.

You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.

“König?” 

“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.

You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.

“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.

“Yes.” 

“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”

“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.

You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 

“No, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”

“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.

You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”

“Me?”

“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”

“You like my bed?” 

“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 

The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 

“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail. 

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (11/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: loss of virginity, dubcon, sex content, unprotected sex, description of the battle, wounds, burns, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Looking at her peaceful face, listening to her quiet breath as she finally fell asleep in his arms, he felt fulfilled as a man, a brother and a lover. At last he had taken her for himself, whole, and she lay beside him, filled with his seed, through which she could bear his inheritance in the future.

He had desired this for a long time, had thought about it for a long time, had planned it for a long time, however, his concern for her had always prevailed – he understood what the loss of maidenhood meant for a woman and that if he took it from her without having serious intentions for her, he would humiliate her and expose her to defamation.

Now that he had made up his mind, however, his judgement was unable to stop his members, and he forced his way deep into her warm, tight body, with one aggressive thrust taking what was rightfully his.

His hand muffled her cries of despair and pain that he fully understood – he knew that this part of the act would not be pleasurable for either of them, that he had to be brutal to tear apart what made it impossible for him to sink fully into her.

If he had been gentle, she would have agonised and cried for long minutes, surely losing her desire for him to ever touch her again.

He knew that she understood that.

That he would never cause her pain for his own satisfaction.

That he did it for her.

"– shhh – shhh, little sister, the worst is behind us –" He breathed out, looking at her with tenderness and concern, stroking her hot cheek with his palm, all wet with tears.

He didn't know if it would have been comforting to her to know that he was in pain too – her walls were too tight and pulsed with panic against his erection.

He knew what she felt because he had experienced something similar himself when he first lay in bed with Madam – he guessed that for her, too, the experience of a stranger's body in such intimacy and proximity, invading her space in every possible way, made her feel terrified and cornered, unable to escape from him.

She looked at him with her big doe eyes as he took his hand from her mouth, breathing loudly, trying to be brave and take it, for him, just for him.

"– I'm scared –"

He froze, looking at her in pain, feeling a sting in his heart at her words, so innocent, childlike: she was completely vulnerable and terrified, at his mercy, revealing to him what she really felt.

He felt shame.

"– do you want me to stop? – I will if you want me to – forgive me –" He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers as he always did when he wanted to reassure and soothe her, his hand stroking her hair.

She shook her head, breathing loudly through her mouth, looking up at him with confidence and hope, as if she believed he meant her no harm, that this sudden act was dictated only by lust and hot desire.

He sighed and leaned in, placing a tender, soft kiss on her hot, sweaty cheek with an affection that filled his whole heart, his manhood pulsing deep inside her anew, wanting to continue what he had started.

"– don't be afraid, zaldrītsos – we'll do it slowly – I won't hurt you –" He whispered, stroking her head as if she were a small child.

He watched her face intently, breathing loudly as he slid out of her almost fully with a slow, gentle movement, only to sink into her heat again a moment later. All he heard was her gasp, her lips parted wide, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her fingers clenched tightly on his shoulders.

She was so warm.

He groaned, feeling a wave of pleasure surge through his body as, with each successive thrust, her throbbing, fleshy cunt began to offer him less and less resistance, as if she were adjusting to the shape of his swollen erection – the act began to be pleasurable for not only for him, but to his relief, also for her – she closed her eyes and moaned quietly, her insides increasingly wet and slick, as with lazy, precise stabs he hit again and again the spot inside her that he had always teased with his fingers or tongue.

If he was grateful for anything Madam, it was for showing him exactly how and where a woman should be touched to give her pleasure while being inside her – to his surprise, it wasn't a matter of simply moving within her, but of pushing against her upper wall, rubbing against her to tease the soft bud inside her from which she melted into bliss.

"– ah –" She mewled, opening her eyes, looking up at him in a way from which his cock throbbed aggressively inside her, a pleasant shiver ran along his spine as he felt her hands slide from his shoulders down his waist to his buttocks, clenching on them.

He sighed and moaned quietly, surprised by her boldness, having never been touched by a woman in this way – it was a new sensation, but it aroused him as it made her hips begin to meet his, rolling back and forth.

"– does it hurt? –" He muttered, stroking her cheek with his thumb, placing soft, warm kisses on the tip of her nose and lips, thrusting into her a little more confidently – he felt a drop of sweat run from his neck down his torso, the tightness in his testicles testifying that his whole body was screaming for him to quicken his pace.

He wanted it so badly.

"– n-no – not anymore – but – how should it look? – how have you done it with other women? –" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she were embarrassed, and he stopped moving, looking at her in disbelief, feeling his swollen cock twitch inside her.

"– do you want to see for yourself? –" He breathed out and saw that she nodded.

"– fuck me –"

Fuck me.

Something in those words, in how direct and ungodly they were, unworthy of a wife, a lady or a sister made him start pounding into her as if he'd lost his mind, their hips bumping against each other with the loud smacks of their naked bodies, their moans and grunts pathetically helpless, on the verge of crying, their silhouettes pressed against each other in a passionate, tight embrace, her legs crossed over his back.

"– fucking mine –" He hissed through clenched teeth, thinking that neither his brother, nor his mother, nor anyone else could have changed what he had just done, the fact that he was taking her for himself, that he was fucking her like a whore, and she was moaning beneath him in pleasure – his tongue thrust deep into her throat, sliding in and out to the rhythm of his fierce, sharp stabs, repeating the same movements in her mouth and deep inside her throbbing core.

They were both panting loudly, hot and sweaty from the exertion, rocking their hips so that their bodies hit each other again with a loud slaps – he pressed his forehead against hers again and looked down, unable to deny himself the sight of what he was doing to her, opening her small, warm cunt wide with sticky clicks of her moisture on his fat, swollen cock, all soaked in her juices.

"– vok syt nyke (perfect for me) – ao se aōha byka orvorta (you and your little cunt) –" He exhaled with satisfaction and heard her girlish, innocent cry of delight.

"– Aemond –" She mewled pleadingly as if she wanted him to save her – he sighed and closed his eyes as he felt her come on his erection, her wetness oozing out of her with each of his pushes, his thighs and her buttocks all slick with her release.

He looked at her face curved in an expression of utter bliss, at her glistening mouth open wide in a sweet moans, at her closed eyes from which tears of relief flowed, and felt a squeeze in his stones testifying that this was it.

"– oh gods – oh gods, yes, yes, yes, hāedar –" He breathed out and closed his eye, feeling that his peak was so overpowering that for a moment he could hear or see nothing, dull to any sound or sight, panting hard and moaning like a little boy, feeling with relief as his seed spilled deep inside her in waves.

He came inside her.

She was his.

And even though he knew she didn't believe him, he was going to make it stay that way.

No fucking Grejyoy had any right to the hand of her, the Targaryen, the dragon rider, his little sister.

Only he could be her husband.

He was awakened by her touch – as he opened his eyelids lazily the first rays of light blinded him – he murmured, feeling her body snuggled into his chest, her head laid on his shoulder. He stroked her hair with his hand and she looked up at him, in her eyes tears, sadness and terror.

He understood why she felt that way.

He had taken from her something that was most precious to a woman, even though he was not yet her husband.

"– you have a right to resent me – but I swear to you that we will marry – even if it means I have to burn my brother myself –" He said coldly, and she rose quickly on her elbow, startling him, her eyes and mouth wide open in horror.

"– no – no, I beg you, don't do it – I'll bear it, I'll bear it all, just don't burden your soul even more –" She whimpered pleadingly, grasping his hand in hers, kissing it as if he were some kind of saint.

He stared at her in disbelief, breathing heavily, feeling a squeeze in his throat, tears of emotion gathered under his eyelids at the thought that no one had ever cared about what was happening deep inside him.

And yet she had seen it.

"– hāedar –" He whispered as she wept loudly, hugging her cheek to his hand, tears of despair and pain again running down her beautiful, smooth face.

He leaned towards her, gripping her in his arms and placed a sweet, warm kiss on her plump lips, one he would have been ashamed of if he had been with someone else, one he would have hated himself for, considering himself weak and pathetic, but not with her, never with her.

With her, gentle, tender, warm, soft caresses were natural and desired.

"– ñuhon (mine) –" He whispered between one sticky kiss and another, sinking his full lips into hers again and again with loud clicks of their saliva, running the tips of his fingers over her cheek, jaw and neck.

"– aōhon (yours) –" She sighed softly right into his mouth, and he groaned quietly, feeling his morning erection swell unbearably, causing him pain.

She didn't stand up to him when he lay down on top of her, and her thighs, in some natural, innocent reflex, spread out in front of him, allowing him to look at her sweet, pink shell, from which a pearly trickle of his spend was leaking.

He settled himself on his knees in front of her and guided the thick head of his cock against her warm opening, sliding into her flesh with a slow, soft thrust of his hips.

She moaned with exertion, clamping her hands on the fabric of the bedclothes around her head, her beautiful, long hair scattered in disarray, surrounding her face the way the night sky surrounds the moon, looking up at him with the gaze of her doe eyes, her eyebrows arched in discomfort and pleasure.

"– shhh, sweet girl – we will do it slowly – very slowly –" He assured her, leaning over her, and she nodded with a soft little smile.

He nuzzled his face into the hollow of her neck and she sank her lips into to the skin of his shoulder, letting his whole body press her to the bed – she threw her legs over his back as with lazy, tentative thrusts he began to move in and out of her with their quiet grunts of pleasure, their fingers clenched tightly on their naked bodies.

This time her flesh didn't resist him – her cunt was hot and slick from their shared wetness, ready to welcome him inside her, her breath deep and steady, as if by having been through this before she already knew what to expect and it reassured her.

"– just like that – my sweet little sister – your brother is here – right here –" He whispered in her ear, stroking her soft breasts, her waist with his broad hands, clamping them finally on her plump buttocks – she threw her head back with a sweet moan, her walls squeezing his erection tightly at his words, showing him that she indeed loved it when he spoke to her.

She was so eager, so thirsty for his caresses, while remaining almost naively innocent.

They both groaned lowly as they felt her begin to leak, their hips pounding against each other with loud splats, sticky from her wetness, making his cock pulsate inside her greedily, delighted that he was sinking into her fleshy walls again.

She was so warm.

It felt so safe.

"– we'll do this often after I return – all day and night we'll breed our heir –" He gasped with a sigh, rolling his hips back and forth, sinking into her faster and more aggressively – she moaned with a sweet smile, driving her short nails into the soft structure of his firm buttocks.

"– and once I give you a son? –" She hummed warmly, stroking his neck, and he looked down at her – her gaze was full of peace, as if, despite her earlier words that she didn't want to be a wife or a mother, she was imagining herself now, holding a baby in her arms, his son with his white hair – she was panting hard along with him, her lovely breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts, making him involuntarily clamp his hand over one of them, playing with her hard nipple with his thumb.

"– then you'll bear me another –"

He and Aegon had left the Red Keep on horseback, informing their mother that they were going on patrol together, which was of course a lie – Criston Cole had sent him word that the place where he was to wait for his signal had not changed and that was where they were to head to finally really begin this war.

He wondered who Rhaenyra would send to face them.

As he soared into the sky on Vhagar he spotted Sunfyre and Aegon circling above Dragon's Pit in the distance – both of them headed in the same direction.

It took them a couple of hours to reach the location, but he was relieved to see that the battle had not yet begun and they had arrived in time – he and Vhagar had landed far from the battlefield to preserve the effect of surprise, and his brother had followed his lead.

Aegon slid off Sunfyre, knowing that they would surely have to wait a long time for a sign from Cole, deciding to stretch his legs. He did the same and sighed, not looking at him, feeling uncomfortable now that they were left alone, just the two of them.

He felt resentment towards him for trying to take her away from him, but he was also filled with satisfaction because his brother didn't know what he had been doing to her all night.

Aegon finally approached him, keeping his hands on his hips, as if he was struggling to finally say something to him.

"You are aware that I did not do this out of malice, are you? I'm the King now. We need the Greyjoys, we don't have the fleet to stand up to the Velaryons, and they can provide it for us. I don't expect you to abandon her, and I won't say a word if you decide to secretly continue to… see her." He said in a way as if he was trying to throw out something simultaneously wise and comforting, to him, however, it sounded like pathetic gibberish, his hopeless attempt to clear his conscience.

"Do you want me to humiliate her? Make a ridicule of her and myself?" He snorted, shaking his head, looking away from him, unable to bear the sight of him.

Aegon licked his lower lip and laughed nervously.

"Gods, what's wrong with that? Even our mother enjoys the pleasures of life and male companionship as she sees fit. Am I to punish her for this, knowing that she spent her youth looking after the rotting, decaying old man that was our father?" He asked, and he froze, looking at him in shock.

"Did you know about this?" He muttered.

Aegon burst out laughing.

"Servants are not blind, brother, and it so happens that I, unlike you, do not despise gossip. You don't want to listen to it, while I do just the opposite, because there is always a grain of truth in it. This is what has always made us different: you look away from what disgusts you, what you are ashamed of."

"I should be proud of it then? Of my mother, whose bed is warmed by her guard, that they can beget a bastard and humiliate us all?" He howled with rage, not understanding what he wanted from him, how he could expect him to accept such behaviour from her.

"Our cousin warms your bed too, but I don't recall you asking me to marry her before you began to do so. Where was your honour and your affection for her then? And as for our mother, she is no fool: she knows what to do to make sure that no unwanted…consequences of her little secret arise." He said, combing his white hair with his fingers.

He swallowed hard and lowered his gaze.

"I regret it."

"What?"

"I regret the fact that I didn't ask you for her hand sooner." He muttered.

His brother sighed loudly and approached him, surprising him by simply patting him on the arm as if to comfort him.

"You said yourself that you didn't take her maidenhood, so don't torment your conscience. What our tongues and hands do to women should remain our secret." He said lightly, as if he considered the matter settled.

"The situation is different now." He said with shame.

Aegon blinked and shook his head.

"Just yesterday, during our conversation – you maintained that she is a maiden."

"Because she was. But she is no longer." He whispered in trembling voice.

Aegon closed his eyes, hid his face in his hands and leaned back with a low groan of rage.

"FUCK! Gods, why do you always have to fuck everything up? Like with Luke it was also an accident and your cock slipped into her unintentionally?" He exclaimed exasperated and angry, pacing back and forth, unable to calm down.

He lowered his gaze, feeling like a small child, wanting just to cry.

"Tell me you showed at least enough forethought to make sure she wouldn't carry your bastard." He said finally, looking at him expectantly and crouched down, burying his head between his knees seeing his pale face.

"Wed her to me."

"I've already told you. We need –"

"Faithful hound. That's what you called me behind my back. You laughed that I barked when I fucked my whore. Do you really think gossip doesn't reach my ears?" He asked coldly, feeling that he was shaking with terror and rage.

Aegon looked at him uneasily, clearly feeling discomfort at the thought that he knew this.

"If you wish your hound to remain faithful to you, give him what he asks, or he may bite his master's hand. Hard. And that's not what any of us would want, is it?" He cooed with a broad smile, cocking his head.

His brother swallowed hard, his lips pressed together in a thin line out of rage.

"Are you fucking threatening me?" Aegon hissed, and he grinned even wider.

"I'm only warning you, brother."

Aegon stood up and opened his mouth, apparently wanting to explode with anger, but they heard the sound of a trumpet in the distance, getting louder and louder.

"Choose wisely." He growled to him and left his brother with terror in his eyes, climbing up the long ropes to Vhagar's back.

"Sōvēs!"

His dragoness rose lazily, making the ground around them shake, terrified fowl flew away from between bushes and tree branches. He heard his brother give the same order to Sunfyre and after a moment they both took to the skies, heading to meet their destiny.

He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering with a rapidly beating heart if it was worth the risk of his brother disagreeing.

Wouldn't it be better to be sure.

And then he saw her face swollen with tears, her cheek nestled in his palm.

Don't burden your soul even more.

He swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in his throat as he saw their army in the distance and a large red dragon he recognised immediately.

Meleys.

Of course.

Daemon was in Harrenhal, and Rhaenys was the most experienced of them all.

After what happened to Luke, his sister-whore did not dare send her children into battle.

Their appearance caused loud cheers from their army and cries of horror from their enemy – he glanced sideways, surprised to see that his brother was holding back, hoping that he would attack first.

He was afraid, he thought with a sneer, recognising that he would show him what true courage was.

Who was more deserving of being king.

Vhagar and Meleys collided in the air, grabbing each other's hind legs with their claws, causing both beasts to spin around, and he had to hold the ropes tightly in his hands to keep from falling.

"– DRAKARYS! –" He shouted, also hearing Rhaenys voice from afar, pillars of fire erupted from the throats of their dragons making the temperature around them unbearably hot.

He tried to steer Vhagar so that the flames would not touch him, and after a moment he heard a second voice coming from the side.

"– DRAKARYS! –" His brother roared, and Sunfyre breathed fire straight at Meleys and her rider, making the beast let go of Vhagar with a loud screech, throwing itself at him in pursuit.

"– DARKARYS, MELEYS! –" He heard, and before Vhagar could make a full turn back he heard his brother's loud scream – as he turned over his shoulder he saw his silhouette sunk in fire, trying to cover his face with his hand.

Meleys claws sliced into Sunfyre's flesh, her fangs bit into his neck and let go, allowing both him and his rider to fall inertly to the ground.

Even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do.

He had warned him, and he had disobeyed.

If his hāedar had been with him, he would have made sure she stayed away until Meleys was weakened, so as not to endanger her.

But his brother?

He smiled.

"– angōs, Vhagar –" He called out, and his dragoness opened her maw wide and roared, as if remembering her great battles of Old Valyria centuries ago, pushing against the fleeing Meleys like a great mountain.

You won't escape me, you old whore.

He thought and blinked, seeing surprised that Meleys had turned back suddenly, spotting flames at the end of her throat.

Fuck.

He forced Vhagar to change course and shield them with her body, making the biggest wave of fire pass them by – he heard her squeal in pain as Meleys' claws slammed into her stomach again, tugging hard, creating wounds from which her hot blood flowed.

Vhagar needed no more of his commands – his dragoness was so enraged that she threw herself at Meleys, finally sinking her fangs into her throat, tearing her head from the rest of her body.

He watched with satisfaction, panting heavily, as the rest of her body, along with Rhaenys, fell downwards, finally hitting the ground, bursting into flames, their army, led by Criston Cole and his uncle, surged forward with a roar of joy for their victory.

His victory.

When it was all over, he flew to where he believed Sunfyre and his rider had fallen – indeed, he could see from above the soldiers around the body and the golden dragon writhing in pain, trying to reach its rider.

Had he survived or not?

He landed in the distance, walking unhurriedly towards the panicked physicians and servants surrounding Aegon, feeling powerful, invincible, proud, content.

He finally stood over them and hummed with satisfaction, seeing the state his brother's body was in – he was breathing, however, most of his skin was burnt, the only things coming from his mouth were moans and grunts.

"– it is a miracle, Your Highness – Sunfyre took the entire fall on himself, he saved our King's life –" One of the men said.

"– your brave King moved into battle with you and was severely wounded – you are to take proper care of him and relieve his pain –" He announced, and the soldiers around him nodded.

"Of course, Your Highness."

He sighed quietly, looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, trying to hold back a smirk of satisfaction.

The gods had heard his prayers.

His brother would be unable to hold his function, and he would finally take his rightful place.

He will rule the Kingdom in his name.

He will win this fucking war.

He will marry her.

[vorestarr]

ascended astarion and vampire spouses

so I've been reading the dnd 2e manual "Van Richten's Guide to Vampires" for fic/game inspiration, and there's this really interesting chapter on vampire brides and grooms. after reading it, it's very clear to me that Astarion didn't turn Tav into a typical spawn, but into a vampire spouse, which are two very different rituals with very different outcomes.

the typical vampire spawn creation process is exactly what Astarion describes happening to him: a painful death, a painful rebirth into undeath, fighting his way out of his own coffin, and Cazador's complete control over him. this is described pretty clearly in the guide to vampires:

According to most related tales, a vampire can create another simply by killing a mortal either with its life-energy draining power (draining all the character's experience leveIs) or by exhausting the mortal of his or her blood supply. If the victim's body is not properly destroyed, it arises as a vampire, under the control of the creature who killed it, on the second night following the burial. [...] Most vampires remember the instant of their death and the nature of their killer, and understand immediately their new nature. Certainly their new hunger gives them a good idea of what they have become. They must immediately free themselves from their grave. either by breaking it open from within or by assuming gaseous form and diffusing out.

so that's definitely what happened to Astarion, but that's not what happens to Tav. after ascended Astarion turns Tav into a vampire, they can ask him what happened, and he describes the following:

Astarion: You are so beautiful... And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you for trusting me. Player: What exactly happened? Astarion: You were drained dry, and at the height of your delirium, I granted you one drop of my own blood. Things will be a touch different for you than they were for me when I was a spawn. I'm imbibed with unfathomable new talents. I am fairly certain I can extend Mephistopheles' blessings unto you. Player: Does that mean I need not fear the sun? Astarion: You need not fear anything. You will be stronger, swifter, sharper, but you won't be different. You were already perfect before. It's hard to improve.

for reference, this is how the guide to vampires describes the ritual for vampire spouses:

To actually create the bride, the vampire bestows what is known as the "Dark Kiss". lt samples the blood of its mortal paramour—once, twice, thrice—draining her almost to the point of death. This process causes the subject no pain; in fact, it has been described as the most euphoric, ecstatic experience, in comparison to which all ether pleasures fade into insignificance. Just as the subject is about to slip into the terminal coma from which there is no awakening, the vampire opens a gash in its own flesh—often in its throat—and holds the subject's mouth to the wound, As the burning draught that is the vampire’s blood gushes into the subject's mouth, the primitive feeding instinct is triggered, and she sucks hungrily at the wound, enraptured. With the first taste of the blood, the subject is possessed of great and frenzied strength (Str 18, if the character’s Str isn't already higher), and will use it to prevent the vampire from separating her from the fountain of wonder that is its bleeding wound. lt is at this point that the creator-vampire's strength is most sorely tested. He is weakened by his own blood loss, and also by his own rapture as the "victim" of a dark kiss. Overcoming the sudden loss of strength and the inclinations of lust, the vampire must pull her away from its own throat, hopefully without harming her, before she has overfed. Should the subject be allowed to feed for too long (more than 2 rounds), she is driven totally and incurably insane, and will die in agony within 24 hours. Once the subject has stopped feeding, she falls into a coma that lasts minutes or hours (2dl2 turns), at the end of which time she dies. Several (1 d3) hours later, she arises as a Fledgling vampire—and her creator's bride.

this to me sounds like what Astarion describes. he drains Tav almost dry, and at the very last moment, gives them a single drop of his blood. (also interesting reading this guide, the single drop avoids the problem of the vampire spouse being driven ravenous with hunger for the vampire creator's blood and attacking them. did Astarion know this and give them one drop on purpose to avoid that and Tav potentially being driven mad by it? or was he being selfish and this is just a nice but unanticipated outcome?)

i kept reading and there's a lot more interesting information about vampire spouses, but the most interesting thing I found related to the game was this:

Although there are some folk tales that describe the bride of a vampire as its slave, in much the same way that offspring are slaves, a bride is free-willed from the moment of her creation. The creator vampire does have great influence over the bride. however although this control is totally nonmagical. When a vampire is created in the traditional manner—that is, when a victim's life energy is completely drained away—the new fledgling instinctively understands much about the vampiric way of unlife, and about its own strengths, weaknesses* and needs. Not so the bride.

so basically, the vampire spouse is not tied to the vampire creator in the same way as a spawn (i.e., not able to be fully controlled) but is still extremely reliant on the vampire creator to teach them how to live as a vampire. the guide goes on to describe that some vampire creators may lie to their vampire spouse about the control or powers they have, in order to exert more control over them.

interestingly, if you ask Astarion if he can compel you the way Cazador compelled him, he doesn't give a straight answer, he just says this:

Player: Cazador could compel you - can you compel me? Astarion: Why would I need to? You're going to be wonderfully obedient.

to me, all of this says that Astarion was telling the truth when he told Tav that they would be different from him as a spawn, and also in emphasizing that they are not a spawn but a consort. he didn't create a spawn, he created a vampire spouse. he married Tav, and because of this Tav also retains their free will.

of course, Astarion doesn't say this. if he knows, he withholds this information in much the way that this guide describes, as a way for the creator to maintain more control over their spouse. but still, extremely interesting implications for the ascended Astarion romance, imo.

other interesting facts about vampire spouses from the guide to vampires:

the married couple has telepathic communication that can span miles -- so Tav and Astarion can potentially have a telepathic bond even after the tadpoles are gone. (another note, this communication has to be consensual both ways for it to work, so you can't just dig around someone's mind if they don't want it.)

the vampire creator is extremely jealous and possessive. (yeah lol)

their life forces are linked, so one suffering a great deal is felt by the other.

the bond can be broken, but the ritual to do so has to be initiated by the creator. to break it, they both spill their blood on the ground and allow it to mix. this dissolves all aspects of the bond (i.e., telepathy and linked life forces), but the spouse stays a vampire.